Saturday, November 01, 2008

Violet Lips Lost


Cribbing about another hectic week ,amid global financial crisis wouldn't have got worse with domestic problems escalating thanks to my official woes. Ignoring the basic stuff which comprises my world is often the biggest halt in ones growth and Quite often or not we think.we are doing everything for it lest we forget to take care of it.


Its like buying few Eggs for hatching some Chicks and ultimately ending up opening a Poultry farm and forgetting about those few Chicks you wanted to breed. As one of my favourite trainers said in his invitational speech "Life is what comes to us when we plan for something else"


On this casual note I landed up on this weekend, fast and fragile like a desert storm trying to grab everything it can before hitting next village. Ultimately nothing comes in hand except the sand of dunes which also settles just few miles away.


Long back on such weekends I would pack leisurely unlike all uptown boys of Srinagar and head to Manasbal. It was as if a Martian would have got an Earth to rule upon. Automatically my superiority complex of being a city boy was a welcome gesture in village cricket team. It is another story that they were far better players than my next 7 generations could be. The Wildness of Autumn was about to set in and Leaves of chinar were falling down to announce the end of another blissful , romantic and vibrant summer in Kashmir.


As Bus would make a shrieking halt in the market of Safapore , I would leave no stone unturned to announce my arrival.Grabbing the first available moment soon after having hot salty SHEER Chai and Rice floor Chapati, I would head towards to the nearest cricket field overseeing the manasbal lake...Nice Curly Mountains on all side and "Wooder" A plateau formation of small hills ...


Next on one side I would see Sainik school boys rowing their boats in discipline,some fisherman as busy as they could be, sericulture department on other side,sometimes an occasional NCC camp where aromatic kitchen was my destined pleasure.
Between I scored another duck like most of the times but was most wanted to bowl spin anytime.


Now after all the tussle and bustle it was the time to take out the small but sharpest knives .. use best archery skills and stone throwing competition .. get as many walnuts as possible from the trees... Unripe and covered with ligament which when cut would leave a Violet marks on my hands and my lips. These Violet Lips were enough for me to be caught by any Gardner and yet being forgiven.

During those days of poise only shots I would hear from the Gun filled with some rotten powder which would blast through funnel of gun and produce loud bang. Loud enough to scare the crows and birds from wall nut tress.. But within few years this loud bang was enough to turn my violet lips dry and scare me away from those fields into the dusty plains of INDIA.

Alas ! Voilets grow every season but I lost my Voilet lips of walnut theft for ever



Not sure whether those trees have birds still but I lost my habitat and lost those violet lips. One life one dream to retain those Violet Lips once again.. be caught by Gardner once again...swim across the lake once again.. run through fields to infinity once again... score few runs if not hundred... get few inches closer to the depth of lake and pluck out some more lotus stem.

Monday, August 04, 2008

Aahatun seh nikla umar bar mai

Aahatun seh nikla umar bar mai
ek siski chut'teh.. is jahan seh mai
Koi Awaaz nahi ..ko shor nahi
bas ek siski joh mera wajood thi,

Kon duuntah hai awaaz ko
is ajyaabh ghar seh duniya mai
chand lafzun mai simattih hai
bas itni lambi zindagi ,

Woh joh jiyeh bhi nahi
unhe maut seh kya wastaa hai
Kuch paloon ki yadein
kuch lamhoon ka karvaan hai !!

Thursday, May 01, 2008

Fractured Links

Few days back I met a childhood friend of mine ..who had by now grown a long beard and has become a strong advocate of DARUL ISLAm or so called establishment of Islamic order in this world. I congratulated him for him being father of 4 kids in such a short span of time and at the same time was astonished to hear the sad demise of my dear Babi whom I couldnt meet in her life time. 

I felt sorry for her being pushed into motherhood 4 times in short span of 5 years which must have contributed to her death.. but I surivived not to ask that question to this friend of mine for whom will of Allah was supreme and so do I agree that none can get things done better than the will of almighty...

This common thought led us to a South Indian Udipi stall for cup of tea and soon we started rebuilding our old bridges ...Lost hopes started turning into dreams and dreams into mirage but ultimately the story of my Exile from my Motherland never became a reality even in this discussion... 

I better not have given him my mobile number suspecting his connections with extremist but somewhere I felt that I share a common bond of Kashmiriyat with him.. Even if he wants to do something wrong ..he wont do it me at least.. with this thought we wrapped the evening.... with a promise to meet along with the family... 

I was feeling like to ask him that please give me pictures of your kids.. for I felt so much love for those kids much more than I even have for my own nephews or neices...Anyway time moved on and I started the postmortem of this heavenly anecdote..

we had played football and cricket together.celeberated every moment whether Javed minadad hit six on last ball or shastri won a car in Sharjah cup. His maternals were famous butchers in downtown srinagar and had most of the customers as listed Hindus WHO is WHO in city.

I was definetly much ahead of those WHOs at that shop... Chopping and grinding ... cutting and swaying.. they did it all with dexterity and skill.Tuesdays they would be Off to mark a sentimental value for KPs. Any Festival they would be first to acknowledge it.. 

That was the only meat shop in INdia where I was Stamped Lamped by Goverenment authority. I am sure they never made a fictitious stamp to impresses local KP population who were very beurocratic and beleived in legal affairs more than they would beleive in their religion.

For them Delhi , Washington , Moscow and Islamabad where the only four places in world who would be deciding factor in 3rd world war. They predicted in 80s that Afghan war will consume Pakistan and America will regret support Mujahideen. Cold war in end and Russia wil break away. 

Alas they couldnt predict that in next few years they all will erased from the face of Valley and willbe tormenting as refugees in Jammu camps.

Coming back to my friend and his flaunting beard... I felt sometimes W G Grace in his attitude and sometimes Osama in making. As the topics changed ..so did the moods... I mentioned about other KMs friends of mine who are moderate and doing great everywhere else in world . He would negate their existence even because for him doing any thing not done by holy Prophet was KUFUR but I wanted to ask him why are you sipping South Indian Coffee with Dosa...Prophet never had it... Whya re you smoking Marlboro American made "Prophet never had"

Finally after much  discussion , I thought this guy will surely raise his kids as Osamas commanders and will ruin their life... finally as we were about to end our conversation .. he was asking me about the good schools in GGN and Delhi.. To my surprise he wanted to his kids to study in Delhi away from surcharged Religious extremist Environment of Kashmir.

I got the clue...and was laughing within myself .. he was doing the same what other aristrocratic bizaarrrreeee  Elelments and leaders of Kashmiri Muslims did... They made sure 50K youths die with Arms and startvation and their kids study MS / MBA / MBA in America. Who paid for it... Same people who funded guns for lesser mortals...

But I was contended at least 4 kids will come out the hell and live life in sane place in civilized world.