Rolling Wheels..

Time her fuel,
Destiny sits at the wheel,
The smiles,
The tears,
All milestones for me,
And she drives as she feels.

I sit beside,
try figuring her mind,
The questions pester her,
Silence the only reply,
I let her be,
Someday answers I'll find.

Let go she whispers,
I am already high on the speed,
Journey fading to experiences,
Experiences fading to memory,
and then memories fade,
it's another life on rolling wheels.

राजा भैया

सतयुग में साधू मुनि, कमंडल और मालाएं लेकर तपस्या आरम्भ करते थे,कलयुग में हमारे राजा भैया अपने लैपटॉप और इन्टरनेट को ले के बैठे हुए थे।

हालाकि हम रोज़मर्रा में तो मेनका बनकर उनका तप भंग नहीं करते, पर आज सवाल वीकेंड की ओल्ड मोंक के जुगाड़, यानी की, उधार का था।

"राजा भैया, अरे सुनिए ना!"

"अबे का है बुडबक? देखे नहीं का कि हम फेसबुक कर रहे हैं?"

अब ये शौक भैया को नया ही चढ़ा था। पहले तोह ऑरकुट पे 'Fraandship' कर के ही खुश हो लिया करते थे, पर जबसे भैया को मालूम पड़ा कि आजकल की सारी युवा जनता ऑरकुट से फेसबुक पर आ  गयी है, तो भैया जी ने भी उतनी ही तेज़ी से हमसे अपनी प्रोफाइल बनाने की सिफारिश की जितनी तेज़ी से आईएस ऑफिसर नक्सल-प्रभावित इलाकों से तबादले की अर्जी डालते हैं|

अब मुफ्त में किसी के घर पे रहने की एवज में इतना तो कर ही सकते हैं ना? बस हमने रजा भैया के पैर पे कुल्हाड़ी मार दी।

फिलहाल, हम इंतज़ार में पीछे बैठ गए, की भैयाजी उठें और अपनी तपस्या और हमारी समस्या दोनों समाप्त करें।

१० मिनट गुज़र गए और भैया जी स्क्रीन को निहार तो ऐसे रहे थे मानो जैसी कोई बालक फर्स्ट टाइम किसी व्यसक अर्थात एडल्ट वेबसाइट का दीदार करता हो। अब ऐसी चीज़ों में किसे दिलचस्पी नहीं होती? हम भी उठ गए, "क्या भैया? सनी भाभी की नयी फिल्म आई है क्या? लिनक्स वाले फोल्डर में डाल दो ना, हम भी देख लेंगे। आखिर जो तेरा है वो मेरा है!"

"अबे चूतिये! साले औरत का सम्मान करना सीखो! किराया लेना शुरू कर दें क्या?"

"अरे नहीं भैया, माफ़ करो, भाभी बोले इसीलिए तो, और हम तो बॉलीवुड वाली फिल्म की बात कर रहे थे। खामखाँ बिफर रहे हो!"

हमारी नज़र गयी स्क्रीन पे; भैया की 'औरत का सम्मान करो' वाली बात, हमारे लिए वैसे ही क्लू थी, जैसे शर्लाक वाटसन को क्लू देता है। हम भी माजरा समझ लिए।

"क्या भैया? १० मिनट से एक ही प्रोफाइल खोल के बैठे हो, कंप्यूटर अटक गया है या नज़र?"

बस, भैया हो गए कश्मीरी सेब और संटी खाए पिछवाड़े की तरह लाल, "काहे मज़ाक उड़ा रहे हो गुड्डू। हमारी उम्र ही कहां रही।"

बात तो सही थी, भैया की उम्र ३२ थी। नाम राजा पर बैंक बैलेंस, ३२००० हज़ार भी नहीं। अब आप सिर्फ हम जैसे कमीनों का पालन-पोषण करने को दोष नहीं दे सकते। भैया हमको चुतिया-चपडघनाति जो भी कहें, पर १० साल आईटी में काम करने पे भी अगर onsite नहीं गए तो आप ही कहो कौन है असली वाला? अपना काम छोड़-छाड़ कर, ऑफिस की सारी लड़कियों के काम निपटाने हेतु NGO कार्यकर्ता बनेंगे तो साला न्यू यॉर्क क्या नागोथाने भी न भेजे कोई मेनेजर तुम्हे!

लेकिन कसम पैदा करने वाले की,  हम हरामी ज़रूर हैं पर नमकहराम नहीं, चढ़ा दिए भैया को,"भाभी जी को फ्रेंड रिक्वेस्ट भेजे क्या?"

