How do you feel?
In my bones, safe.
In my nerves, not so much.
Which is better than the other way round.
This is a random personal blog - covering everything from poetry to politics. Views presented are strictly my own.
Marriage is like a roller coaster ride.
A good marriage is a Ferris wheel ride - you still have the ups and downs, but you know they come and go. Its slower, and hey, there is the view from the top!
An abusive marriage is like Ghost Ride - all it seeks to do is scare you and take the wits out of you. Even if you enjoy the thrill, that is not the way one lives one's life.
अच्छा है। कोई उम्मीद नहीं है, तो कोई दर्द भी नहीं होगा।
उम्मीद को खत्म करने से ठीक पहले जो दर्द होता है, उस से बढ़ कर भी कुछ है?
राकेश जी की कविता की विशेषता यह है कि वह एक कहानी भी होती है। कविता को कोई जल्दी नहीं होती। वह धीरे धीरे समां बांधती है। आपको अपने साथ एक यात्रा पर ले चलती है, और अंत में, धीरे से, अपनी बात कह देती है।
इन कविताओं में रुमानियत हैं, जीवन के अंश हैं, कुछ चोटों के निशाँ, और कुछ हल्की, सौंधी मुस्कानें।
मेरी सबसे पसंदीदा कविता "छोटी थी मैं" है। 'सुरमचू', 'बेटियां और छुट्टियां', और 'तलाक' भी बहुत ही प्यारी कविताऐं हैं.
कुछ कविताओं के अंश:
मुझे बाँट दो खुले हाथों से
बंद मुट्ठी से फिसल जाती हूँ
ज़िन्दगी हूँ, रेत के माफिक
खुश्क रहूँ तो बिखर जाती हूँ
जा, किसी की आरज़ू बन जा
कभी तो पूरा करेगा खुदा तुझे
पुस्तक में ३-४ जगह पर कवि की अपनी तसवीरें हैं. मुझे 'सुरमचू' और 'दोबारा' - इन कविताओं के साथ की तस्वीरें बहुत अच्छी लगीं।
१५७ पन्नों की इस पुस्तक में ६६ कविताएं हैं.
हर डूबती कश्ती साहिल को
पूरी उम्मीद के साथ
एक आखिरी बार
ज़रूर देखती होगी
डूब जाने से ठीक पहले।
********
Every sinking boat,
I am sure
looks to the coast
with more hope
than her heart has ever held
It sinks
nonetheless.
बुरे वक़्तों में हम अच्छा वक़्त याद नहीं रखते
और अच्छे समय में बुरा समय भूल जाते हैं
एक से सीख मिलती है
एक में चैन की सांस
दोनों ज़रूरी हैं
तुम्हारी कविता पढ़ कर, सुबह-सुबह कुनकुना सा हो गया कमरा!
झूठी! मैं खुद आ कर देखूं, तो मानूं ।
आ जाओ, जान!
आज पहली बार... 'जान' कहा है तुमने मुझे।
मैंने बोलने में देर लगाई, तुमने बनने में कोई देर नहीं की!
**********
कितना अधिकार मानूं तुम पर?
देखते ही गले लगा लिया करो, इतना!
वादा रहा! हर बार! गले लगाना मेरा दूसरा सबसे favorite काम है।
और पहला?
गले लगाते ही कंधे को हौले से चूम लेना।
***********
तुम न भी कहो, तो भी, साड़ी में तो मैं अच्छी लगती हूँ।
अरे बवाल लगती हो!
अच्छा? तो फिर आज से जब भी साड़ी पहनूंगी, तुम्हें मुझ से मिलने आना होगा। उसके बिना श्रृंगार पूरा नहीं होगा. Blush तो तुम ही कराओगे!
***********
क्या एक लड़का और लड़की सचमुच दोस्त नहीं हो सकते?
हम लड़के अमूमन २ तरह की लड़कियों से दोस्ती करते हैं. पहला, जहां हमारा कोई चांस नहीं हो. और दूसरा, जहां लड़की हमें बिलकुल attractive नहीं लगती हो. तुम्हारे साथ दूसरा तो हो नहीं सकता।
पहला भी नहीं.
***********
At its heart, a poem is a moment.
माँ बाप ने नाम गलत रखा मेरा
आकृति का होता है आकार
मेरी नियति
जल
- जिस घर में बसें
उसका आकार लें
निज का नहीं
डेढ़ अक्षर की भूल, बस
मेरा गुण-संगत नाम
रखते, तो होता
आहुति
Translation, but the word Ahuti has a very specific connotation - it is sacrifice made to the holy fire where the person making the sacrifice earns good karma or a tangible spiritual or material reward. The piece should be read with that connotation.
They got the name wrong
It should not have been
Valerie
- the strong one.
What use is strength
in a girl?
If they had named me
as they raised me
My name would have been
Ahuti
- the Sacrifice.
This post is to compile the writing of a blogger who does not want to publish these pieces. I love them, so am compiling them without the name.
Jo yaad thaa woh guzar gaya
Aandhi mein sab bikhar gaya
Shaakh ab muh uthaaye dekhti hai
Jo panchi baitha thaa, kidhar gaya
Good morning.
How was your weekend?
Here, have this. I got this from home.
Come come, birthday party in canteen.
Wow, you love books too?
We're going dancing/drinking/biking/birdwatching/walking/.... coming?
Why are you upset? Come, let's get chai
Chai peeni hai?
Chai?
Chal.
And finally...
Aaj mere ghar.
So, you were in a relationship earlier?
Three. None of them lasted more than 6 months.
Why? Why didn't they work out?
....
I want to know so I don't make any of the mistakes that those people made.
In Childhood Sexual Abuse, this term refers to multiple men, either close friends of the family or close relatives or other frequent visitors to the house, who abused a child over their growing years.
The term is typically used by survivors who did not have access to adult care that would stop this ongoing, recurrent abuse.
There used to be an Indian blog where Indian survivors shared their stories of CSA. I learnt this term on that blog. Unfortunately, I cannot find that blog anymore. Now, just institutional resources.
So, if you are out there, looking for something to resonate with your CSA experience, this one comes from the survivors. And I am truly, really sorry that the CSA Awareness blog was deleted and the other blog is no longer indexed by search engines.
