Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Yaadein

Tere jane ke baad teri bohot yaad aayi
Aankh band kiya to tu samne khadi thi
Nazron mein tu hi tu samayi thi
Seene mein jahan dil hai, wahan teri parchayi thi
Palke uthayi, toh tera koee pata na tha
Magar gird mein ek bheeni si khushbu chaayi thi
Dhoond raha tha mai magar, tujhe phir bhi shaam-o-saher
Gul mein, Galiyon mein, abadiyon mein jahan hum ne shaame bitayi thi
Phir shaam bhar baitha raha akele uss teele par
Jidhar hum ne saath-saath jeene marne ki kasme khayi thi
Phir yaad aaya woh vaqiya judayi ka
Jis din tum ne choda haath mera
aur maine khayi mein chalang lagayi thi

Thursday, September 17, 2015

And it’s gone!


Dil ki choton ne kabhi chein se rehne na diya

Jab chali sard hava mei ne tujhe yaad kiya

 

Excuse no: 1 - FEAR

It has become customary in our house that every night after we say our prayers in the master bedroom, my wife and lads leave to the kid’s room. There my wife reads a story to the boys, and as soon as the story telling session is done, my lads run down back to the master bedroom and fling themselves on to the bed, over me like freestyle wrestlers, pin me down and fight each other to smother me with good night kisses and wish me sweet dreams.

Usually during the gap time, when the story telling is happening in the adjacent room, I am engaged with my iPhone, doing one of the many things,  which are; crushing candies, putting words on scrabble, making raunchy dubsmashes, clicking my semi-nude selfies, watching Bhojpuri Bhabhi videos or typing crap on whatsapp! Yesterday night, I decided to do something new.

During the earlier weekend, I had bought myself a new beard trimmer, and I thought this was the best time to try it, and so I headed to the bathroom with it.

Few moments later, as I was working with my beard, I heard my lads run into the master bedroom and throw themselves on to the bed, laugh loudly at not finding me and then leave trying to figure my whereabouts. My younger lad Yo though was a little bit more inquisitive. He decided to peep into the bathroom, and in his inimitable style, he kicked open the door. He stood there stunned, all agape, with his eyes as big as mine are when I watch those junglee padosan videos on YouTube’s Bhojpuri channel, and mouth as big as he usually makes it when he sees his favorite Tuna Sandwich coming his way.

For some time, under the backdrop of utter silence that was punctuated with  a little creak from the door, droplets of water trickling down the tap and a faint fart that I ejected, we both stood there staring into each other; I into his mouth and he on to my chin. There was a sparkle in his eyes, dimmed by a tear perhaps, which seemed to pose these two questions: What have you done to yourself? Why have you done this?

I took a step closer to him, put down the toilet set and sat down on the closet leveraging my left hand on his right shoulder. He took two baby steps closer to me without breaking his line of sight from my chin, and I told him the reason in a heavy hush voice.

“Look son, I know you loved my beard. I loved it too, but I could not take any chances. Next week it is bakri eid, and I had to play safe” 

 

Excuse no: 2 - FREEDOM

Long long back ago, when people used to live predominantly in the villages, and footwear was a luxury item, a wise old man once said that “if you want to find out where all a person has travelled just look under his feet” and that was true, and still holds true in many cases. On the similar lines, I’d say, that if you wanted to find out what all a man’s lips have tasted, all you need to do is check out his beard.  

Come closer and just sniff the beard, and you could make out what toothpaste was used for brushing his tooth, if he had coffee or tea in the morning, and if the sandwich that he had from Kauser Cafeteria was cheesy or spicy or both.

If you do not believe me yet, let me suggest you this test. Go to Old Delhi or Lucknow or Allahabad or any other such city in UP, and catch hold of any stray mullah walking around in the street. Chop off a part of his beard and smell it. I bet it would emanate the scent of the betel leaf masala that he regularly chews, so much that you could conclude if the mix was Banarasi or Kalkatti or whatever.

If you are an experienced paanwallah, I am sure you could just smell the beard and make out the recipe of the paan with the exact measure of each condiment of this customer’s liking. I have read somewhere, in some imaginary ancient book, that this is what exactly some of the connoisseurs in pan chewing actually do. They just go to the kiosk of their favorite paanwallah and stand there pointing their bear tips to his nose, and the paanwallah extracts all the info required. And in some extreme cases, if a person has the nose of a dog, this scent could also take him to the kiosk of the paanwallah from where this beard owner had his last chew.

Now, this is just about a betel leaf, this same thing is applicable to beer, cigarettes, hookahs and any other unmentionable thing or location where a man loves to put his lips and tongue.

I agree that it is difficult for a woman to find out if the beer or hookah was had at a pub or a friends place, and if the friend was a male or a female, but you cannot cheat a woman when it comes to the scent of a woman. I hope you understand what I mean.  

So the question, should a man risk revealing all his secrets just because of this beard that looks good on him? Or, should he not just leave his chin clean shaven and live a carefree life above all suspicion?  

This man chose the latter.

 

Excuse no: 3- FILTH


After reading this article, I decided to shave off my beard.

