Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Krishna Janm.. Fauji Style

कृष्ण जन्माष्ठमी थी.. फ़ौज में उस दिन मंदिर परेड थी. सब जवान अपने अपने परिवार सहित बहुत श्रद्धा से भजन कीर्तन कर रहे थे.रात ११.३० बजे तक सब ऑफिसर्स भी अपने अपने परिवार सहित मंदिर पहुँच गए..अब चीमटे, मंजीरे व ढोलकी पूरे जोर शोर से बजने लगे.भजन कीर्तन में नया जोश भर गया. १२ बजने में अब कुछ टाइम ही रह गया था..CO साहेब व मेम साहेब पहुंचे नहीं थे. सब लोग इधर उधर देखने लगे..फुसफुसाहट होने लगी.. CO साहेब को इस टाइम तक पहुँच जाना चाहिए था..अब १२ भी बज गए..2IC साहेब के पसीने छूटने लगे. देवकी मैया प्रसव वेदना से छटपटाने लगीं.सबकी नज़र मंदिर के द्वार पे लगी थी..अब CO साहेब आयें तो माता देवकी को इस यातना से छुटकारा मिले..क्यूंकि कृष्णा का जन्म तो उनके आने से पहले हो नहीं सकता, प्रोटोकॉल का सवाल था.. वे पधार कर झूला झुलाएंगे तभी कृष्णा भगवान जन्म लेंगे ना..आखिर ५-७ मिनट के विलम्ब से सीओ साहेब व में साहेब दिखाई दिए..सबने राहत की सांस ली..2IC साहेब ने अपना पसीना पोंछा..आते ही सीओ साहेब ने झूले की रस्सी पकड़ी..माता देवकी की पीड़ा का अंत हुआ..व सब ओर पटाखों की आवाज़ के बीच कृष्णा जी ने जन्म लिया....Poonam Dogra

Monday, August 19, 2013

अन्तराल

मैं ठीक समय पर पहुँच गयी थी. तुम तभी तभी ही पहुंचे थे.. café भरा हुआ था. एक कोने की टेबल खाली थी. सो वहीं जा बैठे.. कॉफ़ी का आर्डर दिया.
तुमने पूछा "कैसी हो."
"ठीक"
"बच्चे?"
"वो भी ठीक हैं"..."तुम्हारे ?
"अच्छे हैं"...
उसके बाद एक लम्बी चुप्पी..शब्द चुक गए हों जैसे.धीरे धीरे कॉफ़ी की चुस्कियां भरते रहे.. बीच बीच में नज़रें चुरा कर एक दुसरे को देख लेते. .तुम कितने थके लग रहे थे..ज़िन्दगी से ऊबे.. हताश.. निराश.. मैंने नोट किया जब तुम मिलने पे मुस्कुराये थे,तुम्हारी आँखों के किनारों पे लकीरें उग आई थीं..crows feet., पर मुस्कान वैसी ही थी खिली हुयी.. मुस्कुराते हुए तुम्हारे होंठ फैल कर आँखों को छू जाते थे अब भी.. तुम्हारे चेहरे पर और भी कई छोटी बड़ी लकीरों ने घर कर लिया था.. मेरी नज़रें उन सबकी कहानियां पढ़ रही थीं.. कुछ पूछने की या कहने की ज़रुरत ही कहाँ थी वहाँ..सब कुछ खुली किताब सा बिखरा पड़ा था..उन मोटे चश्मों के बीच से झांकती तुम्हारी आँखों में शहद अब भी लबालब भरा था..
प्याले खाली हो चुके थे. तुम ऊँगली से खाली प्याले को गोल गोल घुमाने लगे. फिर तुमने नज़रें उठा कर देखा..तुम्हारी नज़रें मेरे होंठों पर कुछ पल को ठहर गयीं. वो पल वहीं थम गया. वक़्त कुछ पल ठहर कर फिर आगे बढ़ गया..
तुमने अपनी कलाई पर बंधी घड़ी में टाइम देखा.."चलना चाहिए"
..मैंने खुद को समेटा.. तुमने खुद को.. और बढ़ गए दोनों.. तुम उस ओर, मैं इस और..दोनों अपनी अपनी दुनिया की भीड़ में फिर से गुम जाने के लिए....इस सबके बीच पाप कहाँ था,. कोई समझाएगा मुझे.........Poonam Dogra


 

Saturday, August 17, 2013

zara muskura de aye khushi..

