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बचपन का मेरा सीकिंया मीत

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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 ।

नव वर्ष का नवनीत

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चुम रही थी, उसके मस्तक को,
नव वर्ष की मंगलकामनाएँ ।

चुम रही थी, उसके आँखों को,
‘नवल किशोर’ की नव दृष्टि ।

चुम रही थी, उसके कानों को,
नव परिचय की नव ध्वनियाँ ।

चुम रही थी, उसके गालों को,
नव प्रभात की नव लालिमा ।

चुम रही थी, उसके होठों को,
नव वर्ष की शुभ नवल वाणी ।

– पाठकों को नव वर्ष की असीम शुभकामनाएँ ।

मेरी प्रेरणा

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आज फिर तुमने कह दी,
बिना सोचे, बिना समझे ।
मुझे थोड़ा जाने, अनजाने ।
भींग गयी मेरी पुतलियाँ,
पर न थे कोई आँसु ।
भींग गया मेरा दिल ।
कुछ पंक्तियाँ, अपनापन लिए।
बिना पहचाने कि मैं कौन,
या खुब पहचाने मुझे ।

वर्षों पहले सुनता था,
ऐसी ही कुछ पंक्तियाँ,
मेरी नगण्य शक्ति पर।
बस आज तक वही ,
सच होती गयी ।
पता नहीं क्यों,
उसके बिना रहता ,
मै एक अकिंचन ।

मैं ढुंढ रहा था,
काफी दिनों सें,
कुछ ऐसे ही शब्द ।
आज फिर तुमने कह दी,
दुहरा दी वही बातें ।
थोड़ा हँसकर,
मेरी नादानी पर,
मोती से तेरे दाँत ।
थोड़ा गर्वित,
मेरे कारनामों पर,
होंठ कह गये कुछ पंक्तियाँ,
बस समझाकर ।

मैं उतावला नही दिखता,
पर सच पुछो तो – हूँ ।
पर लगता है फिर आज,
चुपके धड़कता है दिल मेरा ।
सच होंगी तेरी पंक्तियाँ,
सच होंगे मेरे सपने,
तु है फिर मेरी प्रेरणा ।

जीवन का एक पल

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मैनें बस कही, मेरे मन की,
बिना किसी विशेषण के,
बिना किसी सर्वनाम के ।

बस कुछ घंटे, इस पल के,
बस देखते-देखते बीत जाते,
जीया मैनें, पहली बार,
बिलकुल हँसकर, गाकर ।
बस सच्ची रंगो की भरी,
छेड़ते रंगोली की पिचकारी ।

जीवन की गति, किलोलें करती,
कभी मंद, कभी तीव्र गाती ।
उन सप्तकों पर तैरना
मैं सीख गया ।
हिलोरें लेना सीख गया,
मध्यम धाराओं में ।

दिख गया, आदीशक्ति की कला,
कितनी सुंदर है न उसकी,
समय की धारा,
बस यूँ ही बहता रहूँ ।
हँसता रहूँ, गाता रहूँ ।

हाँ, मैं खुश हूँ, मेरी हार से,
हार गया मेरा ” मैं ” ।
हाँ, मैं खुश हूँ, मेरी जीत से ।
कि मैनें जीता है एक पल ।

— कैसी हैं अँखियाँ रे तेरी —

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I wrote this poem last year ,  just imagining my completely unknown beloved  who must be studying or doing a job at some place  at that moment. Ma got sentimental after reading it, looking into my aankhein. This was also published in Hindi blogger’s web magazine http://nirantar.org . 

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कैसी हैं अँखियाँ रे तेरी,
काली, नीली या भूरी रे ।

पहाङी, देशी या हिरणी सी,
स्नेह लबालब वे अँखियाँ रे ।

सीपियों बीच मोतियाँ जैसे,
इठलाती हुई पुतलियाँ रे ।

सुख के सपने बसाये हूए,
आसुँ न कोई उनमें भरना रे ।

विपदा अगर कोई आन पङे तो,
तुम ह्रदय की आँखें खोलना रे ।

बचाने के लिए बुरीं नजरें फिर,
नजरों में काजल तुम लगाना रे ।

हँसती अँखियाँ तुम खुब सबेरे,
प्यार की किरण छितराना रे ।

दीवारों की भी अँखियाँ होती,
तुम सोच-समझकर चलना रे ।

मुझसे अगर कोई भुल हो जाए,
आँखों की ही भाषा कहना रे ।

आँखे अगर थकीं होतीं हो तेरी,
वो फिर मुझको दे जाना रे ।

निंदियाँ रानी की प्यारी आँखे,
बंद करके तुम फिर सो जाना रे ।

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Fiction or Real !

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The JNVians’ GT @ Kanpur finished off well on 19th Nov. Though except my little contribution of work for the GT, I was not present there physically. The organisers needed time to come-up with reports. For the time being there was no GT reports at forum. Then with ingredients of little but exactFiction and Real information, I had on hand from venue and after adding up my imagination, I cooked a piece of Kanpur GT description. Though, I never wrote that I was there, our alumni read it like original piece. But at one place dear Sumit spilled the beans ! On being questioned by Ajay, I had to give them clue that it was fiction. But the attendees of the GT complemented, its as a real fiction!