"अबे गधा समझे हो क्या हमें? एक्को म्यूच्यूअल फ्रेंड नहीं है और हम फ्रेंड रिक्वेस्ट भेंजेगे क्या? चुतिया लगना मंज़ूर है, चेप नहीं भाई।"

"अरे पर भैया, इ हैं कौन?"

"नयी टेस्टर आई है बे, दिल्ली से!नीवी नाम है। पता कर लिए हैं, हमारे ही गोत्र की है। अम्मा भी राज़ी हो जायेंगी। प्रीती की इसी कारण थोड़ी प्रॉब्लम हो गयी थी न अम्मा को। अच्छा हुआ हमारे कुछ करने से पहले ही, वो मेनेजर ही पटा ले गया उसको।"

"और मेनेजर के माल पे हाथ डालते तो रेटिंग भी जाती भैया।"

"अबे घंटा! साले के कंप्यूटर का पासवर्ड मालूम है हमको। मेनेजर की माँ-बहिन छोड़ो, पूरे खानदान को एक कर देते!"

"बिगडो मत भैया। हमें मालूम है बोंड हो तुम। पर एक डाउट है|"

"बेझिझक बको साले।"

"भैया जी, गोत्र तो ठीक है, पर आप डेवलपर हो, भाभी जी टेस्टर। बनेगी क्या? घर में भी नोक-झोंक न हो जाए?"

"अबे ससुर के नाती, पूरी accenture में साला क्या एक ही प्रोजेक्ट है? दुसरे में चले जायेंगे हम। अब प्यार-मोहब्बत में इतना सैक्रिफाइस तो बनता है।"

"भैया, कहीं और चले गए तो नजर कैसे रखोगे। आजकल के मेनेजर बहुत ठरकी हैं।"

"अबे तो हम क्या कल के बच्चे हैं क्या?और साले, बकचोदी काहे कर रहे हो? दूकान सजी नहीं, तुम पकवान अभी से बेच रहे हो? कुछ करना ही है तो उसे फ्रेंड रिक्वेस्ट भेजो, फिर हम भेजेंगे। अभी प्लेयिंग हार्ड टू गेट करते हैं।"

हम भी बोल दिए, जी-हुज़ूर। पर मालूम तो था ही हमें की भैया को प्लेयिंग-हार्ड-टू-गेट करने की ज़रूरत नहीं, क्यूंकि उनका कुछ होने की गुंजाइश उतनी ही थी जितना भारत में एक भ्रष्टाचार-मुक्त सरकार बनने की।

अब आप सोचोगे की हम कैसी प्रवृति के इंसान है कि उन्हें झूठों उम्मीद बंधाते रहते हैं। पर हमारे पास वजह है| अब आपको चाहे लगे की भैयाजी छिछोरे हैं, पर वास्तविकता ये है कि वो केवल एक आशिक-मिजाज़ इंसान हैं। पर साली इस दुनिया ने उनके दिल को एक होटल का दरबान बना के रख दिया है। भैयाजी झुक-झुक के सलाम ठोकते हुए दरवाज़े खोलते रहेंगे, लोग आते जाते रहेंगे, ज्यादातर नज़रंदाज़ कर देंगे, कुछ मुस्कुरा देंगे, एक-आध बख्शीश भी दे देंगे, पर कोई कभी रुकेगा नहीं। हम सब समझते थे, पर भैयाजी की समझ से ये बातें परे थी क्यूंकि आदमी दुनिया को वैसे ही देखता है जैसा वो खुद होता है।

हमें फट्टू ही कह लीजिये की हमें ये बात भैयाजी को कहने से ज्यादा आसान उनकी उम्मीद कायम रखना लगता था।

- उम्मीदन-शेष-भाग-जल्द

Junkyard..

In some half-forgotten room,

in a neglected corner of my mind,

Hidden behind locked doors,

I hoard all of us that's left behind.

With intoxication as a guide,

often a way there a find,

to see everything getting engulfed,

slowly by the sands of time.

I sift through all that junk,

Knowing all that's you is unnecessary,

Begin discarding those knick-knacks,

slowed by the cobwebs of memory.

Filling the vacated spaces with loneliness,

I toil away in vain,

Even if I were to find every bit of me,

I'll never be whole again.

Name..Place.Animals..Things

This story doesn't need my name, although, you may want to know a bit about me. Obviously, you would need that to form a judgement of me. We may not be in a position to judge ourselves, our thoughts, our actions, our sentiments but when it comes to judging others, that is something we all excel at. So, following the rules of the society that I need to live in, I'll play along. I am male, 36, unmarried, 6 figure monthly salary, 5'9", above average looks, smoker, insomniac, consume alcohol daily but not an alcoholic.

This story has traversed through a number of places and it will travel still further. Suffice it is for you to know that right now I am in the bedroom of my apartment, seated on a recliner positioned along the wall across my bed.It is 3 am.Yes, I am smoking. No, I am not alone.