Bangles
A woman's voice
when her lips are silent.
They can tinkle softly,
like gentle laughter
or crash
like a shriek
Or walk away
without a backward glance.
Sea, i'll never forgive you even if you touch my feet a thousand times.
- a 5 year old survivor of the tsunami who lost both parents in the event.
माचिस की डिब्बियों जैसे घरों में
माचिस की तीलियों जैसे लोग
एक बार भेजा गरम हुआ तो
सारा वजूद जल कर राख हो सकता है।
पर ये लोग
कुछ पसीने में तर
कुछ शराब में
वो क्या कहा था गुलज़ार ने?
सीली तीलियों में आग नहीं लगती*।
* माचिस फिल्म में एक dialog
Matchbox houses
Housing
Matchstick people
If the head gets too hot
everything burns up
But these people
Some, soaked in sweat
Others, drowned in drink
What is it that Gulzar once said?
Moist matchheads do not catch fire.
That day
And all the days like that day
Too many to count
But they did not vanish.
They put themselves in neat plastic resealable packets
and waited.
They were not days
They were seeds.
Even if you put a seed away
in neat plastic packaging
it does not die.
The only way to kill a seed
is to let it germinate.
It only goes
when it has given the world
what it was meant to give.
That day
and all days like that day
waited
until I took each one out
and gave it
a place
to express itself.
It germinated, the roots spread out and the stalk stood tall
to say its piece
Then, and only then,
the day died.
Closure is not important.
It is imperative.
**************
वो दिन
और उस जैसे सब दिन
जो दबा दिए गए थे
मन के भीतर कहीं
वे मरे नहीं
पोटलियों में बंद हो गए
प्रतीक्षारत।
बीज को
पोटली में बांध कर
सन्दूक में रख दिया जाए
तब भी
वह मरता नहीं
कई साल तक।
बीज को समाप्त करने का
एक ही ढब है
- उसे अंकुरित होने देना
छोटी छोटी जड़ों से निकल कर
नन्हा सा तना
जब तन कर अपनी बात कह लेता है
उसके बाद ही समाप्त होता है
बीज का अस्तित्व।
वो दिन
और उस जैसे जाने कितने दिन
सहनशील, प्रतीक्षारत
जीवित।
********
The thing that shocked me the most about therapy was how seemingly minor days of fights were making me cry over and over again. The days that I thought I forgot. I lived each one for days, wearing the ring for months and feeling the pain every single time. Still unable to speak about many of those days, sobbing quietly into the night.
And this morning, this metaphor came to mind.
I re-read Illusions by Richard Bach.
And wondered why.
Then, today, a change happened that was only possible because I willed it.
And I realised, the reason I was told to re-read this book is to know that I can still will physical changes.
Sweet, good thing to remember.
उसके शब्दों के जहाजों पर चढ़ कर मेरे सपने पंख पाते हैं।
कितना ऊंचा उड़े?
जितना ऊंचे कागज़ के जहाज़ उड़ सकते हैं।
****************
In a parallel universe
there is always
World Peace.
**********
When the music is the same, the words are the same, only the voice adds the magic.
The BEST rendition of Ik kudi that I have heard so far:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqZN6ILVx38
*This is a very famous poem by Punjabi poet Shiv Batalvi ji.
इतने साल हो गए। अब तो बता दो, चाहती क्या हो?
सोच-समझ कर पूछना ये सवाल। कहीं मैं तुम्हारे गले पड़ गई तो?
उसे गले लगना कहते हैं।
बहुत अजीब सी किताब है।
न लेखक परिचय है, ना आलेख!
इतनी उम्दा कविता!!!
पता नहीं आपको कहाँ मिलेगी।
पर ये पंक्तियाँ मैं यहीं सांझा कर देती हूँ:
सपने
कुछ मेरी पहुँच के पार जान पड़ते हैं
कुछ हैं जो अभी पूरे किये जा सकते हैं
कुछ तो इबादत से हासिल हुआ करते हैं
कुछ जो बाज़ार से खरीदे जा सकते हैं
मेरे विश्वास की खुराक थे ये सपने
इन्हीं से थोड़ी बहुत हिम्मत बरकरार थी
दुनिया मेरे सामने अखबार पढ़ती रही
और मैं शायरी सुनाता रहा
नफे नुकसान की परवाह न की
250 का ख्वाब था 15 में लगाया
चाय के दो प्याले और एक केतली हैं मेज़ पर
और इंतज़ार है किसी की जागने का
कोई है जिसे अपनी नींद बहुत प्यारी है
और मैं आराम की बहुत इज़्ज़त करता हूँ
बहुत से टूटे हैं हकीकत से टकराकर
बहुत से लूटे हैं मुकद्दर ने आ कर
बहुत से छोड़ गए होश में आने पर
बहुत से गिर पड़े परदे उठाने पर
जब कभी जीना बेवजह सा लगता है
तब मेरे सपनों की अफीम काम आती है
पाँच सात सपनों को गोल मोल कर के
हौसला सा एक तय्यार हो जाता है
सपनों में सब मेरी मर्ज़ी के मुताबिक था
लेकिन मेरी मर्ज़ी इतनी सयानी ना थी।
सबने कहा ये भरोसा नहीं पागलपन है
भाग दौड़ करते हुए सपने ही सच होते हैं
मैंने कहा नहीं ऐसे भी इंसान हैं
जो छाते को खोल दें तो बारिश होने लगती है
*********
कुछ ना होगा इस कदर किश्तों पर जीने से
दिल वालों को ज़िंदगी नसीब हुआ करती है
सागर खत्म नहीं होते घूंट घूंट पीने से
********
मैं प्यार हूँ
मैं होता हूँ, मुझे किया नहीं जाता
मैं लाज़मी हूँ, हर इत्मीनान के लिए
मैं सबसे अहम हिस्सा हूँ हर एक तस्सली का
मैं बहता हूँ, हर इख्तियार की नसों में
*************
बेबसी की हवा का नाम शायद भूत हो
*******
किसका था कितना कसूर आखिर तक न तय हुआ
आरज़ू मुजरिम हुई तकदीर सब कुछ सह गई
*****
तजुर्बा कहाँ मिलता है उधार किसी को
******
Two days ago, I was going to my neighbour's house to pick up the key I had left there. We usually leave a key there when we travel. My meditation said, 'Don't go."