                                                                A Short Story
उम्र की ढलान.. फुर्सत ही फुर्सत.. उस बार ईद और तीज दोनों ही इकट्ठे पड़े, एक ही दिन.. सोचा चलो बच्चों के लिए खीर बनाकर भेज दी जाए.. सो खीर बना मधु अन्दर बेडरूम में आकर लेट गयी.. BP शायद ज्यादा रहा होगा ..सर कुछ भारी था..करेले काट कर रक्खे थे की बाद में बना लुंगी.. सुधीर बोले ,"तुम आराम करो आज मैं बना दूंगा". करेले उन्हें अपने हाथ के ही अच्छे लगते हैं.. क्यूँ नहीं, जब आधा गैलन तेल में त...ले जायेंगे तो स्वाद तो आयेगा ही.. वो कहते हैं न, 'घी बनाये बैंगना, नाम बहु का होए'.. मधु तो परहेज़ से ही बनाती है न. अब उम्र के इस दौर में परहेज़ न करेंगे तो क्या करेंगे.. डायबिटीज भी तो महामारी सी ४० पार होते ही दबोच लेती है..

मधु आँख बंद किये लेटी थी..रसोई से जो लगातार करछुल की आवाज़ आ रही थी, वह अब शांत थी.. लगता है, सब्जी चढ़ा दी है और अब टीवी देख रहे हैं.. अचानक याद आया 'हाय मैंने खीर बनाकर यूं ही डोंगे में औटा ठंडी करने रक्खी थी, कहीं जनाब उसी पे तो हाथ साफ़ नहीं कर रहे'..खीर और सुधीर का तो बहुत घातक combination है!! उन्हें मीठे के आगे अपनी डायबिटीज कहाँ दिखती है..वह दौड़ कर रसोई की तरफ लपकी.. सच में ही सुधीर के आगे खीर से लबालब प्लेट धरी थी और चम्मच भर मुह में ..चेहरे पर ऐसा सुख का भाव जैसे कोई बच्चा चोरी के अमरुद तोड़ खूब रस ले ले खा रहा हो.. उसे हंसी आ गयी.. भला किस मूंह से टोके उन्हें..चुपचाप कमरे में उलटे पैर लौट आयी..और वहीं से आवाज़ लगाई, "सुनो अपना इंजेक्शन (इन्सुलिन वाला) लगाना मत भूलना...Poonam Dogra

Saturday, August 3, 2013

Shhh.. its a secret !!

         It was winter afternoon.. the chooranwala was standing at the corner of the street.. but I had spent all my pocket money in school that day.. what could i do.. mom was at school where she was the principal.. dad in court .. only granny and Uma Mausi (aunt) was at home.. Asking granny for money to buy something from ‘chooran wala’ was a waste of time and effort.. Asking mausi for chooran ,was the same. .i knew they would say that I would get a sour throat eating that chooran full of tartaric. Though I never liked chooran as it was too sour for my taste, but I loved the (imli ki chutney) tamarind chutney he sold.. ahh ! the chutney was out of this world.. the exact proportion of sweet and sour that I loved.. thinking of it only, made my mouth water..
Mausi was studying for her exams as she was doing her Masters from Dehra Dun.. her long coat was hanging right there behind that door..( you can see those long coats in black and white English movies of the fifties).. it used to be a long coat, wide from the back, almost reaching the calves .. the highlight of the coat was the three folds hanging from the back, what we call umbrella shape.. so the coat was hanging right there with its deep pockets.. I knew it had lots of change..and I needed just a few pennies.. so I slipped my small hands into her deep pockets... oolalaa… there was a handful of change.. happily I grabbed 3 pennies, looked around.. no one was looking.. dashed out of the house with my moolah ..and off to the chooran wala.. He gave me 3 spoonful of that sweet, heavenly tamarind chutney.. I sat on the stairs of my house , dipped my finger in the chutney and started licking it.. what heavenly taste.. slurp..slurp I licked it all.. but my thirst for the chutney hadn’t quenched yet.. I wanted just little bit more.. yes! I can have a little bit more!.. Mausi (aunt) is like maa si (mother like).. I can grab a few more coins from her pocket.. she had plenty.. I’ll tell her later.. and.. that’s just what I did.. I grabbed just 3 pennies more from her pocket again and got the second helping of the chutney.. but.. I never told mausi (or anyone) about it, till date.. maybe I was shy.. or.. God knows what.. This was my little secret that I never shared with anyone.. But let me tell you that, I had no guilt about it THEN and I have no guilt about it NOW.. Why? I don’t know.. maybe because though it might sound like stealing from her pocket, it was not.. the only thing that comes to mind is that probably I was shy in not telling her..or..i don't know.. maybe you all have a better idea..lol!!
            Mausi loved us so much.. she was the one who took me and Sanju to the tailor and got all the latest styles of dresses made.. the black and white picture that still sits on the shelf in Dehra Dun, was taken at Goyal Studio on Chakrata Road.. I clearly remember the brown frock with black beads and Sanju’s grey Capri pants(it was called something else those days) ..Mausi made us sit on the big table and showed us how to pose for the picture.. Mummy and papa could not spare extra time for us as they were buzy fighting their own battles in their own respective fields..Times were tough and it was the first few years of their career.. IT IS NEVER EASY FOR PEOPLE WHO LIVE AHEAD OF THEIR TIMES .. being a communist and serving in Arya Samaji School was everyday struggle for her with the management.. but her strong will and perseverance won..but that is another story for some other time.. but my Uma mausi covered up for her with us.. she took great care of us.. we all will always be indebted to her…............Poonam Dogra
 

