Spectator

मन की बात

2016-04-25T23:26:00.001+05:30

भाग १

दिल जिसे कह ना सका

अगर बात करें तो फ़ालतू ही लगेगी। मगर बात तो थी। दस साल पहले की । मुझे तो ऐतिहासिक जान पड़ रही है । जी मैं उस दौर की बात कर रहा हूँ जब बॉलीवुड को गोविन्दा की चटख और अटपटे परिधानों से निजात मिली । ज़्यादा घुमाना अब ठीक ना रहेगा । आज से दस साल पहले मैंने कॉलेज यानी महाविद्यालय में दाख़िला पाया । स्वाभाविक है जवान था स्फूर्ति थी, मासूमियत और ख़ुद की अहमियत थी । मैंने कॉलेज में दाख़िला लिया । कॉलेज कर्मों के अनुरूप मिला । दक्षिण भारत के इष्ट देव श्री वेंकटेश्वर के नाम से। प्यार से इसे 'वेंकि' पुचकारते थे और हैं ।

मुझे उस ज़माने ने बहुत से भौतिक सुख सुविधाओं से अलग रखा। फर्ज़ के लिए snapdragon ५१० चिप्सेट, ५ इंच hd, २ gb रैम युक्त फ़ोन, स्टाइलिश कपड़े, फ़लाँ फ़लाँ । कुल मिलाकर स्कूल बदला लेकिन जीवन kucchu की तरह रह गया । अंकल वाले कपड़ों जैसा ड्रेसिंग सेन्स, आनंद कम्पनी उद्योग विहार, पीरगढ़ी के वो जूते और बारहवीं कक्षा से जैसे तैसे बचा हुआ वो बैग। इनका साथ कॉलेज में भी ना छूट सका।

ख़ैर!

कॉलेज के जीवन में दो रोचक प्रसंग हुए और दोनों हास्यास्पद। ज्ञात रहे प्रेम प्रसंग से ज़िंदगी अनिभिज्ञ रही । सीन - कॉलेज कॉरिडर, क्लास रूम से बाहर । मैं दोस्त से बतिया रहा था की जीवन स्कूल में कितना सरल था । यहाँ कॉलेज में कोई पूछता ही नहीं। वो दोस्त भी बेचार्गी में हूँ हूँ करने को बाधित था। करे तो क्या करे? कौन उसे सुनेगा? आख़िर कुंठा तो दोनों की ही थी। सो फ़र्ज़ भी दोनों का बनता था कि सुख दुःख बाँटें। हमें क्लास में कोई पहचानता नहीं था । हमारा कोई वजूद ना था । हमारा आना ना आने के बराबर था । आगे की पंक्ति में ना बैठना स्कूल से ही सीखा था । क़ुर्बान थी वो कुर्सियाँ मेधावी छात्रों के लिए । पीछे बैठकर बस ये देखना का मन करता था की प्रफ़ेसर हमें ना देखे।

फिर भटक गया!

मैं दोस्त से बतिया रहा था की - एक मधुर कोमल आवाज़ ने मेरी रूह में जान भर दी । देखा। लड़की थी । ख़ूबसूरत। ज़िंदगी कामयाब लगने लगी। साथ पढ़कर भी अनजान थे ।

लड़की की आवाज़ - Hi! My name is X ( पहचान की पुष्टि ना हो) you are also in (Hons.) ? If sir come could you please give me a miss call?

मन की आवाज़ - (same timing) क्या ?? मिस कॉल? मोबाइल नहीं है :-( लड़की है सामने बोल दे .....

असली आवाज़ - Hi! Actually I would have (बस यहीं तक फ़्लूयंट आती है English).....लेकिन मेरे पास मोबाइल नहीं है :-( if you don't mind (फिर English में ) just give me your mobile number I will call you from local PCO near the canteen.

Ha ha ha ......

उसके बाद फिर दुबारा बात नहीं हुई ।

भाग २

हनुमान दर्शन

कॉलेज शुरू हुआ तो दोस्तों से टिप्स भी मिलने लगी की कैसे पैसे बचाएँ । मर्द होने की क़वायद शुरू हो गयी थी । एक नया जुमला मिला स्टाफ़ बोलने का । कॉलेज स्टाफ़ । इसका इस्तेमाल बस में टिकट ना लेने के लिए किया जाता था । वर्तमान में इसकी स्थिति अज्ञात है। फ़र्ज़ी अकड़ के साथ टिकट लेने से सीधा सीधा इनकार कर देना ही स्टाफ़ था । illegal। इसमें दो परिस्थिति बनती थी या तो कंडक्टर लड़ झगड़ के मान जाते थे या फिर मार पीट की नौबत आती थी । पलड़ा ज़्यादातर स्टाफ़ थोपने वाले का भारी हो जाता । मेरी कहानी इसके ठीक विपरीत थी । मैं शरीर से औसत था । मेरी क़ुदरती आवाज़ कोमल थी । दबंगई कोसों दूर थी । बचपन में भैंस के घी का सेवन ज़्यादा ना कर पाना शायद एक वजह थी । क़द काठी भी भीड़ में ओझल होने लायक थी ।

सीधा सीन पे आता हूँ

Location - Bus Terminal, Uttam Nagar

Day - मंगलवार

Time - 7:40 am approximate

नज़र उठायी और पढ़ा - 724 Nehru Place via Dhaula Kuan

Blue line bus

अंदर गया । भीड़ ज़्यादा नहीं थी । बाँयी ओर देखा एक तगड़ा आदमी अगरबत्ती जला रहा था । शायद कंडक्टर था ।आँखें बंद करके मन ही मन बुदबुदा रहा था की ईश्वर दिन अच्छा जाए, बरकत हो । जय माँ अम्बे। साईं नाथ। ठीक ऊपर एक लंगोट बाबा की तस्वीर थी। कान पे हाथ लगा के उसने

टिकट लेने की कार्यवाही शुरू कर दी । मैंने सबसे आखिरी पंक्ति वाली सीट को उपयुक्त पाया । दिन मंगलवार था । आज पापा की बीस साल पुरानी स्वेटर पहन के आया था । बॉब्लिंग नहीं हुई । शीशा देखा था तो जंच रहा था । बाक़ी भ्रम था । इस बस में मैं केवल दस रुपए बचाने के लिए बैठा था । दिमाग़ में काफ़ी सीन पहले ही इमैजिन कर लिए थे ।

आख़िर कंडक्टर पहुँच ही गया मेरे पास

डरना नहीं ..... ना

हाँ भाई टिकट बोलिय्ये?

स्टाफ़ है

स्टाफ़????? के बात का स्टाफ़ से ?

कालिज का

कौन से कॉलेज का ?? के में पड़े से ?

अम म्म हम्म.....