I ignored that warning, because, what could go wrong with going to a neighbour's house and picking up a key?
Well, you don't just walk in and out, so we got to talking, and she mentioned that she has a strong pain in her left shoulder. In that moment, i physically felt the pain move from her to me. I came home and didn't think much of it, shrugging it off as my own overthinking.
The next day, the pain started. Mild. I was surprised. Left shoulder. I had had nothing of the sort ever. My tendonitis was right shoulder, and over a decade ago. No issues with the left shoulder ever.
Today, the pain is really strong. I went to get a massage. That usually takes care of small muscular aches and pains. By night, the pain is worse. I have already popped a pill and am now sitting with the tens physiotherapy machine plugged in on the shoulder (I have one at home for the recurrent hip pain).
So, I went to my meditation, apologised, and asked for directions. At the time of writing this, the meditation is laughing. "Now go through with it. You asked for it."
Sigh! Well.
The point of this post is, energy is real. Do not ever laugh it off.
I routinely fall ill and get better based on the energy of the room and people around. So far, I have not learnt how to control that, close one's aura etc. But I know it works. Every single time.
मंज़िलें क्या बताएँ मैं क्या हूँ
ज़िंदगी का उदास रस्ता हूँ
काम आई न कुछ शनासाई
शहर की भीड़ में अकेला हूँ
ख़ार-ओ-ख़स ही सही मगर यारो
मैं भी सहन-ए-चमन का हिस्सा हूँ
आप अपनी सुनाइए 'मासूम'
मेरी क्या पूछते हैं अच्छा हूँ
~ मासूम शर्क़ी
****
There is a song in a Hindi film that is also a ghazal:
यूं हसरतों के दाग मुहब्बत में धो लिए
खुद दिल से दिल की बात कही, और रो दिए
******
And a Ghalib sher that comes to mind:
कब से हूँ क्या बताऊँ जहां-ने-खराब में
शब और हिज्र को भी रखूँ गर हिसाब में
*****
घर
एक जगह का नहीं
एक इंसान का नाम होता है
If you must have the longer version: (I don't. For me, the poem ends in 3 short lines).
कभी माँ
कभी "वो"
कभी बच्चे
कभी कोई पोता-पोती
कभी कोई जो
रिश्ते में
कुछ भी नहीं।
Home
is not a place
it is a person.
At various times
Mom
You
The Kids
Grandkids
And sometimes
Someone who
bears no
label at all
but is
the shelter.
ਘਰ
ਥਾਂ ਨਹੀਂ
ਬੰਦੇ ਦਾ ਨਾਉ ਹੁੰਦਾ ਹੈ
I miss you
Like the night misses
the day
Like the boat misses
the bay
Like the barn misses
the hay
Like November misses
May
For as long as i can remember, my self-concept has been that of a fumbly, awkward teenager. Then, the world's dowdiest housewife. Because that is how my family made me feel - awkward, unsuitable, ugly, and dowdy.
But in recent years, people have told me that I also exude another energy - kind, warm, and, according to some, unwittingly sensuous (meaning, they can see that I have no idea of having that effect on people, but it's there nonetheless).
Yesterday, Roopam came home and as I was walking to my room through the corridor, she asked me to pause. And she put me in a different mindspace. And asked me to pose just so. She said, "You won't believe this is you."
And I didn't!
Those pictures had another quality. But they also initiated another shift in me. For the first time, I started to own, not just acknowledge, but accept, that I might have another kind of energy - kind, warm, and positive.
When, in meditation, I see my own energy, it is usually the spiritual domain. My aura is not white or even golden yellow. It is still the healing yellow, and transitioning towards pink (spiritual love) and white.
But this energy, belonging to this world, is new to me - the acknowledgement of self as a being also of this planet - that does not happen.
I was introduced to blogging by Deepa. And then made some friends on the way - some quickly, like Wriju, Nomorechanteddays, and some slowly, like Z, Dee, Mampi, nm, and Adee.
For as long as i have known him, Adee has been a wordweaver. When we met, I was not surprised to learn that he is also a lovely person. We met at Book fairs (predictable, right?) and at his wedding. :)
But this post is about Adee the wordweaver.
His poetry evokes images in the head spontaneously. Without using too many words, he still manages to draw vivid pictures and evoke deep emotions.
And then, his photographs... that play of light and shade, going just so, creating sharp angles that we did not see, and bringing out unique perspectives..
Adee is not a wordsmith. A wordsmith carves and leaves something out from the whittle. He is a wordweaver. A weaver takes all the threads, and makes a lovely tapestry. Nothing feels extraneous or excluded. Everything comes together, everything finds a place.
I often say that life is Navrasa - all 9 emotions are needed to feel complete. Adee's writing is that. It is positive, negative, fearful, hopeful, sad, happy, romantic, and despondent.
His old blog, Delhi Dreams, is no longer available, and thats a loss to us.
But https://www.aloksaini.in/ is, and .. don't take my word for it. Just read him.
He is on Insta as https://www.instagram.com/chitrastories/#
We hear so much about toxic masculinity. But what other kind of masculinity is there? What about positive masculinity? What would that mean to you?
Likewise, toxic feminism. This means that there must be a positive feminism too. Or, to be consistent, positive femininity? What would that look like?
These are the questions I thought about this week.
To me, positive masculinity means someone who is caring, kind, and protective.
Positive femininity means a presence that is kind, caring, and nurturing.
To be kind and to care is necessary for a family or any human interaction to survive. Protection and nurturing are the two elements that then go into creating a unit that grows. Protection provides the boundary, and nurturing provides the nourishment.
What would positive masculinity and femininity mean to you?
किसी और को बढ़ावा देने के लिए, अपने आप को घटाना नहीं चाहिए। उसे self-deprecation कहते हैं।
अपने को अच्छा महसूस कराने के लिए, किसी और का दिल नहीं तोड़ना चाहिए। उसे narcissism कहते हैं।
चाँद की रोशनी छुप न जाए, इस के लिए सूरज अपने आप को मद्धम नहीं करता।
Don't whittle yourself away to add to someone else's personality.
Don't break a heart to make yourself feel good.
