नगमे - 4

".........सलाम भेजता है शायर हुस्न के नाम" - फैज़ अहमद फैज़

Each one of us is a poet. There is not a moment left when we are not poetic. We do poetry through our mannerisms - the way we talk, the way we carry ourselves, the way we get irritated, the ways we get pleased, our habits even the annoying ones, the way we react to a situation ... etc etc. Not only when we are ourselves, create poetry, but, we create poetry when we interact with other human beings. The situations we invent and the situations in which we land ourselves in, create poetry.

To me, Men, in their mannerisms are poetic outside the bounds of poetry. When they try to come within the bounds of poetry they create Drama. Women, in their mannerisms are in itself poetry. When they try to leave the bounds of poetry they become more poetic.

What fascinates me is the fact that it does not take much to observe the poetry essayed by the humanity. The visual senses are all you need. Bear in mind, the necessary condition to "observe" and for the power of observation to be manifested is the respect for the subject of your observation. Thus I would not go into it in more details than the mere mention of it.

In the following poem the main ingredients are my observations of the men and women alike. Though it praises the later kind. However the following facts adds to its countenance.

Fact-1 : Ever since I heard, I always wanted to write something on the lines of the song "एक लड़की को देखा तो एसा लगा ..." from movie "1942 A Love Story" and written by great poet जावेद अख्तर.

Fact-2: When I first left my home and went Indore M.P. to study Statistics. I observed that the girls in college and even the girls in my class when they drive they cover their faces with scarf, to escape from sun and dust I suppose. This was very appealing to my poetic instincts and I wanted to make use of it in some poetry of mine.

Fact-3: Though in India, women wearing bindi on their forehead is common sight - Bindi's of various colors, shapes and sizes. It was the teeka of rori/kumkum that they wear on their forehead mostly after performing some pooja or returning from temple, that fascinated my poetic instincts. It gives a complete distinct effect on the face than the bindi. The face appears more radiant with marked tender grace ... etc etc :)

Fact-4: What you are about to read, it never happened to me. The wish, that I won't even carry to my grave, being a Hindu I will be burnt to ashes and the wish with me... Ha Ha (I guess I had to go to a Europe visit the DDLJ style..... :) )

Well, fact-1 gave me the structure of the poem and fact 2&3 gave me the first 5 lines of the poem and I hit the dead end. What about the rest? and all those thoughts of writing a long poem suddenly evaporated. I attempted to write this poem when I was in Pune and the sight of girls covering their faces with scarf was not frequent if not rare. While my commute, in taxis/buses between home and work I started again to look for any such sight :) and wished (honestly) that some action of them might give a thrust to my poem beyond those 5 lines.

Well off course it never happened and it took a while to stretch my imagination beyond my such inexperience's to grow the poem to a point.

I recited this poem in one of the annual functions of my company. Enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it.

कोई लड़की दुपट्टे में चेहरा छुपाये,
थी बढ़ी आ रही, दो आँखों की लावें जलाये,
महकती, लहकती वो धड़कती हरारत,
कोई जैसे पूजा में सुबह लोभान जलाये।

वो सुबह के सूरज का माथे पे टीका,
जैसे पीर जबीं पे दुआ रख के निकला,
थी गर्दन झुकी और ऑंखें जमीं पर,
जैसे सज्ज्दों से नमाजी माथे को उठाये।

वो चली आ रही थी अजान की सूरत,
उठे दिल से अरमां नमाजी की सूरत,
उसे पढने लगी ऑंखें दुआओं की सूरत,
जैसे काजी मदरसों में आयते बुलवाये।

ज़िन्दगी से जैसे मुलाकात थी वो,
कज़ा भी जिला दे वो हयात थी वो,
दो चार कदम ही तो दूर थी वो,
क्यों रह गया मिलते ही में नज़र झुकाये।

वो आँखों से आँखें मिलाने की कोशिश,
एक इन्सां को इन्सां जताने की कोशिश,
वो देखते ही मुह फेर लेने की कोशिश,
जैसे निकले काबे से काफिर नज़र चुराये।

वहीं है रास्ते औंधे मुह पड़े हुए,
वहीं है हम हसरत से खड़े हुए,
साये मिटते नही पे गुमां को यकीं है,
वो फिर आ रही है, दो आँखों की लावें जलाये।