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

चाँद आहें भरेगा .. Chand Aahen Bharega ..


नाना जी की बगिया अच्छी खासी थी.. हर साल दो साल बाद कोई शादी ब्याह लगा रहता था..हंसी ख़ुशी गहमा गहमी का माहोल जमा ही रहता.. ऐसे ही किसी एक आयोजन की बात है.. रात के खाने के बाद गाने की महफ़िल जमी.. एक एक कर सब की बारी आयी.. अब बारी हमारे सुन्दर सजीले मौसा जी की थी.. उम्मीद थी कि बहुत मान- मनुहार करवाएंगे.. उनकी आवाज़ सुन ने को हम सब लालायित रहते.. एक तो बोलते कम थे , दुसरे उनकी बोल चाल में लखनवी अंदाज़ हमारे देलही- देहरादून वासियों के कानों में बाम कि तरह का काम करता.. सो हम तो मान मुनव्वल को भी तैयार थे.. परन्तु यह क्या..मौसा जी हमारे तो एक बार के आग्रह में ही मान गए..हम सांस रोके उनका गाना सुन रहे थे..
" चाँद आहें भरेगा फूल दिल थाम लेंगे
हुस्न की बात चली तो, सब तेरा नाम लेंगे....".
उनकी आवाज़ में वो खनक , वो करारापन था कि हम सब मुग्ध हो उन्हें सुनते रहे.. हमारी निहायत ख़ूबसूरत मौसी जी मंद मंद मुस्कुरा रही थीं.. मौसा जी भी बीच बीच में उन्हें देखकर मुस्कुरा देते थे.. कोई 60s कि फिल्म चल रही हो जैसे.. यह गाना चाहे जिस फिल्म का रहा हो.. चाहे जिसने भी गाया हो..उस दिन से इस गाने को एक चेहरा मिल गया था.. मौसाजी का चेहरा..  उसके बाद तो जब जब भी यह गाना सुना, लगता कि मौसा जी गा रहे हैं..
आज मौसा जी हमारे बीच नहीं हैं.. मौसी हमारी मौन हो चुकी हैं.. बिलकुल पत्थर सी.. जहां बैठा तो बैठ गयीं.. सिर्फ शरीर भर रह गया है चुकने को .. आत्मा उनकी मौसाजी अपने साथ ले उड़े.. कभी कभी अपनी  ही धुन में मंद मंद मुस्कुरा देती हैं . मौसा जी को गाता देख रही हों जैसे .. उनकी आवाज़ उनके कानों में गूंजती हो शायद अब भी....
." चाँद आहें भरेगा फूल दिल थाम लेंगे,
 हुस्न की बात चली तो सब तेरा नाम लेंगे........."                                                   Poonam Dogra

Nana ki phulwari achchi khasi thi.. har saal do saal baad koi shadi byah laga rehta tha..Aise hi kisi kisi function ki baat hai.. raat ke khaane ke baad gaane ki mehfil jamee.. ek ek kar sab ki baari lagi thi.. kisi ne sur mein gaya , koi besura tha.. ab baari hamare sundar sajeele mausa ji kit hi.. ummeed kam thi ki we kuchh sunayenge.. ..  unka bolne ka andaaz  lakhnavi  tha.. bahut adab wala.. agar who kisi ko gaali dete ,to bhi lagta ki puchkar rahe hain.. waise kabhi koi abhadra bhasha unke muh se suni na thi.. yeh to hamara andaza hai..  awaaz mein ek khanak thi unki..  to ab baari unki  ayee.. hamein lagaa bahut manuhaar karni padegi.. par nahee.. 
baari aatey hi unhon ne gana shuru kiya..
 
