Saturday 31 December 2016

Yamuna

 वो जो दरिया था..
वो उतर गया यारों
उसके घाट पर जलते मुरदों की निशानियां
उनमें कहीं कुछ उसकी भी थी कहानीयां
जो सबके गुनाहों को धोया उसने 
तो सब में खुद को खोया उसने
दिन ने जो सूरज की धूप का आईना चमकाया
पानी का चेहरा उसमें कुछ और भी धुंधलाया
दरिया तो अपने चांद से भी शर्मिंदा था 
उसमें उसका अक्स अब कहां जिंदा था
दरिया का ज़ख़्म बड़ा गहरा था
दरिया अब बेहिस बेबेहरा था
बरसात में गुज़रते बादलों ने
उस पर कभी जिंदगी बरसाई थी 
मगर दरिया के लिए नाकाफी थी
पानी को प्यास तो जन्मों की थी
दिल दरिया का मर गया था
वो जो दरिया था 
वो कब का उतर गया था  !

Woh jo dariya tha...
Woh utar gaya yaaron
Uske ghaat par jalte murdo ki nishaniyan
Unme kahin uski bhi thi kahaniyan
Sabke gunahon ko jo dhoya usne
Sab me kuch-kuch khudko khoya usne
Din ne dhoop ka aaina chamkaya
Chehra pani ka aur bhi dhundlaya
Dariya chand se bhi sharminda tha
Usme uska aks ab kahan zinda tha
Uska zakham bada gehra tha
Wo ab awara behiss* bebehra* tha
Guzarte Barsaat ke badal ne
Kabhi Meherbani ki thi
Kabhi usko zindagi di thi
Par ye pyaas Janmo ki thi!
Dil Dariya ka to kab ka mar gaya tha
Woh jo dariya tha
Woh kab ka Utar gaya tha yaaron!                                                                                         
                                                                                                                                 

*बेहिस / behiss- emotionless
*बेबेहरा / bebehra-not bothered

Monday 19 December 2016

Politics As The Base Structure?


Marx views economics as the most basic and most important institution of society which supports and influences other institutions (social and political). Sociologists especially early ones like Durkheim and Weber made a case for social institutions as being the most important institutions of society. Can we make a case for one institution vis a vis another? Or rather should we?Let me say it at the outset that, all institutions have some functions to fulfill and all are important for smooth running of the society.

Now coming to the present blogpost, we view history and its different eras through the political Empires or dynasties which ruled. It was the reign of the Emperors' which defined lives for their people. There was no other identity except, that they were subjects of the Roman or Byzantine Empire. 
It was not just the economic systems but political Capitalist and Socialist regimes which defined and affected foreign policy in the Cold War era. Of course Economics was a big part of it but decision makers about the Economic policies have always been all politicians. We remember Germany for Hitler or England's Margaret Thatcher and not vice versa.  

At the National Museum or even in our books, our history is divided into different sections or eras from Guptas to Mauryas to Mughals to British etc. The reign of political dynasties provided the identity to subjects as boundaries over land kept redrawing post every battle. 

I had a discussion with a friend recently who talked about growing up in Communist Bengal where it did not matter what class people belonged to. In comparison, Delhi as a city has always been all about status and lineage. Communist party rule ensured class becomes insignificant under its rule, and Congress party rule at other places ensured status remains important. UP has always been ruled by parties playing on the caste and religion aspect and the society gets polarized on these lines. (The reverse argument can be society has been stratified hence the ruling parties. Social influencing the politics, but politics has fanned these major fault lines even further).
The ruling party ensures the kind of life and debates its citizens participate in. Congress party has mostly followed liberal, non-interfering kind of center-left social politics. People born in the Nehruvian era still carry different principles as compared to people born in Indira's Emergency period or later. For people born in the 1990s the era of caste and religious politics coupled with liberalization, being Indian is a completely different experience for them. This generation has not seen the days of country's financial struggles or sharing of one single TV screen or a landline phone by an entire Mohalla. Thus, the sharing of socialism gets replaced by the single, personal "I" phone, i.e. My phone (no sharing please, we are in the Capitalist/ post Liberal era, my privacy/space is important!).
           
 The present Demonetization where Modinomics (Modi's Economics, soon turning into a special academic discipline) turned entire nation towards barter exchange due to lack of cash. (Political dispensation again deciding the economic and social life of people). The political regimes' affect cultural/social leanings of the era. Under Ashoka, Buddhism received state patronage but disappeared later. Akbar's liberal policies can be contrasted with Aurangzeb's insistence on theology inspired Islam (clashes with Sufis like Sarmad/Dara Shikoh), i.e. ruler's own ideological leanings define the politics of that era. From Hitler to the cow politics of Modi to the liberal era of Congress leaders including Manmohan Singh significant social changes can be witnessed under these leaders. If we do consider political institution as important and not  the most important even then we should be more vigilant towards who we choose as our rulers, under democracy this becomes even more significant. We are not choosing only for ourselves but we are choosing society's -social/ economic/ political life for that period.        

Wednesday 7 December 2016

The Small Town of Farrukhnagar


From Dauhla, we went for a day trip to Farrukhnagar, a small town near Gurgaon to help students' understand that transition from rural to urban, before we finally came back to Delhi. The trip also gave us a chance to bond with our students'. With semester system everybody is in a rush to finish the syllabus, usually there is little time left to establish rapport between students and teachers.

One student from Benaras has taken a loan of 6 lakh to study architecture (it is an expensive course!) as family was poor and wanted him to take up a more secure job in the Railways’. His ordeals and survival tales were inspiring in themselves. Sad part was the disconnect he now felt with the family.

A SC student spoke about how he had applied to another institute where the teacher while filling his form, had put in another course from what he wanted. When he tried to correct the teacher, he was told “Tum logo ke liye yehi theek hai” (This is better for you people). And our boy decided to opt for a better institute where his choice would be respected and his social identity will not be a factor in choosing any course.

A girl who was her parents’ only child, (father was a very wealthy trader) always had “a driver uncle” shadowing her everywhere including this trip. Students’ knew about it but we found out later. Students' had even arranged for a room and food for him on this trip. To return favor by students, driver uncle often gave lift to students' to different places in the big car which followed our girl. I even spoke to the father but he was paranoid about his daughter’s safety! She had a brother but nobody ever shadowed him, special treatment for the girl cause father thought 'times are bad'. My colleague told me that when she draws, her drawings are very dark,probably some pent up resentment or maybe we were assuming too much.

We had rented two buildings situated at some distance for stay (with separate rooms and attached bathrooms). These felt like luxury post-Daulah. We had spoken with a restaurant wala to provide for all meals for our group. We were back to Chowmein, Chhola Bhatoora, Rasmalais etc. Some of the students who found the Village difficult to adjust actually liked it here.(City Kids!)

Faujdar Khan established the city in 1732, the first Nawab of Farrukhnagar and a governor of Mughal Emperor (1713–1719) Farrukhsiyar in 1732. Farrukhnagar flourished due to its salt trade till the late 19th century, and was abandoned in the early 20th century, during the British Raj.
Farrukhnagar had a few tourist spots, a Sheesh Mahal where there was no Sheesha left but restoration was going on. We met a INTACH uncle here. He was old and as he spotted our group, volunteered to take us around town. He told us the city's composition changed post- Partition as most Muslims moved out of the city. Uncle was a teacher and he had found his audience in our students'. He explained about the restoration work of Sheesh Mahal, the salt trade for which the city was famous, his family and kids. The rest of the town did not match his energy. It was a sleepy place where we saw most men playing cards or just lazing around.  










