At about 10:15 in the morning, mywife calls me out loud from the kitchen, "Zara jaldi ao toh ! ." This is enough to scare me out of my wits as I too keep going to the kitchen to do small chores like preparing tea, warming water to drink and boiling milk and I fear something might have gone amiss.I rush to the kitchen and my wife points to the cracked crystal/ toughened glass top of the gas stove in front.My wife had warmed some ghee on a burner for pooja and there is this cracking sound and damage to the stove that has served us for almost a decade. Mercifully I have had my breakfast . Fearing that some broken pieces might have found way into the cookware atop, the cooked vegetable, even though covered has to be thrown.
In the evening we go to the bazaar, get a new gas stove, the dealer offering some rebate on the old damaged stove.The salesman advises us not to go for the auto ignition, as according to him disaster has occurred due to that. Agreeing, we go for the manual option with the lighter.
Much to our relief, the person bringing the stove, fixes it and takes the old one.
All this happened yesterday .
स्मृति शेष
तेज राम शर्मा
( 25.03.1943 – 20.12.2017 )
तुम को न भूल पाएंगे !
आज पूरा एक वर्ष हो गया आपको गए , पर अब भी विश्वास नहीं होता कि आप भौतिक / शारीरिक अवस्था में अब साथ नहीं हैं । साथ हैं तो आपकी बातें, समय समय पर आपके द्वारा दिये जाने वाले बहुमूल्य परामर्श व मार्गदर्शन और मानवीय संवेदना से युक्त आपकी काव्य रचनाएं । आपके द्वारा गत वर्ष 18 नवंबर को फेसबुक पर डाला गया अंतिम हाइकु-
हाइकु
अनाथ हुए
आत्महा दवा हुई
विधवा हुई
- मन को व्याकुल करता है ।
क्या यह पूर्वाभास था , सब कुछ छोड़ कर चले जाने का ? इतनी जल्दी समर्पण करने वालों में आप नहीं थे. You had been a fighter !
स्वास्थ्य संबंधी जो भी आपकी नज़र से गुज़रता, आपने सदा विभिन्न माध्यमों से मेरे साथ साझा किया। फिर इसे नियति की विडम्बना न कहें तो क्या कहें कि गर्दन की दर्द जिसे केवल cervical spondylosis समझ कर उपचार करवाया जा रहा था , उसके साथ ही शरीर में कुछ और प्रक्रिया भी चल रही थी , जिसका आभास तक न हुआ। आखिर में बाद परीक्षण जब nervous breakdown जैसा कुछ बताया गया तो उस समय बहुत देर हो चुकी थी । नियति अपना काम कर चुकी थी । परिणामत: आप अलविदा कह कर चल दिये । वापिस आयी तो आपकी निर्जीव देह !
आपकी अपनी ही एक कविता, कुछ इस तरह-
जब मैं वापसी की सोचता हूँ -
जब मैं वापसी की सोचता हूँ
तो बहुत आगे निकल चुका होता हूँ
अपनी नियति को बदलने में असमर्थ
यात्रा पर मेरे पहले कदम के साथ-साथ
हवा ने भी अपना रुख बदला होगा
काली बिल्ली काट गई होगी रास्ता
यादव वंश–सा कोई शाप
वहाँ भी फलीभूत हुआ होगा
मुझे डर है
कुम्भीपाक उतर आया होगा
दंत-कथाओं से
ज़मीन पर
उंगलियों के छोर पर
बढ़ आए होंगे नाख़ून
समय नशे में धुत
जगमगाते शहरों में भटक गया होगा
थैली की गर्दन पर
कस गई होगी उसकी पकड़
वापसी जहाँ होगी
समय नहीं ताने होगा वहाँ
तोरण और बंदनवार
वहाँ दहलीज़ पर
फैल गए होंगे कुकुरमुत्ते।
सौजन्य : कविता कोश
------
अनुकरणीय जीवन यात्रा के साथ ही तीन दशक से अधिक की काव्य सृजन यात्रा को भी चिर विराम !
सादर नमन !
Today is the birth anniversary of Om Prakash,a leading character actor of Hindi Cinema. Born Om Prakash Chhiber, this day in 1919 at Jammu,he started his career by working in All India Radio in 1937 at a monthly salary of Rs.25/- and the character of Fateh Din he played became very popular in Lahore and Punjab. He was trained in Classical music but did not take up music as a profession. He turned to film acting in 1942 in and in a career spanning five decades, played character roles in films and was a sought after actor.