"Chand aahen bharega, phool dil thaam lenge
husn ki baat chali to, sab tera naam lenge..."

 unki awaaz mein who khanak, who karara pan tha ki hum sab mugdh ho unhe suntay rahe.. hamari  nihayat khoobsoorat mausi, mand mand muskura rahi theen.. mausa ji  beech beech mein unhe dekh kar muskura dete thay .. koi 60s ki film chal rahi ho jaise.. yeh gana chahe jis film ka raha ho, chahe jisne bhi gaya ho, hamare liye to us gaane ko ek chehra mil gaya tha.. itne varsh ho gaye, jab bhi yeh gana kaano mein padaa lagta hai, mausa jig a rahe hain..
aaj mausa ji hamare beech nahee hain.. mausi hamari maun ho chuki hain..bilkul patthar si ..jahaan baitha do waheen baith jayengi..  lagta hai iss duniya ki nahee raheen ab.. atma unki mausa ji apne saath le ude..  bas shareer bhar reh gaya hai chukne ko.. kabhi kabhi mand mand muskura deti hain apni hi dhun mein.. mausa ji ko gaata  sun rahi hon jaise.. unki awaaz unke kaanoN mein shayad goonjti ho ab bhi...
 "Chand aahen bharega, phool dil thaam lenge h
   usn ki baat chali to sab tera naam lenge..".
In memory of Harikesh Mausa Ji.. God bless his soul wherever he is......Poonam Dogra
 
 
 

Monday, July 22, 2013

बेटी पहाड़ की

बेटी पहाड़ की.. बहू पंजाब की और सास अमेरिकन.. ऐसा 'कॉम्बो 'कभी कभार ही सामने से गुज़रता है ना....
एक बार की बात है , जब बेटा छोटा सा था, अपनी तोतली ज़बान में कुछ कह रहा था..पति के मित्र साथ थे.. मज़ाक में पूछा की यह कौन सी भाषा बोल रहा है..पति ने तपाक से कहा..'गढ़जाबी'.. पहले तो समझ नहीं आया..फिर समझे तो खूब हँसे.. गढ़जाबी यानि गढ़वाली+पंजाबी= गढ़जाबी..
पहाड़ियों की एक खासियत यह भी है की चावल के बिना खाना ,खाना नहीं होता,खासकर दिन में.. कहावत भी है न.'पहाड़ी मीत.......भात खाया खिस्सके(lol ).. स्कूल से घर पास ही था 'वाकिंग डिसटन्स'  पर.. कभी कभी घर खाना खाने आजाती थी 'लंच टाइम' पर.. घर पर गर्र्मा गर्म दाल भात जल्दी जल्दी खाती और दौड़ लगाती ..पहाड़ी हूँ तो चावल तो हाथ से ही खाऊँगी न.. स्कूल में पहुँचती तो शुभा मेरा हाथ सूंघती .."चावल खाया न".. मुझे तो एहसास नहीं था पर उसे खुशबु आजाती.. ऐसी ही होती थी तब देहरा दून के बासमती की खुशबु और माजरा के बासमती तो दुनिया भर में मशहूर हैं .. घरभर चावल की महक से भर जाता .. कहते थे की बासमती की खुशबु सात घरों तक घूमती है..सच था.. आजकल बासमती बनाओ तो रसोई से ही पूछना पड़ता है की चावल भी बने है या नहीं..
हाँ तो चावल की बात थी.. शादी के बाद ससुराल गयी.. पहली बार खाना खाने बैठी.. थाली सजाकर आगे रख दी.. मैंने खाना शुरू किया..जब चावल की बारी आयी,तो चम्मच को थाली की साइड पर  रख दिया और ज्यों ही हाथ से कौर मूंह की ओर बढाया की ननद ने जोर से कहा..'अरे अरे भाभी क्या कर रही हो'.. घबरा गयी में..पता नहीं अब क्या गलती कर दी मैंने..बोली, 'चावल हाथ से क्यूँ ,चम्मच है न'.. बस इसी चीज़ के लिए टोका था..मैंने कहा ',अपने घर पर हूँ तो हाथ से ही खाऊँगी'.. नयी नयी शादी थी तो पति मुस्कुरा भर दिए.. हाँ बाद में खीज जाते थे, पता है मुझे..
आर्मी के मेस में जब भी पार्टी होती थी तो  मिसिज़ मनकोटिया मेरे कान में फुसफुसा कर कहतीं 'यार चिक्केन मजेदार है पर जब तक चावल में मीन्स कर न खाओ तसल्ली नहीं होती.. सच ही तो कहती थीं मिसेज़ मनकोटिया ..
आज जब दोनों बहुओं को चावल हाथ से खाता देखती हूँ तो कितनी आत्मिक शांति मिलती है, बयान नहीं कर सकती.. पति आज भी वैसे ही कसमसाकर रह जाते हैं, पता है मुझे ....                        
                                                                                                      .... Poonam Dogra....
 