आवाज़ नहीं निकली । दबंगई नहीं दिखा पाया

साढ़े मार मार के भूत बना दूँगा निकड यहाँ से ।

इससे पहले मैं कुछ हरकत करता मेरी पापा की स्वेटर कब खिंच गयी पता ना चला । स्वप्न सा लगने लगा । आख़िरी सीट से मैं कब लंगोट बाबा की तस्वीर के पास आ गया पता ही ना चला।

साढ़े हनुमान नाम सै

मार मार के चाम निकाड दूँगा स्टाफ़ की बकवास करि ते समझया??

बदमाश बन्ने से । दुबारा ना दिख्ये। भाज जा।

पूरी बस में सन्नाटा पसर गया । कॉलेज की लड़कियों ने earphones और मोबाइल phones बंद कर दिए की कौन है ये कंजर? जो दस रुपए के लिए स्टाफ़ की दुहाई दे रहा है ? मैं शर्मसार हो चुका था । हनुमान की भक्ति और उसकी कलाइयों की शक्ति मुझे झकझोर चुकी थी । अब तक पापा की स्वेटर सचमुच पापा के लायक दिखने लगी । उसका खिंचा हुआ बाजु भी मेरी आज बेज़्ज़ती कर रहा था।

यकायक एक मौक़ा परस्त अवतरित हुआ और मेरे हाथ में उसने दस रुपए थमाए और बोला भाई ये ले दस रुपए टिकट ले ले औरों का समय बर्बाद ना कर । ऐसी on the स्पॉट परीक्षा के लिए मैं तैयार ना था । मन की आवाज़ और मेरा प्रतिबिम्ब ने मुझे झटपट सीन से आउट होने को कहा । लज्जित और असहाय मैं दूसरी तरफ़ चला गया । सामने देखा दिल्ली परिवहन की बस खड़ी है । मैंने प्रवेश किया वहाँ कंडक्टर के हाथ में दस रुपए थमाए और एकाएक आत्मविश्वास के साथ बोला

धौला कुआँ ।

The Google Maps : Companion.

2016-01-03T14:14:00.001+05:30

It was the 1st day of year 2016. A new year. Happy New Year.

And my friend all of a sudden called me, and requested to make atleast one visit to his house. This visit was one of the most anticipated one. Not because of it was being carried out by me for the first time. But, because of me being adamant to visit friends' houses frequently, as societal norms. Before hanging up, my friend asked me - "route to pata hai na?" (Are you aware of route?). I said -"Ya! Ya! I will be there by 6pm, make some good arrangement for drinks"

....................................

Now, here was the word that I skipped during the conversation was "Route"

Route I know (Really?) Last time I went. Have to take straight road, then on the roundabout has to make a first exit. Then further to Subhramaniyam marg, and....umm..roundabout again comes...😁 then?? I am not sure, I was not sure.

But I will take it as a challenge, I saw clock it was 3pm. Still 3 hours.

.................................

Saw the clock - 4:30pm. Yeah the right time to start, given the traffic situation. Started the bike, and raced away. Now I was on road, familiar one. But, the challenge was coming, and started the series of roundabouts and exits. And shit! I did take a wrong exit, now will have to make an entire parikama (circumambulation). Better I behave smartly. I took out my mobile phone, clicked on the Google map icon, entered my location and destination. Few moments of processing, and the navigation route along with the Indian version voice of female greeted me. I inserted the jack of my headphones into themobile. And voila! Turn by turn I was guided, I made right exits, I travelled 400mtrs before making a U turn, I travelled 3kms and stayed on the same road as guided by the voice navigation. I stayed on where I was supposed to be.

......................

5:45pm

"Your destination is on the left hand side."

The Google voice made an exit.

I reached the destination, smoothly.Which has not been possible by manual guidance or going by my sixth sense.

😎

Bald Confessions

2015-09-26T19:07:00.003+05:30

Bald confession

Well, not a boring long story. As you have seen or read somewhere. Its about me again. I am the protagonist. It happened, I felt the hairline was receding. And god! Greying too. My pride and my crown was depleting. I didn't complete my 30s and I was still, unmarried. And here, I was preoccupied with my thoughts and thoughts of others.

I was worried, all I can say.

In our lives there comes a moment when we have conversation diaoherea, when people loses subject to discuss, and comes the filler topic of personal front -physical appearances. And it's universal, as far my experience goes. The scapegoat is the already depressed (read: bald), who has been escaping since long when you people exchanged hi and hellos at some get together; to not be a centre of discussion, even remotely.

But is unlucky.

On a positive note some even help you, or at least show they are. And topic of hair fall is ubiquitous. It will pop in some how. It's curious case of hair fall. And mind you, these sympathetic souls have full crop of hair, they even brush their hair or get them set with their fingers lingering in front of you and on top of it; to comfort you with that scornful line - 'don't worry'. And matter becomes interesting with them sharing their brother's or some distant relatives' bitter experience of hair fall. And flows suggestions and remedies from vouching treatments; Homeopathy, Ayurvedic, Yunani (Greek) or English medicines to hairoils.

And those who got some wrong impression of me being rich just because I paid for their burger and coke at some restaurant, even suggested some laser surgery where they put a fresh permanent crop of hair in your bald, patchy head.

Woes doesn't end here, it infringes your personal space, where you are being attacked directly by some superficial matters and their solutions. It happened recently and I lament why. While surfing the idiot box, my attention was caught by a hurriedly made full 40 mins TV commercial where some people from neighbourhood country who were facing the baldness problems were blaring out of their achievement. The dramatic commercial had all stupidity of acting and picturisation, the victims (actors) were being looked down for the mistakes which was not theirs - baldness.

It was funny for me, because whole commercial was made in a such a superficial way, and dubbed to Hindi language, to sympathise and laugh at baldness globally. To keep me glued a beautiful girl kept popping intermittently by caressing the hair of smart man. Then a man in a doctor's universal white robe and stethoscope kept telling greatness of science and miraculous feat by this xyz company, the oil which when applied, delivered results - unbelievable hair in six days (more than what cricketer Sachin Tendulkar used to have in his youthful days). And yes if visuals didn't make me fool, the bald man shown there was laughing his ass out in next frames.

On a peaceful, rainy night, I thought why so much of stress on colour of Skin, Hair, Height and looks. Why they are the only leftover traits of one's personality? Are we not getting over obsessed with outer shine only.Taking care of self is one thing but getting over obsessed with it. No. Why I am so bothered about cosmetic enhancement of my identity, when perhaps I can accentuate my other aspects. I felt our karma makes us charismatic, lovable and beautiful. And to a large extent outer appearance is momentary delusion, which gets justified the moment we rise, the moment we speak.

And baldness is sexy too.

Attached image, for your reference.

Here. No hair.

The MOBILE artist

2015-01-06T21:18:00.002+05:30

The MOBILE artist

Disclaimer : intentional boasting of my art work maybe palpable in the following columns.