The sun does not reduce its shine so the moon might be visible. The moon just chooses a different time, and they both rule the sky.
During this time, when I have started to prioritise my mental health above most other things, I have been making some changes:
A. Realising that I have lovely friends, and being very grateful for them, their love, and their support at this time.
B. I also became aware of some friends who, for years, have used the love that I give freely, and responding to that love with selfishness, unresponsiveness, or even meanness. Instinctively, I have started to avoid these friends. When one of them calls to ask how I am doing, I say, I am on a mental health break. But during this break, I have actually been meeting my friends a lot MORE, not less. The fact that these friends are the energy that I have wanted to avoid during healing, made me go back and introspect - when did this person last make me feel like a friend?
For most friends, I am glad to say, the feeling of avoidance is based on their communication patterns, rather than a lack of love at their end. For some, I am just not willing to step into the pattern of pretend-love-that-is-actually-their-self-aggrandisation. So, these friends, I have just instinctively let go of. I don't know if I will miss their presence in the future, but for now, it just feels like a handcuff or a chain taken away, and I feel much the lighter for it.
रूमानी इश्क 8 में से सिर्फ 1 तरह का इश्क होता है
पर अपने शेरों, किस्सों, कहानियों में,
हम उसे इकलौता इश्क बना देते हैं।
इन्द्र है, शिव बना देते हैं।
One of the major issues i was grappling with was to create a Will.
For a week, I asked around, for a professional. For any support.
People suggested online will making. I checked out the charges etc. They are basically templates.
So finally, i got down to it myself.
And accordingly, the Will was drafted, with help from ChatGPT.
I love it! Its exhaustive, and its wonderful!
It covers my wishes for organ donation, for digital identity, for copyright on my fiction, etc.
It asks that this blog and all other digital content be deleted without reading once I am dead.
And yay!!!! Its done!!!!
Update: 20th April 2025: It will be signed tomorrow. Fingers crossed.
On a scale of 1-10, how sad has your life been?
Because I am in self-pity mode, I'd say 5-6.
And when not in self-pity mode?
Then, I would say 4.
That happy?
The thing about happiness is, that it becomes invisible to us after a while. Like we don't notice the strength of the bricks in the foundation of our house, but the joy of living in a house that withstands storms, earthquakes, etc., is HUGE. Only, after a while, we start taking it for granted, and it becomes invisible to us. That is why, periodically, we need to remember the large building blocks of life that are in place. For me, it is this - I was given the mission of my life early on, I was given my biggest desire from life, AND, i have an invisible guardian angel.
If the world is a place of comparisons, I value having these blessings. I do not have crazy money, love, and a designation of envy. And in MY scheme of asks, they were important, but not more important than the daily miracles I am blessed with.
Daily miracles?
When I get arrythmia, I keep a pleth just to keep track. Now, I like to see a certain shape in the pleth. It just makes me happy. No reason. I will tell you the most incredible thing. When i put on the pleth and don't look at it, it has a shape. But the second I start observing the pleth, it takes the shape I like. I look away for a minute, and the shape goes back to what it was.
While booking tickets this time, I was told to buy refundable fares. I always buy only non refundable fares because my travel plans are pretty stable. But this time, someone guided my hand to the refundable fares. Surprisingly, for the first time in forever, those travel plans changed and i saved a lot of money.
At just the right time, I got a therapist that worked out very well.
The anchoring that comes from daily praying.
The love of friends.
The conversations with the child.
The henna designs on the hand.
"I don't care" is a trauma response.
Love is an emotion. It cannot be mandated. It is perfectly ok to not feel love for genetic relationships. They were not in your life, so they are not in your head. (or in your memories.)
You say you don't want to make excuses for their behaviour, and yet you are... you are trying to justify why they might have done what they are doing.
***********
Also a beautiful story:
After the session, I usually thank my therapist. I did that at the end of the session, and she responded:
Thank you for being so vulnerable. Thank you for letting me help.
<Pause>
And Thank you for being so beautiful and giving me this view. The couch is green, you are dressed in white and there are pink flowers next to you. Its like being in a meadow.
Me: Tell me more..
The way she described how her eyes interpreted that view was so lovely, that i went out and bought myself the same pink flowers and brought them home.
And I think.. this will be one of those lovely memories. :)
कल हम मिल नहीं पाए।
इसलिए कल, मैंने सिर्फ तुम्हें प्यार किया।
आज भी, सिर्फ तुम्हें प्यार करने का दिन है।
कल के लिए भी बस यही काम सोच कर रखा है।
Yesterday, we could not meet.
So, I loved you all day.
Today is the day to love you all day.
And tomorrow, I plan to do the exact same thing.
*************
In my defence, I am allowed to spew total insaneness. its part of therapy :)
तुमने जलाया था
कि राख हो जाऊं
मैं कुंदन निकला
********
You lit the fire
to turn me to ashes
I realised
I was gold dust.
***********
Gold dust and blobs look like ordinary earth/blobs before they are refined, then torched, and emerge as pure gold. This 24-carat thin gold is called Kundan in Hindi.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eg1X6SKfTQo
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/X8zRP7w_2n0
I realised today that it is harder to let go of a friendship than it is to let go of a relationship.
In a relationship, all said and done, we retain a sense of self. In friendships, we give without accounting, we accept people as they are, and we do not always expect friends to be polite or even not rude.
But suddenly, one day, they are exceptionally insensitive, and we find ourselves shocked.
Then, we sit down and ask self an honest question - "When was the last time this friend was a "friend"? When did I last feel nice while interacting with them?"
For me, that answer was "15 years". The last positive memory I have with this friend is from 15 years ago. For one and a half decades, I had been pouring into this friendship, without even pausing to think.
When a romantic relationship goes bad, I usually say, "I love you very much, but I respect me more." With startling clarity, I realised that it was time to say the same thing to a one-sided friendship too. And its really, really hard.
"औरत को बांध कर मारना चाहिए। फिर वो कहीं नहीं भाग सकती।" - अमृता प्रीतम की कहानी "मैं सब जानता हूँ" में ठेकेदार ने ये बात कही थी। और कल, फेस्बूक पर एक औरत ने यही बात लिखी।
ये बात सच है। बच्चों वाली औरत बच्चों को छोड़ कर कहीं नहीं भाग सकती। फेस्बूक वाली औरत ने लिखा, "पर एक दिन, अगर मैं मुंह खोल दूँ तो?"