Sunday, July 21, 2013

RISHTE

rishte kahaan yuun hi panapte hain
inki jadon ko seenchna padta hai
pyar ki khaad se
samvedna ke paani se
aur andekha karna padta hai kuchh
bhoolna padta hai bahut kuchh
rishte khoon ke hon ya dil ke
maangte hain dono hi
kuchh kuchh andha pan.............Poonam Dogra
 
रिश्ते कहाँ यूँ ही पनपते हैं
इनकी जड़ों को सींचना पड़ता है
प्यार की खाद से
संवेदना के पानी से
और अनदेखा करना पड़ता है कुछ
भूलना पड़ता है बहुत कुछ
रिश्ते खून के हों या दिल के
मांगते हैं दोनों ही
कुछ कुछ अंधापन.........................Poonam Dogra 

Friday, July 19, 2013

MY FIRST lOVE

     Tall, fair and handsome, that's how he was. All suave and clean shaven. A complete 'choclatey'  boy. Impeccably dressed. It was love at first sight. I loved everything about him. His romantic glances, stirred my heart for the first time. His songs were for me,  his yearnings for me, that's what I felt. And yet, it wasn't for me. Yes people, he was a filmstar of yester years, Joy Mukherjea!! My first heart throb!! My first love, I think!! Me, a girl of maybe 8 or 9 yrs old. An age when we couldn't tell a good film from a bad. And who cared if the film was bad? All I cared was him. Ahh!!..he was so good looking!!..Wore  such nice clothes(even if he was shown a poor boy), sang such wonderful songs, danced around trees hopping ,skipping and running after some pretty lass. It was so awful to see him lose his memory in every other film!! I remember I saw two of his movies back to back the first time, of which Phir Wohi Dil Laya Hoon was one. Asha Parekh was the heroine in that film. And from that day onward she too became my favourite one. You remember that song 'Anchal mein saja lena kaliyaan..' I literally cried 'with' him and for 'him'.
      There was another movie Ziddi. Once again Asha Parekh was his heroine. My young mind had accepted them as a real life pair. But then came another movie with someone else. How could I accept him with someone else?? someone other than Asha Parekh?? I didn't like it one bit!! Then one day, out of blue, my aunt invited me for the same movie. You think I was a fool enough to miss the opportunity!! Going to see  a movie was not an everyday affair like nowadays! It used to be a special occasion! and how could I miss watching my favourite star!!  and what a relief it was to see the heroine was equally pretty if not prettier !! She was Sadhna!! 
       I don't know if you noticed, that the music in all the above films was of late Mr. O P Nayyar . What wonderful music he gave! You guessed it right.Yupp.. he became my favourite right from that time. Today after so many  long years too, I hear his music and nostalgia grips me.
       It's not that I didn't have any 'Joy'after Joy Mukherjea.There were several after him. But he is the one to capture my heart first!! I owe it to him that special corner in my heart!!  
                                                                                                                    .... Poonam Dogra....
       