He took us to the erstwhile Jama Masjid and refused to come inside and left us at a distance. The place was overtaken and now had a Mandir with almost all Gods, Sai baba, and even a gurugranth sahib. The people around did not want much publicity for the place or it would lead to trouble, so they discouraged outsiders visiting the place (our assumption!).
Uncle disagreed with them obviously. It was quite shocking to be honest. The place was restored and had the potential for riots but it seemed there was no Muslim                                                             population left in the town to object.



Once we were done at the "Jama Masjid's darshan" we found Uncle waiting for us. We almost forty of us went through lanes and by-lanes to reach the town's famous Baoli. In hot sun, it felt like a long walk but once we went inside it was quite a sight and absolutely beautiful.    

We sat there took mandatory photos and selfies and then it was time to leave Farrukhnagar. We went to the restaurant for lunch and then students took a train back while faculty hired a taxi for Delhi.
 

Saturday 26 November 2016

Story of a Smart Village


We visited village Dauhla/ Doulah, Khora Harchandpur, district Manesar (near Delhi) with my Architecture students' few months back. It was a week long Village study for students’ (I only stayed there for three days with them). It had no ATM and we were all asked to carry cash (if Demonitization had happened then, I cannot imagine what would have happened!).

It was a small village dominated by Rajputs and some Harijans, Valmikis, handful of Brahmins, Muslims, etc. It had good infrastructure- roads, water, electricity (proximity to the capital). We stayed at the Havelis (recently renovated by Neemrana group) which had beautiful view of the Aravalis. For our meals we had to hire the Village Sweet shop Halwai, who with his team of helpers provided us breakfast, lunch, evening tea/snacks and dinner (oily and spicy but tasty. We often wondered about his menu choices for example, pakoras and pulao for breakfast were unusual). In the afternoon, the food was transported to an empty school building in the middle of the village. The havelis were at a distance from the village and required travel via e-rickshaws (good connectivity within the village or boys just took lift on bikes from various 'Bhaiyas' of the Village).

It took almost two hours to reach. I reached Doulah and spotted our students on the main road taking notes. I asked them how was it going and they 'complained' that villagers are 'too sweet'. They had been getting pampered with food, tea and affection. One of my students' guided me to the haveli and with all its facilities, there was only One bathroom!
So, teachers shared the bathroom with around twenty or so students' (the other haveli had couple of bathrooms but was smaller). We stayed in a big long room with three or four big Charpayi (cots), big chairs, big swing and french windows with beautiful drapes and some small jharokas and interesting interiors. My colleague had tied a rope in the middle of the room as there was no space to put clothes to dry/hang.

We headed for the Village after I had some tea and pulao and reached the temple. The temple had a new extension with statues of most Gods, the old small room temple was getting replaced by tall, big, shiny new structure under construction. Villagers were proudly showing off that the tall structure now was visible from a distance and now they had space for more Gods.
It had a big courtyard where people from some Government organisation (probably FCI) had come to talk about a new variety of seeds. There was a big table and some chairs (arranged by Panchayat), after they left we had the gathering to ourselves.
We  asked Village elders about the ‘Smart Village’ tag. Some were skeptical, some were hopeful. But all said, nothing has happened so far, many things were being promised though. Many officials are coming for different kinds of collection of data, statistics, etc.

After  speaking with village elders/men, we asked if we could also speak with a few women folk.
 Women came wearing ghunghats and waited till all men dispersed before talking to us. They were coming from a stitching center, which was functional for six months a year. They went in groups and said they would prefer any vocation in which they could work from home. Movements were restricted, even young girls who went to college (Manesar/Gurgaon) either went with their brothers or in a large group. They were not allowed to carry mobile phones, their brothers carried the phones though.
We had a male colleague with us so women kept wearing their veils. One young girl a little rebellious told the other women that she disliked the veil and would ‘never do it’, only to be reprimanded for ‘going against the traditions’. (Married women mostly wore saris and took veil, young girls wore suits and dupattas). Teej was one of the major festivals along with Diwali, Dussehra, Raksha Bandhan, etc.

Its closeness to Delhi/Gurgaon was a boon and bane for its residents. Urbanisation getting too close and threatening the traditional life, people migrating from the village for better opportunities while outsiders coming to set up 'plants' were changes that were not much appreciated. Big zamindar families had moved out and their houses were closed and fields outsourced to smaller farmers.

It was almost afternoon and we walked to the school for lunch on darries  in plastic plates in the open verandah. Some students took nap. Some followed us back to the village. Most houses had open verandahs outside and big cots for people to sit and chat. We sat on one of these as a man came from inside the house, switched on the fans, offered us tea and since electricity had come, also charged our phones (famous hospitality on display of the Rajputs).
    
Everybody knew the time for power cuts and managed their devices accordingly. We charged our mobiles/ laptops at night, power usually went in the morning, by that time we would be getting ready to visit the village in batches. The haveli was very well ventilated so we did not feel hot without fans (ACs were not even missed).

One group of students' came to complain that one Vakeel Sahab is being difficult and not allowing them inside his house. (He had every right to refuse!) The students had to measure traditional, big houses (usage of various spaces, design, animal sheds, etc). Owner of this house refused and shouted at students' so we asked them to take their measurements at another house (exceptions are always there).

 We went back to the Haveli in E-Rickshaws for some evening tea and burgers (desi and very tasty!).  Every evening before dinner we took stock of days’ work with different groups. Then we ate dinner in the open courtyard and went to our separate parts of the Haveli to sleep. The terrace had a beautiful view where I went to make my phone calls to friends' and family.

 Next morning, we waited until students' had left so we could use the bathroom. I went last! One E-Rickshaw was reserved for us. The Village temple was our meeting place as we discussed our plans for the last day to finish all measurements, drawings/ sketches, interviews, etc.

Village had a Sarpanch (Senior/Head) and various other Panchs (around ten Juniors). Last Sarpanch was a woman (but it was her husband who ruled on her behalf). Now it was the 'Reserved Category' Valmiki SC who had became a Sarpanch. He was mostly running around for this and that. With a group of students I went to interview ex-Mahila Sarpanch, her house was locked so we decided to interview the Sarpanch before her, a Rajput Sarpanch (an old Tau, a Congress supporter, extremely big house with modern facilities, power backup, etc.).

He was very honest to say that the Rajputs chose Valmiki instead of a Harijan (contest was between these two for the post) because this guy (present Sarpanch, a VIII class dropout who was animal herder) was easier to control! Rest of the Panchs were all Rajputs. So, even if the government through its welfare policies of Reservation etc. may force the Villagers to accept women/lower castes as Heads, the power still rests with the Upper castes. He also talked about how caste segregation worked in the village. There were separate grounds for Valmikis/ Harijans/ Rajputs.  
On the question of 'Smart Village' he dismissed it completely as a gimmick. He told us that recently a very senior bureaucrat had bought lots of land in the Village, thus he was not surprised that Village was selected in the list of 'Smart Villages'. He did not see much happening so far and had his doubts about future policies, but the prices of land had gone up!

 As we started to leave we could see the children of the Village following Bhaiyas/ Didis and elderly saying the usual, 'should have come for a longer stay' almost family like goodbye scenes. Some girls got teary eyed. The love and affection that our students' received from Dauhla will be something they will remember and cherish for the rest of their lives. Smart or not the village trip for all of us was a fascinating experience.  

From Dauhla we next went to Farrukhnagar, a small town for a day trip. 

