Sunday, May 27, 2007

meeting you again..

देखता हूं देखनें को मैं दुनिया के रन्ग सारे,
पर बनाने वाला हर मसीहा नादान लगता हैं,
ठीक चलती हैं सांसें फिर भी,
जाने मन क्यों बेजान लगता हैं,
एक ही कतार में चलते दिखते सब फिर भी,
दिशाहीन जाने क्यों हर इन्सान लगता हैं,
सजा लिये हैं नये काफ़िले तुमने भी मैंने भी लेकिन,
तुमसे मिलकर आज फिर हर जहाँ सुनसान लगता हैं..

Thursday, May 17, 2007

For my return to home

It is always in the nostalgic lane, the train to my home before Diwali.
Every corner of this hustling city, I see people bursting crackers. Most of them are the street goers, the elite are usually on their way to their home. But for each of these people, a feeling is shared. And that is this expression of joy on their face. I always used to wonder standing aloof; believe me I still do; as what makes all these people happy. A festival of lights, no not that! The triumph of truth over evil! No not that too!
And with this confusion, I begin my trip back home.
The engine has already whistled, before I could put a brake to my thoughts. And they start flowing again. This time with the speed of the train! Every street of the passing city is so illuminated with the joy of the numerous lights hanging there. It is very funny what they call these lights; the series of electric bulbs; it is called a "ladi" back at my place.

It is very beautiful in the night, I must say!
The train passes through the beauties of all nature. Some factories, some fields, some not so big rivers. But all these seem to be very smoothly illuminated by an absent moon. Not that I never see them on other days! But just on the Diwali trip, it seems as if the "diyas" have flown far off some place from heaven. Far enough to give them such a soothing light. It is not a distant journey. A matter of five and half hours, and I intersect the course of the Chambal.

It is the break of some odd 0400 hours that I see the Chambal. And funnily enough, I get the feeling. Yes! This is where I belong, the city of my childhood. The city is all asleep when I make it through the roads to the most distant of all places. It rightly is the most distant of all places, my home! Because even before I reach there, I had already met my friends, my most special ones, the book store keeper, the pan shop-keeper. Every one of them, so much not there, but still become so much there for me.

It is a beautiful colony where we live.
I reach my place. My father has already left to play tennis by that time. It is one routine I never saw him breaking since my early childhood! And my mother hugs me with all the might of her love. It has been seven years since I left for Delhi. But I never found that hug going weaker in might. A hug so peaceful, and yet so homely!

I still am confused, as to why the people I saw last night were happy. As to why everything in nature seemed so happy. But I know the reason to my happiness; Diwali always gives me a trip back home!

Wish the same for you!

- Abhas.