Monday 31 August 2015

Silently Shouting


I want to scream with all my might
with all my energy fight
and then not say a word..
empty all the spoken words,
say nothing at all..
like a silent yearning
like a little tug at the heart
like an old prayer which never went far
like a fallen star
you will remember me
in the moonless quiet night
without a word or sight..
walking on my toes
I will come again
and my screams will be louder
louder than anything you may have heard before
louder than the loudest volcano
louder than the loudest sound
but, it will not matter to you
I may cry or shout
but you will not hear me
I am forever mute to you!



Thursday 27 August 2015

Afternoon Meetings with RSS Pracharak


 We had a Participatory Sociology paper during our Master's program where we had to do a project, involving some fieldwork along with literature review. I had then read 'Religious Nationalism Confronts Secular State' (1993) by Mark Juergensmeyer, who examined this scenario on a global scale, apart from Peter van der Veer's Religious Nationalism (1994) who looked at it in the Indian context. I decided to do a project on 'Religious Nationalism' and planned to interview RSS and Jamaat e Islami people and visit their offices to understand their ideologies better. It was my first year of Post Graduation and I was very excited about my first ever research project in life! 

I got Delhi RSS office's Jhandewalan number and called them. The person on the other end was courteous, I decided to change my name to Rashmi and told him I was a journalism student doing a project and would like to speak to somebody who can give details of RSS work. I assured myself, the lie was to minimize bias, and to get absolutely true views. He suggested the name of a senior guy and gave me an appointment for the afternoon next day. 

It was early winters. Thankfully, my family has always been very supportive of me and did not create any fuss about me, a Muslim girl visiting a Hindu fundamentalists' den! I had some butterflies in my stomach.  I informed, my project supervisor teacher and a couple of friends that if I do not come back by that evening, where they should look for the body! (It was just a couple of months before Gujarat riots broke out). 

As my auto-rickshaw dropped me at Jhandewalan, I asked a few passers by for directions to RSS office. And, everybody knew (except me!). Anyways, as I entered this huge courtyard and went up to the Reception office, it had a map of India - not the map we use, but the Akhand Bharat map with territories extending beyond the present borders. There were only men, not a single woman in sight (not even a cleaner/sweeper)!

I introduced myself with my false identity and told them about the appointment.  A man took me through the neatly lined rows of rooms to a room on the first floor. This man was in his fifties, grey hair, clean shaven and quite fit for his age. He asked me to sit, the room was small but clean. It had a bed, table, some chairs and an almirah for books (as far as I can remember!). The Akhand Bharat map  was pasted on his wall as well.  

 He asked me my name, my address, my family background, educational qualification (being from Hindu College, DU helped!) and my course details. I told him I was a Jamia Millia Islamia student. I was worried, that he might ask for some ID card, etc. but he was too polite to ask. He was a Maharashtrian, who spoke very fluent Hindi. He started with the glorious history of RSS and the social work that they do, the discipline they follow. The chai came. (what if there was something in the chai, I thought but still drank. It was good). Since, it was the first meeting I just touched upon the theme of Religious Nationalism and what he thought of it. He said, RSS opposed Partition which was based on religion but then why Akhand Bharat, why partiality to Nepal, a Hindu state, why oppose secularism, I asked. He tried to give a few reasons for it, the usual-secularism as Muslim appeasement, Haj subsidy, Bangladeshi influx, Uniform Civil Code, condition of Muslim women, polygamy, etc. My one hour was almost over and other visitors started coming in. The arguments that he was making with the (fudged) data, if I was not a Muslim or did not know better, I would have converted too (which he tried to do very convincingly).
He was very articulate probably the reason why they had sent me to him, a popular man for sure. I asked him for the next appointment, which I got after two days.  

 The next time, I was more confident, I went to the reception and told them his name. A man tried to help, but I told him I knew my way. His doors were open and there was another elderly man with whom he was having an animated discussion. He asked me to sit on the other chair and kept talking to the other man. In between he looked at me as he made his point and I nodded my head. The other man left soon afterwards. Then, he told me that he was his friend and Vice Chancellor of a University (cannot remember the name of central government university honestly!) and he often visited RSS office. I was shocked and wished if I had known earlier, I would have asked a few questions! 

I started with a question on Muslims. He went deep into the history about Muslim mis-rule and referred me to a map which showed all 'disputed sites' where he claimed Muslims had destroyed and made their mosques and will be reclaimed (not just Ayodhya, Mathura, Kashi). The excesses Muslim kings had committed. The way Muslim population is growing (which I had countered that depends on and differs according to classes amongst Muslims) but he just had so many numbers and so much data to counter back that it was futile to argue. He just kept giving me data from different sources (his sources!) In between came the chai and some biscuits,which I took unhesitatingly this time. 