Wednesday 2 November 2016

Ghazal

बेक़रारी  सी बेक़रारी है
इक तेरे इश्क़ की खुमारी है
हमने हर लमहा दूरी में
हर घड़ी तेरे साथ ही गुजारी है
ना गई तेरी बेरूखी की लज़्ज़तें
हर एक बात हमने दिल में उतारी है
तू न था तुझको कहीं तो देखा था
लिया न नाम तेरा बेआवाज़ याद पुकारी है
हज़ारों में कहीं नाम तो रहा होगा
कई इश्क़ में इक हमारी भी शुमारी है
बच्चियां सब इस अह्द की चिड़ियाँ हुई
आदमी का न पता भेड़िया है या शिकारी है
हमारी चाहत का कश्कोल* रहा सदा खाली
सारी ज़ीसत* रहा ये दिल भिखारी है


بیقراری سی  بیقراری  ہے
ایک  تیرے  عشق  کی  خماری  ہے
ہمنے  ہر  لمحہ  دوری  مے
ہر گھڑی   تیرے  ساتھ  ہی  گزاری  ہے
نا گی تیری بے رخی کی لذّتیں
ہر  ایک  بات  ہمنے  دل  مے  اتا  ری  ہے
تو  نا  تھا  تجھکو  کہیں  تو  دیکھا  تھا
لیا  نا  نام  تیرا بے -آواز  یاد  پکاری  ہے
ہزارو  مے  کہیں  نام  تو  رہا  ہوگا
کیی عشق مے  ایک  ہماری  بھی  شماری  ہے
بچچیاں  سب  اس  احد  کی  چڑیا   ہویی 
آدمی  کا  نا  پتا  بھیدیا  ہے  یا  شکاری  ہے
ہماری  چاہت  کا  کشکول * رہا  سادہ  خالی
ساری  زیست  رہا  یہ  دل  بھکاری  ہے


Beqarari si beqarari hai
Ek tere ishq ki khumari hai
Humne har lamha doori me
Har ghadi tere sath hi guzari hai
Na gayi teri berukhi ki lazzaten
Har ek baat humne dil me utari hai
Tu na tha tujhko kahin to dekha tha
Liya na naam tera be-awaz yaad pukari hai
Hazaro me kahin naam to raha hoga
Kayi ishq me ek hamari bhi shumari hai
Bachchiyan sab is ehad ki chidiya hui
Admi ka na pata bhediya hai ya shikari hai
Hamari chahat ka kashkol* raha sada khali
Saari zeest raha yeh dil bhikari hai



*katora
*zindagi


Wednesday 19 October 2016

A Thought


Teri yaadon ki kachchi dhoop me
Kayi din guzare hain
Aur Lapet kar khud ko
Tere khayal ki chadar me 
Humne kaata hai hijr!

Sunday 2 October 2016

Talash

दिन के पहरों में
कई दोपहरों में
ढूंढा तुझे
जूनून में
रास्तों पर
जिनका न
पता कोई

कभी मिली
कहानी के
किरदारों में
शबाहत तेरी
कभी गीत में
गाया तुझको
तेरे ख्याल
की बारिशों ने
भिगोया मुझको

सोच के
दरीचों से झाँका
कभी बनाया ख़ाका*
कभी पूरा
कभी अधूरा सा

तेरे आस्ताने*
पर पहुंचे
और लौटे
खाली हाथ
न तू मिला
न दीदार तेरा
न सुराग़ कोई

मायूस बे-आस
रूह की आवाज़
मेरे साईं
मौला मेरे
मुझे मिलता नहीं
तेरा निशान
और
कहना तेरा
है तू ही तू
और कुछ नहीं
तेरे सिवा
मैं नाकामी
के अंधेरो में
तेरी रौशनी की
जुस्तुजू में
तेरी तलाश में ....                                                                                                             Din ke peharo me
Kai dopaharo me
Dhoonda tujhe
Junoon me
Rasto par
Jinka na
Pata koi

Kabhi mili
Kahani ke
Kirdaro me
Shabahat teri
Kabhi geet me
Gaaya tujhko
Tere khayal
Ki barisho ne
Bhigoya mujhko
Soch ke
Daricho se jhaanka
Kabhi banaya Khaaka*
Kabhi poora 
Kabhi adhoora sa

Tere astane*
Par pahunche
Aur laute
Khaali hath
Na Tu mila
Na deedar Tera
Na suragh koi

Mayoos be-aas
Rooh ki awaaz
Mere Saieen
Maula mere
Mujhe milta nahi
Tera nishan
Aur
Kehna Tera
Hai Tu hi Tu
Aur kuch nahi
Tere siwa..
Main nakami
Ke andhero me
Teri roshni ki
Justuju me
Teri Talash me....

*Khaaka- Sketch
*Astana- Abode

Saturday 17 September 2016

Rapture*

विजदान* में
अँधेरी रात के
कोयले से लिखे थे
पानी पर कुछ अल्फ़ाज़ ..

कभी चाँद की रौशनी में
पानी पर लिखी तहरीरें*
तारों सी चमकती हैं
और कभी
दिन की रौशनी
लफ्ज़ो की सियाही को
ऐसे गुम कर देती है
के नहीं रहती
कोई निशानी कहीं ..

कभी ऐसी रोशनाई*
से लिखा कुछ लफ्ज़ो को
वोह
बुलबुलों की शकल में
पानी की सतह पर
उभरे और डूब गए
और कभी
दिल में हो गए
रक़म* ऐसे
जैसे
गोदने* का  निशान

Wijdan* me
Andheri raat ke
Koyele se Likhe the
Paani par kuch Alfaz..

Kabhi Chand ki roshni me
Paani par likhi tehreeren*
Taaron si chamakti hain

Aur Kabhi
Din ki roshni
Lafzo ki siyahi ko
Aise goom kar deti hai
Ke nahi rehti
Koi Nishani kahin..

Kabhi Aisi roshnayi*
Se likha kuch Lafzo ko
Woh
Bulbulo ki shakal me
Paani ki satah par
Ubhre aur doob gaye

Aur Kabhi
Dil me ho gaye
Raqam* aise
Jaise
Godne ka nishan*

(*Wijdan/Rapture - the self lost through possession/love,consumed by another) 
(*Tehreeren- Text)
(*Roshnayi- Colored Ink)
(*Raqam- Chronicled )
(*Godne ka nishan- Tattoo)

Saturday 27 August 2016

Khayal


Bina dastak
Bewaqt chala aata hai
Na tameez
Na adab buzurgo ka
Na lihaz logo ka
Kabhi bheed
Kabhi tanhai me
Din-raat ke peher ki
Qaid se azaad
Kabhi Ghanto
Kabhi Lamho ke liye
Soch ki zameen par
Jad pakde Bargad ki tarah
Zehen ke akash me phel jaaye
Apni hukumat chalaye
Na duhaayi
Na sunvayi koi
Zalim hai Tumhari tarah
Khayal Tumhara!!

Tuesday 5 July 2016

Shahjahanabad Shooting Diary- Sehri Walk

 Sehri is the pre-dawn meal which people eat before they begin their fasts. Sehri foods like different kind of breads (coconut/ butter-jam/ dry fruits, etc), khajla, pheni (fried sewaiyan) etc. are Ramzan specials and are available only during this month. The sense of time that Shahjahanabad follows (late mornings/late nights for markets) gets even more stretched at night now. The food is available till dawn when the Sehri ends. Markets remain open for Eid shoppers throughout the night as days are too hot and people fasting prefer shopping post-Iftar. With Ramzan the time schedule changes for Old Delhi, especially in the Muslim populated areas.    
 We had registered interested people through social media for our Sehri Walk. We thought a group of 20 would be sufficient, but it ended up being 25! 
More girls' registered for this Sehri walk as they saw it as a chance to explore the streets of the city at night (11pm-4am!), without worrying about the safety aspect! 