Dear Reader,

They say art and artist are born and not made. So in my case you can follow the dictum - 'self praise is my recommendation' because I have become a momentary artist, a new found hobby. Indeed artists are born and not made. Each one of us have some hidden art or talent and artist inside us. From doodling into last page of my notebook or diary to recent know how of mobile art, it has been a very short journey in quick succession. i have never been a good artist. There has been several reasons for it and to blame for. The first, i would blame is the 14 inch black & white television for 17 years which tortured my psyche during my childhood. It got reflected in my art classes, during primary schooling I doodled more with black strokes (pencil colours, crayon or poster colour, more black) :)

So, my art world was more black and white. my eyes became reluctant to accept the fact that a thatched roof mud house is not just a monotonous block but has colours like brown, yellow, green and intricate work of bhitichitra or so. It used to be same house with straws of palm and repetition. Then painting with theme - NATURE, used to be that predictable mountains, with center having a rising sun, clouds (they didn't require any symmetry so were perfectly etched by me) followed by emerging spiral shape river and grassland. Art and classes or hobbies were just limited to the the above mentioned themes. It continued. all other colours were simply waste for me. just black - pencil, crayon or poster colour. It irritated my art teacher so much that he teared that drawing sheet - out of frustration, because he felt a strange rebel and protest in my nonsense work. And as secondary level of education started, the weight of books took more burden on mind. With studies and other temptations, so called freedom of expression - the art, took backseat.

It was rediscovered only in November of last year, but in colour form. It was the canvas of 4" TFT screen with options of colours and eraser. Accidentally, i put some Cris-cross on my mobile phone's touch screen and found something sensible taking shape. i filled colours and it confirmed that i was not colour blind, as perceived by me more more than 27 years of my existence on the blue planet. The more I stroked the screen, some figures appeared and later realised that eureka! artist inside me was evolving. i named it the mobile artist. A novice like me is just an ounce in an ocean of art inclined hearts, out there. Let us see how far this new found hobby continues, because temptations are momentary, i guess.

A Village Woman

Promises Unfulfilled - My Heart will go on

The Reflection

Give Wings - Ride Carefree

The Unknown Child - RIP (16th December 2014 Pakistan Army School Massacre)

जननी

2014-10-09T21:09:00.002+05:30

जननी

आँचल के छाँव से दूर और
भूली हुई लोरियों से ना कभी का वास्ता
प्रतिबिम्भ कल्पनाओं से भी परे
ना तेरे वात्सल्य प्रेम की सुगंध से
है जननी तू मेरी अनेक अभेद मर्म से।

कई बसंत संग जो बीत गए
केश रंग भी तो उड़ गये
दरारों से पट चुका अब तेरा ये बेजान चेहरा
और नसों का निरंतर सिकुड़ना
फिर भी 'खोखली' मुस्कान में तेरी
आज भी निश्छल खरा वही सुकून है

तेरी कामनाओं में मेरी जीत है
मैं तो बस एक उम्मीद हूँ तेरी

तेरा ये 'लालमणि'

Far from the comfort of your love
and from your forgettable lullabies
distant from the imagination
and from your unconditional affection
you are my mother - a synonym of hardships

several years have gone so fast
even your hair now seems to be dull
with a face full of destiny lines
old and calm your veins now seems shrunk
then again your smile have not lost the charm
to console your child
it's same as it was before, sweet and predictable

your blessings always makes me win
as am just a hope for you

your son 'laalmani'

A Beautiful Mind

2014-10-05T19:07:00.001+05:30

From the broken pieces of our past
And till the time I breath my last
You will be remembered, every moment
My sweet angel, sweet lovable sweetheart

From the embraces to the kisses of souls
We have moved together
From the disagreements and your complains
We have rised together
And see..
I don't speak that much in your silence
But the moment says to clasp firmly
Because we are meant to be together, forever.

अग्नि परीक्षा

2014-07-29T13:20:00.001+05:30

अग्नि परीक्षा

मान भी लें

वक़्त तुम्हारे साथ नहीं
और पहले से हालात नहीं
पर जो तुम थमकर रुक गए
दफ़न 'उम्मीद' वहीं तुम जम गए।

हर बात पर जो तुम झुक रहे
और कहने से तुम रुक रहे
यह बात है तुम्हारी दीक्षा
चुनौतियों की है अग्निपरीक्षा
जो खिल गए तो बसंत हो
नीरस पतझड़ का अंत हो।

वहम दिल का जो फ़ितूर है
लक्ष्य बस वहीं तक का दूर है
सीढ़ियाँ ले संग जो अपना सगा है
उसी ने तो दिल को तेरे ठगा है।

दहकता तेरा रोष सही और
भभकती तपिश कहे यही
एकल तू अजेय फ़ौज है
असंख्य लहरों की मौज है
टीस भरे उन्माद का
और चोटिल तेरे हर ज़ज्बात का
होती रहेगी यूं अग्निपरीक्षा।।

- हरीश बेंजवाल

कागज़ के फूल

2014-05-10T07:25:00.000+05:30

काग़ज़ के फ़ूल

बसंत के फ़ूल महक गये

सावन की चिड़िया चहक गयी

खिलने की अब बाट जोह रहे

हैं तो बस कागज़ के फूल।

पंखुड़ियों को मर्म का भेद नहीं

बेज़ान कली को खेद नहीं,

सुगंध अब जो फ़ैल रही,

औकात है तो बस इसी की

और बात जो है, बस इसी की।

धूल धूसरित जो हो रहे थे तब

और बिख़र रही महक जूही की अब

कल्पनाओं कि खाद मांग कर,

उमंगों भरी जान डालकर।

सहेज रहा हूं कोस रहा हूँ

हर पल मैं अपने अनुकूल,

हैं तो बस कागज़ के फ़ूल।

- हरीश बेंजवाल

रात का मुसाफ़िर

2013-11-30T22:31:00.002+05:30

रात का मुसाफ़िर

सर्द हवा की चुभन से
बढ़ रहे हौसले मेरे,
स्वप्न है या नींद में
एकांत में कभी भीड़ में
चल रहा हुँ इस उम्मीद में
कि मुसाफिर हुँ रात का।

पिछड़ गया रफ़्तार से
निकल गया तकरार से
और मुक्त हुँ भीख मांगती निगाओं की
अपेक्षाओं के बौछार से
चल रहा हुँ इस उम्मीद में
कि मुसाफिर हुँ ज़ज्बात का।

- हरीश बेंजवा

Harmonium - Disharmony!

2013-09-04T22:55:00.002+05:30

Harmonium - Disharmony!

Naah! am not criticizing western music or its instruments with this peti (Harmonium). Am not a crusader. This episode revolves around my training days to learn guitar(i didn't perfect it yet). With childlike curiosity i came to know some International Guitar Coaching center has been opened in my neighbourhood. As the prefix had international, mind got attracted that I will learn some international technique. One fine day I went to the International Center. There was a dark glass door, to give it some mysterious look. I entered and saw a thin mid aged man (Mr. X) sitting on a revolving chair, i guess he was revolving for several hours, as i just saw him. With one x-ray i thought he was the attendant given his outlook and acts (revolving) but was blown away with the american accent 'Hello!'. I got nervous as i didn't expect from this poor looking, malnourished man to say with that elan.