Earlier another funny fiction episode occurred, when I wrote on my so called second marriage anniversary 🙂 .

Though have not read many fictions, I have started dreaming to write someday real fiction too.

Bihar – the write thing ! (9) – Being a Bihari

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In my Navodaya days, I remember that during our vacations in home, after hearing the tone of my Bengali, Ma used to warn me – “Why your tone of speaking changed, be polite!” I used to wonder – how she marks it! Afterwards Navodaya days, for our career scopes, like thousands of learned family there, she too insisted that proceed anywhere outside than Bihar.

Year 1994, Ma and I reached Chennai by train for my coaching admissions. On the way in train, I was carrying all my certificates too. I had felt that, she didn’t slept most part of the nights, knowing my 10th mark sheet was in the box. Though the train comes out of Bihar territories, but it was the result of our fear of losing baggage in train journeys of Bihar!

At T. Nagar, Chennai, Ma took me to a hostel for making my stay arrangement during the coaching period. We were waiting at the reception unless the manager was to come. By the time on being asked a guy there told that one bed is going to vacate next 5 days. I used to be smarter those teenage days. I could talk in English too! As the manager came, I took the lead and was asking for the seat, if any. He refused to have any. I argued,-“Next week some seat no. was going to vacate”. He was surprised and now he refused more. Ma didn’t tell anything to him at that time.

After searching for few more hostels, Ma insisted to return back to same hostel. Now she spoke to him and requested for temporary arrangement if possible unless any seat is available. He immediately told okay and took my luggage into room no. 7. I was given a temporary seat.

Next day manager was telling to me -” See guy, I was not willing to give you seat here. But seeing your Ma and her behavior, I gave you seat. Otherwise Biharis I don’t give! I was shocked. “But your mother is Bengali”, he added. “Yes”, I nodded with surprise. In those days, I did not know that by costume one can be recognized of place of belonging. “How you knew that?”- I asked him. He added to prove his expertise- “People from all over India come here. Did not she have white & red bangles (shakha & pola) in her hand and Bengali sari and sindoor”. At that time only I knew that its unique identity of Bengali married ladies. Later on I knew that Oriya and Assamese ladies are almost same.

For such long period, I was for the first time outside Bihar. I mingled with the people from all over India there. Those 6 months were my days of improvements.

But my Bihari – non Residential Bengali identity remained unsolved. For my whole stay in Chennai, I used to tell people, I am from West Bengal. Though in fact, I stay at the boundary town of Bihar- Bengal. The 2 km south and 2 km north of our town is the boundary line of West Bengal with our relatives.

Again it was the year of 2001-02. I was working in a computer lab in Bangalore for my project works. My Professor used to have and still have fatherly affection for me. Obviously he knew well that I am from a Bihar town and he also knew that I came from Bengal town institute, Siliguri (Darjeeling) for projects. But several times when seeing me in the lab, his colleagues used to ask him about me. He used to tell them straight- “He is Prem from West Bengal, Darjeeling”. Once in hurry even he told too that “He is from Assam”. I have to digest the reality behind his convincing answers.

Still at the workplace or somewhere else on being asked my name – people get confused. Next question comes – “From where do you belong?” Obvious the answer is “Bihar”. But sensing the situation, I have to enrich them “though I am Bengali”.

Coming back to our home, Ma, though for our school studies she preferred Hindi than Bengali and at home our mother-tongue remained Bengali only. I can guess today that she maintained an unseen boundary around us from the local culture. Since our childhood days she impregnated fine arts, music, classical dance and other cultural activities which are indispensable part of any cultured Bengali families. We were allowed to mingle with selected friends only. Though she has risen up the levels of caste, creed and regional variations, after getting good marriage proposals from native Bihar families for my sisters, those could not be materialized.

I have to hear and bear the facts underlying. There all the things need to improve a lot including socio-political culture with added sense of responsibility.

In the cosmopolitan life, I am escaping the situations and maintaining my Bengali culture. The fact remains that I am born and brought up on the land of Bihar. I would have been happier, had people embraced me as Bihari !
Last posts in the same series :

Health Services , Rubberi Devi, Tea Production, Common man and Media, Democracy , Common Life, Origin as a State.

Who are You ?

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“Who Am I ?” was my first post on my blog journey dated November 23rd, 2004. Yesterday this blog completed two years.

The internet based technology is my bread and butter. Its my lone technical love ( addiction) too. It rewarded me honestly, and I too kept the blog associated with my principles of identity. Flowers

During the journey, I learnt many things from my fellow bloggers with best possible transparency. I got connected to a good circle around, some became indispensable. My posts sometimes got praised well, was tolerated many a times and few were criticized with dignity. I am proud of my global associations here, specially the network of Hindi bloggers and consistent readers.

Some other things I learnt were the typing in Hindi. But adding to sorrow, I saw disappearance of some blogs and final disappearance of a blogger too.