On the day of the walk, the prediction by the Met department came true (surprise, surprise!) and Delhi received its first Monsoon rains! Our team with our fingers crossed calmed each other's nerves that rains would stop by 11 pm, the scheduled time of the Walk! Rains did stop and weather cleared a bit, but as it happens, post-rains traffic was chaotic. People got stuck in traffic at different places, even Metro was delayed. At 11 pm with just a couple of us at Chandni Chowk Metro Station (our meeting point), we even discussed if we should postpone it to the next day. But then, people started coming in. We were left with a group of 20 people and could only start our walk around 11.40 pm!

We walked from the Metro Station to the main Chandni Chowk market. Chandni Chowk was mostly deserted with homeless migrant laborers sleeping on the pavement. From the few shops which were open here, one was the Lemon Soda wala, which had a decent crowd even at this hour. One of the oldest 'bunta' shop in this area. 

From Chandni Chowk we walked till the Ballimaran turn and were shocked to see the crowds. It was up and active as shop sellers sold Eid clothes, shoes, household stuff and food. We went up to Manzoor Nahari. Their nahari famous in this area, gets  over in two hours. We sat and had nahari with big, hot Tandoori Khameeri nans/breads. Just next to their shop was the Habshi Halwa shop (made from burnt milk, black in color, thus named after the Blacks!). A few steps ahead was a Kebab wala whose Kebabs had been sold out already.
It started drizzling from here and all those who were carrying cameras, including our team started looking for things to cover their equipments.
 From Ballimaran we walked till Hauz Qazi main lane to Bade Miyan's Kheer. It was one of the best Kheers that I had ever tasted. 'It is cooked for 7-8 hours on very low flame' over a  firewood chulha. Its owner also narrated that Madhubala was born at the house upstairs and her family lived there for sometime before shifting to Bombay!

 The rain showed no sign of stopping as some of us walked, some took the battery rickshaws to the end of the Lal Kuan street to Katra Baryan for Khan Omlette. The name should have been 'Khan's Eggs' (given the experiments that Khan sahab did with eggs, but I guess, that would have been weird)!

The eggs that we tasted were only three of his preparations from a big list There was a long queue and we were told that we had a waiting time of 40 mins atleast. On our persistent requests, our waiting time came down to 20 mins! We tried his special Omlette sandwich which had cheese. It was good, but his next preparation "Khan Special"was the best! The eggs tasted like Qeema. The third we were told was a boiled egg bhurji, which was good too. A complete revelation!
It was raining quite heavily by now. We hired four e-rickshaws for the group and a couple of cycle rickshaws for Jama Masjid. We were told that newly opened Anwar Food Corner had good chicken Haleem. We (me and my Editor/Videographer bhai) had not eaten much at other places as we looked forward to eating some good Haleem!We could not have been more wrong!

It was a disgrace to Haleem! Extremely runny, with bits of Chana Dal visible and no taste! I decided to give my feedback to the owner, who just completely ignored me and walked off! After a few spoons our bowl of Haleem remained untouched! 




We started for Aslam Butter Chicken, but what we saw there just completely killed our appetite. It looked like the aftermath of a Chicken war. Leftover of Butter Chicken was piled up on the main road. Most of us just refused to eat. They had wrapped up the kitchen, so it took them time to make more food for us. By the time chicken came after almost twenty minutes most of us had dozed off. 
It was almost around 3.30 am by the time we left Aslam to taste some Pheni (fried sewaiyan) with milk. They had big bowls, I always liked my Khajla/Pheni crispy with very little milk, these were completely soaked in lots of milk. We skipped Shahi Tukda, and instead preferred some tea at the Pheni stall. 

The announcements at different intervals from Jama Masjid kept reminding us of the time left in the Sehri “Hazrat Sehri Ka Waqt Khatam Hone me ab Paanch minute baaqi hain, apne apne mamoolat jald khatam kar len” (Respected people, now it is just five minutes left for the Sehri to end, please finish your routine things fast).

 By 4am, all of us had started calling cabs and called it a night at dawn!    

Link for Video of the Sehri Walk -
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yp3pAF53pYY 

Sunday 19 June 2016

Shahjahanabad Shooting Diaries: Iftar Walk with Delhi Food Walks


Since Ramzan at Shahjahanabad is such a special month, we decided to Video document some of it through Iftar and Sehri Walks with Delhi Food Walks. Chawari Bazar Metro station was our meeting point. The two groups of people (those who had registered with Delhi Food Walks and those who had registered with Sahapedia) had all arrived, totaling to almost thirty in number. The big group now had us worried, as it was extremely crowded, we were already sweating in the hot and humid weather and to carry such a big group around Shahjahanabad, needed special skills. Anubhav Sapra (Delhi Food Walks') was unfazed by the crowds.

Anubhav led us from Chawari Bazar to Jama Masjid for Iftar. As it was a Saturday, the Nai Sarak-Chawari Bazar stretch was extremely crowded. The entire group walked in rows of twos and threes following Anubhav, up to Jama Masjid, crowding the bazar even further.

It was already 7pm by the time we reached the mosque. One girl from the group was wearing a short dress and was not allowed inside. It would have been extremely sad to leave out a group member during Iftar in Iftar walk.  At first, I offered my dupatta as a wrap skirt but the sleeveless dress required top covered as well. Both my Sahapedia colleague and I, rushed to the Gate no.3 (Dariba side) from Gate no. 1 (Matia Mahal) to look for gowns they usually offer to foreigners. There were none at Gate no. 1, only lungis which was offered to a foreigner wearing shorts. The guy who had gowns decided to act difficult and refused for some reason. I named the person I knew who had given us the shooting permission and it worked! She finally entered the premises wearing a long gown over her dress.

But in this running around, we forgot our camera people. They were getting harassed by authorities for carrying cameras and moving without shooting permission! Finally things got sorted and we started shooting as Tufaila (Delhi Food Walks) explained to the group the significance of Ramzan and benefits of fasting.

Anubhav had ordered water bottles and small boxes from Kallan sweets of mince samosa-paneer jalebi, along with dates and different kinds of pakoras. The courtyard of the mosque was filled with families sitting with their dastarkhwans spread out with delicacies waiting for the time to pass. The last minutes are the hardest, as we spotted people distributing Sharbets, samosas, dates to the Rozadars'. People selling water got taunted for being too commercial and selling water to Rozadars!

The most interesting is the announcement of iftar! A man stands at one of the small Minars and signals with a green flag then the cannon sound goes off! And entire Jama Masjid gets lit up. At other mosques time for iftar is marked by a siren sound but Shahi Masjid continues the tradition from Shahjahan's time! After Azaan, people get ready for Maghrib prayers, we finished some of our food and made our way to the Matia Mahal lane to start our food walk.