I murmured - "Hello! Sir. I have come here to enquire about guitar coaching". Mr.X replied - "Yeeah! we teach guitar. Acoustic, Electric, Hawaiian, Piano and so. What's your choice?" I was in split because for me learning instrument was new thing and i loved if Harmonium was also there. And why not being from a humble background where music loving father pursued to learn Harmonium in any point of life, which was a real instrument in his views. The pain came out and I naively asked - "Sir, well actually my dad wanted me to learn harmonium as well..sa.re..ga..ma..paaa...will it be ok to learn ustaad's choice over western instru.."

Before i could finish my line Mr. X vehemently protested - "Harmonium??? Do you call it a instrument?? Do you find it melodious? Don't you think it is played in Mehfils, Bhajans & that monotonous ghazal concerts? Quite outdated.And buddy you can't woo girls. It's not cool actually".

And there - my sentiments were hurt. My heart was broken. Leaving all nonsense, cool-dude factors aside. My heart asked - "Harmonium is not a instrument? What this chap is saying? It's not melodious, outdated, bland boring. How come?? Is this his final limitation of understanding music that makes him to disregard harmonium, its existence in one plain shot?"

(Mr. X - musical instruments, whatever they are, is a blessing to mankind to soothe oneself, to enjoy playing and listening to them. They are incomparable to one another. Each shining out in the music where they have been put as Soul not as filler. And here you are criticizing Harmonium for none of its mistake. Ok it looks like a peti, but that doesn't stop it to create melody. Mr. X if you want to relax your veins check out - Chitthi aayi hai (Pankaj Udas) Badi Nazuk hai manzil (Jagjit Singh), Kun faaya kun (AR Rahman), Arziyan (Javed Ali), Kajra mohbbat wala (Asha Bhosle) and many many more whose soul has been Harmonium. How these songs become defunct? Mr. X with your blunt reply I must clarify that the sound of Harmonium is equally heart touching, divine if not momentary romantic. And in many villages,still today, it is the sound of harmonium that raises the spirit of tired faces. No instrument is superior over others. It's just the creative implementation of them. Be it guitar on Summer of 69, Jeene ke ishaare mil gaye, the Sehnai of Ye jo des hai tera (Swades), Shubhaarambh and so.)

Simply, they can't be replaced with other instruments. Because music is loved if it has a soul and

...soul, is irreplaceable!

I left the place...

- Harish Benjwal

Time Favours Me!

2013-09-02T21:32:00.001+05:30

Time Favours Me!

रात में चिरागों सी जलती

है कुछ इस तरह तुम्हारी बात

उम्मीदों के परवान लौ में

बीत रही रात।

हौसला भी आज नुमाइश की बाट जोहे

कर रहा है कुछ फ़ितूर दिल में,

बात जो बढ़े अब या तब से

हाल का मेरा वो फ़रमान पढ़ दें

क्यूंकि वक़्त है मेहरबान मुझ पे।

(This night ascends,
And the hope pretends,
The guts are in full spirit,
in some mischievous...
Your talks goes on
My scroll of heart you can declare,
As time favors me here..)

- Harish Benjwal

I wish Freedom!

2013-08-15T11:46:00.000+05:30

I wish Freedom!

An urchin watching a ragpicker. Maybe freedom in his mind. Photo : Harish Benjwal

Happy Independence Day to all!

Yes! we turned 66th last midnight only. Great. If one starts going into memory lane he/she will learn that indeed a very long phase has just passed. The clarity of events on the fateful day of 15th August 1947 has gone into the feeble snapshots of black and white photographs, films and audio. It seems that the time was old and the days used to be dry, colourless. None of us, of present generation can relate with that era. It's difficult for us.

I remember my school days and the Independence Day as an eventful day-half day. That time we used to assemble in school premises, and after flag hoisting, cultural programmes and concluding national anthem, we used to get sweets (laddoos). The two laddoos used to be a very great thing, as they were the prized possession, of one of the day of the week, of a year that was beyond the regular schedule of academics or rot learning. For me the meaning of Independence was limited to the programmes, remembering or recognising khadi clad great leaders, sweets and yes half day!

The college days was beyond the shackles of festivity of a day, of national importance. Neither anyone was interested. I was not an exception. I don't have any memory that what our college used to do on this day? or what they do now? The NCC (National Cadet Corps) had few takers, and who were in it (by their own accord or compulsion) were from humble background of villages. I guess as the school uniforms were gone, no time regulation, no eye on us so maybe we achieved Independence by going to college. It was a gazetted holiday.

Now that i work hard, i earn and sacrifice my time and day, for me Independence day is a much needed holiday. I don't watch periodic/patriotism movie, because that make me sad. Not because of the sufferings of our freedom fighters but because of the dreams like bubble which they had. 66 years and there is still a lot to be achieved.

Today, I felt to write, and am here with a proposal to the nation that instead of celebrating 15th August as a customary Independence Day, it should be changed into 'Action Day' after assessing the past year performance in sectors like, social, economic, education, health, science and technology, arts and culture and sports. This will help us to move ahead, by not going behind.

What Independence means to me now?

For me Independence is clarity of thoughts and maturity of it in our code of conduct/s.

For me Independence means to choose a career of choice with the government backing and financing our ambitions.

I will be happy when....

We will get Independence from this archaic law of 'Reservation'.

I will be the most content person if the word 'Secular' mentioned in our Constitution is respected not verbally but in practicality too by every single citizen of India.

I will be the proud Indian when India will outshine the other countries in event like Olympic Games.

My tears will be unstoppable, in happiness when the brain drain will stop and our IITians, Doctors will come back to Swades. Their motherland needs them.

and i will die happily the day when i will see...

the educated, intellectual youth leading India!

Jai Hind!

Harish Benjwal
Delhi

Dichotomy of love

2012-08-01T22:24:00.001+05:30

Image Courtesy : clker.com

Dichotomy of Love

Your reasons and
your arguments,
I wonder how stupid
am I not to understand
them, and you follow...

You need comfort,
you need the love
and me to be near
to clasp you tightly.

You will not talk,
and will turn moody,
you making faces..
for the unknown reasons
known just to you.

And then that touch of
yours make me feel,
how meaningful am here
to someone, who wants
to cuddle me, care and love
me without any reasons

maybe it is...
the dichotomy of love

- Harish Benjwal

फ़ुहार

2012-07-06T21:23:00.002+05:30

Image Courtesy : clker.com

फ़ुहार

है तो ये बारिश की फ़ुहार
जो बरसी आज यूँ बरबस
आँखों की इस तपिश को
कौंध से बेबस कर.

उड़ती हुई धूल के ये भंवर
थे जो कुछ आक्रोश में
भीगती भरती हुई नालियों
संग, अब तो हैसियत खामोश है.

कई रातों की करवटें
बदली हैं जो इस पल
शायद कई तो मैं भूल गया
भूलता हूँ क्यूँ मैं सरल?