मैं उस औरत को बताना चाहती थी, कि मुंह खोलने से दिन शांत हो जाते हैं और रातें और भी काली।
पर मैंने कुछ नहीं लिखा। हर औरत की रस्सी भी अलग होती है, और उसकी गांठों का कसाव भी अलग।
मुझे तकलीफ इस सोच से है, कि एक इंसान को बांध कर मारने की इच्छा है। उस इच्छा का होना भर ही मुझे समझ नहीं आता।
इस सोच में, बच्चे प्रेम का प्रतीक नहीं होते। औरत को बांधने वाली रस्सियाँ होते हैं - जो बच्चों को कभी नहीं होना चाहिए।
*********
"A woman who is tied before she is hit is not able to run away. You should tie a woman down with children before hitting her." - This was a line in a short story by Amrita Pritam.
And last week, this was written by a woman on Facebook.
It is true. Women with children cannot run from bad marriages as easily. That is why men have suicides and women have autoimmune disorders. We cannot die.
The poster on Facebook wrote, "But what if I were to open my mouth one day..?"
I wanted to tell that woman that it won't change anything. It might make the days more peaceful but the nights will become darker and more unpredictable.
But my issue is not with the comment, or the possibility of opening the mouth. My issue is with the core thought process that wants to tie up another human being and beat them. With embedded sadism that is so mainstream that it finds acceptance in our daily conversations!!!
In this destructive thought process, children are not a symbol of love or union. They are tools of manipulation. Ropes that bind a victim and make her helpless. And children should never be that.
I want to call out this embedded sadism. But don't know how.
ਬੂਹੇ ਬਾਰੀਆਂ
ਆਪਾਂ ਬਨਾਏ ਤੇ ਸੀ
ਹਵਾ ਦੇ ਆਨ ਜਾਨ ਲਈ
ਪਰ ਇਸਤੇਮਾਲ ਕੀਤੇ
ਸਾਹ ਘੁੱਟਣ ਨੂਂ
Boohe Baariyaan
Apaan banaaye te si
Hawa de aan jaan layi
Par istemaal kitte
Saah ghuttan nu
***********
Doors and windows
were made
to keep the air flowing
but were used
to suffocate.
जितना सुधार दिया है खुद को मैंने
उतना तो मैं खराब भी नहीं था
जिस बेरहमी से तोड़ा है ज़िंदगी तूने
उतना बड़ा तो मेरा ख्वाब भी नहीं था
- From the Insta of Saima123. Don't know the name of the poet.
मैं हल्दी सी हूँ।
चोट लग जाए, तो खुद को पीस कर चोट पर लगा देती हूँ,
और सारा दर्द सोख लेती हूँ।
I am like turmeric.
If you get hurt, I will crush myself and apply a poultice
To take all the hurt away.
*The translation does no justice to the original.
Punjabi version:
ਮੈਂ ਹਲਦੀ ਗੰਡੇ ਦੀ ਪੋਟਲੀ ਹਾਣਿਆ
ਕਿਤੇ ਲੱਗ ਜਾਵੇ ਸੱਟ
ਤੇ ਆਪ ਸੜ ਕੇ
ਸਾਰੀ ਪੀੜ ਪੀ ਲੈਸਾਂ।
Main Haldi Gande dee potli Haaniyaa
Kite lagg jaave satt
Te aap sadd ke
saaree Peed Pee Laisaan
That crime is my fave genre is obvious.
This series of short stories and novellas from the golden age of crime - early 1900s, has been quite the favorite.
Unfortunately, I did not enjoy the 4th book quite as much as the others.
Child's play by Edmund Crispin and Passengers by Ethel Lina White stand out.
As for the other stories, the less said the better. The longest story in the book is Shadowed Sunlight (or something similar). The plot is great but the execution is excruciating.
I also used to love the language in writing from this time. These stories, maybe it was just me, missed the mark on that too.
I would not recommend this as the book with which you start the series. And if you miss this one, you wouldn't have missed a lot. But if it is in your hands, give it a weekend. It might be a good weekend read.
मांगी - तांगी हुई सी कुछ बात
दिन की झोली में भीख की रातें
मेरी दहलीज़ पर भी लाई थी
ज़िंदगी दे गई है सौगातें
************
चाँद तन्हा है आसमान तन्हा
दिल मेरा है कहाँ कहाँ तन्हा
बुझ गई आस, छुप गया तारा
थरथराता रहा धुआँ तन्हा
ज़िंदगी क्या इसी को कहते हैं
जिस्म तन्हा है और जां तन्हा
हमसफ़र कोई 'गर कोई मिले भी कहीं
दोनों चलते रहें यहाँ तन्हा
जलती बुझती सी रोशनी के पड़े
सिमटा सिमटा सा इक मकां तन्हा
राह देखा करेगा सदियों तक
छोड़ जाएंगे ये जहां तन्हा
***********
टुकड़े टुकड़े दिन बीता, धज्जी धज्जी रात मिली
जिसका जितना आँचल था, उतनी ही सौगात मिली
रिमझिम रिमझिम बूंदों में, ज़हर भी है और अमृत भी
आँखें हंस दीं, दिल रोया, ये अच्छी बरसात मिली
जब चाहा दिल को समझें, हंसने की आवाज सुनी
जैसे कोई कहता हो, ले फिर तुझको मात मिली
मातें कैसी घातें क्या, चलते रहना आठ पहर
दिल-सा साथी जब पाया, बेचैनी भी साथ मिली
होंठों तक आते- आते, जाने कितने रूप भरे
जलती बुझती आँखों में, सादा सी जो बात मिली
**********
आगाज़ तो होता है अंजाम नहीं होता
जब मेरी कहानी में वो नाम नहीं होता
जब ज़ुल्फ़ की कालिख में गम जाए कोई राही
बदनाम सही लेकिन गुमनाम नहीं होता
बहते हुए आँसू ने कहा आँखों से थम कर
जो मय से पिघल जाए वो जाम नहीं होता
(How much I LOVE this sher)
दिन डूबे या डूबे बारात लिए कश्ती
साहिल पे मगर कोई कोहराम नहीं होता
*******
बैठे हैं रास्ते में बयाबान-ए- दिल सजा कर
शायद इसी तरफ से इक दिन बहार गुज़रे
****
मेरी तरह सम्हाले कोई जो दर्द जानूँ
इक बार दिल से हो कर परवरदिगार गुज़रे
*******
Today, in meditation, I got to speaking about space - that dead place just beyond our atmosphere.
