Persona Tags

So many tags I do carry myself, given by people around, time to time as per their love and hate. The exact words may range from Buddhu to Buddhiman , Pagla to Polite, Neta to Old movie character, Besharam to Brilliant , Software engineer to All rounder. I do carry all of them like stars of any defense personal to glorify myself ! On a serious note, gone are the days, when I used to care for them – the whatsoever personality is made till now, needs hardships to polish it up.

Its not exact analogy but something related to physical tag, that we do wear around necks. One day I needed to give my official tag card to one of friend, who was walking few stairs down, than I was actually present. I told him to catch that. He caught it and knowing let it fall down down in between the spirals of stairs gap. It flews down in the air to touch the ground floor. And he walked up smiling without caring for taking that up.

It was a friendly prank solely. We laughed as we 7 collegues were there. But in reality, seeing my tag falling down, because of his prank – my heart bleed. It was an unexpected prank. The acid test of mine again. Apart from friendly kicks to him, while getting down myself, I kept silent with smile. I picked that up and walked up.

I smiled despite the fact that I was really hurt.

Now only 3 hours of this incident had passed. The same guy needed to leave for outstation. He came up with his own tag – “Prem, can you keep it till… ?”

Taking his tag from his hand again with the smile, I just told – “Dear, just see, I am keeping your tag so safe in my pocket and never play such pranks.  From you, I never expected that.” – To him, even telling sorry needed courage, he felt unable to keep eye contact with me any longer and left.  (And I know the bonds got stronger.)

Wrapping the ribbon around the tag, I kept his tag safe in my pocket.

Now I don’t wonder when the tags are replaced by some other things. And by nature, history do repeats itself.

One day – A letter

It was December, 2004. I was new to the blogging world, and with the burning desire to express myself efficiently, that I learnt. I got the contacts many of the bloggers and their blogs that used to draw my attention towards them, so do I used to.

And this blogger used to be a girl, many years younger to me. I was just regular reader of the blog. Due to some comments, good ones of mine, it became personal mails, in number not more than two or three, that included a third blog friend.

And while writing on a public place, I used to be some kind of not so confident those days. The confidence came when I joined Hindi bloggers (of north Indians) (and the brotherhood I carry in that group is ‘exemplary’ ).

Emotionally sick persona of mine ! One day I wrote a letter to that girl with casual approach (To repeat, no-way for friendship) ,as she had some connections with our institution. The reply, I got was correct in her point of view – the summary was – “no net friendship”. Each paragraph of mine was replied with a paragraph. No salutation – no ending ! The language of the mail was quite different than her blog !

The basic humanity – that we believe, found no place as the nature of net is – full of ambiguity.

I was depressed for two days – why I was replied so badly? When I wrote for want of constructive criticism. I didn’t asked even, why she wrote so to me ?

Only thing that stops me taking a revenge, – the lines, again from Ma – “God has sent you here after making you elder, never equalize after taking revenge ! “

But I was replied for something good !

The classes of immersing classical music only relieved me those days, still unknown to my family members.

Did I changed to her ? No, never ever ! I maintained that till level of blog for full two years, what I was to what I am.

One day we meet in real life for some another work. And that must be time, when she might have found that I am same or may be better than the another ‘net person’.

I still no-way can think of a friendship with her, though I do carry a lot of respect for her as a person having human limitations, adding to the fact for somethings, I was inspired without her knowledge. I guess today, when she interacts with me in real life, she trusts me like her another elder brother. Hope she may read this someday.

I guess to improve the writings, apart from blog, it took around 2 years to reach from (im)maturity level to this current level, which you can judge better. Now the things have reversed. There are some very good readers (some of them rarely put comments) without real life interaction, and I do stay on a level of trust that I am writing this post, without hesitation or fear of relations, I have made here.

The lesson from the letter was – I was not trusted based on my words. And the tears that afternoon made me more determined that – lets us see – whether my words can become my identity or not !

I have just started the journey through my 5-elemental life medium, to continue some inherited stuff, and I do strongly believe that someone will carry it forward one day. For the time beling, I am, was and will remain the same.

Music for Life – 2 (Ghazals)

सुबह सुबह इक ख्व़ाब की, दस्तक पर दरवाजा खुला देखा,
सरहद के उस पार से कुछ मेहमान आये थे,
आँखों से मायुस थे सारे, चेहरे सारे सुने सुनाए,
पाँव धोये, हाथ धुलाए, आँगन में आसन लगवाये,
और तन्दुर पे मक्के के कुछ मोटे-मोटे रोटी पकाये,
पोटली में मेहमान मेरे, पिछले सालों के फसलों का गुड़ लाये थे ।

आँख खुली तो देखा घर में कोई नही था ।
हाथ लगाकर देखा तो तन्दुर अभी तक बुझा नहीं था,
और होठों पे मीठे गुड़ का जाय़का अब तक चिपक रहा था
ख्वाब था शायद ख्वाब ही होगा
सरहद पे
सुना है कल रात चली थी गोली,
स़रहद पे कल रात सुना है – कुछ ख्वावों का खू़न हुआ है ।

The preface of the song इक पुराना मौसम लौटा – in Marasim.

Year 1999, the one day in Air Force Station as a frequent guest of my friend, Subhash, from Haryana. And on a afternoon, I was lying comfortable on the bed. Subhash told me to hear a new cassette he bought and put it in the cassette player. I had listened only few lines. And it was enough capable to vibrate the dormitory. And the heavy solemn voice of Jagjit Singh, and so the waves vibrated my soul, leading it to somewhere. The Album was Marasim by Jagjit Singh.

Haath chute bhi to rishtey nahi choda karte..was the one of Ghazal there, and yes, where is Subhash today, I don’t know. He may be with his children at some air force station. And his memories are still with me. The connecting string to him everytime is Marasim.

I took out the lyrics leaflet out of the cassette. I read the urdu composition of Gulzar. Though at home, Pankaj Udhas was only to bring ghazal’s emotional touch and worth to mention “Ghunghru tut gayi”. And I think its real vibration matching airs around us that, I got friends with common interests, where ever I go.

And the ghazal maestro Jagjit Singh had an existence in pictures and timeless ghazals. It was a bliss to see the maestro performing at the live function here in Bangalore. Though organiser could have arranged the live performance in an efficient accoustic hall, hence to bring out the minute details of her unique style of fluctuating the vocal cord, that is audiable in the CD sound system at home.

Later on I heard about the private life of the maestro, when they lost their son, Vivek agee 21 years, I was really shocked, which can never be compensated to him by all his acquired fame and satisfaction. Whenever I hear Jagjit & Chitra singing together, I wish, may not God make any absolutely perfect couple, if there lies such a great pain to suffer in the completness. The couple’s dedication towards music is great, even after pain they tried to share the pain of lakhs of his fans with few more albums.