बंधा हुआ आज सब ये तुम, समय
और पहलुओं की जो रात
थमी जरूर है, कुछ वक़्त तो दो
फिर जमेगी ये बरसात.

मन तो है कुछ भीगने का
संकोच पर जो मन का है
बूँद गिरी हैं जो आँख पर,
बस उन्ही का तो भ्रम हैं .

- हरीश बेंजवाल

Jugalbandi

2012-07-02T22:50:00.000+05:30

Jugalbandi : Phoolon ke Rang Se....

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=460342600643408

It was just a meet and the company of a guitar, i along with Manish Nailwal started singing casually and strumming. and later realized the 'Jugalbandi' went very good....maybe coke studio in wait! :)

the song lyrics are :

फूलों के रंग से, दिल की कलम से, तुझ को लिखी रोज पाती
कैसे बताऊँ किस किस तरह से, पल पल मुझे तू सताती

तेरे ही सपने लेकर के सोया, तेरे ही यादों में जागा
तेरे ख्यालों में उलझा रहा यूं जैसे के माला में धागा

बादल बिजली चन्दन पानी, जैसा अपना प्यार
लेना होगा जनम हमे कई कई बार
इतना मदिर, इतना मधुर तेरा मेरा प्यार
लेना होगा जनम हमे कई कई बार

साँसों की सरगम धड़कन की वीणा, सपनों की गीतांजली तू
मन की गली में महके जो हरदम ऐसी जूही की कली तू
छोटा सफ़र हो, लंबा सफ़र हो, सूनी डगर हो या मेला
याद तू आये, मन हो जाए, भीड़ के बीच अकेला
बादल बिजली चन्दन पानी, जैसा अपना प्यार.. ..
लेना होगा जनम हमे कई कई बार

(Hindi lyrics courtesy : http://geetmanjusha.com/hindi/lyrics/10.html)

Lyricist
- Neeraj
Singer
- Kishor Kumar
Music Director
- Sachindev Burman
Movie
- Prem Pujari - 1970

P.S. Do tell me did you like it?

American Center

2012-04-13T21:03:00.001+05:30

My essay got published.

http://span.state.gov/mar-apr2012/eng/award-for-american-studies-benjwal.html

Wheels of Fortune

2012-04-09T21:01:00.001+05:30

Image Courtesy : clipart-for-free.blogspot.com

Wheels of Fortune : Dilemma sorted out!

No! It’s not vicious circle, or back-to-the-basics type of story. It was just because of the ‘Necessity’ that I purchased the zero-emission bicycle. It was after 14 years I rode a cycle. People progress from bicycle to motorcycle and to car and so. And here I was feeling proud of this cycle. Why shouldn’t I? After all am contributing a bit towards the environment by riding a noise free, maintenance free, and fuel free bike. What you think? Well, that is a bit of boasting and some consoling of heart at the same time. Kya motorcycle milti to main wo na leta? Hai na? ajeeb baat karta hai. Yes, I would have purchased a bike. But then that didn’t make sense to me. Neither I had an urgent need (Necessity, remember?) for present. Emergency was a different aspect. I purchased the cycle for several good purposes: to go to-and-fro to the nearby market, post office, bank, to meet neighborhood friend, to do some strength building exercise by challenging myself for long haul and to remain calm happy.

So, the purchase of the bicycle was a worth buy and equally entertaining. Before zeroing on this Indian make cycle I was under the spell of a foreign make for which I made up mind and fatten the wallet. I went to the showroom with anxiousness and asked the representative there for the price of the bike. He told me the details and clarified that there was no warranty from the showroom side, no services, no accessories. My heart was bleeding with the one by one announcements of the representative. I asked what about the basic accessories. He replied: “Sir that you will have to purchase separately”. That means investment of uncertainty. After five minutes of introspection, my heart replied reluctantly: “NO”.

I went out in search of some Indian make to console my heart. And from the gleam of a well designed showroom I went to the shop of an Indian bicycle’ leading brand. And here I found some peace of mind. For the very first reason that the dealer asked: Bhaai sahab kiske liye cycle chahiye? I said: “mere liye bhaai kyun?” the dealer replied that generally people like you who are doing some job are going towards motorbikes, and cars. Before I could reply he directed his mechanic: “oye sun bhaai ke liye godown se bike nikaal ke laa. Bhaai ko Gym jaane ke liye chahiye” (now I don’t know from where he brought the self-concocted Gym aspect). But I smiled. I told him about the showroom, he jeered and said “bhaai wo log apni cycle hamare yahan se theek karwaate hain. nahin bikne waali cycle unki, dekhna. bade aaye bideshi”. I nodded. He asked : "Bhaai garam-thanda-chaai kuch? This was something I didn’t hear in the showroom. Marketing difference of heart we can say. I thanked him.

It took nearly one and half hour to the mechanic to properly assemble each nut & bolt of the machine. I watched patiently. And then the ride came, the tension free ride. In seconds I was away from the bustling market, from the noise. Riding a bicycle after 14 years was so exhilarating. It’s beyond any word/s’ frame. The very first day I rode the cycle for 10kms. And it was peaceful. And imaginary reflection of Harish Benjwal in front of me gave a thumbs up!

- Harish Benjwal

Internet World

2012-03-24T21:42:00.000+05:30

Image Courtesy : www.computerclipart.com

Internet World: The baby steps!

School tried to teach me the ABC of computer, internet and other aspects of it. And I was never interested in big heavy words like DOS, Commands, Word, Office, Paint blah blah. Common yaar! They are stagnant things. Just like dictionaries. Those concepts were never interesting, just a pain to even look at them. Look at the Internet always buzzing, happening. There was Lot of stuffs for everyone.

But use of Internet was banned for us in the school. And many of us used to get caught by the teacher for accessing it. And then the stern look of the teacher, as there exist no such word called CURIOSITY. We used mellow down like a helpless lamb. So this was how the Internet world remained an area of curiosity for me.

Then I got a simple Nokia mobile phone with facility of GPRS. Now what was this GPRS I didn’t know at first, then I opened the manual and there I found that it was something related to the Internet accessibility on mobile? How it would look, feel to access internet on mobile? And is it true or just hearsay? Then unknowingly I pressed the internet button on my phone and there, I was for the first time with a small page, opened on my cell. It was slow, very slow, but the page was there. Then the next page I opened was FACEBOOK. And yes! It opened though with very small fonts, thumbnail pictures/images. So, I learnt that internet is a very alive world and surprisingly it has come to our mobiles too. From mobile to pc internet was accessed. Now a day the internet is fast both on computers and on mobiles too. Given the advance technology, we are always on ONLINE mode round the clock. Don’t we?

- - Harish Benjwal

kullu Dusshera.pdf - 4shared.com - document sharing - download - HARISH BENJWAL

2012-03-20T21:56:00.001+05:30

www.atishree-theheritagecommunity.com

kullu Dusshera.pdf - 4shared.com - document sharing - download - HARISH BENJWAL: kullu Dusshera.pdf

Rail Milaap

2012-03-20T10:29:00.001+05:30

रेल मिलाप : सफ़र ज़िन्दगी का!