"I have told you before - there is no such thing as a dead place. You have just not tapped into the consciousness that exists in those entities yet. They are not talking to you. Does not mean that they are not talking."
The rocks, the nebulae, the darkness, the galaxies - they are all ALIVE?
There is no other way of being. How can a dead thing revolve? Rotate? How can it maintain consistent movement around a central core? How can all these entities remain moving in synergy, if they are not syncing with each other? What is the source of their endless energy?
They are all conscious. They are all communicating. You have experienced the Universe as a dark place, but it is, in fact, full of light. You know it to be dead, but it is alive and pulsating. Your consciousness is limited. Think of it as two radio stations not being able to listen to each other because they exist on different frequencies. It is similar. The radio stations CAN learn to sync with each other.
Human consciousness does not sync with animal or plant consciousness either. In fact, without spoken or written senses, it does not even communicate with other humans. But these other conscious entities are sentient. They are ALIVE.
What then, is the best way to communicate with the Universe? To make our connection with that large world outside richer?
What will you do with richer consciousness? Have you ever considered tapping into the consciousness of your fellow living beings? Humans and non humans? It is there, just believe it. You may not be able to sync with it just yet, but it is there. Humans have known it before. Energy has always known it.
"When I am dead, my dearest.." was read many years ago and immediately became my most favorite death poem.
Today, i read another great death poem by the same poetess, and I so want to share both of these:
"The cells remember," they say.
I believe them
Because there is pain
even where
there is no memory.
Then it is the cells, innit,
that need to scream their pain away
And heal?
The cells will release
Their pain
in microcosms of quarks
That we cannot see
but we will know
when its done
because the water
will feel clean.
And the cells
will breathe
freely again.
I wish you
Every dream
that you held on to
while helping others
realise theirs
Every positive vibe
that you have sent
into the world
like a butterfly
to make its way
back to you.
I wish you joy
and love
and care.
And happiness
beyond compare.
Success,
and some of that stardust
that you sprinkle
generously
on others.
The kindness that you have sown
your whole life
to make its way
back to you.
All this, and more
I wish you for you
This year
and always.
वो ऐसा ही था।
तुम्हारी आँखों में गहरे देख कर, तुम में तुम्हें ढूंढता था।
अगर मिल जाओ, तो दोस्ती कर लेता था।
ना मिलो, तो कभी तकरार नहीं करता था।
"मरे हुओं से क्या लड़ना?"
तुम रोज़ 'कल' कहोगे
और गुलाबों का मौसम
गुज़र जाएगा
Everyday you will say,
"Tomorrow, for sure"
and spring
will pass.
मेले की भीड़ में डरता है अकेलापन
काँपता है
कहीं कोई दबोच न ले
कर न बैठे कोई कटाक्ष
दुबक जाता है किसी कोने में
फिर भी
हार नहीं मानता अकेलापन I
Too good a poem to not share.
आपका बेटा कितना बड़ा है?
फलाने साल का।
मेरा भी कुछ इतना ही है। वो भी ऐसी ही बातें करता है, इसलिए पूछ लिया।
अच्छा। इस उम्र के बच्चे प्यार तो बहुत करते हैं, पर पढ़ाई में तंग बड़ा करते हैं। आपका बेटा पढ़ लेता है खुद से?
वो हॉस्टल में है। 3 साल से। घर में भरा पूरा परिवार है, पर वक़्त आने पर, कोई भी नहीं है।
एक ही बच्चा है?
हाँ जी। पता है, मैं बहुत बड़े परिवार से हूँ। मेरी 5 बहनें और 2 भाई हैं। सब के 2-2, 3-3 बच्चे हैं। बस मैं ही हूँ, जिसका एक ही बच्चा है।
क्यूंकि उन सब को घर मिले, आपको ससुराल।
उस दिन मैं
कविता की किताब
नहीं पढ़ रहा था
खुद को सिखा रहा था
तुम्हें पढ़ना
ਉਸ ਦਿਨ ਮੈਂ
ਗੀਤ ਨਹੀਂ ਸੀ ਪੜ੍ਹਦਾ
ਸੀਖਣ ਬੈਠਾ ਸੀ
ਤੈਨੂ ਪੜ੍ਹਨਾ
Us din main
geet nahi see padhdaa
Sikhan baithaa see
tainu padhna
I was today years old when i realised that this song:
Today, I took out the noose
to hang myself.
And I put
the "To Let" board
on the house.
Asked a few volunteers
to come and take the body away.
- Didn't want any of my 'own' people
to touch it.
Called the lawyer
and told her
I'll die intestate.
And then
I made my bed
and slept.
- Might as well wait for you.
- 11th Jan 1998. :)
ਫਾਹਾ ਬਣ ਲੇਹਾ
ਪੱਖੇ ਨਾਲ
ਘਰ ਦੇ ਮੂਰਹੇ "ਟੁ ਲ਼ੇਟ" ਦੀ ਤੱਖਤੀ ਟੰਗ 'ਤੀ
ਸ਼ਮਸ਼ਾਨ ਵਾਲੇਆਂ ਨੂਂ ਦੱਸ ਤਾ
ਬੋਡੀ ਕਿੰਨੇ ਵਜੇ ਲੈ ਕੇ ਜਾਣੀ ਏ
ਸ਼ਰੀਕਾਂ ਨੂਂ ਮੋਯਾ ਮੂੰਹ ਨਾ ਤੱਕਣਾ ਪਵੇ
ਵਕੀਲ ਨੂਂ ਵੀ ਦੱਸ ਤਾ,
ਕਿਸੇ ਨੂਂ ਕੁਝ ਨਹੀਂ ਮਿਲਣਾ।
ਫੇਰ ਬਿਸਤਰਾ ਵਿਛਾਏਆ
ਤੇ ਲੇਟ ਗਯੀ
- ਚਲ ਉਡੀਕ ਹੀ ਲੈਣੇ ਆਂ ਤੈਨੂ।
Faaha bann leha
pakkhe naal
ghar de murhe "To let" dee takhti tang ditti
shamshaan vaaleyaan nu dass taa
body kinne vajje lai ke jaani e
shreekaan nu moya munh na takna pave.
vakeel nu vi dass taa
kise nu kujjh nahi milnaa
Pher bistara vichhaayaa
te let gayi
Chal, udeek hi laine aan tainu.