With due respect to his private life, I do wonder the reason behind of his unique rendition of inner human feelings in the air. And this is one way one can understand and share the pains of others. These poetic rendition comes out, when there is some untold, unknown pains lies within.

Ghazals have quite different essence and style than song. The choosen words of poetry, the weaving style to bring out feelings is the first lyrics expertise. Then the rendition, who delivers with a voice, that must have deep feeling of abstract 6th sense apart from all forms. To me hearing the poetic recitation of Ghazals proves to be the best thing for the solitory moments.

These are the companion of those feelings that waves into the sea of thoughts. Thoughts of relations, those tied forever, those broken up, those which could not be tied and all those which still binds the world with invisible strings.

P.S.: More than 6 years passed off and Subhash was out of touch, and the day I had finished writing this post, Subhash found me on Orkut after a lot of search. Is it just a coincidence or something unexplained ever !

Smoking is a healthy custom !

Have you ever seen Bidis used as agarbattis ( incense sticks) ?
Or have you ever seen fishes smoking like our ‘Khan brothers’ in movies ?

Yes I saw it at Calicut beach and captured the moment for a pukka evidence. Here in the picture you may see a boat with one fish smoking smartly on the wood and other lying on the floor.Smoking Fish

On the same wood block I sat for sketching 2 hours ago, before the boat went into the sea for fishing. The black old fisherman with one company took the boat into the sea and came back with big fishing net entangled with big sea crabs and several variety of fishes. They took this specific fish first out and lighted one bidi and then put it into this poor fish’s mouth. A fish uses its gills and mouth to breath. And a bidi is securely placed in its mouth, in its normal process of breathing, it became smoking. It seems to enjoy bidi. No jumps of the fish or any movement.

The poor fisherman is at least honest to his agarbatti, unlike we corporate civilians who use smoke ( oh sorry fragrance ! ) of Chandan and Mogra to offer God and enjoy the smoke ( again sorry, Oxygen! ) of cigarettee for enjoying self. For the fisherman as per customs , it may it be a aggarbatti offering to the Sea God.

Anyway the fish remained alive for long and enjoyed the smoking like all my friends, who prolong the tea time with smoking . Who says smoking shortens the life ? See the other non-smoker fish thrown down in the little water at boat’s bottom water left the world early and could not see his friend smoking so nicely.

What strange customs we do have in India as well as around world ? I was equally surprised to see costly liquor bottles offered to Gautam Buddha at Tibbetan temple. Anyway these customs are being followed since ages and deeply entangled with faith. These are all lovely customs around us, many of them can be adpoted, if one wishes !

Anyway its a beautiful world, that can be observed only after travelling wide.

Her Marriage – The Dance of Life

This narration again goes to my sister, as she is so special to me. May be there are some traits of the woman, set as benchmark of excellence, though unread and unexplainable; my instinct keeps me away from most of the Bangalore’s highly materialistic girls.

The evening was not hot at all. But seeing her dance practices, it seemed that it was like a mid summer evening. She was perspiring with sweat, after so many rounds of dozens of dance swirling around her feet.Her payals used to set the neighborhood into vibrations. Though she lamented some times that why didn’t I learn table to that level. If I could have accompanied her, with the beats, she could have better coordinated her foot falls.

“Dada, I completed all rounds without stops.” And she was very much optimistic about her 6th year’s courses in Kathak despite really limited resources in the small town. And why not, her Lasik operations gave her a new look to life again. The weekly classes, by her Guruji, who used to come from Raiganj, she attended attentively, as well as cleverly, a trait mandatory in artistic learning. At the end of her weekly classes, I had to go for escorting her, in late evenings. . No matter, when midnight touches, she used to note down the all theoretical parts of dance, in her diaries, because she had to return back the book to someone.

That time with a perfect composure of a classical dancer, after all sweating out, her wheatish complexion appeared brighter and more confident, which is skin deep.

After she completed Sangeet Prabhakar in classical dance, her only wish remained, is to continue the education under some competent guru, with a guru-shishya parampara at some good place. Other option, she had been chosen that, she will learn Shahnaz Hussain’s beauty courses, and start her own entrepreneurship.

She has been artistic. And if literally to say, inclination towards arts subjects. Math remained the major obstacle in her career. Though she tried her best, but in fact it needed spoon feeding sometimes. During her secondary school exams, she got some trivial tips to solve problem from her favourite teacher. And I enjoyed the role as, I knew well, where she misses ‘the connecting links’ between a problem and derived solution.

Dreaming is a stepping stone, realization of the same is bliss. We didn’t have resources or someone well connected to metros to find out the details of scope for her.

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And her years passed off teaching the neighborhood girls Kathak & painting , and engaging herself in free bridal make up services only in well close relations.

But there was a time, when we had to see the scopes of hers to find her day of bridal appearance. Her marriage searches started off. Newspapers were scanned for matrimonial ads. Ma emphasized that as she gets dressed in her best in functions and Durga Puja. Might she can draw in someone’s attention !

Its told, in our side unless the father’s sandal’s sole erases out, getting a groom is not possible. But this time, having her ultimate faith on me, I have to share the roles as well as decision with Baba.

Nights of ours just spent exploring all the possible scopes to us. Never we slept before 11 pm. It appeared as if we are desperate to send her out somewhere unknown. Family members’ opinions and discussions went on.

I think in these times, Ma’s duties increased to keep pushing Baba for efforts of groom searching. And endless were the talks of Ma-Baba, sometimes taking shape of arguments. Though Baba averred me as always taking Ma’s side, I managed their opinions, and derived the common thread between their opinions !

I made a presentable bio-data of hers as the best girl in the world. And next tasks were getting some of her snaps. Really difficult task one ! There were some of hers snapped in the local studios. And we started to search her best appearing snap, where everything looks perfect. Even the plates of saree, fingers well arranged, long hairs displayed with decency – and we got some picture perfect snaps. But among around 10 selected snaps with varied angles, we could choose out only two – in those she looked more beautiful. The interesting thing was both of them were snapped on our roof, not in studios! These snaps were snapped by our photographer, Vilash uncle, who came some day on her call, and everything went unnoticed to us until snaps bills came to Baba. Rest all hundreds of bucks spent in studios could not bring her natural smile in artificially painted studio backgrounds.

And this side, whenever I used be in journey for possible approaches, I had to but a weight on my heart. From the day, she appeared into our house, she had been lucky for the family in many more ways. And the fact is, from the day she left us; we became almost dispersed family and unable to manage the same. And it wouldn’t be same ever again, unless such a pious soul again enters our home in any form.