We started with Aslam located on the Matia Mahal lane, well known for its butter chicken. All the three floors were completely full. We shared our table with a Vegetarian couple and kept extending our sympathies to them(as we could not share our food) while finishing off our chicken and kebabs! We did not even touch the salad, and neither did they, not even paneer!
We should not have eaten as much as we did here (hindsight: but it was too tasty).  From here we went to Taufiq Biryani where we tasted a few spoons of his achari Biryani and then went to Shabrati's Nihari. Here also everybody just tasted the nihari topped with butter, brain and bone marrow, with Khameeri roti. ()Taufiq's biryani and Shbarati's Nahari we had previously covered in our Breakfast walk with Anubhav).
A few steps ahead  from Shabrati's shop, we had sweet khoya filled samosa at Ameer Sweet House. From Haveli Azam Khan we walked towards Chitli Qabar where we tasted different kinds of breads from Flora Bakery. For Ramzan, bakeries sell Coconut, Butter-Jam, Dry Fruit breads. (Coconut is personal favorite). By now, we had started to feel quite guilty for the vegetarian couple, here they finally had something to eat.
 From Chitli Qabar we walked back towards Sui Walan for Al-Suleman's shakes. We tasted date and Injeer shakes (injeer was better as date was very sweet).  
 We again walked towards Matia Mahal for Pyaar Mohabbat Maza drink. The name intrigued us all. The shakes were heavy but the name of the drink ensured that everybody tasted it. It was milk Roohafza with water melon chunks. We made a few jokes about its name and moved a few steps for dessert.
We were served Shahi tukda with mango ice cream. Some people preferred the combo, some only tasted the ice cream and kulfi. Mango ice cream was actually very good.

 Anubhav offered to take us to an exclusive Date shop where the variety of dates from around the world was fascinating. The owner explained about the various dates on display and specifically about the Ajwa' dates' (most expensive) health benefits.

By 11pm the bazar was still crowded. We all had a very filling experience (pun intended!). The stomach was confused with the onslaught of various foods and drinks, after the day long fasting.
It took all of us a lot of effort to walk back out of Shahjahanabad towards Turkman Gate with such a heavy stomach.
Link to Video-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fq3vtotd4X4

Wednesday 15 June 2016

Mohabbat Mo'tabar hai


Mohabbat Mo'tabar* Hai
Koi ilzam nahi
Jo mathe par sajaya jaaye
Koi ehsan nahi
Jholi me giraya jaaye
Khairat* ka sikka nahi
Jhuk kar uthaya jaaye

Dastan dil ki
Dastan dard ki
Jo kahi nahi
Woh suna karo
Jo suni nahi
Woh kaha karo

Dunya se ladna
Bahut asaan Jana
Sabse mushkil magar
Jung Khudi ki
Jeetna bhi khud se
Harana bhi khud ko
Uthna bhi khud se
Girana bhi khud ko
Samajhna bhi khud se
Samjhana bhi khud ko
Roothna bhi tum se
Manana bhi tumko

Rishto'n se aetbar uth jaaye
Yakeen wa'don se jaaye
Gehre ghup andhero me
Ek maddham kiran
Kahin chupke se aaye
Gum karde tareeki*
Ujale raste dikh laaye

Mohabbat Aezaz* Hai
Mohabbat Mo'tabar Hai
Koi ilzam nahi
Jo mathe par sajaya jaaye
Koi ehsan nahi
Jo jholi me giraya jaaye
Khairat* ka sikka nahi
Jo jhuk kar uthaya jaaye

*Mo'tabar - High Esteem/ regard
*Khairat- Charity
*Tareeki - Darkness
* Aezaz- Honor

Monday 13 June 2016

Trip to Kasol- 2











































Continued from the Link:  http://uzmaazharali.blogspot.in/2016/06/trip-to-kasol-1.html 


The trip so far had looked 'almost' perfect.  
I got friendly with the farm animals, including the three dogs. They had unusual names(Kali/ Bhaloo/ Tiger) and gave me company while I ate. I inquired about the probability of dogs feeling sense of identity loss with names like Bhaloo and Tiger but the owner laughed it off. As he also shrugged off Kali's aggression, when it tried to bite me with the excuse  of old age and lack of biting teeth! 
I wanted to explore the place a lot more and decided to travel local after a days' rest at the resort.

Next morning after the horrible omelette and bad tea (how can anybody go wrong with those two basics?) I decided to take a walk up to Manikaran.
There is a gurudwara and some hot water natural geysers there. I had no intention of going any further up! Manikaran was almost 3-4 kms from Choj. The road is bad but walking along parallel flowing river makes up for everything. Many cars from Punjab come this side, so there is heavy traffic on this very narrow road.  A few small roadside dhabas selling tea, water, maggi, snacks, so travelers can stop and take a break.



   It had started to drizzle when I reached Manikaran. It is unlike any other Gurudwara that you would see, not just in terms of architectural design but also in terms of its philosophy. As I asked an older Babaji at the Gurudwara about the presence of various Hindu Gods and Goddesses (even Sai Baba!). He sounded upset about it, but from what I understood it was to make it inclusive for the local population, as there is negligible Sikh presence here.


On the ground floor is the hot water cave where the floor is blazing hot, so hot that it is difficult to walk bare foot. But, since one has to take off shoes at the entrance, you either walk or hop (your choice depending on your body's tolerance level to the hot floor)!  There was also a hot water tank where people (mostly men and children, no women) were taking bath. The hot water tank over the freezing Parvati river waters was quite a sight in itself. Like all the Gurudwaras, here too the kitchen was a busy place as it catered to hungry travelers.




From Manikaran, I took a bus to Bhuntar, and from Bhuntar changed another bus for Manali. It was a four hour journey. The weather was overcast and the journey with river flowing on the side of the road extremely beautiful.

Manali was too crowded and too commercial. With the number of cars and a crowded market it felt like I was at Delhi's Karol Bagh! I bought a few souvenir gifts for friends and family and tried a couple of restaurants for food and coffee! At a restaurant in the main market, tried local grilled fish which was average in taste but expensive in price! The only decent place was this German Cafe where they had live music (guy singing on a guitar) I had a very good coffee with sweet cheese cake and bought few bottles of Apricot Oil from them.

In an hour and half I was done with crowded, touristy Manali! I took a taxi back and saw my Delhi-Mercedes bus walas driving badly on the road, and decided then and there I would take another bus back!


We encountered traffic jams at a few spots but the drive on this Manali stretch is extremely beautiful with river and mountains running parallel to the road.

It was around 9pm that I reached Choj. I went for dinner, and when I came back saw that a group of people from Mumbai had come and had set up huge speakers outside my cottage.
 I finished some work and then decided to make my objection official by 1 am! I was tired and hoped for an early start next morning.
 Kasol/Choj is a part of Parvati Valley where famous "Malana Cream" (a strain of Cannabis Hashish) can be found. This group here had come to "party" and were in their 'zone' with the psychedelic music!
The leader of the group offered me to shift to another cottage, 'the party will continue till morning', he said. I took the offer, as there was no point in arguing with these folks who were already in their 'zone' (I was outnumbered and though the group was civil not threatening, it made sense to shift for the night. The new cottage was bigger and better.

Early morning next day, somebody knocked on the door. I thought the party got over and probably its those guys. But, this was a new group who had just arrived and had mistaken the first cottage they saw as 'Reception'! It was around 5 am, and I thought I should go and check my room. They stopped the music when they saw me, wrapped up their stuff and then went to sleep to in their rooms, and I got my cottage back by 6am!

I was up now, decided to go for morning walk up to Kasol, had  stuffed parathas and tea there for breakfast and came back to sleep some more. After clearing my account, I ordered Maggi again from the same cook, but it was horrible this time! 
Suddenly there was water and electricity problem at the resort and especially affected my cottage.
I had packed my bag, I felt my luck on the trip was running out!
The boys from the Resort helped me carry my luggage across the bridge.There was a Bus to Delhi from Manikaran which left at 1 pm and crossed Choj.  I boarded the bus, took the front seat again for the view and said my "goodbyes" to Choj and the boys! Day journey meant I could still see the beautiful river and the hills, the Volvo bus at night would have robbed me of "my goodbyes to the hills".

