Posted on by Anamika

अंकवारी

Pic credit: Pinterest

हमें रोना चाहिए। रोना कमज़ोरी की निशानी होती है। ये बात कोई मेरी माँ को समझाए। वो डरती ही नहीं हैं आँसुओं से। जब भी हम में से कोई घर से दूर जाता है वो रो पड़ती हैं। जब भी उन्हें उनकी माँ की याद आती है, वो रो पड़ती हैं। लेकिन हम भी कम नहीं हैं। काफी मेहनत के बाद हमने उन्हें ‘सभ्यता’ सिखा दी है। अपने जज़्बातों को छुपाना सिखा दिया है। रोने के नुकसान बता दिए हैं। कैसे रोना ना सिर्फ आपको कमज़ोर बनाता है, बल्कि सामने वाले के मज़बूत इरादों की नींव भी हिला सकता है, जिससे उनका ज़रूरी काम रुक सकता है।

अब माँ भी कम रोती हैं । दरअसल हमारे सामने नहीं रोती हैं। उन्होंने भी अकेले में रोना सीख लिया है।

इस बार जब घर से दूर जाने के दिन नज़दीक आ रहे थे, तब माँ ने एक बात बताई मुझे। उन दिनों की बात जब औरतें सिर्फ ज़ोर-ज़ोर से चिल्ला कर रोने के लिए जानी जाती थीं। मम्मी कभी पढ़ाई या काम के लिए घर से दूर नहीं रहीं लेकिन घर छोड़ने का दुख शायद ही उनसे बेहतर कोई समझता हो। जब 19 साल की उम्र में उनकी शादी हो गई, ज़्यादा दूर नहीं, बस दूसरे ज़िले में, तबसे उनका कोई घर नहीं है सिर्फ उनके लोग हैं। जब तक नानी थीं, तब तक मायका था, अब जहां बच्चे हैं वही घर है। शायद इसीलिए वो परेशान हो जाती हैं जब उनके बच्चे दूर चले जाते हैं, कि अब वो उस चारदीवारी को घर कैसे समझें?

ख़ैर तो बात ये थी की जब मम्मी को मायके से वापस ससुराल जाना होता था तो नानी एक महीने पहले से ही दिन गिनना शुरू कर देती थीं कि मम्मी दोबारा कब, किस मौके पर वापस आऐंगी। एक बार ऐसे ही दिन गिनते गिनते मम्मी के ससुराल वापस जाने का दिन आ गया। हर बार की तरह मम्मी और नानी एक दूसरे को गले लगाकर जी भर कर रोने ही वाले थे कि उन्हें याद आ गया कि कैसे छोटी बहन की विदाई के समय नाना ने सब औरतों को ‘नान-जात’ की तरह रोने के लिए फटकार लगा दी थी।

“‘नान-जात’ की तरह रोना” यानि कि छोटी जात वालों की तरह रोना। कितने पाखंडी होते हैं हम। जो चीज़ हमे पसंद नहीं, या जिसे करने में हमें शर्म आती है, डर लगता है उसे हमने उनके साथ जोड़ दिया है जिन्हें हम छोटा समझते हैं। लड़कों को रोने से रोकने के लिए ‘औरतों की तरह रोने’ का ताना मारा जाता है और औरतों को रोकने के लिए ‘नान-जात’ का। सच्चाई ये है कि हम सब नान-जात हैं क्योंकि हम सभी रोते हैं।

उस दिन मम्मी और नानी नहीं रोए। शायद आंखों में आँसू भरकर, आंचल के पीछे मुंह छुपाकर कुछ सिसकियां ली हों, लेकिन जिसे मम्मी ‘भड़ास निकालने’ वाला रोना या मन हल्का करने वाला रोना कहती है वो नहीं हुआ। मम्मी बताती हैं कि पहले विदाई के समय डोली हर थोड़ी-थोड़ी दूर पर रोकनी पड़ती थी, क्योंकि औरतें रोती इतना थी, दुल्हन अपनी माँ को पुकारकर को माँ अपनी ‘धीया’ को।

“अब इसे अच्छा नहीं मानते,” बोलकर वो मेरी तरफ़ मुड़ीं। “मन करता तोहके भर अंकवारी खूब रोईं।” लेकिन हम भी उस दिन नहीं रोए। क्योंकि हमें रोना चाहिए। रोना कमज़ोरी की निशानी होती है।

Posted on by Anamika

Time and Emotions

Pic credit: Pinterest

I am a slow learner. Not when it comes to hard facts, remembering historical dates or even chemistry formulas. It’s more about emotions, so we can rather say I am not able to adapt easily.

I realised this while returning from home after Chhath Puja this time.