With every possible negotiation talks, there were budding hopes, dreaming castles and sudden or slow melting of the same too.

One of them is worth interesting, when Ma wanted to buy the groom !

Without going into details, I would like to mention, her two line statement to the mediator over phone was, “Why 5 lakhs, I shall give 7 lakhs to Mr. X , for his handsome engineer son. And as I might have paid such a pretty sum, he has to just leave his son, and he will be only ours forever! ” – she smiled back on the customs again.

And our children union, we needed some smart gossips to just pass off the time.

In our children arena, we calculated the good grooms available on that day. Suppose there are 100 Hindu guys to be married, in our contact. As we have managed till now a teetotaler culture, so seeing the habits of current generation, 70 will be out in screening test only. In rest 30, 10 guys will be already committed as Bengali girls are smarter to catch up job holder guys early, 10 guys will be searching for paper ad type beauty queens. In rest 10 guys, 5 will seek for professionally settled girls in preference. So there are only 5 guys for us in 100s. In rest, 5 we have to choose out one who will give her full opportunity to fly high. But where is 5’s and who is the last one, who will accept her, as she is.

Outside home, in the practical battlefield front, while meeting parents and guys, I knew how to evaporate the ego (be it mine or others), how to bring out their suppressed humanity, to start a genuine relation. And used to return home with bundles details to be talked till late nights, about people and their opinions, ideas and future preferences.

From our relatives and friends at home, many proposals came positive, some of them looking so great that, we can’t even dream off. Some places, she needed to be prepared to make compromise a lot. But as Ma have decided early that, we wouldn’t ever tell no to any guest. Let everyone come, respect the guest with your best and leave the fate to the Almighty.

The mantra worked well. One day in Tata Indica, came 5 guests. The guy, his sisters and uncle and friend. And we were prepared for a customary bride exhibition function (which I disliked most ). But this time by courtesy of the guests, they turned that into a casual homely talks.

Like others, they too departed and before departure the guy did our formal pranaam with manner and shacked hands with us (and with my sister too) and waived hands high with a wide smile, while getting back into the car.

Omen was well read.

Next Sunday, his parents, or better to say that the parents of the smart, fair and tall guy, accepted well the choice of his son, whatever she was, whole heartedly.

They invited us for their verification of house, business etc.! I predicted about, down to earth father-in-law, if the dream like day was going to be true.

After a minor verification by my parents, they decided to move ahead. Though I was told several times, but I was not willing to verify, and I was very much confident on the confidence of the guy and had chosen him out in the first glance only, as I had meet several other prospective grooms too.

On 21st day of their visit, his Tilak (Aashirwadi ) was done, as they wished . Marriage day was fixed. There was a gap of 4 months between his tilak and marriage. And the girl’s aashirwadi was not done, as if still she was free to move.

Ma & PinkyThe hazy snap of Ma & Pinky right here is taken out from the video clip, before we were to depart for Aashirwadi. Her fingers are still coloured with red alta, she just applied around Ma’s feet. Hope her fingers are dry :).

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It was again another Saturday evening after one month of Aashirwadi. The to-be groom’s parents were at our home for some homely talks regarding marriage arrangements.

In the same evening, I received a call of my good friend, who was at home in vacations. He is a well placed professional in a reputed MNC in UK.

Sister was well noticed and well appreciated by his mother, much before, but never expressed clearly that to us. And undeniable fact is, on her face, she carries simplicity and a natural smile that’s obviously appears on the faces of many the small town girls or those who come from small towns.

Though we too thought some times to make a proposal as best relations never expect those bits of ego, but we could not approach them, as they might fall in ( prime ) dowry group as the status of groom and Ma’s unwillingness to promote this system. Other thing, we were not sure, as how much they will be able to give wings to fly, to a girl, as per her wishes, born in a Bengali culture.

He holds a command affection with me, and told that along with his parents he was coming next day. I scented his voice and purpose. I told there are guests related to her marriage at our home. He heard the news of negotiations of my sister are going on. And at the same time, he confirmed whether aashirwadi of her’s is done or not.

And as planned they were at our house next morning. And I respected them a lot, since last 10 or more years he has been like my brother and of course his parents like my own uncle-aunty.

But seeing the guests already present there, as early bird, they were really calm and the situation left me in real life dilemma. Their eyes were clearly hopeful still. And when luck brings to many things together, we are unable to decide whom to hear; heart or mind.

And it was our turn to decide. Whom to choose, if possible?

One with such a good qualification, a pay-package enough to raise the eyebrows of most of today’s girl’s, good looking NRI and best aspect was known to me since more than 10 years with all nitty-gritty of the personality.

Other with a B.Com of Kolkata university, an entrepreneur as well as a small tea estate owner. He does not have a pay –package, but earns hard worked profit, may be not comparable with a heavy NRI pay-package. The only concerned thing was, his past record and current actual status still unknown. How he may turn out for her in future, was not known to us. And visiting UK so easily, will be dream for him at least.

Houseful of guests. More lucks at home !

With opportunity of so many guests at home, varieties of Bengali cuisines were being served. And desperately, we needed a private talk among we family members that time, for a decision, if possible again.

And kitchen is the ultimate place of ours for such moments. I had to decide to an extent and I already decided something in my head.

I called sister in a another room. And told her – “See this is a once in lifetime chance. Your future is depending here. May your luck is giving you the better, that you deserved. About that guy I am sure and as well as for my friend, I am much more sure. Both’s parents are here today, and both of them want you with all the respect.”

“Dada, what ever you are telling that’s correct. You are thinking better for me. But now I am committed to him, as you people have done his aashirwadi too.” – She tried to make me understand.

“His is done, but your aashirwadi is not done. You can decide again, it’s a chance of UK, and best of out of this life, we could never think off, and a family that will be caring for you ever. You can fulfill all your dreams there. ” – I kept trying to convince her.

“Everything is fine. But he was the first to chosen me this way. I have talked with him too after aashirwadi. How I can think off leaving him alone here, and go for UK.” – She was moving her eyes away from me.

I recalled about her dreams of growing high with my best possible logic.

And she was undeterred and tried to avoid hearing my suggestions further. She hurried off to kitchen to help Ma.

Alone I was left in room. I was not pained at all. I was a proudest brother on the Earth of having such a sister of mine.

This coincidence of coming another guests with a prospective NRI guy, spread into guy’s family afterwards. And there was created a beautiful impression for a girl, ready to embrace her.

Before this day, at her to-be in-law’s house, I have seen her photo, that we sent for proposal, had been framed beautifully and kept on a single table between two newly bought flower vases in the drawing room. I never imagined this !