She is sleeping. She, is obviously a female, 34, a writer, 5'6", non-smoker, non-drinker, to me she looks as beautiful as anybody can look.She sleeps like a log. We have been together for 13 years now. No, we were never married. I never saw the need for it. I felt I had all that I wanted because we have been there for each other.

I met her in 2000. A party, at a mutual friend's place. Her date was stoned to oblivion. I offered to drop her home as a courtesy to the host.To make up for the fact that I had puked all over his washroom's floor the last time I was at his place.I hold my drink much better now. I told her, "Don't worry. I'll drop you home". She reluctantly agreed.

It was an uneventful drive. We kept quiet mostly.

I dropped her at her place, only to get back and see that the rear tyre was punctured. I did not know how to change the tyre. I went back to her place to make a call to the towing service. She was surprised to see me back. I explained. She made the call. The towing truck would take a couple of hours. I walked back to the car to wait.Put on some Opera music and reclined the seat. 2 minutes later, she knocked the window asking if I needed company. I said I wouldn't mind. She hopped in, asked me if I liked Pavarotti. I said yes. She said, let's go back to my place,I have a huge collection. She let me in.

We got talking and we never stopped. We were like animals from a herd. We loved the same things, hated the same things, feared the same things. 6 months later, I moved in.

We still joke sometimes that we are together because of a stoned ex, a punctured tyre and my lack of know-how of fixing it.

The only issue, we ever had any disagreements over, was marriage. Although, the disagreement was of a more intellectual rather than personal nature.I saw it as the social equivalent of prison system; she begged to differ. We agreed to disagree. 3 years later, our little pact was declared null and void unilaterally, by her. She asked me to move out. We still went on seeing each other. In hindsight, she was right. I do feel unmoored and lost sometimes.

It is these hours that I miss her the most, when I have her with me and all I can do is see her. I feel as if we are wasting time. I want more of her. Again, the animal thing. Greed. Although, we carefully avoid expressing how much we need each other.

She is stirring. It is 5 am. She has an internal body clock that amazes me. I light another cigarette and close my eyes. Wait. Her phone starts ringing. I get up to hand it over to her. She is up before me, switches on the bedside lamp, grabs the phone and answers,"No, I was up. See you soon.".

It's her husband. Back from his weekly business trip. The only thing I envy him, is the fact that in his relationship, he feels that she is waiting for him. With me and her, it is usually me.

But we need each other as much. Or else we would not be where we are now; where we are every week.

She gets up and starts stuffing her belongings in a bag. She is still on phone which probably means he is talking gibberish about his business trip. I don't get up to help. I don't want her to leave. She looks at me resignedly.

All of us are animals. There are things we need, that are uncompromisable, food, companionship, security. We need a shelter. We need each other.

She finally disconnects. Both from the call and from us. Hurriedly, she smiles at me,grabs her bag and begins to leave. I tell her, "Don't worry. I'll drop you home"

Numbers

Through three different cities,

Three years of knowing each other,

Thrice he asked her,

& then never went any further.

Two similar people,

Making two choices separate,

Creating two different destinies,

& moving on when time didn't wait.

With a one-way ticket,

To a one-street town,

One left alone leaving behind,

A love the other never found.

Zeroing in on the other,

Was just another zero-sum game,

Strangers to acquaintances to friends,

to acquaintances now turned strangers again.

Stand-up for Love

She was like IIPM's rankings,

Too good to be true,

But like aunties are to K-serials,

to her I was addicted too.

I tried hiding my sentiments.

like netas in swiss bank stash their loot,

But all my feelings lay exposed,

Like Poonam Pandey on any photoshoot.

Akin to a Tatkal booking on IRCTC,

I was giving up without a fight,

But she kept appearing in my head,

like pop-ups on an adult website.

I approached but became like Manmohan,

whenever around any TV cam,

She acted like Kryponite,

whenever I felt like Superman.

I still gave my best shot,

But could never get a hang of her,

It was as hopeless as commenting in English,

is for any Pakistani ex-cricketer.

She stayed a Bermuda Triangle,

A mystery I couldn't decipher,

Together we were just complex,

She real to me, I imaginary to her.

The Stand..

From the pedestals of morality,
willing to take a fall,
Hesitantly, we walk together,
away from them all.

From the charades of life,
A moment of truth we'll steal,
No need for secrets,
Shrouded we are,in anonymity's veil.

We try forgetting the future,
escaping away from the past,
Let's share this moment,
and try to make it last.

Gasps of air for another,
before diving again into indifference,
Trying to race against time,
to live a life in moments.

And dawn makes us strangers,
neither lovers nor friends,
What we had begun,
with the night had to end.