 

The truth: MISTAKE!

As each of the above three header reads, they are nothing but excuses, just simple excuses. The real reason why I shaved off my beard is that I shaved it off by mistake. Yes, by mistake. I used the wrong number for blade adjustment and the wrong side of my new trimmer and so inadvertently shaved off my goatee, leaving a shaved patch at center of my jaw, and then I had to take this extreme step of cleaning it off.

I really feel so naked and unprotected without it.

Stroking the beard was my favorite accompanying activity during pondering and now I feel totally at loss of thoughts.

Huh! All I can do is wait for it to grow back.

So, while I am waiting, let me use this time well. Let me call the cafeteria to pack me a take away of my secret cheesy spicy sandwich that I can have on my drive to home. I can always mask its scent by chewing a sorbitol gum.  
Or, better still, should I call my friends up for a session of beer, some tequila shots perhaps followed by some hookah and Sex on the BeachAnybody coming?

Monday, August 24, 2015

Sarhadey

Pahadon pe sarhadey kheech di aise
Jaise bacche aangan mein gharonda khel rahe ho
Aur shehron ke saath viraasat bhi baant di aise
Jaise bacche uss khayali ghar ke, kamrey baant lete ho
Yeh lo mera hua khwab-gaah aur mujhe mila Meer, Dard aur Ghalib
Yeh lo tumhara hua Majlis aur tumhe le lo Faiz, Josh aur Iqbal
Yunh khud ka kar diya hum ne batwara lakeerey laand ke
Aur phir pee liya zehar gaaddha itna, ki abb tak halak se utra nahin
Yeh kya kam tha ke phir dil mein nishtaron se daairey khured diye
Ke pair zameen par rakkho aur haat khoon se rang jaate hai
Aur inn ka kya karey jin pe koee kaboo nahin, yeh havayein, yeh baadal, yeh chand aur sitarey.
Chalo inn ka bhi kar le batwara, inn par bhi kheech le sarhadey, tabhi toh koee baat baney

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Brothers – Movie Reivew


Yesterday evening I went for a Bollywood movie, but unlike how I usually do, this time I did not proclaim it through an FB status message. Maybe, because this time I was supposed to write something more about the movie, a review perhaps?

The promos told me that this was a movie about mixed martial arts, vengeance and estranged brothers fighting to win prize money. However, as I found out, it was not so.

The movie I watched was, the Akshay starrer ‘Brothers’. No, you cannot call it just an Akshay starrer; there are lots more to this movie than just Akshay. Although, he played the role of elder bro ‘David’ and rocked as usual, Siddharth Malhotra playing the younger bro ‘Monty’, who is shown entering into the fighting cage to grab his respect and make name for himself, rocked harder.

It is a men's movie, and both brothers are shown struggling with a mixed array of emotions ranging from anger to sadness to despair to vengeance and that is evident from the first shot you see of them. A mix of emotions, that reminds you of the lead character in Agneepath, although not to that extent, but somewhere around there and no doubt, enough to remind you that the director is the same guy, Karan Malhotra. The only time you see them happy and playful is when they are shown as kids. 
If the lads managed to set the screen afire with their anger and brute force, there is our good old Jackie Shroff who plays the role of their father, a strongman whom time has broken down and someone who manages to leave the screen moist and melancholy with his sadness and guilt. Then there is Pasha, played by Ashutosh Rana, who brings in the much need romance into the fighting cage with his couplets and poetic one-liners.

Albeit there are a few women in the movie, but they do not really grab your attention that much. Kareena comes in for an item number, throws a few thumkas and jhatkas, but does not manage to even give you a goose bump. Jacqueline plays the role of ‘Jenny’, that is, David’s wife and unlike the item girl; she does manage to get a few scenes to her credit. Somewhere midway the movie, there is a long flashback scene where Karan shows us how David and Jenny fell in love. It is boring. This is the time you guys must target to go for your middle-of-the-movie washroom visit. Then, there is a cute six year old girl who plays the role of David’s daughter and who herself is a fighting a war of sorts, and the main reason why he is forced to get back into street fighting.

Someone told me that this was the remake of a Hollywood movie named ‘Warrior’, but I knew that this would not be just another copy as it is, it would have its own Indian masala and Bollywood flavoring in it. My guess was right. This movie too had its own cliché bollywoody moments:

  1. Men from Mumbai’s coastline are strong, they love violent sports/activities, they have a bad temperament, they drink, and they cheat, they make babies outside the home, they destroy their families and drown themselves into a cesspool of guilt.

  2. A younger brother, however strong he is, he cannot beat his elder bro. He could use the vengeance he has towards his elder bro and channelize it to beat the pulp out of guys much stronger than his brother, but he never will be able to beat his elder bro.

  3. Cute girls dig serious angry young men.

  4. Mothers are strong people. Irrespective of all odds, they tie the whole family with an invisible chord and keep them bundled as one, and when the leave, they leave the whole world in total disarray, and all relationships fall apart.