 
 
 
 
  
 
Reply
Forward
 

 

Thursday, July 18, 2013

befikr... belaus...

kuchh kshan, kuchh pal, bas mere apne 
main uduun .. phiroon hawaaon mein
befikr... be laus....

na kisi dor ka bandhan ho
rishta, koi sambandh na ho
sab dhaage tod ud jaaun main
jee luun kuchh der hawaaon mein
befikr ... belaus ....
 
kab chaah kari hai maine dhan ki
ummeed kari hai bas kuchh kshann ki
kuchh tukde saansein bhar loon main
kho jaaun mukt hawaain mein


phir jiyuun .. uduun hawaon mein
befikr.. belaus.....                          ....poonam dogra
 
कुछ क्षण कुछ पल , बस मेरे अपने
मैं उडूं फिरूं हवाओं में
बेफिक्र .... बेलौस....
न किसी डोर का बंधन हो
रिश्ता कोई सम्बन्ध न हो
सब धागे तोड़ उड़ जाऊं मैं
जी लूँ कुछ देर हवाओं में
बेफिक्र.... बेलौस....
कब चाह करी है मैंने धन की
उम्मीद करी है बस कुछ क्षण की
कुछ टुकड़े साँसें भर लूँ मैं
खो जाऊं मुक्त हवाओं में....
फिर जियूं .. उडूं हवाओं में
बेफिक्र.... बेलौस....                ....poonam dogra
 

 

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

DALDAL दलदल

This is dedicated to my children.. sons and daughters -in- law.. who are my strength.. It is because of their strength, I live the life on my own terms.. my priniples .. my moral values intact.. 
 
NafratoN ke daldal mein
kaun khila saka hai phool pyar ke
bahaar ke
daldal.. jisme sadte hain rishte
apno ke
mazhab ke
sarhad ke
mile chaar haath jab tumhare
to phool ban gaye
saare kaante
bahaar ke................... Poonam Dogra
 
नफरतों की दलदल में
कौन खिला सका है फूल प्यार के
बहार के
दलदल .. जिसमें सड़ते हैं रिश्ते
अपनों के
मज़हब के
सरहद के
मिले चार हाथ जब तुम्हारे
तो फूल बन गए,
सारे कांटे
बहार के ..................Poonam Dogra

zehan.. ज़ेहन..

 
 
Ek Ghar Tha Yaadon Ka
Kuchh Beete Lamhe Un Mein Rehte Thay
Kabhi Chahchaha Ke Hanste Thay
Kabhi Bharbhara Ke Rotay Thay
Waheen Paas Zehan Ki Ataari Thii
Bas Shikayaton Ki Pitaari Thi
Roz Taqraar Unme Hoti Thi
Phir Ek Din Tang Aakar
Humne Kuchh aisa Kaam Kiya
Yaadon Se Ghar Khaali Kara
Humne Zehan Ko Bech Diya......Poonam Dogra
 
एक घर था यादों का
कुछ बीते लम्हे उनमें रहते थे
कभी चहचहा के हँसते थे
कभी भरभरा के रोते थे
वहीं पास ज़ेहन की अटारी थी
बस शिकायतों की पिटारी थी
रोज़ तकरार उनमे होती थी
फिर एक दिन तंग आकर
हमने कुछ ऐसा काम किया
यादों से घर खाली करा
हमने ज़ेहन को बेच दिया................Poonam Dogra
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

KSHITIJ KE US PAAR...

 

Kshitij Ke Us Paar...

 

                                                           Duur Kshitij Ke Us Paar
Hai Na Ek Aur Jahaan
Aisa Kya Hoga Wahaan
Chhod Dastaan Apni
Ud Jaate Hain Log Kahaan

                                                             Kaisa Wo Nagar Hoga
                                                             Muskuraahaton Ka Ghar Hoga
                                                             Masti Bhara Shor Hoga
                                                             Dil Jhoomta Mor Hoga

Bhookh Hogi Na Pet Hoga
TajMahal Na Jhonpda Hoga
Koi Chhota Na Bada Hoga
Sara Manzar Hara Hoga

                                                               Na Deh Na Bandhan Hoga
                                                               Na Koi Darmiyaan Hoga
                                                               Rang Sab Ghule Mile Honge
                                                               Sab Ka Sab Kuchh Wahaan Ho
 aur tum....
 Na Kaho Kuchh Nahi Hoga
 Biyabaan Andhera Hoga
 Dil Ko Behelne Do Zara
 Thoda To Sukoon Hoga 
                                        ..............................Poonam Dogra                                                                                                                           

Monday, July 15, 2013

NACHHATTAR SINGH


Here is another funny one from Ek Garrm Chai Ki Pyali .. hope you enjoy reading it..