And she got married with best possible arrangements and best possible reception at their end. Though for us, we do prefer a very simple traditional Bengali marriage, but for her, I kept all our principles knowingly away for her dream day.

And she still receives the best care from her life partner, for the sacrifice she did or commitment she showed.

Her in-laws village is 35 km inside the national highway, but a well developed one with all facilities. However I can console my self, its worth to say, the place is never a chance to grow her talents, as she dreamt off. But the good thing is that , every one is flexible to let the couple reside in Darjeeling’s down town, where the guy have runs own business.

Willingness never dies. Creativity can’t be hidden. After few months of marriage, there was a day when in her neighborhood of in-laws house, a young girl wanted to learn classical dance from her. And happily from home, she carried her payals with her. And she started her one- student -class for just sake of little fee and engaging the time. And the neighborhood must have again started vibrating in payals’s sounds in the in-laws house. The vibrations , I could hear it here too.

“Dada, I have danced a lot yesterday, though my legs pained a bit.” – next day she was telling me over phone.

बचपन का मेरा सीकिंया मीत

आज रात नारद जी सीधे मेरे किचन में पधारे । “वत्स प्रेम, आजकल क्या सेन्टी पोयम लिखता है ! नये साल में तू्झे प्रसन्न रहने का । अरे हँस – खेल यार, मेरे जैसा रह, नो टेंशन, चल कुछ बढ़िया वाला चीज लिख – वरना तेरे से कुट्टी । ”

नारदजी को देखकर मेरे तो दिमाग की ट्युबलाईट जल गई । सोचा सही समय पे आये हैं – प्रभु मेरे घर । सो मैनें कह दिया – ” मेरे प्रभु , आपुन सेंटी नहीं होने की गारंटी तो नहीं ले सकता । वैसे आजकल आप भक्तों को सही  वरदान तो देते नही, और कलयुग में आप जैसों की बहूत कमी दिखती है । ये इंटरनेट के आपके चैटिंग (चाटु) अवतार ठीक से काम नहीं करते । वैसे भी आजकल साक्षात् आपके दर्शन कम ही होते सो आपकी आज ही बात मानता हूँ । ”

नारद जी भौं सिकोड़ने लगे । फिर उनको खुश करने के लिए कहा – ” ओके कल भी मानुँगा । आपके वास्ते जब तक कलम से बिरयानी बनाऊँ, कुछ फ्रिज से निकाल कर पेश कर रहा हूँ , इसे पढ़िये । इसे अनुगूँज के लिए इंद्रजी के आमंत्रण पर लिखा था , March 2, 2005 । शीर्षक दिया गया था – बचपन के मेरे मीत ” ।

इंद्रजी का आमंत्रण के प्रत्युतर में विलंब का प्रश्न ही कहाँ उठता है। शीर्षक तो ऐसा दे रखा है कि कलम ( की-बोर्ड – मुहावरे में बदलाव की आवश्यकता है) तोङकर लिखने को मन करता है । कलम की बात से याद आया, अभी जिस तरह से गोली-लेखनी ( बाल-पेन ) का चलन है , वैसा आपके या मेरे बचपन में नहीं हुआ करता था । अभी तो लिखो-फेको का जमाना है , या फिर जेल-पेन नहीं मिला तो छोटकु नाराज । भविष्य के बच्चे शाय़द इस तरह जिद्दी नहीं होंगे , सीधे की-बोर्ड पर हाथ साफ करेगें । सैकङों फोंट की सहायता से उसका सुलेख देखने लायक होगा । चाहे कुछ भी हो , आज बचपन का मेरा बेजान सीकिंया मीत पेंसिल के बारे में कहना चाहूँगा । बीती बिसारना नहीं चाहता हूँ, जिसके कारण मैं आज यहाँ हूँ । Akshargram Anugunj
बात उन दिनों की है जब मैं एल.के.जी. या यु.के.जी. में पङता था, उस समय बाल-पेन का तो कोई प्रश्न ही नहीं उठता था । पेन भी नही मिलता था मुझे ,सो दूसरों का देखकर ललचा जाता था । ऐसी बात नहीं की गरीबी थी , हम तीनों भाई – बहन में मैं ज्यादा भुल्लकर था । आज कलम दिया कि दो दिन में गायब । सो पेन बंद और रुल-पेंसिल (एच.बी.) चालु हो गया । जब नया पुरा लंबा पेंसिल भी खो दिया तब पेंसिल काट कर दिया जाने लगा । मैं तो महान था ही , हमारे क्लास के सहपाठियों में भी विद्यार्थियों के सारे गुण अलग – अलग परिमाणों में रहे होंगे । मेरे बको ध्यानम् का फायदा दुसरे किसी कि काक चेष्टा को मिलता होगा । नियमतः एक दिन आधा कटा हुआ पेंसिल भी गायब हो गया । माँ के धैर्य का बाँध टुट गया । माँ थोङा गुस्साकर एक अनोखा उपाय ढुँढ निकाली । मुझे काला धागे का बङा रील लाने को कही । कई धागे को मिलाकर पतला डोरा बनायी। मैं आज्ञाकारी बालक की तरह सामने खङा था । माँ मुझे कमीज उपर करने को कही और उसी धागे से कमर का नाप ली । आधा कटा हुआ पेंसिल लाकर पेंसिल के दूसरे छोर पर खाँच बनायी । अब धागे को कमर में बाँध दी । बाँधने के बाद लंबा सा धागा झुल रहा था । माँ धागे को पेंसिल के खाचें में बाँध दी और पेंसिल डाल दी पाकेट में । जा बेटा , तेरा पेंसिल अब नहीं खोएगा । स्कुल जाने लगा वैसे ही । क्लास में लिखते समय पेंसिल को बाहर कर लिखता उसी तरह से धागा से बँधा हुआ । कुछ दिन ऐसे ही चला , हाँ खेलते समय झट से पेंसिल बाहर आ जाता और फट से मैं भी उसे भीतर कर लेता । मैं ठहरा खोजी रचनात्मक दिमागी । फिर एक दिन मैंने पता कर ही लिया कि माँ की पेंसिल में गांठ लगाने की क्या विधि है । बस और क्या था , खेलने से पहले मैंने नख-दंत की सहायता से उसे खोल लिया, और दौङ पङा उन्मुक्त मैदान की और । खुल जा सिम-सिम तो सीख लिया था लेकिन बाँधने का गांठ मंत्र न सीखा। अक्कर – बक्कर का मंत्र पढा, मतलब किसी तरह से गाँठ लगाकर फिर पेंसिल को पाकेट में डाल लिया । अब अपना बाँधा हुआ गाँठ न तो खोल सकता था न ही पेंसिल के खाँच पर वह फिट ही बैठा , थोङा ढीला सा लग रहा था । डाँट पङेगी इसलिए माँ को कहा भी नहीं। मगर होनी को कौन रोक सकता है । एक दिन माँ जान ली की मेरा पेंसिल फिर खो गया है। मैं तो निश्चित था कि फिर बँधा पेंसिल कमर की डोरी में और ज्यादा गाँठे पङेगी , मार भी पङ सकती है । मगर आशा के विपरीत, इस बार माँ चेतावनी देकर नयी पेंसिल हाथ में दे दी । भगवान को तो पता नहीं धन्यवाद दिया की नहीं ,मगर माँ के पास पेंसिल न खोने की कसम खायी ।उसके बाद से बहुत हद तक सुधर गया था मैं ।