 I got tired of his usual Muslim bashing so changed it to his personal life. He talked about his family, his parents were dead, siblings were not in touch, RSS was the only family now. He had done his Master's in Political Science (not surprising at all, as his grasp over laws/ governance was very good!) I asked him if he missed having a family. He said, RSS was his family, he lived a disciplined life of a soldier. He was a vegetarian (surprise, surprise!). I took his leave and asked for a final appointment. 
    
The final visit was again in his room. This time chai came early. I started with pleasantries and came straight to the topic of Muslims.' He told me, 'you are young, you do not know the real them as yet'. I wanted to shout, 'I am one myself', but kept my mouth shut. I tried to reason that I know enough Muslims being in Jamia that all his prejudices I can explain. He just needed to know them better. (Thankfully, by that time 'Love Jihad' was not in fashion or he would have warned me against it!)

By the third visit, despite his biased views I had begun to like him. He was no more the RSS wala but 'Ashutosh'* ji. As a person, he was soft spoken, educated, respectful towards women and as I liked to believe "misguided" by RSS's entire anti-Muslim propaganda. But, it would have been interesting to see if he remained as courteous and polite if I had told him my real name and identity.  

We already have seen and heard enough of RSS walas on Television debates that there was nothing 'new' that I found out. Maybe, they are all taught the same thing through their books and training at their shakhas and do not want to see the 'other' as human. Bigotry is difficult to practice when you know people personally. 'Humanizing' the fundamentalist did happen on a very personal level for me. 

Later, Gujarat Riots broke out and all those men brain washed with hatred killed, burnt, raped and abused Muslim men and women. It was very disappointing and disturbing. I spoke to my teacher at great length about the shallowness of these ideologies.     

  And, after that when I went to speak to Jamaat e Islami people, it was again the other end of the spectrum. There is no "humanizing" the 'other'. The 'other' is what defines 'them', this hatred will continue as its more a question for political survival for both, religion is just a tool.  

 (*name changed)
(Based on the fieldwork done many years back)


Monday 24 August 2015

Pottery School - Delhi Blue Pottery Trust


I was always fascinated by pottery, so I decided to finally learn it a few days back. A friend's friend had done a course from Delhi's famous pottery school situated at Delhi Blue Apartments near Safdarjung Hospital next to AIIMS Trauma Center.

 I spoke to them over the phone, it was a beginner's six months course and you could pay the fees in two installments. The moment I went to register I was taken in by the beautifully crafted things that were all over the place. I could hear Jagjit Singh ghazals in the background. Rajesh Srivastav, the instructor, talented ceramic artist himself, (from BHU) took the fees and gave the schedule (two days a week,three hour long class), along with a copy of book on Pottery, published by Delhi Blue Pottery Trust. He keeps a keen eye on everyone's wheels and answers/ explains patiently all the questions by the students often with a humorous quip!  

Once, I joined I was asked to make masks (as my joining co-incided with Mask making workshop) which meant working with the mud but no wheel, and giving it different facial shapes. By the time I made my third mask, it came out well, on which some improvements were done by Rajesh ji, with an interesting remark, "art is flawed, it should not be perfect." 

The next week started with understanding and knowing the craft of pottery. I was asked to "knead the dough" properly. Then came the wheel. The dough, finely rounded after kneading, goes on the wheel (electric wheel). It has to be centered on the wheel, setting the speed of the wheel is important while making peaks or plateaus of the mitti on the wheel. It is a beautiful process, where you keep adding water, and see how the touch of different fingers shapes it differently. Once learner finishes in the stipulated time of three hours, another ten minutes are dedicated to cleaning the wheel so that next learner can start on it, without the fuss of cleaning. 

 The afternoon tea is the time when everybody gathers together, chats, share stories or just plain gossip at times, mostly with Rajesh ji who is sometimes joined by the other instructor, Preeti ji.
   
The seniors who have been learning here, ranging from one to two plus years, are usually very helpful with tips (Three years is when you graduate out of the school). The students can buy their creations at nominal rates (based on the measurement in weight of the object). My class is an all-women class (ordinary men do not learn pottery it seems, delicate art modern men cannot handle the required patience for the craft!). But, those men who do come to learn turn out to be fast and better learners, according to Rajesh ji.

One has to carry an apron for the class, as whatever one wears gets soiled by the mud. I heard interesting stories on how girls come all nicely dressed but after a week, start coming in rough clothes. Even with an apron, clothes do get spoiled. But, nobody bothers about the clothes as sitting on the wheel can take you on a journey of another world, as mud through your fingers takes different and beautiful shapes. 

It is an extremely therapeutic craft in today's stressful lives. One understands how mitti can be a metaphor for our lives. On the circle (wheel) of life, if the center (basics/core) is not strong the shape will not come out well. The touch of different fingers (circumstances) changes the shape of vessel. But, it is only when it goes into the furnace that it becomes strong!