I learnt to come out of a shell. Since my words are expressed on public place instead of my personal diary, they are half worth unless those can reach the heart and brains of audience. The best thing I learnt here is rationality in thought. Though emotional outcomes could not be checked, its impossible almost.

FlowersOn this occasion of celebration, I do hope to add new category of humour as per my Ma’s guidance. She thinks (me too) that, now a days with a loads of work and due to lack of understanding of feelings people are already stressed. They need something to smile back. On this Sunday, I am going to buy ingredients for preparing the (0 – 100%) guaranteed humour tonic. 🙂

Obviously, the journey started with self centric posts, later moved towards people around me. Hence as a mark of respect to all around me, this special post is dedicated to my readers.

Thank you, very much, my inspirations. Something kept me intact for two years, I do wonder, who are you ?

Its a Page-3 lesson !

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It was the set of movie Babul. This incident is a real one . Rani Mukherjee was learning bike driving lessons from Salman. He gave Rani the clutch and accelerator lessons well and she paid half attention to those.Rani Mukherjee

She started the bike. With her half learnt lessons, the bike accelerated full and jumped into the air few meters high ! To everyone on the set, this was an unbelievable real action. As the bike crashed on land, every one on the set was looking towards the British guy present there instead of the bruised Rani. The 10 years old bike was owned and well maintained by the British guy. His bike !! To surprise, British guy without any worry was laughing. On being asked he replied “Mr. Salman, why only 1 bike, I can sacrifice 10 such bikes to see such an action”.

Maintaining a bike for 10 years was easier but not the calm composure and emphasizing the action happened there. I adore you, man!

Billu and His Bride

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The friend got married, and our share of love and affection did not get divided. Our golden days still exists today, still I find my friends same cordial and jovial as they used to be 10 years ago.
On Friday I went to see Rajeev’s (We call him Billu) bride, at Thakurganj when they have returned after 5 days long marriage ceremony at the bride’s home. From Siliguri I had brought a bouquet of orchid flowers to present his bride. I had not seen Rajeev’s house at Thakurganj so I was enquiring about his home in his colony. It was around 8 pm in night and I found several guys chatting on the roadside in his colony. In colonies, the road standing guys, grocery shop owners, the barbers have enough information about the events in the colony. I asked that guy about Rajeev who got married. He knew Rajeev and to my surprise he also informed me that they had not returned from the bride’s home. But I was informed by Rajeev’s mother on phone to come on friday and if possible one day earlier.
I was thinking about my bouquet which I carried so carefully from Siliguri! Does it look nice to carry a bouquet in a bride less home? I was in a dilemma. Since orchid bouquet remains fresh at least one week, I decided to tell that boy, Munna to keep the bouquet in some known home for a while till I can find out the truth of bride from his home. While he was keeping it to some nearby home, the house owner too confirmed that Rajeev has not returned. Any way I proceeded to his home. I gave my identity to a person and he went inside to tell about me and then a smart guy came out from the room and hugged me so hard, it was my Rajeev. Just keeping me hugged, he asked my reason not coming in Barat and he told me that how much he missed me there. As soon I left the bondage of his arms I told him that I have to come back in just a while. My heart was pounding for my bouquet, I have kept in that home. He kept asking the reason for my sudden return, but I could not wait much time to describe him. Again when I came back with my bouquet and asked about the bride such that I can present it to the couple. But he objected on my presentation that still that day he has not given a single flower to his bride and I was going to give a big bouquet to the new bride. We were laughing. Any way he took me to the room. The bride was sitting on the floor bed with a big ghunghat. Rajeev introduced me to her. I could see her partial face only. I was requested to sit on the same bed where Rajeev’s brothers/sister in laws were sitting. So there started a series jokes and fine humours. Rajeev was still claiming his share of gift. I wonder if Rajeev needs any more gifts than he already got from the Almighty. By the time his mother came in the room and he was complaining about the useless marriage rituals went over at bride’s home. Aunt told him to be prepared for more rituals at his home too. Frustrated Rajeev almost revolted about such useless marriage customs. To make him understand aunt told us a story
“These was Big Yagya performed at the rich man’s house in olden times, the pujas were going smoothly, by the time a cat wandered near to the Yagya place. Instead of chasing the cat some one tied it to a nearby a small pole. Any person who were coming to see the big yagya saw the cat tied to a pole at the yagna place. The yagya finishes in time and people went off. Those visitors again when performed the Yagna at there houses did everything in the same way and they get a cat from anywhere and tie it near to the Yagna place. This custom was followed by the coming generations”.
So Rajeev’s maa is also following the traditions and tying the cat. We kept laughing on hearing the story. Rajeev cooled down. And the bride could not stop smiling and the ghunghat was not so down. She was easy now. Might be she thinking that she got a nice mother-in-law. She talked a little with me too. Rajeev could not resist asking me how I liked her. To reply I asked her whether she has a lot of sisters like her for us (My friends, I cared for you too ).She nodded in affirmation and her smile is worth thousands words. And in my eyes she is beautiful.
And in the next hour I was at their kitchen. My few hours spent there did not seem the shift of phase for Rajeev. He is still the same “Billu” for us.
Our all the best wishes for the couple and may their married life have ever lasting blossom.