मगर आपलोग तो जानते ही हैं कि कसम तोङने के लिए भी होते हैं । भाई साहब , अभी तक पुरी तरह नहीं सुधरा हूँ । कभी कीमती कलम खोने पर याद आ जाती है कमर की काली डोरी । अगर मोबाइल फोन और कंपनी आई.डी. कार्ड की तरह पैन लटकाने का प्रचलन हो तो पक्का पैन लटकाकर चलुँगा ।

मेरा पार्कर पेन कमीज के पाकेट से झांककर यह सब स्क्रीन पर लिखता देखकर खुश हो रहा होगा ।

मगर कान में एक बात धीरे से कहूँ इंद्रजी , बचपन का अधकटा पेंसिल सबसे कीमती था ।

मेरी पहली हवाई यात्रा – 1

मेरी बहन पिंकी को समर्पित – जिसकी बत्तीसी बहूत दिनों से नहीं दिखी है और जिसकी इच्छा थी इसे ब्लाग पे डालने की ।

हाँ तो मैनें एक वादा किया था कुछ दिनों पहले । सो मैं अब ब्लाग गाड़ी का स्टियरिंग घुमा रहा हूँ , हमारी लेखन शैली से ।

एक छिपी बात यह है कि मैं हरेक रविवार शापिंग कम्पलेक्स में ह्युमर का बटी खोजने जाता था । वहाँ पुरे भारत से आयी खुबसुरत लड़कियाँ खुब मिल जाती, पर ह्युमर कहीं भी नहीं मिलती । बाद में उनके बराबर वहाँ आने का राज पता चला – वो भी सेंट ( सेंस) आफ ह्युमर खोजने आती थी ।

वैसे एक गहरी रात शांता ( अरे ये शांता कोई लड़की नहीं, क्रिसमस का दाढ़ी वाला पेटु शांता क्लाउज है) मेरे कमरे में कुछ रहस्यमय गिफ्ट टपका गया ।

खैर जाने दिजीए ये बातें, इस कड़ाके की ठंड में गँवार की दुकान की थोड़ी चाय पेश रहा हूँ, मलाई मारकर । आशा है, चुस्की मारकर पियेंगे । वैसे पसंद न आए तो इसे फेंकने की चिंता मत किजीए , अनेक इंडियन लोगों की तरह घर के बाहर वाला , खुले सड़क का विशाल कुड़ादान है ना ।

अब कास्टिंग खत्म और फिल्म चालु आहे ।

यह कहानी है – मेरी पहली हवाई यात्रा की ।

गारंटी है कि खेत के मेड़ से, आपके दादाजी की तरह हमारे दादाजी ने भी आकाश में कई बार हवाई जहाज उड़ते देखी होगी, जब तक सिर के ऊपर से वह पुरी तरह से गुजर न जाए। उस पर चढ़ने का स्वपन देखने की गलती उन्होनें नहीं की होगी, इतना तो मुझे पुरा विश्वास है । वे लोग बस बगल से एक बार हवाई जहाज देख पाते तो खुद को भाग्यशाली मानते । ये अलग बात है खेत के मेड़ से हवाई – जहाज देखने के दौरान, इधर उनका भैंसा अपना ही खेत चर गया ।

अच्छा छोड़िए गुजरे जमाने की, सीधे लैंडिंग किजीए हमारे जमाने में । हमारे कस्बों में लालु नेता, आई मिन, आलु नेता, भिंडी नेता को भाषण के लिए भीड़ जमानी हो तो बस हेलीकाप्टर से पहूँचना होता है । हमारे गाँवों में तो खैनी डोलते पटुआ के खेत से बस हेलीकाप्टर भगवान का दर्शन करने पहूँच जाती है, भारी भीड़ ।

जाने दीजिए गाँव की बात ,हमारे शहर में, मैं भी एक बार ऐसे ही भाषण सुनने गया था, पर देखता रहा दो घंटे तक हेलीकाप्टर और उसके बड़े – बड़े डैने और दिमाग भिड़ाता रहा उसे फंक्सनिंग पर।

खानदान में सबने प्लेन देखा, पर दूर से । सबके आशीर्वाद से पैसावाला हो गया ना, अब तो मैं बगल से प्लेन देख सकता हूँ । यह मन चिड़ैया भी है ना, बड़ा लोभी होता है । ट्रेन में नये यात्री की तरह, बैठने दो तो पैर उठाने का जगह निकाल लेगा, पैर उठाने दो तो, थोड़ी देर में पसर जाएगा । आमदनी बढ़ी तो मेरे मन का अपना धंधा शुरू हो गया । अब मानव जन्म सार्थक करने का मौका है । कुछ घंटो के लिए पंछी का अवतार मिल सकता है ।

हाँ तो मैनें ठान लिया, प्लेन पर चढ़ना है । इकोनामी क्लास की हवाई यात्रा भी चलेगी । गुग्गुल की बुटी दादाजी के दवाई के काम आता था । ये कैसा होता है कभी जानने की कोशिश नहीं की हमने पर वैसा ही कुछ मिलता जुलता नाम का उपयोग हमने गुग्गुल डाट काम का किया ईटरनेट में – सस्ते फ्लाईट खोजने में । बहुत छानकर मिला एक – स्पाईस जेट । शब्दार्थ खोजा तो पता चला – मशाला जेट । वैसे स्पाईस जेट के प्रचार में लाल ड्रेस में एयर होस्टेस एकदम लाल परी सी लग रही थी । मैनें भी मशाला फिल्मों से इसे जोड़ दिया । मतलब ये हुआ कि, हवाई जहाज में खुबसुरत एयर होस्टेस । अब क्या था – मन हिलोरें मारने लगा । इस मुसीबत की दुनिया से काफी उपर, नील आकाश में लाल परियों के साथ यात्रा ।Spice Jet