Tuesday 18 August 2015

Shehar


Jab bhi mayoos hue
ek meherban ma ki baahon ki tarah 
sambhala tha iss shehar ne mujhe
gudaz daman se
apne sab raste phela diye the
Jahan chaho chale jao
Apni manzil chun lo...

Ab Ma boodhi ho gayi hai
zimmedari zyada lagti hai
iski nayi imaaraten bhi khandhar lagti hain
aur iske khandharo se
sab bad-roohen aur jinn 
Is cement ke jungle ko chhod gaye hain 
Jinno ko logo ke paigham aane band ho gaye the
Na jaane log sayane ho gaye the ya Jinn
Suna hai unse veerani bardasht na hui!

Shehar ki sadko pe daudte bhagte bashinde
ankhon me bechaini basaye phirte hain  
yeh shehar ke pollution ka dhuaan hai
ya qatal hue armano ka! 

khwaishon ke jungle me
hamari bhi qismat aisi nikli
ke in rasto pe
dil ki vahshat kam na hui
aur paon ke nishan
chunte chunte 
peechha karte rahe
tumhari yaadon ka
un sookhe patto ka
jinko kabhi hara 
daali par laga dekha tha
jinse ose ki boondein 
amrit ki tarah hum ne pee thi
ab daali se gir kar 
be-jaan hawa me udte phirte hain
kuch hamari hi tarah 
awara se be-misraf* se!

Dariya ko ufaan* par dekhne
hum kitni duur tak gaye the
ab woh dariya utar gaya hai..
uska paani gadla hai
aur suna hai iss baar bada sakht sookha pada hai!
woh phalwala jiske aam khatte the
aur tumne sab ke sab
apne hath se mujhe khila diye the
ab chappal seeta mila tha
phalo ka mausam chala gaya hai..

Omlette wala to 
abhi tak intezar me hai
ke kab tum usko milne phir jaoge

usko pata nahi tumhari aadat ka
tum yunhi logo ko aas de diya karte ho
ummeed baant diya karte ho
iss shehar ki tarah
wohi kam aqal tha jo aetbaar kar baitha! 
(be-misraf - purposeless)(*ufaan- river in spate)

Sunday 16 August 2015

Rukhsat


kal shaam jab suraj dhala
badhte andheron me
ujalon ki baat ki thi humne
kai zamano ke baad
maazi ke guzre lamho ko yaad kiya tha
tere jaane ki sakht ghadi ko
kayi baar jiya tha humne!

aur mera sawal
jiska koi jawab bhi
nahi de paaye the tum
"kya yaad bhi nahi aati"
kaisa ehmaqana sawal tha!
aise sawal ka jawab hota bhi kya bhala
jab jawab hum dono hi jante the!

kya koi aise bhi rukhsat hota hai
na awaaz ke phaaye
na nami ankhon me
na qadmo ke koi nishan hi chhode
na 'khuda hafiz' hi keh paye Zindagi tumko!

Kaun aaya tha, kaise gaya
yahin the abhi, ab nahi ho
samajh na sake hum
bas kuch toote hue tukde mile the darwaze par
us rishte ke jisko
bade pyar aur mehnat se sanwara tha
ab sirf sannata hai
is ghar me bhi
aur mujh me bhi!







Saturday 8 August 2015

Love's Labour Lost- 3


 It was in the third year of marriage, around Diwali time that they debated whether they should buy a TV finally or not. TV would mean less time for conversation and more consumption of mindless stuff. But, then they had been watching many series online, so decided to buy it anyways. The same year, her mother fell sick had a heart attack and passed away after brief illness. He made sure that he pulled her out of depression. He assured her, that he will take care of her, will love her so much that she would not even remember her loss. He had made a promise to her dying mother, and to everyone in the family that he will be like a brother to her brother, and will love and protect her, always!

He took her after a few days for a holiday to Corbett and Nainital, and pampered her. Same year they bought a second- hand car. His office became more and more busy. He was feeling very frustrated at work. It was long hours, for less money, and work with no creativity. He wanted to write, so started his own blog. Working for a IT company, his experience helped him. She had started working for a university department, but left that job after eight nine months. Then, she joined another university, where she had to visit only once or twice a week for an hour or so, depending on the work. His working hours, blog, career trajectory was making him frustrated. She felt that his job was doing more harm than good. And, then finally one day, he called to say he had resigned from his job. They had enough arrangement of money which sustained them for three-four months without asking anybody for help. She had university holidays and went rarely, and whenever she went, he drove her there and back. She loved having him around the entire time, she wanted him to relax, take his time and then if he felt like working again then join a nice place (only problem was she did not earn enough to give him that confidence!). They went grocery shopping like they used to, even planned a trip to his hometown, for the first time, by train. She did the longest train journey with him. His family always loved having him around. Even now in their hard times, they splurged (cost of air tickets saved, had to be adjusted, but wisely). They came back, he again started searching and found a new tech start-up where hours were not brutal and actually gave holidays, and weekends off. He felt relieved, as it also gave him enough time to focus on his writing/blogging. He started writing food reviews as well, apart from travelogues, online delivery website reviews, etc. They bought an AC for their drawing room, and started sleeping in the drawing room in summers.
 He kept himself busy, and she was content with work, academics and him. She joined another university which paid more for longer working hours, and also wrote some study materials for different universities. 