I am not really a flight person unless, obviously, it is very urgent, or it is a very long journey. Trains have a special place in my heart, probably because my father is a retired railway engineer. Our family has enjoyed a lot of free rides, my favourite being the journey from Lucknow to Nasik, all thanks to him.

But, as you grow up, one thing that you are always struggling for is time and flights help you save that time. With three days’ leave in hand, all I could do to make the best out of it was to catch a flight.

While I was heading home, it didn’t feel that weird that I woke up at 4:30 in Indore and by 10:30 the same morning I was embracing my mum at home in Lucknow. Happiness and excitement do make you think less. Like I am pretty sure the pilot announced the outside temperature when I landed in Lucknow as well, but it hit me only when I was returning to Indore and I started wondering why they do that.

Pic credit: Pinterest

I know that most probably it’s just basic courtesy or just a piece of information that passengers find interesting. But, I would like to believe that they do so because you have travelled a very long distance in a very short span of time and inside the aeroplane you have no idea how your surroundings have changed.

When I landed back in Indore and reached my flat it took me some time to comprehend the fact that just this morning I woke up in a house full of people and life. Where I did not have to think about what to have for breakfast, where my mother had already packed my lunch box before I even woke up, where my sister packed my bag for me and where my father dropped me at the airport without even me having to ask for it. Then, all of a sudden, back to nothingness or independence, as we may call it euphemistically.

I am so used to sleeping in one city and waking up in another that crossing that same distance, on the same morning, within two hours, took me off guard.

The longer journeys give you some time to gulp it all. On the train, you see the whole journey unfold in front of you, almost like a very slow transition. From one station to another, our surroundings change gradually; the weather, the people, the language, everything.

I remember almost tearing up at Lucknow railway station every time, but by the time I reach my destination, I have already made up my mind, sorted the course of action and sort of back to what I am supposed to be in this city.

The situation is almost similar to how we find ourselves begging someone to stay a little longer when they break up with us. It is because we don’t know how to act after the connection is suddenly snapped. We ask them not to completely stop talking because we are used to that communication, and so we want time to let our feelings resolve. This request often gets rejected though, as the other person has already moved on and cannot waste their time with us anymore.

So, it’s a battle between time and emotions everywhere and there is no solution to this. Life doesn’t give you time to settle down, sometimes not even physically, let alone emotionally.

Posted on by Anamika

Girl in the mirror

Pic credit: Pinterest

I am so proud of her
The way she is holding up
By herself, gulping it all
Like poison in a silver cup.

The falls, the jumps, the heartbreaks
Sewed her pillow with jewels
Cause no shoulder was worthy enough
Of the tears that could fill pools.

Pitying yourself is the worst
Asking what led to this hell
She picked up others from the mud
Failed to get up when herself fell.

Even when on the ground
The passerine loved the sky
A broken bone and dirty skirt
She stood up again for another flight.

To hide the ugly swollen eyes
She adorned her face with a smile
The loveliest faces are always those
Getting eaten away from inside.

‘Just another 24 hours’
She imitated from behind the mirror
Oh! I am so proud of her
My sweet little silly dreamer.

Posted on by Anamika

तोहफ़े में दी हुई किताब

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न जाने किस मनहूस घड़ी में मुझे उस पर इतना प्यार आया था कि उसे अपनी पसंदीदा किताब तोहफ़े में दे दी। आज न वो किताब मेरे पास है, न वो इंसान। लेकिन उस लम्हे को मनहूस कहना सही नहीं है। कुछ तो सोचा होगा मैंने। शायद ये कि क्या पता वो जल्द ही पढ़ कर वापस कर देगा या फिर ये कि हम इतने लंबे समय तक साथ रहेंगे कि किताब उसके पास हो या मेरे, एक ही बात होगी।

मुझे पीछे मुड़ कर देखना पसंद नहीं है, क्योंकि मुझे कमज़ोर नहीं साबित होना। फिर भी सब कुछ खत्म हो जाने के बाद भी जब उसने एक बार मिल लेने को कहा तो मैं मान गई। स्वार्थी हो गई थी मैं। सोचा बातों-बातों में किताब का ज़िक्र कर दूंगी तो वो खुद ही वापस लौटा देगा। एक बार को सोचा भी नहीं कि ये कितनी ओछी हरकत होगी।

मुझे बस अपना एक टुकड़ा ऐसे इंसान के पास छोड़ना नागवार गुज़र रहा था जो मुझे कभी समझ ही नहीं पाया।

वो कोई नई किताब नहीं थी। बाज़ार से महंगी से महंगी चीज़ खरीद कर लाना और किसी को दे देना आसान होता है। क्योंकि वो चीज़ अभी आपकी नहीं हुई होती है। उसमे जान नहीं होती है। उसमें आप नहीं होते हैं।

