I often crave for Delhi, relationships are not just amongst people , they are with memories , places , words, images and conversations too. Travelling is often an attempt to reignite the dopamine rush with these relationships . I crave for that dopamine trigger and sometimes the trigger works negatively, The trip on Friday March 20th did the same . I have been even more socially inert since the events of last year . The taxi driver , asked me a simple yet a very complex question, Where are you from , I said , I was born here , he swiftly asked , why stay in a hotel "aapka koi apna nahin hai ab yahan " ? I had no answer . I drifted the topic, asked him when he had come to Delhi , he replied Summer of 88 . The mathematical cells in my left brain reminded me that soon it would be 25 years to April 13th 1988, the day I started my journey with a bicycle and a 1200 Rs a month Job . "The summers here are harsh" he quickly commented and with willful denial I replied, I live in Bangalore and weather is always nice there . Ignorance and Denial are cousins, so complimentary to each other . The taxi driver Shiv Kumar Pandey from jaunpur had graduated from a being a rickshaw puller to a Taxi Driver, Delhi belonged to him , I am still a Nomad . 25 years of walking has lead me to road devoid of a destination . I remembered a sher I had read a few days ago
The tryst with Delhi reached its peak , the moment I checked in. This Hotel wasn't there 5 years ago, it overlooks a junction of road I used to often pass . I laid my hands on the glass wall and the city below reminded of all the moments, conversations and images. The taxi driver was right , I have no one here . I started asking myself , how have I managed to become an equal opportunity offender , what did I set out to do . I just needed a little bit of money , my "Jaanajee" , lots of kids , friends , neighbor . I was an ideal candidate to become a "property dealer" like Mr. Khurana with a Gold chain piping a dog leash, a Tag Heuer and a BMW. May be I should have also dreamt like an ordinary delhite and thought of the usual, married "Malik uncle's daughter" or Arora Auntie's niece, who would have been happy discussing Polka dots, South ex shopping and the new car or I should have settled for a Shop in a Mall, two kids , daily discussions about money and women over pounds of whiskey . What made me an outsider to delhi ? My love of Ghazals, my quest for intellectual & spiritual depth or just my stars. Ahmed Faraz was playing on my laptop in the background ....
तुम्हारे शहर का मौसम बड़ा सुहाना लगे , मैं एक शाम चुरा लूं अगर बुरा ना लगे ,
before the ghazal reached its next verse, I knew what exactly made me the Nomad ... ;
जो डूबना है तो इतने सुकून से डुबो , के आस पास की लहरों को भी पता ना चलें .....
कुछ इस अदा से मेरे साथ बेवफाई कर , के तेरे बाद मुझे कोई बेवफा ना लगे .....
and I added
तुम आँख घूँट के पी जाओ ज़िन्दगी के सारे गम , के एक घूँट में शायद यह बदमज़ा ना लगे
The next 2 days revealed what I subconsciously knew all my life, Delhi has pornographic display of wealth , ego and power. Women still dress to distract and Men still thrive on bloated egos . Material success is still the only success criteria . Having kicked myself of the time planning, I was kicking myself for have planned to stay for 2 days , I decided to head to the airport much earlier than scheduled , I was the first one to check In and the whatsapp conversations at the airport was making me even more sick. I just wanted to run away . Relishing my beloved Dal Makhni at the lounge , I asked the God again, why does this happen to me , time and again that I am trashed to ground after being lifted to the pinnacle of love . The answers were to come in the next few hours . Divinity plays itself in million ways .
The seat next to me was empty , all I wanted was to finish Gulzar's short stories, gulp a beer and get ready for China. It changed , the lady in the next row, whose mobile conversations distracted me earlier as well, realized she was supposed to sit in the window seat next to me. Initially I took no notice and passed her off as a filmfare reading "distractive delhite" who was unwillingly travelling economy class but could very well relish business class. I usually avoid conversations while travelling unless it is between two cities in US. There is another fact , In India, all men are considered perverts unless proved otherwise. It started to rain outside and I hoped the flight takes off sooner, the plane started to taxi and I wondered what's taking so long to take off. Perceptions can induce criminal guilt, this is what I discovered in my conversations with her till we reached Hong Kong. She had a gifted combination of uncluttered intellect , undeterred conviction and captivating expressions, More like Mahie Gill's expressions, combed with Kiran Bedi's conviction and Sobha De's depth. In the next four hours, she took strides in all conversations, cut through my sarcasm and pessimism like warm knife through butter. She steered all difficult conversations to comprehendible conclusions, we discussed highly guarded yet meaningless secrets, the personas were being discovered at a crazy pace. The unraveled secrets met with no judgment, no prejudice and the discussion were demolishing shadows of my ego in an unprecedented manner. This too with no expectations, both of us had a meaningless week and a predictable life ahead yet managed to leave an indelible mark on the day .
I just couldn't say one thing ...Take a Bow Lady !!!
She found her transfer gate, I saw her cruising up the escalator and said two things to myself . One, being Hopeless is like being giving up on God, you never know what he has in store for you. Never question God , he may answer in four hours flat.
A ghazal dedicated to night of 23rd March....a rare live recording of a Ghazal which has been my favourite for 25 years ....dedicated to the Diva.
तेरी आँखों में हमने क्या देखा, कभी कातिल कभी खुदा देखा
दिल के दीवारों दर पे क्या देखा, बस तेरा नाम ही लिखा देखा
अपनी सूरत लगी परायी सी, जब कभी हमने आइना देखा
हाय अंदाज़ तेरे रुकने का, वक़्त को भी रुका रुका देखा
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