Who knows!

If I’d known, I would have done things differently.

– The Dry (Jane Harper)

 

I might have done things differently. Or I might have wanted them to stay the same. Who knows? In this world of jumbled realities, it’s better to leave things as they are, than looking too much into them.

All good things come to and end. MUST come to an end. I don’t think this is necessarily a negative statement. How can something new come until you let go of the old? But cannot you run along with both? Who knows! I guess I have to find out.

PATIENCE.

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Time Turner

He looked forward impatiently, as one might look to the moment of a journey that one does not particularly wish to take. And like any traveler, he felt that there were many things he had to do before he left, yet he could not think what they were.

~ John Williams, Stoner

 

I am at home right now, courtesy Holi holidays (Holiday to be precise, clubbed with weekend). We are continuously chasing deadlines, trying to squeeze out few days in order to escape the loop. I have been home for Holi for the first time in last 5 years.

 

2014. Mumbai.

I had just entered the loop of the professional life and was still stuck in chasing targets. I was in Mumbai, with my cousins and Sam. I was walking from Pedder Road to Priyadarshini Park, taking in all the visuals that filled up the surroundings. This was the first time I was seeing how the city looked like in the festive season. There was a sharp contrast with “UP ki Holi” – No one attacked me with a barrage of color balloons. I could not see shirtless, silver faced humans, tripling on a bike, shouting out their ecstasy to the other members of the silver-face community. It was all quite civilized and I reached PDP safe and sound, although I did not wished for the same. I missed my city and this was one of the very few things of the Maximum city that did not appeal to me.

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कच्ची सड़क

आज काफी समय बाद मैंने अपने ब्लॉग में लॉगिन किया। प्रथम पृष्ठ पर ही मुझे कई अपूर्ण प्रारूप मिले। शब्द पीपल के पत्तो की तरह बिखरे पड़े थे। एक हवा का झोंका आता और इन सबको अपने साथ उड़ा ले जाता। इन सभी को लिखते समय मैंने इन्हे पूरा करने का संकल्प किया था। परन्तु समय के अभाव और ज़िन्दगी के जटिल स्वभाव में ये संकल्प भी उन पीपल की पत्तो की तरह कहीं उड़ सा गया था। इन्हे पूरा करने की मैं अब चेष्टा भी नहीं करना चाहता। क्यूंकि इन शब्दों के प्राण पखेरू अब उड़ चुके हैं। ना ही अब समय वह बीता हुआ समय है। और ना ही व्यक्ति।

आप आज दार्शनिको की तरह क्यों बात कर रहे हैं? और आज एकाएक हिंदी भाषा का प्रयोग कैसे? मैं काफी समय से यह प्रयोग करने को उत्सुक था। और एक मित्र की सलाह ने अंततः मुझे हिंदी में लिखने के लिए प्रेरित किया। मैंने ये लिखते समय यह भी अनुभव किया की हिंदी में दर्शन शाश्त्र इस तरह से बसा हुआ है की अंग्रेजी इस छेत्र में उसका प्रतियोगी नहीं हो सकता। यह भी संभव है की हर व्यक्ति अपनी प्रथम भाषा में जिस तरह भावित होता है वैसा किसी और भाषा में होना संभव नहीं।

लखनऊ में जब भी मैं हुसैनाबाद की तरफ से गुजरता था, वहाँ के घंटाघर पर मेरा ध्यान हमेशा ही जाता था। उसके घंटे को मैं पेंडुलम की तरह इधर से उधर नाचते मैं देखता रहता। कई वर्षो बाद आज जीवन भी उसी प्रकार दफ्तर और घर के बीच में नाचता हुआ नज़र आता है। इसमें कोई शोध करने वाली बात नहीं है। मैं इसे इस राह की एक अवस्था मात्रा समझता हूँ। मैं मानता हूँ की जीवन में ये अवस्था सामान्य है और काफी सीमा तक आवश्यक भी है। इसी नज़रिये से चीज़ो को देखते हुवे आगे बढ़ते रहने की मैं सदैव कोशिश करनी चाहिए।

अभी यहीं पर रुकता हूँ। बिन बुलाये मेहमान की तरह एक अनावश्यक कार्य मेरे सर पर सवार हो चुका है और टस से मस होने का नाम नहीं ले रहा। इसकी उचित व्यवस्था करने जाना होगा। समय की मर्ज़ी हुइ तो फिर मिलेंगे।

The World is Stone

The bus ride from Monachil to Granada was marked by the panoramic view of the hills of Sierra Nevada. The colorful corners cut across the street which twisted and moved like a serpent. The homes, like little crayon boxes, were stacked one above the other, on the hilly terrain. It was like the white city of Nerja, just a little more colorful, and slightly less spicy.

The bus ride from Monachil to Granada is marked by corners like these, repeated until the destination.

I was caught in a state of trance looking at the map, trying to memorize the path to Calle Elvira from the bus stop. I was glad and anxious to go around without the GPS. The next bus to Monachil would leave in 2 hours and that is all the time I had to go to Calle Elvira, procure what I came for, and make my way back to the stop. When we got down at Granada, everyone else started moving towards Alhambra, while I crossed the bridge and continued forward to the Plaza.

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Junction

I almost forgot about you.
As I thought.
But I will not give up on you yet.
Let’s see if we can get along.

Nothing but the blue sky from now on.
But what about the storm?
The overcast skies. Clouds storming in.
An angry gargoyle staring at us.
Let’s see if we can find calm in the storm, once again.

I don’t understand quotes.
They seem nothing more than just a few wise words.
Just as I don’t understand rhymes.
I cannot relate to it at that level.
We are the exceptions, of course.

The minority does not decide the nature of the society.
But we have always been firm believers in destiny.
Nothing could have been better. Nothing would be worse.
The balance will always be restored.

A complex game of probabilities.
Permutations and combinations of everyday life.
From the choice of coffee to our beliefs and ideologies.
A maze without a hero. Or a villain.

I almost forgot about you.
As I thought.
I see you peeking from the shadows.
The quest for clarity. You thought you almost had it.
Do you? Let’s see. Let’s see if we can still get along.
I will not give up on you yet.