There was a long traffic jam at Kasol as more people were coming in for the holiday. It looked like a wise decision to leave before the weekend.
The bus was a Himachal Tourism Bus, which usually gives a free tour to its passengers of the smaller towns of Himachal, Only I did not know that!
It looked like that I was going to see more of the hills than I expected. The bus took an interior route and locals kept boarding the bus for shorter journeys as it kept stopping at local bus stops.
By this time I was regretting my romanticism for local transport, and not going for a Volvo bus direct to Delhi, as we moved from one hillock to another of Himachal saying "Hello" to most of the house owners sitting in their balconies on the way! I tried to spot interesting local sign boards to bide time (like "Paan Banarasi Elaichi Liquor" etc.).
From 1 pm till 8 pm (seven hours!!) we were still in the hills! By now, it was an overdose of hills and an extremely over-stretched "Goodbye"!
As I  mentally composed my "Letter to the Hills" (Dear Hills, you know I love you, but you will have to let me go now, so I can return soon!) I knew I was completely losing it!

In all this, a fellow middle aged passenger started acting weird! He first kept staring and then came and sat on my three-seater seat. (The only consolation I had till now was, I could stretch myself on a three-seater seat which I had shared only for an hour with a mother-son duo). I told him to go back to his seat, on which he started arguing but left. To irritate me further, anybody who boarded the bus now on wards, he helpfully suggested my front seat as the 'best available' seat! I was tired, hungry and angry and since I was having such a great day, I decided to just ignore and postponed killing him!

Finally we reached plains of Punjab and stopped at a dhaba for dinner around 9.30 pm. Lack of sleep from previous night helped, as I started feeling sleepy post-dinner and spread myself as comfortably as I could on my seat (Thank God for small mercies). Bus stopped again at a dhaba around 2 am for tea. It was hot and humid, dhaba looked shabby. Most women from the bus did not leave the bus and some just got off to take a stroll to stretch their legs like me.

Finally, we reached Delhi at 5 am. I took a taxi from ISBT for Greater Noida the taxi driver overcharged, but I just badly wanted to reach "home".

My experience of solo trip would have been a lot better if on my return journey had taken a better bus back and not done everything on a whim!
But lesson for future trips Inshallah!

Link to Trip to Kasol-1-
http://uzmaazharali.blogspot.in/2016/06/trip-to-kasol-1.html

Saturday 11 June 2016

Trip to Kasol- 1


 I just could not decide on a place as I kept planning "someplace" to visit! When I finally found a week when I could leave the hot city weather for the cool hills, it started raining! A traveler friend suggested Manali as all other places on internet searches showed nothing available (train/hotels, June is a bad month for traveling, when families travel with kids' in their summer holidays). To Manali I could travel comfortably in many available Volvo buses and there are many places to stay at Old Manali & Vashisht, as per the advice of wise friends'. Also, could visit Kasol which is small, more quiet, with mostly Israeli tourists, no desi families. 

Take a Volvo from Paharganj (lots of buses available at frequent intervals), get off at Bhuntar (airport town) then take a taxi/bus to Kasol, were my instructions. I had to remember all the names (Bhuntar- Bhutta, Kasol- Kajol "j" replaced by "s"). I finished my work a day before and decided to pre-pone my trip by a day. I had not booked online ticket, I checked the buses which still showed vacancy, so I decided to take a Mercedes Benz bus. Boarding point was near Paharganj and my cab was late. But, there were so many options that I was not worried.
The bus was about to start when I reached, I spoke to the driver, who was sweet enough to give me a front seat with another woman passenger. There was a list of people who had booked and paid online, I had not, the driver "negotiated" with the company list guy and told me to pay in cash later. I tried haggling and he agreed to my quoted price! (My money went in his pocket, but I got a comfortable ride). 

The front seat meant great view but also involuntarily listening to the conversation between driver/ substitute driver/ conductor and then my fellow passenger joined in! She was a Punjabi and so was the driver and now we were listening to the stories from their Pind (village, they shared same district). 


We were provided with a blanket, a water bottle and a silver colored polythene to puke in! Some women had puked in their blankets on the previous night, so there was shortage of blankets. There was a stop over around mid night at a dhaba. The bus was comfortable but the horn was taken from a local truck, and it was so loud that it could wake up the dead! This meant no sleep as they kept honking throughout. The older driver post stop over took the wheel. A couple of men again stopped the bus for bathroom break and Uncle ji forgot his way as he kept chatting and sharing his stories with us. He asked the way from Punjab Police and luckily for us, this actually led to a shorter route. (But it did not stop him from cursing the guys who had stopped the bus!) They had a DVD player as nobody was sleeping we asked them to put on a movie. The movie started with a smooching scene and all the Aunty jis and Uncle jis in the bus, shouted at the staff to stop it. 
There were no "family films" sadly! 


We again had a stopover around 4am when the younger driver took over the wheel as the mountains had started, and the sun was breaking through. 

For breakfast, we stopped at a hotel and were given keys to a hotel room where we (just the three women, who sat on the front seats) could freshen up and were spared the dirty public toilet. The friendship with the bus staff helped us.

I paid my money to the driver sahab and promised I will take the same bus back as he gave his number for any 'help' needed. I avoided sharing my number. We were in the hills now, and had reached almost an hour before schedule. At Bhuntar, with few other bus passengers we shared a cab to Kasol.
The road to Kasol is bad and very narrow, almost an hour's drive from Bhuntar, thankfully the driver was experienced. He stopped at a couple of "good" spots for "photos/selfies". We finally reached Kasol. I checked into the first place I saw in the market area, haggled for a single room and got a decent one.

  For lunch I went to a cafe overlooking a stream. I could eat only half of the generous portion of well made Spaghetti. Post lunch, I went to explore the market, which resembled the usual hill station markets.
The river ran parallel, there were streams all around Kasol.




I met the group with whom I had shared the taxi and we decided to trek along the river.

After walking until sunset, we had dinner at a small dhaba place. The food, arguably was one of the best I had ever had at a dhaba. It was fresh, home-cooked and delicious.

I had to regularly update friends' and family who were worried that I was safe and alive from time to time!
Back at my hotel room, I realized that the nearby rooms were all full. There was a big group of loud men drinking in the balcony outside my room. I almost heard a few knocks. The owner, a young girl very politely expressed helplessness and herself complained against the bad behavior of these men! I decided, I had to change my hotel.

A friend had mentioned about a property three kms from Kasol. I called him for details and made a reservation there for the next day.  After having breakfast, I left Kasol for Choj in the taxi.

It was gorgeous. The river was flowing by the side of the resort' and a bridge connected with the road. It was around half an hour walk from Kasol. It was the perfect place to relax, with apple trees, less humans and more farm animals goat/sheep/ cattle/ dogs.
There was a staff of four young boys including a talkative Nepali, who had traveled almost all over India, and shared tips on solo traveling!
I had the best Maggi here with zeera and vegetable masalas made by a young boy.



But, the dinner turned out to be very bad and so was the breakfast!
I decided to eat my meals at Kasol.

At night, the lights made this place all the more beautiful under the star-lit sky, the sound of the flowing river and the psychedelic music! Yes, people come from the city to "party" here, so the bar area plays loud music, but that was far from my cottage . I could sleep in peace.