:)
In a parallel universe,
You and I,
Perhaps...
That parallel universe
Is the stardust
that makes up
Hope.
When you recover from a viral fever, you have lingering weakness even after the fever is gone. For a while, you are just weak. There is nothing visibly wrong with you, and yet you give yourself time. To heal.
It is the same with mental health. Whether you are coming out of depression, melancholia, or just plain sadness. Just like the viral, there is a period when you feel ready, but aren't. That is the period of imperceptible weakness.
I am going through this now. My diagnosis is complex PTSD. After 2.5 months, I am finally able to eat, sleep, and do basic things like that. But if I don't get to the therapist once a week, it all comes gushing back. The worst thing is, I cannot cry. Not even now. So, it has to be talking, breathing, writing.
This week, I won't be able to get to therapy because of something at home. And I told my therapist, "This general sense of wellness can make me feel braver than I should."
So, this week, I intend to not be very brave.
Do the walk, exercise, and journaling.
And then, we will see what we will see.
PS: The blog has not had personal mental health posts before, but what the hell, I am the only one reading. Why not? If not this, what. if not now, when. :)
This is meant to be a fun, entertaining read on the topics of teen dating, love, and well, marriage.
It is a read on these topics and is generally fun too.
The book produces chuckles at the right places.
The parts about teen dating in Philadelphia are more history than nostalgia inducing for most of us in India.
But the parts on marriage.. oh well! Monogamous/androus marriages are universal in their fights, misunderstandings, and shenanigans.
That section of the book produces familiar nods than chuckles, but always with a knowing smile on the face, rarely a frown. The issues of domestic bliss/blizzards are presented in a truly funny way.
This is a good read for that short airplane ride, or while sitting in the sun, looking for a quick entertainer.
कुछ ग़म मेरे दिल से सम्हाले नहीं जाते
आँसू भी उन्हें साथ बहा ले नहीं जाते
ग़म हो के खुशी आँखों में आ जाते हैं आँसू
दुख सुख में मेरे चाहने वाले नहीं जाते
ये वक़्त फक्त पाँव के छालों का हैं मरहम
पड़ जाते हैं जो दिल में वो छाले नहीं जाते
एक वक़्त था, पी जाता था सौ ग़म के समंदर
दो अश्क भी अब मुझ से सम्हाले नहीं जाते
********
मेरा दिल है और आपकी याद है,
ये घर आज कितना आबाद है
**********
काश ऐसा तालमेल सकूत व सदा में हो
उसको पुकारूँ तो उसी को सुनाई दे
*****
शहर में तो रुखसती दहलीज़ तक महदूद है
गाँव में पक्की सड़क तक लोग पहुंचाने गए
*******
तेरे पास आ के हँसाऊँगा तुझे लेकिन
जाते-जाते तेरे दामन को भिगो जाऊंगा
*******
And one new one from the poetry group:
मुँह ज़बानी न जताता कि मोहब्बत क्या है
मैं तुझे कर के दिखाता कि मोहब्बत क्या है
कैसे सीने से लगाऊँ कि किसी और के हो
मेरे होते तो बताता कि मोहब्बत क्या है
ख़ूब समझाता तुझे तेरी मिसालें दे कर
काश तू पूछने आता कि मोहब्बत क्या है
*******
बिछड़ के तुझ से न ख़ुश रह सकूंगा सोचा था
तिरी जुदाई ही वजह-ए-नशात हो गई है
- Tahzeeb Hafi
**********
अपनी वजह-ए- बर्बादी सुनिए तो मज़े की है
ज़िंदगी से यूं खेले जैसे दूसरे की है
- जावेद अख्तर
*****
ये किसकी तुम्हें नज़र लग गई है
बहारों के मौसम में मुरझा रहे हो
*******
वो ना आएं तो सताती है खलिश सी दिल को
वो जो आयें तो खलिश और जवां होती है
***
मुझ से मिलने के वो करता था बहाने कितने
अब गुजारेगा मेरे साथ ज़माने कितने
जिस तरह मैंने तुझे अपना बना रखा है
सोचते होंगे यही बात ना जाने कितने
तुम नया ज़ख्म लगाओ तुम्हें इस से क्या है
भरने वाले हैं अभी ज़ख्म पुराने कितने
***********
तुम आँखों की बरसात बचाए हुए रखना
कुछ लोग अभी आग लगाना नहीं भूले
****
अच्छा सा कोई मौका, तन्हा सा कोई आलम
हर वक़्त का रोना तो, बेकार का रोना है
*******
जो तेरे पास नहीं था ऐ दोस्त,
तुझको दुनिया ने वो क्या देना था
***********
चंद रिश्तों के खिलौने हैं जो हम सब खेलते हैं
वरना सब जानते हैं, कौन यहाँ किसका है?
************
बेसहारों से सहारों की तवक्को मत कर
बादलों से कभी साया नहीं मांगा जाता
जरफ से अपने ज़्यादा नहीं मांगा जाता
प्यास लगती हो तो दरिया नहीं मांगा जाता
मुस्तकल क्यूँ नहीं बस जाते मेरी आँखों में
इन मकानों का किराया नहीं मांगा जाता
एक शब ऐसी भी आती है अँधेरों वाली
जब चरागों से उजाला नहीं मांगा जाता
ना जलायी गई न दफ़्न हुई
एक मय्यत है ज़िंदगी मेरी
I have no idea who the poets are. If you do know, pls comment and I will add.
In my spiritual practice, one consistent question i used to ask was - If the origin and the destination of the universe are predetermined, then why do zillions of beings lead minuscule lives for zillions of years? What is the point of the circle of life?