शुरु हो गयी तैयारी । टिकट बुक करवाया ईटरनेट से । मगर विश्वास नहीं हुआ कि बिना लाईन में लगे खुद से प्रिटिंग किया हूआ कागज टिकट कैसे हो सकता है । खुद को ऐसे मनाया कि मेरे को ठग सकते है सभी को थोड़े ही न ठगेंगे । कुछ भी हो हमलोग समझदार यात्री है, हमने टिकट परे छपे नियम-कानुन ध्यान से पढ़े । देखा एक ही बैग ले जाने को कहा है – उसकी लंबाई – चौड़ाई – ऊँचाई – भार, 35 किलो सब निर्धारित है । एक अलग से लैपटाप जा सकता है । चल तब तो ठीक है ।

टिकट करवाया था यात्रा के एक महीना पहले । घर पे तो पहले बता ही दिया कि मैं इस बार फ्लाईट से आ रहा हूँ । रिश्तेदारों में यह बात फैल गयी । अब उनसे बात होती तो, फ्लाईट का जिक्र जरूर करता । दिन गिनने लगा मैं फिर ।

सामान भर कर बैग बहुत भारी लग रहा था – कहीं 35 किलो तो न हो गया । सुबह पनसारी की दुकान गया । कहा – भैया मेरा बैग नाप दो जरा । चावल -दाल के जगह बैग, वह शायद सोच रहा होगा । पता है, वह भारी था सिर्फ 15 किलो ।

उस दिन फ्लाईट शाम को थी । आफिस से भी जाया जा सकता था, यही तो बिजी लाईफ है न । आफिस का काम भी ज्यादा कुछ नहीं, मगर आन लाईन बहुत दिनों बाद भेंट हो गयी – एक पुरानी दोस्त । जिसके पास शिकायतों का पुरी रेडीमेड पोटली थी । पर मैनें न छेड़ी उसे । पता था – अगर पोटली खुली तो, शांति का आशा नहीं थी । और उस दिन को मैं पुरी शुभ यात्रा बनाना चाहता था । फिर किसी को जान बुझकर दुखी करके यात्रा थोड़े ही न बनता है । सो मैनें थोड़ी देर ही सही बिलकुल नये दोस्त के तरह बात की, वो खुश और मैं भी खुश । बाई – बाई फिर आफलाईन ।

दोपहर का खाना आफिस में उस दिन खाया भी न जाता था । फुल एक्साईटमेंट । बहुत सारे सहकर्मियों के लिए हवाई यात्रा, आटो रिक्शा जैसा था । मैं एक बार खाली चढ़ तो लुँ, हवाई जहाज पर, हरेक साफ्टवेयर प्रोफेशनल की तरह अपना भी जन्म सार्थक हो जाए । एयरपोर्ट जाने के नाम पे आटोवाले ने भी रेट ज्यादा लगाया । उसका रेट पचास रुपये ज्यादा था । खैर मैंने भी सोचा, प्लेन पर चलने वाले को इन आटो वालों से ज्यादा मोल भाव नहीं करना चाहिए । मैं भी मान गया, उसका रेट । वो भी जा खुश होकर ले जा रहा था हवाई यात्री को । मैं महसुस कर रहा था – पुरा गर्वित ।

वैसे ही घर सात महीने के बाद जा रहा था – वो भी हवाई जहाज से । वहाँ घर पे सब महीने – दिन – अब घंटे गिन रहे थे । खुब नाम लिया – अपने भगवान का ।

एयरपोर्ट पर पहूँचकर देखा तो सब स्टेन्डर्ड यात्री । ज्यादातर बढ़िया सुटकेश और बढ़िया बैग लेकर चलने वाले । इधर हमारे स्टेशन पर तो झोला वाले ज्यादा दिखते हैं , वैसे सस्ते सुटकेश ही आजकल खुब दिखते हैं – दिल्ली, पंजाब जाने वालों मजदुरों के ।

हम भी हाई क्वालिटी साफ्टवेयर मजदुर जो ठहरे । मन में प्लान हो गया कि अगली बार के लिए एक हवाई यात्रा लायक सैमसोनाईट सुटकेश खरीदना होगा , आखिर हमारे सम्मान की बात है । खैर हमने भी अपना बैग का चेन चेक कर लिया था । किस्सा था कि उस बैग का चेन कभी-कभी स्लिप करता था ।

हमारे एक मित्र हैं – जिन्होनें बता दिया था कि पुरी जाँच पड़ताल होती है, सीट नम्बर भी वहीं मिलेगा इसलिए एक घंटा पहले जाना चाहिए । हमने लिखा देखा – “चेक इन” और खड़ा हो गया, अपना बैग लेकर । मैं पुरा एक घंटे पहले पहूचा था ना इसलिए नबंर एक मे था लाईन में । पुरे बीस मिनट खड़ा रहा वहीं । पीछे मुढ़कर देखा तो लंबी लाईन लगी थी । मैं पुरा गौरवान्वित महसुस कर रहा था उस समय , नहीं तो मुझे एक बार लेट से स्टेशन पहूँचकर चलती गाड़ी में चढ़ने का बुरा अनुभव रहा है ।

शुरु हो गयी चेक – इन । मेरे सामने एक पट्टी चलने लगी । एक स्टाफ ने डाल दिया मेरा बैग उस पट्टी पे । चला गया, बेचारा बैग – बिना मालिक का , एक छोटी सी गुफा में । मेरे पैर के मोच का एक्स रे करवाया था दो सौ रुपये लगे थे । अरे वाह, यहाँ सामान का एक्स रे फ्री । हमें बगल के दुसरे रास्ते से टिकट देखकर जाने दिया । सोचा कि मेरा बैग मिल जाएगा अंदर जाकर । पर नहीं मिला बैग,मैं वहाँ खड़ा रहा । मेरे पीछे खड़े कई महाशय अपना सुटकेश लेकर चले गये । उसके बाद दो लोग और अपना सामान लेकर चले गये । मगर मेरा दिमाग ठनका – कुछ गड़बड़ हुआ है । मेरा बैग देखा तो जाँच करने वालों ने उठाकर रख लिया था । मुझे खड़ा देख जाँच करने वाला पुछा – “ये आपका बैग है, पता चला है कि इसमे तीन बड़े- बड़े पैक्ड डब्बे है ।” “अरे सही है यार, एक्स रे मशीन तो उस्ताद है “- मैनें सोचा । मैनें कहा – “दवाई हैं “। उसने मुझे बैग खोलने को कहा – “चैक होगा “। लोगों के भरे एयरपोर्ट में, मैं खोल कर निकाल रहा था अपना सामान । हाय रे , गई मेरी प्राईवेसी बुट लादने । मैनें दिखाई उनको महंगी आयुर्वेदिक दवाई के तीनों सील्ड पैकेट , जो मैंने माँ के लिए खरीदी थी । वे पुछने लगा -” डाक्टर का पुर्जा कहाँ है “। वो फिर कहने लगा -” दवाई बिना पुर्जा के ले जाने नहीं दिया जाता ” । खैर उस बंदे को मैनें समझा दिया – आयुर्वेदिक दवाई के पुर्जे नहीं होते । वो अब पुछने लगा -” दवाई के उपयोग “। डाक्टर तो बन न पाया , पर अब उसे ऐसा डाक्टरी अंदाज मे समझा दिया, उसने वह भी सोच रहा होगा कि उसे एक पैकेट गिफ्ट में कोई देता । वह संतुष्ट हो गया कि मैं उग्रवादी (टाईप) नहीं हूं । खैर मुक्ति मिली ।Airport Bangalore Inside