It felt like the perfect holiday that I had hoped for! From Serendipity to Serenity, unplanned things could throw up pleasant surprises, until..

Continued.....
Link :  http://uzmaazharali.blogspot.in/2016/07/trip-to-kasol-2.html

Saturday 21 May 2016

Remembering Razai' (Quilt)


Just before winters started (usually post-Dussehra, pre-Diwali days-Oct/Nov), my mother would start preparing for the colder months ahead. This meant getting the winter clothes out, washing or putting them in the sun and also to re-do/freshen the older Razais and the Lihafs. Razais were the lighter versions of the Lihafs, process of renewal involved fresh cotton fillers, washing covers and then finally sealing them with the stitching of the threads. As a child, I always found the process very tedious, and then later as a grown-up time consuming requiring a lot of labor, but never boring!

It started with taking off the older covers, cutting their old stitching lines and then washing them (by hand, as we did not have a washing machine then!). The covers if they were worn out were replaced by newer, shinier dupattas/old suit pieces (the older clothes got recycled) on the top. The bottom part (astar) was either bought new, or old one was colored again. In hot water, color was added, mixed and then cloth was added for a brand new color (mostly red) of the razai bottom. The most tricky thing was the "goat"(not the animal, but meant the corners), which were of plain color in satin usually, contrasted with the print of suit pieces/dupattas. Once the covers were fixed/stitched together, it was sent to the market cotton shop walas for putting cotton fillers inside the covers. Weight of heavy or light cotton decided if it was going to be a Lihaf/Razai! Lighter Razai involved more work by my mother.  In case of the Lihafs, shop walas added the cotton and then also stitched it together. Since, the cotton was thick it was left to the professionals to finish the job. Razai on the other hand, was delicate needed stitching under the expert supervision of my mother. Once the cotton fillers were added to the covers, my brother would get the Razai back and then it was beginning of the hard work! 

Post-lunch, after we came back from our schools the terrace was the place to be! The terrace was cleaned then on a clean big bed-sheet the un-stitched Razai was spread out in the warm sun. The neighbours were called as volunteers to put the threads, either the older Tai' (our elderly neighbourhood Aunty) or my childhood friend Shabbo (whom I suspected my mother loved more than me! She had also done a Tailoring course and could stitch perfect lines!). The entire exercise brought our immediate neighbours in the lazy afternoons on the terrace, as Ammi gossiped or discussed family issues or politics (both Tai and Ammi were politically very aware, thanks to the TV in our homes and watched news with interest).

Sometimes it was all of us and the Razai finished in just a couple of afternoons, with sessions of gossip and chai (made by me). If it finished in a couple of days, it gave ideas to my Mum to work on another one! My favorite past time, while all this was going on, was to lie down on top of the new, soft cotton Razai (like a bedding), and then get numerous scoldings for flattening out the fluffy cotton! As I got older, and our neighbours shifted from there, it was just Ammi and me who would put the threads. Mostly just her, who would call me incessantly to  needle the thread or would just ask me to give her company as I observed her working, till her cataract allowed. Her fingers often got swollen up, or bled if needle pierced while stitching and whenever I offered to do the stitching she hated them! My lines never went straight, they always zigzagged and my explanation was always, 'its a new design pattern'! But, my perfectionist mother would have none of it! She loved her Razais and wanted perfect lines of stitching on them.

To me the entire process only meant one thing- who would get to use the New Razai? My father (Head of the family, but made no contribution in the making of it, although paid for it), or my brother (who got the cotton filled, but nothing more!) or me (made cups of tea for the Razai stitch Volunteers, cleaned terrace and flattened the new cotton!) or my mother (who did the maximum work, but never used the new one herself!) Often it led to fights between me and my brother and whoever got it, it would make the other to take 'revenge' by jumping/using it like a bedding to make the new fluffy Razai flat! 

Those light, home made, delicate warm Razais are a part of my memories now, like my mother. The things that we use now are commercially made blankets, they do not have the warmth of my mother's fingers and I do not have the luxury of flattening them as they are already too flat!

Kitni asaani se
Khuli ruyi ko
Dhaago se bandh deti thi
Waqt ki sard raat me
Mere din, lamhe, saal sab bikhar gaye
Astar boseeda ho kar phat gaye
Dhaage toot gaye
Koi Mohabbat ki razayi nahi
Jiski garmi me
Main so sakoon!

Sunday 15 May 2016

Education From A Distance


A few days back I received a call from my senior colleague who told me to visit the Distance Center of Education of Jamia as they had some work. They had many assignment copies for checking and needed teachers to check them. Since seniors are often too busy, they refer such tasks to juniors.

Distance mode of education is for students'who for some reason are unable to attend usual regular course' classes. The center has helped many students, since its inception in 2002. The students come from varied backgrounds, but most are quite poor. Students that I had met some of them came from far off areas, could not even afford to travel for regular classes The study material is sent through post, and classes are held on the weekends (Sat-Sun). Some of them did not carry any mobile phones and some were first-generation learners in their families. The class divide is quite visible. 

A colleague from the center told me about students' coming from different parts of India like Kashmir, UP, etc. Also, many girls from Muslim parts of Delhi (Old Delhi, Seelampur, Sangam Vihar, etc) join here. Boys who left their studies mid-way to join family businesses/ shops' and now wanted to pursue their education, and girls' mostly whose families did not allow them to join regular college were regulars here. This was probably the only place that orthodox families allowed girls' to travel to.  Girls' dressed like dolls' for Sat/Sun classes, because probably that is the only time that they are allowed to be on their own and they experience the 'college life', remarked a friend from the Center, . 

The sensitivity of the University administration dealing with these special students' becomes even more important here. Students'defying their families to get themselves educated, changing buses to reach the institute, making numerous rounds of the offices' for small things, calls for a lot of dedication and patience, on the part of both students' and the University. The students' have a confused, scared look on their faces', they need assurance first and problem solving later, explained my friend, who is a part of the administration.    
    
One girl had missed the date for filling the form due to her fathers' by-pass surgery and had come with him to make a request to allow her to sit in the exams. The rules did not allow this year, but next year she could sit for both the exams (could give papers for two years!). So, she could save her academic year. There were many students' who came with different excuses/reasons to request for waking up late to the last date, some even cried buckets for losing out on a year but the consolation was the same, to apply for two years next session.

The assignments' from some of the students looked like carbon copies. Some had copied from internet, from Wikipedia with "citation needed" copied as well! (Internet copying is a universal problem though!). One student had submitted a 230+ page assignment!
(PhD Thesis these days are less lengthy!) 

Students' enthusiasm, overcoming hardships to get a degree is commendable but, apart from degree how much knowledge or learning are they able to get is a different issue. Education with its single focus on the Degree/ passing exams as compared to making the students' understand for learning/knowledge is a dilemma that we struggle with everyday. The insistence on rote learning for getting good grades is usually seen as sufficient!

 When we have debates over University autonomy, issues like ideological debates over Left/Right etc. there are even more basic problems that we need to understand that we take for granted. We need more public universities with better facilities and more scholarships for students'. Recently when I discussed this with a friend, she shared that in her University (Central India) some students' are so poor that they go without food for days'. In the interiors of India problems are even more complex. 

Tuesday 12 April 2016

Raffoogar/ Darner


Woh jo Taar Taar thi Rooh
Raffoogar suna tha hote hain
Kuch aise
Ke laga lete hain
Taanke usme
Aksar pata bhi nahi chalta
Kahan kata
Kahan phata
Kahan toota tha dhaga!