Image courtesy : indianmaharaja-train.com

कहते हैं इंसान की ज़िन्दगी उतार-चढ़ाव, सुखद-दुखद अनुभवों का एक ताना-बाना है. कोई धागा कभी खिसक जाए तो ताल-मेल ही बिगड़ जाए. खैर! ये कारवाँ तो चलता ही रहेगा. मैं चाहता था की आप से कुछ सुखद पहलुओं पे थोड़ा चर्चा की जाए.

वैसे ये जरूरी तो नहीं की हम लोग हर वक़्त गमहीन रहें?

क्यूँ भाई ठीक कहा?

तो मैं कहाँ था?

हाँ! मैं बात कर रहा था सुखद अनुभवों की, ऐसे पल जब हमारे अन्दर का शिशु बड़ी-बड़ी नज़रों से दुनिया को ताकता है. ऐसे पलों में मुझे रेलगाड़ी का सफ़र सबसे बेहतरीन लगता है. मुझे सुकून की अनुभूति मिलती है रेल में. एक पटरी पर कोसों मील का सफ़र, रफ़्तार एक सी, निरंतर, दिन-रात. कभी खेत-खलिहान, तो कभी दूर एक छोटा सा घर. कभी किसी पुल पर धडधडाती हुई, तो कभी जंगलों में पसरा हुआ सन्नाटा एक पल में लोगों की प्लेटफ़ॉर्म में चहल-पहल तो दूसरी ओर शून्य की अनुभूति.

अरे! भाई ट्रेन में सहयात्री भी तो हैं उनका क्या? उनकी व्याख्या कौन करेगा?

जी बिलकुल.

सहयात्री कोई भी हो सकता है जैसे किसी भी उम्र, लिंग, धर्म का. वैसे होते हैं कुछ ख़ास से जैसे 'सजावटी', 'बनावटी', 'दिखावटी' और 'हटी'. हटी यात्री तकरीबन रेल से ही सफ़र करते हैं कुछ हट के कारण कुछ विविशता के. ये विनोदी स्वभाव के बन जाते हैं हालांकि उनका प्रयास हमें गुद-गुदाने का नहीं होता है वो तो अनायास ही उनकी भाव-भंगिमा से ऐसा प्रतीत हो जाता है, और हम मुस्कुराने पे मजबूर हो जाते हैं. ये 'हटी यात्री' रेल में बैठते बड़ी शान से हैं, उनके चेहरे पे एक गंभीर मुद्रा होती है. सहयात्रियों से वो मेल-मिलाप खुद नहीं करते बल्कि इंतज़ार करते हैं की दूसरा ही बात छेढ़े. ये ज्यादातर रिटायर्ड सरकारी अधिकारी/कर्मचारी होते हैं. उनकी बातों में उनका रूतबा/औहदा दिखाने की एक खीज सी दिखती है. दबंगई अंदाज़ में वे अपने आप को श्रेष्ट और संस्था को निम्न बताने से भी नहीं चूकते. फिर बात, जो आनी ही होती है वो होती है घर-परिवार की और एक चमक के साथ उनकी आँखें बयान करने के मूड में आ जाती है की लड़का pilot है इंजिनियर है, डॉक्टर है और परदेस में है. 'परदेस' सुनकर श्रोताओं के मुख पर निराशा और वक्ता के मुख पर उल्लास की एक झलक दिख जाती है. गौर फ़रमाने की बात तो ये है की इंजिनियर, डॉक्टर से कम तो उनके बच्चे होते ही नहीं है. शायद ये रेल के लिए बने हुए जुमले हों?

'सजावटी 'और 'दिखावटी' यात्रियों का किसी से कोई लेन-देन नहीं रहता तभी तो वो सजावटी हैं. अपने से अतिरिक्त बोझ ले जाना वो गर्व की बात समझते हैं. बाकी यात्री 'प्रत्यक्षदर्शी' के सामान लगते हैं. ज़रा सा गलियारे के तरफ रुख क्या किया की वो टकटकी नज़रों से आप को देखें. और इन सब बातों के बीच रेलवे कैटरिंग स्टाफ निरंतर निराश करने वाली वस्तुएं लाकर आपको, ज़िन्दगी के कडुवे सच से मुलाक़ात कराती है. स्वाद और गुणवक्ता का झूठा एहसास उनकी आवाज़ कराती है. कुछ तो बात है. "चाय-चाय " "कटलेट-वैज बिरयानी" ना जाने क्या-क्या. ग्राहक ठगा सा महसूस करता है पर कभी शोर नहीं मचाता और चुप-चाप खा-पी जाता है.

अब बात आती है नींद की. अनुभव अगर सुखद हों तो भला नींद क्यूँ ना आये? नींद भी आती है रेल में, और 'पालने' के समान जब रेल झूमती है तो नींद आ ही जाती है. सबसे ऊपर वाली सीट हमेशा तैयार रहती है सोने के लिए. वहां जाकर हम बेफिक्र हों जाते हैं और अगर अपना सामान भी साथ हों तो वाह! क्या कहने.

सुबह के नित्य-कर्मों से निवृत होकर बातों का दौर फिर शुरू हों जाता है. चूँकि रेल अपने गंतव्य से कुछ ही घंटे दूर होती है तो बातें भी कुछ भावनात्मक रूप लेने लगती है. हटी यात्री सौम्य हों जाते हैं. उनकी उत्सुकता अब दूसरों को जाने की हों जाती हैं हालांकि समय काफी कम शेष रहता है. और देखते ही देखते गंतव्य भी आ जाता है और सफ़र अपने अंतिम पड़ाव पे आ जाता है. यहाँ पर बातों की लाइन कट जाती है, जैसे टेलेफोन में होता है. यात्री फिर से एक नयी दुविधा के शिकार हों जाते हैं, की कौन, कहाँ उन्हें लेने आया होगा, या कहाँ कैसे पहुंचा जाए. ये सब बड़ी तेज़ी से होता है. और जल्द बाज़ी में अलविदा, अल्लाह हाफिज़ कहना भी नहीं हों पाता. पर अनुभव का एक प्रिंट हम अपने मस्तिष्क में जरूर ले जाते हैं.

- हरीश बेंजवाल

विशेष : कुछ त्रुटियाँ इस लेख में अवश्य मिलेंगी क्युंकी ये लेख 'गूगल ट्रांसलेटर' (Google translator) पे टाइप किया गया है.

लेखक ने अपनी तरफ से पूर्ण कोशिश की लेख त्रुटी रहित हों. लेकिन technology के इस युग में Errors होना लाज़मी है.

क्षमाप्रार्थी

Mumbai Jogging!

2012-03-19T18:19:00.000+05:30

Photo : Mumbai as seen from my camera!

