This post has been in the making for over 7 weeks , usually I would post something every 2-3 weeks or so however some dots must be connected, some questions must be answered before i put them to ink . I knew the months of April and May would inevitably be difficult , as they have too many dates imprinted on my memory . I have a strange issue with dates , events and conversations, some etch so hard on memories and some just disappear like magic ink. April- May have some of such dates and events .Beginning of April , I took some time off to be in Singapore and then headed to "Janambhoomi"" Delhi. This entire period of 6 weeks till an hour back, have been an internal trial , a case of self persecution , judging whether the 27 years of adulthood have been worth it . Since I was the prosecutor , the accused , the judge and more importantly the witness, the only eye witness , to this journey. Who-else, other than me can write about it . My memory takes me back to back lanes of ND Block Pitam Pura , the date was April 13th 1988 at about 1145 am . In this upcoming middle class suburb of Delhi in those days, between my school and the bus stand there was a walk of about a kilometre. On that day , I finished my chemistry practical exam a little earlier than others and was the first one to step out of school. I knew life outside the boundary wall of school was the true bitter reality. I was a few months short of turning 18 . Of late , I have met a few of my old friends , who knew me from that time and like we all do , subconsciously matched their journey with mine . Today I look back at last 27 years of adulthood and try to jot down what made my journey different from others. Good or Bad, Successful or Unsuccessful, happy or unhappy are all judgements that I leave to the world . These judgements really don't matter much. We are all unique , with our convictions, values and respective destinies. The choices I made, helped me survive last 27 years and will possibly help me sail through whatever is left of the journey ahead of me . I am sure it won't be another 27 years (much lesser I am sure ) however the basic traits will stay .
Iqbal wrote two amazing pieces of poetry, they are called . Shikwa (Grievance) and second , Jawaab e Shikwa , which is answer to grievances. In first part , he questions God , In second part, He answers by himself .
Shikwa (The Grievance) : In these seven weeks, few questions kept playing at the back of my mind " 27 years , what for ? Was it worth it ?
- Is producing and Consuming money, the only purpose of life ?
- The " I"" is of so much of importance now , egos are shouting "I am the best, I am the best"
- Why do we all pretend, lie and hide ?
All trips to Delhi are as nostalgic as Yash Chopra's Kabhi Kabhi and Lamhe . They are about a glorious past and a tasteless present . I met an old friend couple from school on my last day , my last meeting before I headed home. As expected, the meeting was deeply heartwarming and touching. I took an Ola from Gurgaon to North Delhi and on way back to airport, booked another Ola . Although I had good five hours before the flight, I decided to head early and park myself in the Lounge . I have this bad habit of reaching too early to airports . I got into the cab, the cab driver was a young chap may be in his late 20s, Very quiet, we just exchanged conversations on what route we need to take and which terminal, post which I inserted the earphones in my ears , listening to ghazals , looking out of window and assimilating how much the city had changed . The visuals were toggling between past and present . I dozed off . Half an hour later, we were at the aerocity underpass, I woke up from my power nap and a few seconds later, the taxi cab was stopped by the traffic cops . The driver was visibly upset . The cop came and asked for the registration papers and licence . I asked the cop " Kya baat hai bhai ", the constable's name tag was Kuldeep Dahiya Kind of name . He said the taxi was at cruising at 81 in a 50 Km zone . The driver said , I don't have licence or papers , they got stolen two nights back . I was taken aback a bit, seemed like a false answer . The constable asked him to step out . I also stepped out to get some fresh air, assuming this will take an exchange of some currency notes and the matter will be settled . While I was on the left of the car , on the roadside, The constable escorted the driver to his Senior and the senior refused to believe the driver's version . At this stage , intuitively, I decided to jump into the conversation. I asked the driver " Sach Bata, What is the real story on Licence and Papers"". This time, almost hopelessly, he reiterated, he had given his car to his cousin to drive during the day and someone nicked the papers , while he was dozing off . At this stage the cops were determined to seize the car and asked the other cops to hail another cab so that I can be dropped. I made one more attempt in resolving the issue. I took the driver aside and asked him the same question to conclude . he said "" Sir, my abba (father) passed away three days back, the car is on private finance , I pay 10000 rs a week for this car and I earn 2000 a day. To ensure i don't default, while I went home for my father's funeral, my cousin , who lives with me, drove the taxi and lost papers. I am not even sure if cops have papers or he really lost it"". By this time, this man was in tears . I walked back to the Senior Cop, read his nameTag and addressed him "" Chaliye Sharma jee , thoda tehal ke aaye"" (Mr Sharma , lets walk a bit and talk). I explained the same situation to Mr Sharma, respectfully. I requested him to let the driver go with a fine of driving without licence , which I will pay. Mr Sharma turned out to be an even better human being, I offered him that he should do a verification on car and Driver , in case he is a repeat offender , By this time, we exchanged other social pleasantries , like home town , job etc etc. Mr Sharma called someone on mobile and checked on Car's plate and licence number (through the photocopy of licence) . In 5 mins , the driver was let off with a fine of 300 Rs , which I paid. We were issued a receipt. No Bribes . While leaving Mr Sharma made a comment to driver " dekh aaj ke zamaane mein bhee aise log milte hain" . I took no cognisance, brushing this off as flattery .