His filmography includes films like, Dus Lakh, Annadata, Charandas, Sadhu air Shaitan, Dil Daulat Dunia, Apna Desh, Chupke Chupke, Julie, Joroo Ka Ghulam,Pyar Kiye January, Padosan, Zanzeer, Budha Mil Gaya,Nanak Halaal, Bharosa,Mere Humdum Mere Dost, Howrah Bridge, Miss Mary, Sargam,Bahar, There Ghar ke Samne , Doli,Amar Prem, Anurag and many many others. He was cast in comic as well as tragic roles and excelled in both.
He died on 21 February 1998 aged 78.
Our humble tributes to the great Actor !
A little more than two years back, I had written a post about Bruno, a pet ,a German Shepherd in the immediate neighborhood who to the surprise of all had become friendly with us instantly when we relocated some seven years ago- just a casual visit , a round of the house feeling every nook and corner inside and smelling & sniffing us.One known to be a terror for casual visitors and strangers adopted us in no time.No unwanted person could dare enter the compound or the vicinity. Faithful to the core, like perhaps all canine pets are, the owners would leave the house unbolted and unlocked, to his care.
Bruno, that's the name by which he was called disappeared last month. He disappeared first on 21st , remained somewhere hidden and not traceable on 22nd but was spotted nearby on 23rd and brought , with an eye injured and bruised.As usual on 24th in the early morning he went out for jungle pani ,this time never to return. A week long search proved futile as he was nowhere to be found. Maybe some Big Cat took him.
I have resisted writing about him sharing the hope and optimism of the owners and others in the neighborhood that he would return home taking everyone by surprise but alas !
Now there is no check on unwanted passers by, with monkeys and langurs having a field day causing all types of nuisance .
Missing you Bruno , you have been such a darling !
DOZAKHNAMA
Conversations in hell
By Rabisankar Bal
Translated into English by Arunava Sinha
Published by
Penguin Random House India
Pp 533
Price: Rs. 450/-
DOZAKHNAMA is a novel by Rabisankar Bal originally written in Bengali.
The narrator, a journalist visits Lucknow in connection with some research on Tawaifs of Lucknow and per chance stumbles upon a manuscript of an Urdu novel purported to have been written by Saadat Hassan Manto, the iconic short story writer of the sub continent.Curiosity gets the better of him and he decides to learn Urdu so as to be able to read it.He engages someone to tutor him but finds the task daunting . It is decided that the said tutor would read out the novel to the narrator.
Mirza Ghalib , the Urdu - Persian poet & Manto , the short story writer- both geniuses in their respective fields divided in time by more than a century, indulge in conversation with each other from their graves.They talk to each other alternately through chapters , with Manto addressing Ghalib as Mirza Sahib and Ghalib adressing Manto as Manto Bhai,with due respect to age.The readers are also addressed as dear friends.
Both have some similarities. Both have had disturbed childhood full of miseries and deprivation, been through turbulent times, Ghalib being a witness to the 1857 rebellion and the aftermath; Manto ,a witness to the 1947 partition .Both are given to vices like drinking and visiting Tawaifs & brothels, but not without purpose. The reader is taken through a mix of fact and fiction so intricately woven that the novel comes across as a valuable chronicle of times.One gets to know the creative process of the two geniuses, their troubles, miseries, financial insecurities and humiliations-in short vagaries of fate.
Ghalib talks about the loss of seven children, none surviving more than a year and a half, the meager pension not sufficient to pull through as besides other things, he needs a daily quota of liquor. Still he nanages to keep up appearances, proud of his ancestry of Turk soldiers.There is also some spiritual quest when he talks of ishq majazi and ishq haqiqi.A brief sojourn at Kashi proves a spiritually rewarding experience to Ghalib. In between shers of Mir and Hafiz are quoted by Ghalib inter alia his own poetry.
Manto too has a disturbed childhood, neglected by his father , not providing for him whereas his step brothers get the best of education abroad .He takes to drinking with habit remains with him, and hastens his end at the age of 43.The novel also provides a peep into the background to some of the stories and the characters depicted therein. His stay at Bombay, his stint as the editor of a magazine, his meetings with Ismat Chugtai with whom he enjoys some equation.His working at Delhi and migration to Pakistan all find mention. He dies a frustrated man as the country of his adoption does not seem to accept him.In between is discussed the court cases slapped on him and Ismat Chugtai for alleged obscenity in their writings.