बैग से पैक्ड सामान को निकालकर फिर से डालना भी बड़ा कष्टकर होता है । अब चेन से मस्क्कत करने के बाद मैनें बैग उन्हें दे दिया । उनलोगों नें उसे पुरा सुरक्षा स्टीकर से सील किया ।

अब मेरे पीछे आये सारे लोग हवाई अड्डे में सभी बड़े प्रेम से अपना सामान लेकर जा रहे हैं , सीट नम्बर लेने । अब एक बात तो पक्की थी कि मेरे से पहले बहूत लोग अपना सीट नंबर ले चुके थे । किस्मत मेरी अगर तेज रही तो ही मिलेगी, खिड़की वाली सीट । अब आगे जाकर देखा तो दुकान सी लगी हूई थी, सभी हवाई कंपनियों की । किंगफिसर वाले का राजसी लाल कालीन बिछा था, उनके काउंटर के सामने l। ईर्ष्या से जल भुनकर रह गया मैं । पर अपनी किस्मत में मिला मैं खोज रहा था , सस्ते फ्लाईट, स्पाईस जेट का काउंटर । दिख गई लाल परी काउंटर पर । वहाँ मैं फिर लाईऩ में लग गया । अभिवादन किया लाल परी ने । अरे क्या खुब मुस्काई । बडी तेज दिखती थी, उतनी है तेज चलती थी उसकी पतली भिंडी सी अंगुलियाँ, उसके कंप्युटर पर । साफ्टवेयर इंडस्ट्री में इन परियों के लिए कुछ सीटों का आरक्षण का विधेयक संसद में पेश होना चाहिए । उसने फिर मुस्कुराकर पुछा – कोई सीट की इच्छा । मैनें झट से कहा – खिड़की के तरफ । वो सिर हिलाई – मतलब मिल गया । हमारी लाटरी लग गयी । मन तो किया कि लाल-परी का मोबाईल नंबर या ई-मेल आई-डी ले लुँ । पर स्वाभिमानी मैं भी कम नहीं – नहीं लिया ।

उधर मेरा बैग एक बंदे ने वहीं पर ले लिया । देखा चली गयी बेचारी बैग – फिर एक पटरी पे ।

रह गया हाथ में मेरा अपना हैडबैग , जिसमें सोई थी – मेरी प्यारी बीबी, आई मिन – मेरा लैपटाप, पानी का बोतल, मेरी इस्कान की किताबें और नास्ता । अब लग गया मैं फिर से लाईन में । अब जाना था – वेटिंग कारिडार में । फिर जाँच हूई मेरे है़डबैग की – लग रहा था , फिर इसका भी एक्स-रे होगा । हे भगवान – परीक्षा पास करा दे – मेरे इस बैग को । डाल दिया बैग फिर एक फीते पे । फिर उधर जाकर देखा – बेचारा बैग दो-चार पलटियाँ खाकर लुढ़का हूआ है , बाकी लोगों के बैग के साथ । इतने बेदर्द क्यों है ये लोग ?  मेरे लैपलाप का कुछ हुआ तो नहीं – मेरी धुकधुकी शुरु हो गयी । खैर तसल्ली इस बात से हुई कि शायद ऐसा सबके बैग के साथ होता होगा, सो कोई बात नहीं ।

वहाँ जाकर देखा, बस फर्स्ट क्लास वेटिंग रुम जैसा कुर्सी की लाईन । एक बंदे को देखा तो लैपटाप खोलकर बड़ी तेजी से कुछ लिख रहा था, और वैसी ही खुब मुस्कुरा रहा था । मैं समझ गया – बंदा किसी गर्ल-फ्रेंड से चैटिंग कर रहा हैं । वैसे आफिस में खाना तो ठीक से खाया तो नहीं गया, अब लगी थी भुख बड़ी तेज । देखा सामने नास्ते का काउंटर है । कई तरह के सजाए खाने का सामान । दो पावरोटी, मतलब टोस्ट, के भीतर चम्मचभर सब्जी डाल दो तो यहाँ कहते हैं – सैंडविच –  कीमत चालीस रुपये । समोसा – तीस रुपये । काफी तीस रुपये । अब याद आ गया मेरा स्टेशन , पावरोटी पाँच रुपया पैकेट, समोसा – दो रुपया । काफी – पाँच रुपये ।

खैर मैं भी हवाई जहाज पे जा रहा था । ट्रेन की यात्रा से ये काफी बेहतर है ना, मैने अब पर्स का मोटापा भी वैसा कर लिया था । सो आर्डर किया सैडविच और काफी । सत्तर रुपये का बिल । पेट क्या भरा, बोलकर अब फायदा नहीं ।

अब मेरी अंगुलियाँ खाते-खाते दुख रही है । याद आ रही है दुरदर्शन के बीते जमाने में रविवार के फिल्म की इंटरवल वाली बात –

फीचर फिल्म का शेष भाग 7:45 पर । आई मिन – कहानी जारी रहेगी …..

Taxi Driver

From Bangalore, 5 software engineers wished to spend holidays on a hill town, Coorg on a hired Tata Sumo. The hiring charges were Rs. 5.50 / km. In addition they had to pay driver bata per day Rs. 150/- from 9:00 am to 10:00 pm. There is a additional rule that, in case the driver drives the vehicle apart from these hours, Rs. 150/- as additional driver bata will be charged.

Charged with money, spirit and music tracks, it was a memorable journey. Among the hill valleys, over the sharp turns of roads, along with continuous rainy season, the expert driving saved a lot of time and helped everyone to visit maximum number of places, without any scratch of fear or danger.

Towards the end of journey at the Coorge – Buddhist Golden temple, driver was told to park the vehicle. The young chaps visited the temple and returned back to vehicle. They watched the clock. It was 4:15 pm. Reaching Bangalore will take 6 hours. It means, if they did any delay, by the time they will reach, it would have been past 10 o’ clock of night. So they didn’t want to take any chance to spend on overtime driver bata, they may need to pay.