  5. No Indian man would ever enter a cage and fight his brother merely for money. Either he should have a genuine want, like money to treat someone ailing in the family or he should be a real villain, a real bad man.
    Now, Monty is not a bad man, and so he had to have a reason that is stronger than you can imagine, having this extent of vengeance for this elder brother. If you were a Bollywood movie freak, you would get the inkling well as the movie proceeds, and that is where Shefali Shah comes in. She plays the role of their mother, and what a wonderful job she has done at it.

So, unlike what the promos tell you, this movie is not about mixed martial arts, vengeance or estranged brothers fighting to win prize money. This is about a mother and her two sons. This is about family. This is about sticking together even when everything seems falling apart. This is about how callous men can be. This is about making mistakes, mistakes that are fatal. This is about making amendments for those mistakes. This is about forgiving and being forgiven for those mistakes. This is about reclaiming your family. This is about wiping your tears from the past and smiling at the future with moisty eyes.

Watch it, because, never ever has it happened that you have been moved to tears watching two men fight in a cage in a professional event.

Watch it, because as the punches are thrown and as you hear the bones crack you will feel an adrenalin rush but eventually when the hearts meet, your tears will flow, and you will start melting from the inside.




Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Chahe manzil ho jaaye paar

Mahino, din bhar teri tasveer ko dekhte rahe
Tu itna badal gaya kaise, pooch te rahe
Jawab kuch mila nahin, raha buss yeh gila
Kahan muskurahat gayi teri, kaise tujhe yeh gham mila
Woh taqat, woh dilayri jiss ki tareef karte they log
Kaise bikhar gaya, kaise toot gaya abb pooch te hai log
Na toot sakta hai tu, na mera tehseen tere liye
Yeh ilm tujhe rakhna hoga mere na toot ne ke liye
Zindagi lambi nahi, yeh soch ke tu chal
Jo aaj bikhar gaya usey samet ne ko nahin koee kal
Kya hua jo aaj makan tera hai jala bujha hua
Jo aag tere seene mein hai usey na hone de dhuan
Yeh udas, yeh thaki hui teri aankhe sudhar le
Ja uss kafir ki baddua se iss mein bijli sawar le
Ek aag, ek vehshat apne andar tu paal
Ke laut aaye woh shaan aur rutbe wali teri chal
Ke abb thhan le, kabhi bhi na manenga tu haar
Na kabhi rukega tu rah mein, chahe miley mushkiley hazaar
Chahe manzil ho jaaye paar
Chahe manzil ho jaaye paar

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

That mad house called workplace!

mere rashk-e-qamar tune pehli nazar
jab nazar se milayi maza aa gaya

You reach your office well in time, and just as you park your car, this wonderful Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan qawwali starts playing on your car stereo. The couplets ring a chord in your heart, you decide to wait until this one is over, and as you do, you slowly melt in his mesmerizing music oblivious of the pangs of your work life. As it is always, this singing Buddha takes his own time, yodeling, chanting throwing you into a psychedelic spell from where you just don’t want to return.

But alas, like all good things, this one also has to end. It ends, and you are forced to shut down the engine and alight.

At the office entrance, as you swipe your attendance card, you realize that you are late to work, again! The watchman looks at you, nods his head in dismay, and leaves a sorry sigh. You smile back at him and walk away.

You climb the stairs and lazily walk down to your desk, and as you do, you are confronted with the sights of a typical middle of the week workplace.  People dressed in crisp formal wear. People scurrying around, running helter-skelter with sheaves of freshly printed paper in their hands, taking and giving orders. Not everyone is tense; some are content too, having breakfast at their desks, chatting on their mobile phones, ogling at pictures of their friend’s spouses on Facebook, leaving the loo after a satisfying dump.

Happy faces do posit a smile on your face, but alas, the sight at the end of the corridor vanishes it off. At the end of the corridor, right next to your cubicle, you see your boss standing with a grumpy smile on his face. Upset at your late coming, he throws a straight simple question “Have you sent me that file?” in a stern voice. You immediately transform from this smart office worker into this lost kid with innocent face and ask back “W…Which file, Ssss… Sir?” 

His face turns red; his hands turn into fists and his feet moves front and back, as the body gets in position for a boxing match.  That move is enough to teleport your lost spirit back into your body, and you blurt out “Ah, that report that you asked for yesterday? I have done it. Just give me half an hour. I will email it to you” At this point, there is utter silence in the office; just like someone has pressed the pause button, and everyone is staring at you both, waiting for the next move.

Eventually, the boss speaks. “Okay, I will wait” he says with a look that’s two degrees more sterner than the previous one and leaves, leaving you with a slight shiver and almost wet pants, because only you know that there is no such file like that!

You crawl down to your desk and a smartass wishes you “Good Afternoon” at 7:45 in the morning. You dump your bag, slouch into your ergonomic German office chair, and switch on your computer, open YouTube, search for ‘maza aa gaya by nusrat fateh ali khan full’, put on your headphones, close your eyes, dissolve and teleport your soul to some dargah across the border. Bliss!

mae-kade pe barasne lagin mastian,
jab ghata ghir ke chayi maza aa gaya