When we stepped back in the car, the driver started howling like a child , explaining how he had been driving non stop for 48 hours to save money as he needs to head back home soon for another ritual after his father burial . The airport was hardly a few minute drive. When i alighted, I asked the driver about the fare, he refused, he said , you saved my cab from being confiscated , that's enough. I insisted and paid full fare with tip. At this stage , I must say , This is not an attempt to self glorify or self justify or to even being self critical but just to collate the deeper thoughts. The driver was still in tears , it is hard to see a young man in tears , hope must never be killed . I hugged him, stepped inside the airport , thinking he must have made up a cock and bull story .
While in the airport lounge I looked back again at the same questions, no answers yet . I decided to jot down how I made choices to continue to find answers, In the lounge, with Kingfisher ultra, I almost forgot the cab incident .
In the meanwhile, Self Introspection on 27 years continued : I realised , I chose to be middle aged in my teens. From my teenage days , I used to think a lot about everything. Our family had the usual middle class aspirations . There is a huge discussion these days in media on how stereotypical our approach is towards women , easily forgetting our approach is stereotypical to both the daughters and sons . Not in all cases , sons are pampered. In my case, I realised very early in life that I needed to be a strong pillar and breadwinner even sooner . Being a Pillar was a wilful choice and a natural one too. Even now , I always keep finding deeper meaning in my relationships, simple interactions with strangers, and in the world around me. I have always enjoyed solitude and use it as a time to reflect on my life and everything going on in it. At the same time, continually seek out higher understanding while being annoyingly introspective about life. I've always thought beyond my age perhaps was born middle aged. When I was a child and people commented on how mature I was, I relished it. I probably enjoyed sitting at the adult’s table as opposed to the children’s table. It’s not that I couldn't have fun being a kid, it’s just that sometimes I was pulled towards those conversations and gave me a glimpse of ground realities of life .The memories of teen age have no recollection of being rash, arrogant and carefree. I don't envy s people who had a typical teenage .
I chose shelter in Ghazals : In 1988, the year I finished schooling , a serendipitous event happened . Doordarshan started to air a TV series on Mirza Ghalib . The series was produced by Gulzar, ghazals sung by Jagjit Singh and Naseeruddin Shah played Mirza Ghalib. Actor Vivek Vaswani was asked before his death about the biggest regret in life. He said , he should have died after acting in " Jaane bhee do Yaaron" as he had reached a pinnacle that day . I don't watch TV or TV series at all. I saw the pinnacle of TV at the age of 18. Ghazals, Contrary to general perception are not always about love and romance. In-fact most times they are not about Love and Romance, Poetic expressions are the most concise expression of philosophical experiences . Urdu and Hindi Poetry have a deep , often misunderstood commentary on life , relationship and pain. I chose to be a Nomad: I have lived in 11 houses 4 cities in last 27 years , changes cities and neighbourhoods often . There is nothing I owned 27 years back, that i still have . Things are things , People are more important . I don’t put a lot of value on owning expensive, material items. I find I get so much more out of my personal relationships and experiences than from anything I could ever own.
I choose to trust......almost blindly : I tend to rely on my gut instinct about things and people knowing fully I am rarely right . I just get “a feeling” about things and can’t read people well. . I recognise i think differently about money, possessions, relationships, etc, and then there’s the conventional approach to life most people have. I don't believe either one is better, just different.. .