All this makes an interesting reading and perhaps no other single work discusses the two greats in such detail.It is a result of thorough research. The non Urdu knowing readers like me do feel handicapped because the poetry is quoted in Urdu script and the English translation given alongside does not do full justice to the wonderful poetry.Otherwise the English translation of the novel is excellent .
I being a fan of both Ghalib and Manto liked it immensely.
Today is the first death anniversary of Shashi Kapoor, the famous Bollywood actor, producer and director. Youngest and also the handsomest of the three sons of Prithvi Raj Kapoor, he had been active both in theater and cinema and has also worked in English movies like Shakespeare Wallah and Siddhartha. He started his career acting in Prithvi Theatre,his father's theatre Company.Turning to films,he acted as a child artiste in Aag(1948) and Awaara(1951).He also had his stint as an Assistant Director and a Director. While working in theatre in London, he came across theatre artist Jennifer Kendal whon he eventually married.Together they nurtured Prithvi Theatre and acted in many plays.
A versatile actor, he acted as a hero , a villain, and a character artist, across the entire spectrum of more than 150 movies he acted in.His first lead role was in 1961 film Dharamputra, which met only with partial success.This made him turn to Western Cinema but soon He returned to mainstream Hindi Cinema. He paired most successfully with Nanda, the actress with whom he worked in eight movies, the most popular one being Jab Jab Phool Khile.He had lead role in about 60 films,the others being second lead and in multi starrer films.Most of the time he was cast in Romantic and positive roles. The songs picturized on him also became popular hits.His filmography includes, Dharamputra, Jab Jab Phool Khile, Deewar, Fakira, Neend Hamari Khwaab Tumhare, Mehandi Lagi Mere Hath Re, Kabhi Kabhi, Raja Saab , Rootha Na Karo , Satyam Shivam Sundaram, Suhaag and many many others.
He was third of the Kapoor clan to receive the coveted Dada Saheb Phalke Award and was also a recipient of Padma Bhushan.
Our humble tributes to the highly talented film and theatre personality !
WAS IT A DREAM is a short story by
Guy De Maupassant, the 19th
century French short story writer. A master story teller, he is known for
the surprise endings , much to the shock of the reader.
The story is set in Paris.An
unnamed lover is unable to bear the loss of his beloved who has died due to cough and fever
she catches suddenly , after
getting wet in the rain.He runs away from
home soon after the last rites .
After some years he returns to
Paris, his home and once more
feels nostalgic to think of his beloved. He feels her permanent
impression on the mirror in which she used to look before leaving home , to ensure
that every thing was in place.
He makes his way to the
graveyard on a dark moonless night , and tired sits on the stone of an old grave. Soon he feels
the earth shaking and the stone rising. Frightened , he shifts
to the other stone nearby . He sees
a skeleton rising from the grave.
The epitaph on the stone reads ‘Here lies Jacques
Olivant, who died at the age of fifty-one. He loved his family, was kind and
honorable, and died in the grace of the Lord’.
The skeleton reads the
epitaph and sets out to erase the letters. After erasing the letters , he rewrites the epitaph which
now reads “‘Here reposes
Jacques Olivant, who died at the age of fifty-one. He hastened his father’s
death by his unkindness, as he wished to inherit his fortune, he tortured his
wife, tormented his children, deceived his neighbors, robbed everyone he could,
and died wretched.’
Surprised and shocked he
walks to the grave of his beloved
and finds his dead
beloved indulging in the same
activity of erasing and rewriting . The epitaph
which earlier read ‘She loved, was
loved, and died’now reads ‘Having gone out one day, in order to
deceive her lover, she caught cold in the rain and died.’
The story ends with the line ‘It appears that they found
me at daybreak, lying on the grave unconscious.’
This is not a conventional love story though
the narrator and the central character is a lover. Maupassant has not given any name to
the lover and the beloved to extend the
scope of the narrative as relating to
the humanity world wide. The name Jacques
Olivant appears only as a reference
point.
Only the dead know about themselves , is the easy inference
one can draw.