Kitna asaan tha
Dunya se ladna Jana..
Magar
Jab jung khud se ho
Haar bhi apni
Jeet bhi apni
Tab tazyaane* bhi apne   (*drum)
Aur matam bhi apna..

Shiddat ki thakan
Utarti hai rooh me
Aur aise kaari zakham
Ke koi Charagar* (*therapist)
Mudava* bhi na kar sake..  (*cure)

Yun to
Jism par
Kahin koi nishan na tha
Par
Rooh par charke* bade gehre the  (*cuts)

Raffoogar ke paas le gaye
Toh usne hath kheench liya
Nikal liya sui ko dhaage se
Ke Bahut
Taar Taar Thi Rooh!!


Wednesday 6 April 2016

Musings

Ant se ant tak phele
Aasman ki chadar tale
Andheri be-chand raaton me
Soch ki zameen par
Jab bahut duur nikal jayen
Jawabo ke
Sawalo ko talashte
Uljhe uljhe khayalo ko
Ungliyon ki kanghi se suljhate..

Aur maddham si roshni me
Ek saaya
Soch ki sarhad se nikal kar
Poochhhe pyaar se
Haal hamara..

Kya kahein
Bekhudi ki hadd thi
Saaya tha
Ya phir
Aks mera!!

Friday 1 April 2016

Editing Shahjahanabad- An Amateur Director's Confessions on Video I


Dear Editors of the world, you have my respect, hats off to you guys for doing this boring job with such passion!Well, nobody told me what I am going to tell you now- 
Editing Videos is the most tedious job in the world! 

Now coming back to Shahjahanabad, in hindsight it seems it was far easier to just shoot in the crowded market places (if only we could just upload the raw footage), but shot Videos needed editing before public viewing! So, we decided to start with the Sohail Hashmi Sahab's video footage first, and since it was a long video we decided to do it in two parts. One part was the walk focusing on the Shahjahanabad Architecture and the other, the short Jama Masjid narrative by Sohail Hashmi Sahab. My Videographer, was also my Editor, and we decided to start with the shorter Jama Masjid video first. We had a few videos, some images thanks to our brilliant Videographer and Photographer respectively, and the task was to add it with Sohail Sahab's interesting narrative, and Voila, video would be ready for sharing on the site! That cannot be so difficult, thought the gullible me, and I could not have been more wrong!!

 The Videographer, whom I had always treated like a younger brother now in the editor's chair, started by sharing a few of his edited films to watch at home (suitably impressed, but honestly speaking, did not watch any!). The equation was established he was the experienced senior, and I was the junior/inexperienced/amateur! 

We started first things first by inserting the slides with title, logo etc. Now, the narrative started, we heard the narrative and cleared the long pauses, unnecessary details, etc. My homework now, was to go home, see the entire clip, if possible transcribe, see what photo/ video should go where and then come for the next editing session! 
In my defense, my teaching classes were going on, and with mid-semester exams I had piles of answer sheets and assignments to check, thus already overworked, I did not do anything I was asked to do! 

We could only do half sessions on few week days as other half of the day, I was taking my classes,  and the Editor was busy editing other people's videos. I had to take appointments and in our limited time, sometimes the machine would misbehave too (yes, that happens). The mornings were starting too early for me and then stuck in the morning rush hour traffic, it would take me more than one and a half hours to reach office from my home, and if I found out that I had to wait more because machine was not ready or for some other reason, I would get upset! I usually carried some packs of snacks as bribe to keep Editor bhai in good humor, and often finished them myself! At the editing table, I managed to often entangle the wires of the headphone many times, once almost spilled the coffee, I was the fumbling older colleague, who had to hear scolding from the senior!

Sitting and staring at the screen for long hours takes patience along with listening to the narratives over and over again. Often by the third -fourth replay of the video, one memorizes the entire narrative, and it played in the head so much that I even had dreams of messing up the entire thing, and Sohail sahab shouting at me! (Nightmares of an Amateur Director, well that could be the subject of another blog post!)

Next session, I was inquired for the script by the Editor Sahab (Respect, guys!). My reaction was, "What? No way!" I know what Sohail Sahab is explaining, I know all the shot visuals, I can do it! We started putting the images/ videos with the narrative, and the fights started! I was making the Editor sahab go through the pile of images/ videos and then select them, a lengthy process. I would like something, for example, the aerial shot and Editor sahab would reject it, or he would put something to hide the jarring cuts, or some other image and I would dislike it. Sometimes, we argued so much that others had to intervene! Then, Editor sahab gave up, and stopped giving inputs, at first I was happy (no more arguments), but then it started to bother me after a while. What if I was doing it all wrong! 

When Editor Sahab left for his hometown in the Holi holidays, I decided to finish other work like shooting around Jama Masjid for some more of the images with our Photographer, and  putting the captions on the edited photos. I researched where I was unsure of details, wrote beautiful captions (in my opinion, of course!) and dedicated an entire day to it. Finally satisfied with my productivity, I finished 90% of the task in a single day. But SomeOne up at the Heavens wanted me to slog a lot more and so, I accidentally closed the window and since it was a new format for me, forgot to save the work!! Thankfully had a few days off with the Holi holidays and the weekend to shake off the sadma of an entire day's work lost! 

 Post- Holi we were back at work. I was getting teased for my inexperience and also being warned not to turn it into a "shaadi ka type video "! We had become foes from friends' taking digs at each other! The bribe was not working obviously and with my pile of answer sheets to check, I was not getting any time to do any "extra" work. But, we both diligently kept working at it and produced a decent version of the video. We showed it to the rest of the team, who liked/ approved of it with a few suggestions/changes. We thought probably an hour more to refine it and our first Video could go online soon! 

Once you get used to it, the editing process is enjoyable! While finishing a long days' work, Editor sahab finally remarked  at some good sense of judgement that I had shown for some of the images, and said sorry, while I thanked him for all the hard work and apologized for my rude behavior too! We were back to being friends' again (until maybe the next editing session)!
But, he had earned my respect for all the Editor Sahabs of the world for sure :)

Here is the link for Video I
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pgrn3ty3u8o

& the Link for the Sohail Hashmi Sahab's Walk
http://uzmaazharali.blogspot.in/2015/12/shahjahanabad-shooting-with-sir-sohail.html 
    

Friday 25 March 2016

Palm Ka Ped


Tanha akela
Palm ka Ped.. 
Raat ke andhere me 
Uske saaye ghane lagte hain'
Roshni me magar 
sab sach khul jaate hain..

Na saaya ghana 
Na koi phal na phool
Na kisi chidiya ka ashiyana
Na koi mannat ka dhaga
Na musafir ka thikana
Na khazane ka suragh
Bas tan ke khada rehta hai
Itrata hua
Apni shakho ko lehrata hua
Apni zaat ke tilism me gum
Khudi me khush 
Khudi me magan

Aise bhi basar ho sakti hai zindgi
Aur shayad yeh behtar ho zindgi
Na kisi ki ummeed
Na kisi se wasta
Na kisi ko aas
Na kisi ka rasta
Bas
Apni khudi ko maan lo
Phir Khuda se bhi khatam Rabta
Sirf 
Main
aur 
Main ka shehar
Uska Malik main
Uski Makhlooq bhi main
Munsif, Muddayi
sirf 
Main
Tanha bhi Main
Saathi bhi Main
Tum bhi Main
Aur 
Aap bhi Main

Woh
Palm ka ped 
Itna bhi tanha
Nahi Shayad.....

Beedi Peeti Aurat

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