Now Jawaab e Shikwa: (The answer to grievances )
While all this intellectual and emotional jingling was continuing in my head, I received a text message on my phone a few days later. It was from the same Ola driver , he thanked me profusely . I took no cognisance again. He then added me in his whats-app and sent me the image of his licence and car papers . They had been released by another set of cops who had confiscated them from his cousin . To stop the flow of texts , I called him and the driver responded " Sir, every Friday, I pray for you. I hope I have not breached your trust .....
His honesty and subtle blessings touched me , I was wrong in judging .... .
Some answers to "Shikwa"" came to me naturally ....in last few days .....
Is producing and Consuming money only purpose of life ?
Nope, The purpose of life is the continuous happiness of your loved ones, to bring ease of life, smiles and happiness to ones you love and ones who live around you , friends or strangers . If I bring happiness to even one soul, it is worth it . Love is always indefatigable and imperishable . Selfless love is the only glue of this senseless world . If you made people happier in journey of life, worth it. If you made just yourself happy, then it is possibly the worst form of existence.
तेरी ख़ुशी से अगर गम में भी ख़ुशी न हुई , तो वो ज़िन्दगी तो मुहब्बत की ज़िन्दगी न हुई !
The " I"" is of so much of importance now , egos are shouting "I am the best, I am the best"
There is a Urdu word called Bekhudi (बेखुदी ). The word is description enough of the answer. It means devoid of oneself . The one who finds bliss is always in " bekhudi". Bismillah Khan doesn't play Shehnai for himself, Nida Fazli doesn't write poetry from himself , Lata Mangeshkar doesn't sing for herself, MS Dhoni doesn't fire a winning sixer for himself , A doctor doesn't save lives for himself, ISRO scientists don't execute a shuttle for mars for their entertainment, a soldier doesn't die for himself and above all a Mother is possible the most selfless person on this earth . Find a Purpose of "Bekhudi" and happiness will be an accompanist .
Why do some people pretend, lie and hide ?
Facing your conscience is the best daily bravado. I have very few people in my life who I categorise as my foes, the common trait in them was that they were all my loved ones at some stage in life , they all pretended to be someone they truly were not , they lied relentlessly to suit their convenience and above all were hiding from their own conscience. Trust is like being pregnant, you can't be half way there . People lie to themselves so much, that they start to believe in those lies more than the truth. Unambiguity must be the mark of people you trust .....If you conscience is clear , you look yourself in mirror and say, whoever I loved, I did that selflessly . Whatever I did wrong, I have tried to seek forgiveness and whoever hurt me , I have tried to forgive. .I have a reasonable of empathy and acceptance towards others and understand the importance of forgiveness. Because of this people know I will eventually forgive most people .. All this said, I have treasured my foes, even more than my friends , because at some stage , I truly loved them . wherever they are in this world, I hope that my foes live till they face their karma redemption, sooner or later.
शख्स से शख्सियत बनने का सफ़र है ज़िन्दगी……………Keep Walking, I hope in next 27 years or whatever is left of it, I can look back and recollect some people that I positively impacted .
Today's ghazal is an epic , an all time healer ....
हर घड़ी ख़ुद से उलझना है मुक़द्दर मेरा, मैं ही कश्ती हूँ.…… मुझी में है समंदर मेरा
एक से हो गए मौसम हो के चेहरे सारे, मेरी आँखों से कहीं खो गया.… मंज़र मेरा
किससे पूछूँ कि कहाँ गुम हूँ कई बरसों से, हर जगह ढूँढता फिरता है मुझे घर मेरा
मुद्दतें बीत गईं ख़्वाब सुहाना देखे , जागता रहता है हर नींद में बिस्तर मेरा
आईना देखके निकला था मैं घर से बाहर , आज तक हाथ में महफ़ूज़ है पत्थर मेरा
एक से हो गए मौसम हो के चेहरे सारे, मेरी आँखों से कहीं खो गया.… मंज़र मेरा
किससे पूछूँ कि कहाँ गुम हूँ कई बरसों से, हर जगह ढूँढता फिरता है मुझे घर मेरा
मुद्दतें बीत गईं ख़्वाब सुहाना देखे , जागता रहता है हर नींद में बिस्तर मेरा
आईना देखके निकला था मैं घर से बाहर , आज तक हाथ में महफ़ूज़ है पत्थर मेरा
मुड़ के देखूं तो कहीं दूर तलक कोई नहीं , कोई पीछा किये जाता है बराबर मेरा
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