Mumbai Jogging: Sense of Belonging!

DISCLAIMER:
It's true that we can't understand a place, its people, society, human psyche and culture in a week. I am not saying that whatever has been observed by me is the ultimate truth for Mumbai. Maybe am wrong. As this is an individual observation/experience. But I can say this is my IMPRESSION about this city which will remain till I get an opportunity to be there for a longer time.

So you are wondering why the title Mumbai Jogging?

Well, that is what I felt in Mumbai, throughout my stay here. I was in Mumbai last week. This was my first trip to this city. From the morning till evening the cool breeze from the sea shore kept me enthusiastic, full of spirit. It felt like I was jogging here, no fatigue, simply fresh. I heard, read a lot about Mumbai. No doubt Bollywood movies provided a window to this place. Hey! Doesn’t every one of us feel that we all know lot about Mumbai? So much exposure of this city through Cinema that it feels we have already been to this place if not in reality maybe in some previous birth. Every nook & corner, festival, society has been depicted in some or other mainline, art commercial cinema. Such is the charm. So is the city.

As the taxi zoomed out of the Mumbai Central station I was welcomed by a totally different Landscape from Delhi, with the special ingredient called the pleasant weather. The roads with tiles giving impression of a complete jigsaw puzzle, the old buildings, all with imperial touch. There were tall, slouching coconut trees, narrating how fierce this breeze turns during monsoon time. The buildings having windows with fences, questioning the mind that why the person on the top floor wished to live so high from the ground? The taxi picked up the speed of 120 kmph throughout the journey! Isn’t this something we are missing here in Delhi? All the roads clear, traffic free, buses with decent number of passengers. I wondered where the people of the so big city have gone. When I asked the driver he replied with his Mumbaiyaa Hindi: "क्या है न भाई यहाँ पर लोग हमेशा जल्दी में रहता है जहाँ से तुमको बैठाया वहां भी traffic नहीं मिलेगा" that majority of the population here travels by Mumbai Local. So the buses and roads are not the full of traffic even at peak hours. I don't know how true his statement was but with the comfort of his foot resting on the accelerator I concluded yes brother you are right carry on. Amazing the speed was. Sitting in front I was feeling great with the breeze keeping eyes full of happiness.

The other day I was waiting for the bus number 500 for Vikroli. The bus station was clean, and the to my surprise the buses were not standing idle at the bus station, rather, at a regular interval they were leaving the bus station. I thought BEST (the Mumbai Road Transport Service) is following the principle of Airline Industry where the theory is that an Aeroplane should be in the Air not standing idle in the bay/airport. So was the buses here, not standing idle, rather plying with their schedule. This is something missing here in Delhi. The other thing to praise was the crisp, clean uniform of the bus staff (driver/conductor). The uniform has the name plate of the conductor; with the emblem of M.R.T.C I never saw such respect for the uniform here in Delhi. The Conductor here in Mumbai will come to your seat and ask for the ticket/s. That is what the definition of an ideal Public Transport is. Mutual respect and understanding between the Travellers/Passengers and the Transport Organisation. And I did ride the lifeline of Mumbai; the Mumbai Local Trains and didn't find anything local about it. Rather they are high speed, regular, durable, reliable transport medium and commute thousands of passengers’ to-and-fro in this big city. People are helpful. They will try to help you as best as they can, and will not stray you with false information.

Hey! Am I going too overboard in stretching the Transport theory?

Boring you?

Ok! Well this was just one of my general observations there.

I am still to come with my agenda i.e. 'SENSE OF BELONGING'. What it is? How it comes? And what are the requirements/conditions/necessities? Well, I thought of boring you with all of my good experiences in Mumbai. All of my 12 days stay experience here. But, then I had some bad experiences too. And we all are aware that this human tendency to curse and to hold on all bad experiences, events more with him. So am trying to balance myself in going to extremes.

I was duped by two auto drivers here in MUMBAI as well. Not for one time but for two. This is also a part here in this write-up. I was duped not by a Maharasthrain/Marathi auto driver but, sadly by North-India migrant auto driver, who cunningly sensed my helplessness as a stranger to this city and charged me Rs 70 for a travel/distance of Rs 12, with excuses of his Auto tariffs, taxes, timings and blah blah concepts which only god can understand. And that is not all, further he tried to show how street smart he was by telling us to which hotel to go and how to bargain with hotel owner for off-season discounts. For that moment we thought he was helping us. I thanked him for his helpful attitude. But, later on I realized he was not worth of it. Trust me I was very furious and gave all the गाली (abusive words) possible to him. I cursed him. Although this was just a very small incident in thousands of similar incidents, but the underlying theme is very broad for human conscience to understand. This was the point when I realized that what Sense of Belonging is and how it comes.

It comes when you owe your life to a place, which you call your motherland, native place or hometown. It comes when you have a Language to speak, to write. It comes when you have an Inborn Identity as a resident of that place. And it comes when you hail from a prospered area and you feel proud of it. Unfortunately, in this case there was a migrant from North India, who had nothing to do with Maharasthra, its culture, its traditions, its people and why not? After all he didn't owe anything to here. He had only one thing in mind; to make money. I am not saying that the auto driver is to be blamed. He can't be blamed because he is financially poor, for sure. Neither I am not with blame game here. I am just trying to understand how can we inject 'SENSE OF BELONGING' in our Moral Veins?

.............................................................................................(to be continued)

What you think? Am waiting for your views? Maybe we can make some further additions to it.

Harish Benjwal

Janjira fort.pdf - 4shared.com - document sharing - download

2012-03-19T14:59:00.001+05:30

Janjira fort.pdf - 4shared.com - document sharing - download: Janjira fort.pdf

Band Baja aur Baraat!

2012-02-29T20:11:00.000+05:30

बैंड बाज़ा और बारात : Epitome of Happiness!

Image Courtesy : clip-art-free-clipart.blogspot.com

Yesterday was a happening day. Guess what was so special? कल मेरे यार के 'भाई 'की शादी थी. It was a typical Kumaoni (Uttarakhand, India) wedding. I enjoyed a lot. I danced in all best, impossible, self-invented, on-the-spot style way, one can think of and yes for 2 hours non-stop. Yes! It was my non-stop dance display from the road with dhol-nagada 1000watt PMPO heart thumping beats to the dancing floor of DJs. Beautiful girls were dancing, so that was another feel good factor. Along with my friends, in sync, in coordination I danced.

Many times joined by little hesitating but equally curious chance performers who were the other Baratis. The slow rhythmic dances, swinging on both left and right direction, use of hands in विचित्र मुद्रा some exploration kind!, slightly bending towards the ground, with beats of Pahadi songs full of nasal twang, ultrasonic, electronic voice created an environment of joy. Then moments came when the dance floor made of wooden blocks came to the verge of getting broken with jumps to the every single person was enjoying, a contentment, laughter, and an environment created for just one reason that WE ARE HAPPY. This is the beauty of the Indian Weddings. One can explore his/her hidden talent, potential in form of dance.