वो किताब मेरी थी, मैंने पढ़ी थी, अपनी पसंदीदा पंक्तियां रेखांकित की थीं और शायद कुछ लिखा भी होगा। शायद वो कभी समझ नहीं पाया कि किसी को अपनी मनपसंद किताब तोहफ़े में देने का क्या मतलब होता है।

हम कभी नहीं मिले दोबारा। अब मेरी किताब हमेशा उसके पास रहेगी। ‘मेरी’ इसलिए कह रही हूं क्योंकि उसके पहले पन्ने पर मेरा नाम लिखा है। एक नाकाम कोशिश उसपर अपना हक जमाने की। काश इतना आसान होता किसी को अपना बनाना, बस नाम लिख दो।

दिलचस्प बात है कि उस किताब में उसका नाम भी है। मैंने नहीं लिखा है, पहले से ही था। उस कहानी का एक हिस्सा।

उस कहानी का एक वाक्या बखूबी याद है मुझे। उसका मतलब भी अब ज़्यादा बेहतर समझ में आता है।

हुआ कुछ यूं था कि खां साहब फुन्नन मियां को अपनी ग़ज़ल सुना रहे थे। लेकिन इस ग़ज़ल के एक शेर को सुन कर फुन्नन मियां चौंक पड़े और बोले, “साहब हम कोनो पढ़े लिखे त हैं नहीं। बाकी आशिक के वास्ते सर उठाने का महावरा कुछ समझ में न आया। ऊ सर कटा सकता है, मंसूर बनकर, सरमद बनकर। ऊ ईसा बनकर सूली पर चढ़ सकता है। बाकी ऊ सर नहीं उठा सकता। सर उठाना तो मोहब्बत का कच्चापन साबित करता है, जैसे ऊ को अपनी मोहब्बत की अकड़ है।”

शायद हमारी मोहब्बत में भी कच्चापन था।

Posted on by Anamika

Empty

Pic credit: Pinterest

I imagined a piece of flesh hanging from the ceiling
In the blankness of the mind it fitted in right

How long has it been there?

It will take them days to realise
Who will look for me, who will be the first one to find?

The train of thoughts was moving fast skipping all the junctions
I pulled the chain and got off at some random location

Time to eat, the stomach said
Will have to cook, said the mind
The train consumed all the fuel, I can’t wake up, not even as much as to switch on the light

Let it be then both agreed
It’s anyways not unbearable
And what’s the point of throwing food
First get accustomed to cooking for one person

Last night I broke into tears while laughing hysterically on a joke
It’s no mood swings, not my periods
Just the echo of my laugh that makes me choke

People ask me to ‘make’ friends
Are they some craft? How do I make them?
Or may be this is how it was always done?
I just failed to learn the art, not even in decades

Now the blushing sky tells me the sun is almost here
Then the knocking on my eyelids must be some sleep
Take a nap before the train departs again
And takes you on an endless journey of emotions like some forest deep.

Posted on by Anamika · 2 Comments

The Youngest One

Pic credit: Pinterest

The pampered, the spoiled, the privileged one,
Yes you guessed it right, I am the youngest one.

My sister’s wardrobe is my wardrobe, but my wardrobe is not hers,
Shoes, lunch box I don’t buy anything, I always get them from others.

And my brother of course is so protective almost like a father figure,
Whatever I want I just take it, coz mom says, “She is younger no…let her.”

But being the youngest is not all rainbows and sunshine,
You could be twenty three and treated like nine.

And just like the closet which never get empty My heart is always filled with insecurities.

Yes, luckily enough I wasn’t the experimental child,
Mom and dad learning parenting with you must have been wild.

But then how did you turn to be so damn perfect,
It’s like they molded and shaped you exactly how they wanted.

Now how am I supposed to match your excellence,
I am tired of these comparisons, somebody show them the difference.

Please don’t think I am not thankful to you for paving the way,
I’m just trying to figure out my identity, my own pathway.

Above all the biggest curse of being the youngest kid,
Is feeling in 20s what my siblings might in 30s mid.

By default I will get to spend the least time with my parents,
Like writing this poem while scared of their sudden disappearance.

The lost, the neglected, the insecure one,
Allow me to introduce myself, I am the youngest one.

Posted on by Anamika

The delight of delay

Pic credit: Shutterstock

Ever sipped a cup of tea slower than usual because the conversation over it turned very interesting and you wanted it to last longer ? Or perhaps walked down a lane that takes you barely 5 mins to cross on normal days, for 15 or say 20 mins because you were accompanied by your favourite person.