Hence no more shopping or any supposed stoppage.

They entered the Bangalore town at 9:35 pm. Only 25 minutes remained to touch the risk line of 10 pm to save spending on driver’s bata. They discussed themselves in ‘English’, the shortest route, such that everyone can be reached to home within time frame. To them, he seemed to be driving slower to touch the tall needle of clock at 12, before people can reach home.

He sensed their feeling to avoiding touching the 10’o clock risky mark. Now he did not over take other vehicles as he used to do during the trip. The slowed vehicle gave the clear indication of his slowed spirit, which was high when droved the steep heights of slippery roads of Coorg.

Its true, spending of one is the earning of other, mutually interlinked. If it goes smooth, the same money valuation increases.

If, the stagnant money saved, when gives the joyous feeling of earning, gives rise to mutual dissatisfaction. On the other hand, generally, where a driver doesn’t expect the tips, he has a nice way to earn Rs. 150/- as overtime driver bata.

It was 9:55 pm and the last person reached home. The driver was asking for some tips / driver bata. They showed him the time in watch and paid the amount except bata.

They spent Rs. 7,000/- on a really safe and joyful tour and saved Rs. 150/- from driver bata. The 5 persons saved Rs. 30/- each!

He closed the doors of vehicle and was returning home after 3 days.

When ego breaks

Last month, one night around 11 pm, I was immersed in my books and keyboard.

“Prem…” Ma was calling me. Usually Ma does not call me while I am studying. So It was surely some necessary call from Ma. Although her voice was calm as usual, and I had seen her reading on the bed before coming to my room. I did not panic. I got up from the chair and attended her call. I understood that she will tell me some work to do. As I reached there she was closing the book, which she was reading. She had still some pages to read from “Vaitarini” which we got from NBT, Kolkata shop. She was going to sleep now because she had morning schools next day.

I had already finished the book. So we discussed some of the literary aspects of the book. As we finished talking she gave me spectacles to keep on the table and told me to switch the light off. I was aware that because of these works only she had called me. When a child grows up, he has some innovative ideas to follow and these ideas have contradiction with the ideas of the experienced persons. Me and Ma are no exception at few times in this regard although we both have a great understanding.

As I was taking the specs of Ma from her to keep on the table, I told her that she can put it near to pillow too at times, as I do for my specs. Ma leaves no chance to make me perfect human. She told me about the importance of specs and always keep it in the case or a safe place when not being used. She also told me about the wearing and taking the specs off with both hands. After I heard everything from her, I accepted my habit of wearing specs with one hand and taking off same way. While I was telling, I also demonstrated this and was going to tell that I never had any problem with this habit. I took off my specs with my left hand as my habit. I succeeded to do it and frame was safe in my hand. Ting!!!!!!!!!! Some thing has fallen on the floor it was my right glass from the specs frame. I bent down on the floor to pick it up, and it had broken partially. I was dumb struck. My ego to contradict elder’s suggestion had broken down. My face reddened. Ma did not smile or got angry. She told in sorrow “Ah! Bhenge gelo” ( Ah! It broke down). She did not told me much since she knew well that the sound of breaking glass was as loud as lightening for me with a thunderstorm. Rather she was feeling sorry for my glasses. She had remorse and told me that because of her only it broke down, had she not called me, my glass would not break!
She knew that something much harder than glasses had already broken.

26 January in Captivity

You must have seen the flag hoisting at the offices, homes and of course Lal Kila. Today I would like to tell about the Flag hoisting inside a Jail, the feared and neglected building of our society.
In Jails there is a flag at the entry which is hoisted daily as done in our Parliament House and Rastrapati Bhawan. On 26th January and 15th August, the Jail superintendent hoists the flag there. The prisoners can’t see the proceedings but once hoisted they can see the height where the National Flag flares. Inside the Jails, there are more flags to be hoisted there. Indian Jails were mostly built in British period, with red bricks thick high walls. On this day the inside roads of the jail are coloured with various coloured lime. The prisoners seem to give red carpet welcome to the Republic Day. The cleanliness is exemplary like our corporate offices to one’s surprise. The flower gardens bloom and the flag is ready to be hoisted inside the garden or the open place for the main prison place. Every morning, the prisoners are out of their barracks until they had their meals. So at the flag hoisting time they gather at one place. Unlike movies not all jails have white dresses and caps. They wear normal dress as we do.The prisoners don’t form queues there, they surround the flag. Some of the prisoner’s are well versed with the national anthem, but most are not. Why should they be expected to be so? After all they are the part of our society which forms the majority of such people who don’t know the full national anthem. Any festival inside the jail is a matter of big rejoices. Once the flowers from the flag fall on the earth they clap big hands. Might their faces become more hopeful for a better and civilized world. Some of the prisoners are smart enough to lead the social activities there. Be sure that the national anthem will never be synchronized among them. If one side of the crowd finish the anthem and the other side will still be singing “Gahe tab jaya gatha…..” . But some prisoners, who know the partial anthem, will be humming in between. Wait for sweets, distributing sweets is not an easy thing there. The so called miscreants are always challenge taking people. It’s our society and the circumstances who could not utilize their potentials or they them selves couldn’t feel the capacities lying within them. So devoid of joys, relatives, own soil’s smell they will surely enjoy the festival sweets distribution and may some conflict arise then. So the sweet distribution is done afterwards all the hoisting are over in a disciplined manner.

Once finished the celebrations at main place inside the jail the superintendent goes to the inner women cell which is a more secured jail inside the jail. Before entering the women’s cell the guard shouts “Hosiyaar” 3 times and the officials enter there. The prisoners who are fathers can’t keep their kids with them but mothers can keep the kids with them. This is one of the situations when I tell that the gender equality will never exist in the world.
The female prisoners are more nicely dressed using their limited resources compared to their male counterparts. And they too stand near the flag. And most of them despite sweet voice don’t know the anthem. But on this day inside the forbidden four walls, with officials and a tricolor cloth flying, lime decorations in the floor, and colorful flower petals spread over the floor the women’s cell may feel the festivity. Might the festivity be the mirage of home festival front of their eyes.
And as soon as the hoisting is over, the mirage again gets captivated behind the closed the doors. Almost every prisoner in the red brick wall must be dreaming in their hopeful eyes that some day they will be able to hoist the national flag with us in the open air. The parent prisoners might be hoping that they will be able to buy a small tricolor for Rs. 1/-, for their kids, who may be running today around the schools and offices for few Bundiyas or Jelebis and celebrating 26 January today.