And of course पहाड़ी शादी have its own charm. It is distinct from others, given the kind of rasam-rivaaz that are followed, not merely as a customary duty, but as a moral, social obligation, where the feeling of participation, coordination comes naturally. The customs performed have their own meanings; they are scientific and interesting to watch. That is why the entire ceremony finally concluded in the wee hours at 5:30am with the Saat-Pheras. The rasam-rivaz continued whole night, with Pandit ji chanting mantras, making the newly-wed couple nervous, sometimes irritating with the recitation of clauses given in the shastras/holy texts, oath swearing, and so. The band party team was already in deep slumber with their drums, brass and other equipments scattered here and there in the banquet hall. Some of the guests in the name of that they are still wide awake and are viewing the function, slept in the banquet hall, sofas itself, but intermittently they did remind their relatives that are still awake, and that if god forbid they get into deep sleep and miss the pheras then please do wake them up. As we were group of friends so we didn’t feel any need to sleep. It was because of gossips and the excitement of after meeting so many years.

There were two priests, both equally talented but soon became competitors as the time progressed. The old priest turned out to be the ultimate winner, with his all mug up knowledge and techniques. Of course given his age, he was unbiased winner. He dominated the younger priest who had no other option then to reluctantly oblige.

It was dancing; soft drinks (which included coke and other beverages, and not the other type of soft drinks), coffee, snacks and water which kept us awake with full spirit till 6 in the morning. Generally during such occasion where there several options I generally lose my appetite so I just gorge on snacks or few main items. I had a good time. I enjoyed a lot.

- Harish Benjwal

A monk

2012-02-11T22:11:00.000+05:30

Image Courtesy : illustrationsof.com

A monk: from Ukraine

Yesterday I was waiting for the bus at the bus stop with my friend. We were busy in gossips. Someone overheard. "Excuse me! Are you both friends??" A voice with foreign accent broke our conversation. Now that was a totally unexpected, doubtful question and as i turned around to my amazement, here was a dhoti clad foreigner boy, with a radiant face, sparkling blue eyes, shaved head, with a choti (चोटी) or pony tail standing in front of us, with a mystical smile. We were speechless for a moment. And it was broken with another question from this monk "Hello my name is (I didn’t hear)......... and am a monk from Ukraine. i have devoted my life to the ISCKON The International Society for Krishna Consciousness...are you both good friends?? i was taken aback whether he sensed some Homo aspect in us who were human with straight orientation or was there some proposal of him for nirvana or some Kalyuga? Promptly i replied "yes we are good friends but, we are only pure good friends nothing else".

Puzzled he became and me too. Miscommunication or misunderstanding only god knows. Then he took out a hardbound copy of a book and showed to us. It was Bhagvad Gita the most sacred book of Hindu faith. Now more confused I became, quite uneasy, that what this monk wanted to prove now with this sacred book? Whether he wanted to make us swear with that book that we were two normal friends of sholay film's time or something else? And there he said "do you know about this book? Pointing towards the book

Yes! We do, it’s a very sacred book of our faith i.e. Hinduism. Each verse mentioned in the sacred text is something to imbibe in life, very practical. It is Bhagvad Gita. He said: "Yes you are right, this have changed my perception about life, so my friend can you donate something to this monk? Please. i need भीक्षा (donation) for Hare Rama Hare Krishna. Will you help your this monk friend? If you could buy this holy book i may get some hope for the next day. Please". Till now we managed to grab attention of all the people waiting at the bus stop on us. two curious onlookers huddled around us, trying to inquire what the situation was about and who this monk was. but when they could not get their answer in any animated form. they disappointed went to their respective place. this is a common Indian inquisitive nature: to make huddle on public places!

I said "dear friend we are students so we have limited money that is given reluctantly by our parents. So we can donate just a small part. But you don't sell that book. It’s very sacred. Keep with you". Here keep this. i took out Rs 20 note and gave to him, and said : "this was the maximum i could donate to you at this stage of my life. You have been to India for solace. May god bless you" his eyes sparkled. Aura of contentment was more radiant. He thanked us with gratitude and the words were: Hare Krishna hare rama. He gave us a beautiful card with lines written in Ukraine’s language about Lord Krishna. We are yet to decipher what message it exactly conveys. But one message was already conveyed that: spirituality is a universal phenomenon!

- Harish Benjwal

Lost Mobile

2012-02-03T22:18:00.003+05:30

Lost Mobile - A Story!

Image Courtesy : buzzom.com

He is my good friend and he cares his belonging to the hilt. He is very conscious about his things/belongings, and sometimes he goes too far in the name of caring them. i observe him daily. It's a good habit to care one's own things. then there were some more interesting facts/stories of his love for care. Once he owned a remote toy car during his graduation. He loved that but had to give to his nephew, much much younger in age and thoughts. Then there was another noticeable habit, he loves to break Salad (सलाद) with his spoon and eat Chapati (रोटी) with hands. But hands do get involved in eating latter, my friend. so why the worry of mess? I like that.

He lost his mobile. a pickpocket in the crowded bus stole it. now that is very sad. he lost his six year old archaic phone while traveling in the bus. This outdated phone's production has been stopped (discarded) by the manufacturer. that was painful. It was palpable on his face that day. But before one's heart bleed in sympathy, this was not the phone for sympathy, rather, it was a phone of apathy. a matter of fun for all of us. We told him number of times to change it. But he didn't listen to our cries. the phone could not perform even the basic function of calls. it used to drop calls rather. it was always tough time to decode/hear what my dear friend was saying on the other end with his archaic phone. I guess the person who stole heard the silent prayer.

The phone already lived its life, more than prescribed by the manufacturer, it was not intact as the manufacturer thought of. it was a carcass, with a swollen battery crying for replacement. But no use. He wanted to use it as much as possible, till last drop. so that is how the things were. and then this D-day came. we alighted from the bus and suddenly he shrieked - "my phone!!!" fumbling his pockets. "give a miss call" "oh! its not there". "stop the bus somebody please"....and he ran amok behind the bus. I ran behind him. with thoughts "चलो अच्छा है कम से कम उस चोर ने तो सुन ली.

हे प्रभु तेरे घर में देर है पर अंधेर नहीं" thank god! you listened. you still have my hopes on you) . An auto driver noticed us running like that. he sensed something in his mind. Trouble. He gave race to his auto in some heroic expectation said "come hurry up". My friend grabbed the seat. the auto chased the bus. i don't know what talk they had in between. soon the two vehicles were not in front of my eyes. just dust. I guess it was a part of the movie shot.

And the phone was lost forever......leaving behind some thought provoking questions like :

What compelled my friend to run behind a bus? What was that hope? What made him to risk his life behind that phone? And what the auto driver was expecting?

And the final question in my mind is : "What happened to the pickpocket? is he alive? Or died of shame for risking himself for such a poor/unfortunate possession?" Further putting a stigma to his profession!

- Harish Benjwal