It was nearly in the fifth year of their marriage that they had a burglary at their house. Most of her mother's gold jewelry and gifts she had received from his family were stolen. She felt insecure living in that house, apart from feeling depressed that she lost the important pieces given to her by her mother. But, assured herself the real thing was their relationship, their love and marriage. His parents and elder sister came to stay with them to help them get over the incident, and she hired a maid for housework for the first time. A few months later they left that first house of theirs. She cried buckets, it felt like end of that beautiful romantic life of terrace living, open air bar be-cues. He was not the nostalgic types, he loved the new house. This house was very beautiful, big, spacious more comfortable with a beautiful view of the park in the front, only problem was the parking space for the car. Soon after moving to this house, they left for the longest holiday to Kashmir, and were lucky to just come a day before the rains started (Kashmir experienced one of the worst floods of its history that year). Later that year in their own car, they went to Mussoorie. 

 She started teaching in another university now. The classes were mostly in the morning three days a week, and would always rush in the mornings with his help. He always took care of her meals, if she slept early, he would wake her up and feed her, made breakfast in the mornings on weekends, or on days she had her early morning classes. She usually got home by afternoon, would always call him and give him the report of how the different classes went, interaction with colleagues and students. They shared everything, his office goings- on to her university routines. University had long holiday breaks. As he kept getting busy with his writing, he felt she was not doing much, and was becoming too laid back in life. She felt he was getting too much drawn in his world of social media, as he joined various groups. She retreated into a shell as he became more and more outgoing. He got invites to various high-end restaurants and loved the high life. She felt disconnected with that kind of life, and felt uncomfortable in that kind of environment, as she neither drank, nor danced nor ate much of meat! He started going out alone more and more and enjoying himself without her. They still had their together time, but interrupted, as he would just be checking his feed for updates and notifications of Facebook and Twitter. 

They still loved each other, but love in the times of social media, was a different thing altogether! In the new house, an extra room was reserved for guests. He had told her, he wanted all her attention always, he could ignore her, but never wanted her attention to go waver ever. Even guests coming over made him jealous. He wanted to see her when he woke up, have breakfast together, she should say his safety prayer with a bye-kiss when he left for work. During day, chat or message or call him. When he came back from office to make green tea or sharbat (depending on weather) with snacks and watch TV, while she pressed his forehead or gave him a head massage, and later they would cook the dinner together or sometimes cooked by turns, depending on the mood or on how tired the other person was. Home was a happy, content, peaceful place with all the comforts one could imagine or want in a house. He thought it was the best year for both of them. They were comfortable finally, his blog was also doing well, they traveled a lot that year.She felt it was the previous year to that.   

To be continued...



Monday 3 August 2015

Hum Theek Hain!!


Aajkal bada mushkil ho gaya hai
Is aam se sawal ka jawab dena
ke "hum kaise hain?"
Agar kaha ke hum theek hain, to itni jaldi?
Aur agar kaha, abhi tak theek nahi,
to itni der kyun??

Agar chalte chalte yun lage
Ke achanak paon be-his ho gaye hain
Chala to rahe hain jism ko par mehsoos nahi hote
sannata sa rehta hai
zehen ke andar aur bahar bhi
ankhen chhalakne ko betab rehti hain
Dil ki jagah lagta hai ek aabla hai dard ka
Barf ka mausam hai
Jo har jazbe me utar aaya hai
Deemak ki tarah mohabbat
andar se khokhla kar gayi aur
ilm bhi na hua
ke jism ko kab ghun lag gaya
aur imarat kab dheh gayi

Ankhen ab raah takte takte patthar ho jayen
To bhi labo se na koi
awaz ayegi
Aur na hi koi shikwa niklega
Woh meri mohabbat thi
Yeh meri shikast hai;

baqi hum bafazle Khuda
bilkul theek thaak hain!

Beedi Peeti Aurat

 बीड़ी पीती औरत   अंकुश लगती है घूरती निगाहों को समाज नकारता है कुढ़ता है उसकी बेईमानी पर   उसके कर्त्तव्य याद दिलाता है   ये उसका हक़ नहीं   इ...