                                                                                 NACHHATTAR SINGH
Nachhattar singh landed in the land of opportunities in 1977 with dreams in his eyes for a bright future.. his father had sold a piece of land for his tickets and expenses.. It was a dream of young and not so young punjabi puttars of those days to go abroad and sweep all the gold lying down on the streets of 'gora land', any land for that matter, 'bas saat samundar paar hona chahida'. They would part with the most fertile land and equip their sons to be in the land of dollars whether Australian , Canadian, or US. So Nachhattar, by all means, fair and not so fair, landed on the shores of United States Of America. Here he found out that all things were not as bright and beautiful as they looked from far. He toiled hard for his daily meal; went through all the grind that is expected to survive in this foreign land. Strong as he was, a true jatt, he not just survived but with his endurance and hard work, became successful. It was a sigh of great relief when he got the most coveted 'green card'. Dont ask how he managed it. So the land of opportunity was turning out to be good to him. He got his wife and son from Punjab. Now he had to work twice as hard. He got his wife a job and as a true hard working 'jatti', it was not long that she started driving on the freeway of Los Angeles.. Wow!!..the taste of freedom was so much exhilirating! . She realized, life just began for her and sky was the limit !!
With sheer hard work they both managed to buy a restaurant; worked hard throughout the day and came back home all tired and exhausted, but satisfied. Their young son Goldie was growing up .They were just too happy to provide him with all the goodies they could afford . They were providing him with everything, but, the most wanted thing, their time and sanskaar. The whole day he was in the company of his friends; embibing their ways and trying to fit in amongst them.
 One day it so happened that Nachhattar came home early. He saw his son snoring away on the carpet with a remote in his hand. He got a jolt when he saw a Blue x-rated film running on the huge TV screen. He just couldn’t help himself; pulled out the belt from his trousers and started hitting the young boy. The boy was in excruciating pain; didnt realize what hit him. When he got to his senses, he caught hold of the belt and threatened to call the police. His this attitude infuriated Nachhattar so much that for a second he lost his mind and hit him two more blows. By that time the son was already on the phone with the police. Police arrested the dad; went through all the legalities and the verdict was, that Nachhattar was ordered to take the anger management class. The humiliation was too much for him and his wife. Son getting father arrested was a big news for the small Gurdwara community. This was a new low for the Indian community.. 'to what level the young kids are falling!' .
 Slowly things came to normal. Things were not really forgotten, but put behind. Time passed..  year passed.. everything looked normal in the household..

One day Nachhattar Singh asked his son if he wanted to attend a cousin’s wedding in India. He was going and if Goldy wanted to tag along, he was welcome. Weddings are great celebrations in India with all the pomp and show , loud music and bhangra. Goldy couldn’t resist the temptation. Mother was left behind for the care of the business and off went 'piyo puttar', the father -son duo. Nachhattar looked real happy to take his son along. So, off they flew to India.

After 24 hrs of exhausting flight they landed at the IGI Airport in Delhi. All went well, till Nachhattar was holding his shoe in his hand and beating his son right, left and centre..”Saale police nu sadh da si, hunn bula police..” (saale, u were calling the police on me, now call the police). Goldie was taken aback by such turn of events. People came forward; held Nacchattar’s hand; asked why he was behaving like that with his son. Nachhattar narrated to them how and why his own son had called police on him in US. This infuriated the seniors of Indian community who were standing in front of the conveyer belt waiting for their luggage. They took off their shoes too and joined Nachhattar in beating his son. Seeing all the commotion, the airport police arrived. When they heard what Nachhatar said , they also slapped the young lad on his face.. “saale baap te police sadh da hai..ik hor maaro saale di boothi te”.. (saale baap par police bulata hai, ek aur maaro isske muh par)..

Goldie couldn't believe what was happening to him.  To resolve the matter, some people suggested Goldie to touch his dad's feet and ask for forgiveness. To save his skin, he did just that. The emotionally charged dad held his son in his arms and kissed him on his forehead. Goldie could see the tears in his father;s eyes. All was forgotten that very moment. Outside the airport his uncles and cousins were waiting to recieve them. There was a spate of 'jhappiyaan pappiyaan' and all drove back to their village in Punjab, happy.