The answer I got was complex and simple at the same time - If the blood in your body always has to remain at 5-6 liters, why do zillions of RBCs circulate for 180 days each? What is the point of their circle of life?
The point of that circle of life is to keep you alive. You - who are both an organism and an ecosystem. Everything - from the quark to the multiverse, is both an organism and an ecosystem. And an ecosystem is a living, breathing entity. Every element must complete its journey. That circulation - that is life. Consciousness is often compared to a grain of light. The circle of life is necessary because the universe is not wood, diamonds, and rock. It is consciousness. The only carrier of consciousness is the tiny entities at various stages of awareness. They are ALL necessary to ensure that the universe remains ever-new. We cannot forget selfishness or base traits - they are integral to consciousness too. Like photons are charged particles that carry light from point A to point B, beings are sentient particles that ensure that Consciousness remains in the Universe.
Why is suicide prohibited in every single religion of the world? Because lives are not incidental. Each life has a mandatory journey that it has to complete. Think of it as being in a grade in school. You can drop out of second grade because it is too hard. But will they put you in third grade? No. They will tell you to take your time, drop a year, two if you want. But when you rejoin, it is going to be second grade only, not third grade.
It is exactly the same with births. You can choose to end a birth early. You can also take time in the time space. But when you take a physical birth again, it WILL be for the same lessons. For the same objective that your soul had set out originally.
It is your timeless soul that sets its path. It decides how much or how little it will do in each birth. Like a grain of light, it reaches the destination (which Hinduism calls Nirvana).
Remember the endless pillar of light that Shiva showed to Brahma and Vishnu? That is our existence. That is the journey of the universe. No beginning and no end.
If you take a picture of the sun or the moon at the exact same spot for a year and super impose the pics, you will find that they make a symbol known to men and mathematicians. The symbol is infinity. Let that sink in - infinity is a loop.
That is the spiritual answer to your question - what is the purpose of life. If we have to die anyway, why live? The RBCs have the answer. We are all photons.
वो मुझे ऐसे देखता था, जैसे एक मर्द एक औरत को देखता है – हसरत से।
वो
मुझ से ऐसे बात करता था, जैसे एक लड़का एक लड़की से बात करता है – हसरत से, पर उस
हसरत को पूरा न कर पाने की मजबूरी बातों-बातों में बयान करते हुए। थोड़ा झिझक कर, थोड़ा रुक कर।
बात
पूरी हो जाने के बाद, बस एक छोटे से पल के लिए
रुक जाता था।
***********
I thought I'd use this as the start of a short story, but the thought is beautiful, and complete enough to live by itself.
Makes one wonder - gadya mein kitni aisi kavita numa baatein chhipi hoti hain, jinhein ham padhte to hain, par un par gaur nahi karte..
ਸੁਪਣੇ ਤੱਕੇ ਜਾਂਦੇ ਹਨ
ਤੇ ਸੁੱਖਣੇ ਸੁੱਖੇ ਜਾਂਦੇ ਨੇ
ਐਨੀ ਜੇਹੀ ਵਿੱਥ ਹੈ
ਸੁਪਨ ਕੇ ਸੁੱਖਣ ਵਿੱਚ
ਹਾਥ ਚੁੱਕਣ ਜਿਨੀ
ਬੁੱਲ ਹਿਲਾਣ ਜਿਨੀ
Supne Takke jaande han
te sukhne sukkhe jaande ne
Aini jehi vith hai
supan te sukhan vich
haath chukkan jinni
bull hilaan jinni
सपने देखे जाते हैं
और मन्नत मांगी जाती है
बस, इतना सा फ़र्क है
सपने और मन्नत में
हाथ उठाने जितना
होंठ हिलाने जितना
Mannat is when we ask God for something specific and promise to do something when the prayer is answered.
Dreams are seen
Mannats are prayed for.
That is the difference
between a dream
and divine help
The raising of the hand
the moving of the lips.
I was today years old when I first:
A. Did gidda in a sari
B. Celebrated Lohri by quickly putting a phulkari dupatta on top of a Mysuru crepe silk sari
तुम्हें "न" कहने का अधिकार है।
मुझे
नहीं है।
You have the right to say "No"
And I
Don't.
कहते हैं कि डूबते को तिनके का सहारा होता है। पर उस तिनके की कहानी तिनका बनने से शुरू नहीं होती। शुरू में वह तना होता है - प्रमुख सहारा। ठीक तने की तरह तन कर खड़ा हुआ।
फिर उसके पास कुछ वक़्त की कमी होना शुरू हो जाती है, कुछ हम से गलतियाँ होनी शुरू हो जाती हैं - डाल में नामक तेज़, कपड़े ठीक से इस्तरी नहीं, घर आए दोस्त के साथ थोड़ा सा हंसी मज़ाक, उनके हमारी किसी सहेली के साथ फ्लर्ट करने पर हमारा चिढ़ जाना - इन सब बातों से तने का मन हम से उतारने लगता है। इस में तने का कोई दोष नहीं। इस तरह, उदासीनता के मारे, तना टहनी बन जाता है, फिर टहनी से सीख, और इसी तरह घटते प्रेम के साथ साथ, तना भी घाट कर तिनका बन जाता है।
तब फिर, डूबता इस तिनके का सहारा क्यूँ ले?
क्यूंकि वह जो तना है न, जो तने से टहनी, टहनी से सींख बना है, वह हमें किसी और का सहारा लेने नहीं देगा। खुद १० मधुशाला लिख आए, हमें झट से याद दिला देगा कि हाला प्रेम में हराम है।
फिर हमें सिखाया जाता है कि डूबते को तिनके का सहारा। पर किस डूबते को तिनका बचाने आया है? ये पाठ हमें पढ़ाया ही इसलिए जाता है कि जब हम डूब कर मर जाएँ तो कोई ये गिला न कर सके कि तिनके ने बचाया क्यूँ नहीं? न बचाने का सामर्थ्य है न अभिलाषा। जब तुम्हें ये जताया जाने लगे कि तने से तिनका होने का सफर तुम्हारे कारण है, तो यह भी समझ जाना कि तिनका किसी को नहीं बचाता। तिनके को कोई फर्क नहीं पड़ता। तिनके को पता भी नहीं चलता।
In the last 3 days, I happened to watch 3 films