It’s not exaggeration if I say that– “In this fast moving world”- can be used as the opening phrase for most of the content nowadays as it is short, relevant and relatable. One of the few things consistent in the ever changing life of humans is the tendency to get things done faster than they were being done previously. Take a mobile phone for example, with every new launch “fast charging” facility is getting even “faster”. Progress is synonymous to speed and every new innovation aims at providing it and reducing the time we need to spend on completing tasks. But, what brings us joy needs our time.

All of us have wanted for games period to last longer than others and the crazy thing is that time always felt going faster during our favourite period. The same 45 mins that seemed to last ages during maths lecture (sorry maths lovers), ended in the blink of an eye when it was a free period. Indeed, time passes at its fixed interval, neither sooner nor later. It’s the amusement, the pleasure that makes us forget that time exists and we don’t even look at the watch like we do every 2-3 mins when something that doesn’t interest us is going on.

Remember how when we are excited for something, we avoid sleeping. Because sleeping makes time disappear without us even noticing it. Meanwhile a child who is going to meet his father after months will surely want to live through all the moments leading up to when he can finally hug his father. No doubt, we feel the joy of delay most distinctly when we’re in love. If you have ever made the night third wheel, then no one knows it better than you, your partner and the moon of course, how much you dreaded the alarm clock and the slight redness in the sky signifying the departure of moon.

As lovely the delay in the course of time feels when we are in love, as indispensable it seems when we are in a tough situation. From the panic over little things such as exams, where one or the other student is definitely seen asking the invigilator for 5 more mins, to actual life and death situations. Who wouldn’t want to spend some more time with an ailing family member whom we know for sure is departing the world very soon.

In a way, all of us are living in haste. Completing all the trivial tasks as soon as possible, so that when we find something that actually feels worth living for, we can dedicate all of our time to it. The futile hope of stretching time beyond its limit just to remain in the moment for some more time might be silly but those moments are what define us. The tasks we complete in haste are mostly same for everyone but what we want to live through longer, what we experience during that time makes us different and surely is very delightful.

Posted on by Anamika

For the materialistic love of a “bed”

It was a very ordinary bed I swear. Pic credit: Creazilla

Have you ever been emotionally attached to a pen, a watch, a car, or just a handkerchief? If you are a human being I’m assuming, yes. Degree of attachment may differ from person to person but it’s nearly impossible for me to believe that there is a person in this world who has never been attached to his/her wordly possessions.

I started thinking about this after we bought a new double bed replacing the old one that was on the verge of breaking anytime. When I asked my mother how many years has the older bed been with us , she said, ” it’s as old as your brother”. You see, there, from that one phrase you can decipher the value of that bed. It is associated with the age of a human, the only son of a family. So this bed which has already celebrated its silver jubilee at our home is saying a goodbye now.

In these 25 years things have drastically changed in our lives and this is the thing with these non- living items; they don’t change but they witness change. There was a time when me, my elder brother and sister, and my mother used to sleep on the same bed. Time flew by, we grew, but the bed remained the same, and we kept growing till the bed could accommodate just me and my sister. That bed has changed houses with us after we came to the city. It was one of the few items we had when we shifted to our own home. I remember when me and my brother hid under the bed and as soon as my sister walked in the room my brother suddenly held her leg, scaring her out of her wits. As a kid, laying down under the bed is such a comfortable thing to do. The new one doesn’t have space for anyone to hide, since it has storage boxes. The manufacturers know that with increasing income, space decreases.

I wonder if I would’ve felt all the emotions I am feeling right now if I was still a kid. As we grow older, the sheer happiness and excitement of anything new is replaced by lamentation and reminiscence over the old. The amount of memories with that motion, as well as emotion less piece of wood are immeasurable. All three of us siblings have studied on that bed leaving the study table to eat dust in one corner of the room. A bed is anyways a very dear item as it is associated with rest. The sleep you get at your home in your bed, even the super comfy Five Star hotel beds fail to deliver that. My mother used to call it our ‘nest’.

All of this sounds extremely futile right? Why be sentimental over a damn bed and write paragraphs about it? Every religion, every philosophy of life asks us to not get attached to anything in this world, not even human beings, not even the ones we have blood relation with. The world itself, which includes everything biotic or abiotic is called ‘materialistic’. The reason behind this is to make your departure from this world easier. But if there is one thing that makes us human more than anything else, it’s being helpless with regards to certain things. Nostalgia, is an emotion, in my opinion, reserved only for us. Or maybe animals too feel nostalgic, they just fail to express it.

Surely there is a difference between a moment of attachment and obsession. Attachments might get you in trouble in afterlife but obsession hurts you in this very own life. Now, I have no idea how to end this blog, all I can say is that as long as we live we will get attached to objects or people around us, might even obsess over certain things because more than a sin or stupidity, it is frail humanity.