Amidst his family,he saw how closely knit they all were. He saw his uncle slap his son when he would not listen to him. But at night, he would feed the very same boy, morsels with his own hands. He saw his uncle searching all through the bazaar for the cricket set his son so much wanted. But wouldnt think twice before reprimanding him for the actions he didnt approve of. Hitting the kids was the part and parcel of the culture here.Parents owned the kids and not the state. The kids were a part of their 'being'; their extension and not a separate entity.The responsibility of raising the child was theirs. Parents are held responsible if they fail in their responsibility. Hence they went all out to make sure that the child was on the right track even if it meant hitting them. Throughout his stay here Goldie was at his best behaviour.

Nachchattar came closer to his son too. Goldie was tagging along with him like a shadow everywhere. Nachhattar had all the time for him. He realized how in the rig-ma-rol of life he had compromised the small little moments of happiness. They both had gone through the much needed refresher course.

When they came back home after a month in the village, Goldy had become a ‘good boy”. No one knows what worked for him.. the shoe beatings or the naseehat of the village elders..........( Poonam Dogra)

                   



छोटी सी आशा

कमाठीपुरा के छोटे से अंधियारे कमरे में रहती है वो। उम्र 17 , पांचवीं पास। अखबार वो पढ़ती नहीं।बस टीवी देखती है। आये दिन सुनती है 'gang rape' की खबरें। उसके लिए इसमें रोज़मर्रा से अलग क्या था।हुंह ,औरत तो हमेशा भोग्या ही रही है। वोह भी तो रोज़ परसती है इस जिस्म को कभी 7-8, कभी 8-10 पुरुषों के आगे।पहले पहल रोती थी कलपती थी। मन फड़फड़ा कर उड़ जाना चाहता था। हर तरह के पुरुष आते थे।तरह तरह की यातनाओं से गुज़ारना पड़ता था उसे।शरीर के साथ आत्मा को भी लील जाते थे। अब शरीर सुन्न पड़ गया है उसका। आँखें मींचे , मुट्ठियाँ भींचे बस पल गुज़र जाने का इंतज़ार करती है वो।
उसके लिए पुरुष होता ही है ऐसा, लिजलिज़ा सा।बाप भी था न ऐसा ही।शराब के नशे में रोज़ माँ को मारता पीटता, उसकी हड्डियां चिंचोड़ता। वह सहम कर आँख व कान बंद कर लेती।उसे रात कभी अच्छी नहीं लगी। क्यूंकि रात माँ की चीखों से दम तोडती।न उसने, न कभी बड़े भाई ने माँ को बचाने की कोशिश की।हमेशा से ऐसा ही देखा, कुछ भी , कभी बदला नहीं।
15 साल की उम्र थी जब बाप ने लंगड़े चाचा के साथ बम्बई भेज दिया था नौकरी करने को।माँ कातर दृष्टि से देखती रह गयी थी। शायद जानती थी की कहाँ जा रही है।लंगड़े चाचा ने सोंप दिया था उसे आंटी को। तब से यहीं है।
उसके लिए मरद सब एक से हैं। बाप, भाई, पड़ोस का भोंदू,,सब ...
हाँ टीवी में जो रोज़ गैंग rape के किस्से दिखाते हैं , उसे देख कभी मन कैसा कैसा हो जाता है।जो हर रोज़ 17 वर्ष की आयु में वह भोग रही है क्या वह gang rape नहीं है।फिर क्यूँ उसके लिए कोई आवाज़ नहीं उठाता। क्यूँ इसको 'धंदा ' कह कर मूह फेर लेते हैं लोग।
दूर कहीं चर्च का घंटा बजा। क्या कोई मसीहा उसके लिए भी उतर कर आएगा। कोई मसीहा, जो बस इतना कर दे, उसे खींच ले जाए ऐसी दुनिया में 'जहां मरद का साया तक न हो।'जहां वो रात को सोये तो यह डर न सताए की अभी कोई दरिंदा उसे खींच ले जाएगा नोचने, खसोटने को।जहां वो सुख की नींद सो सके ,बिना डर .. बिना दहशत ...उसकी मुंदती पलकों में एक छोटी सी आशा जन्म ले रही थी.............poonam dogra

Sunday, July 14, 2013

SHE AND HER WIFE

Jenniffer.. or.. Jen,thats how she liked being called. She was our best employee till date. The tall, slim, white girl with brown hair and blue eyes. Her hair carelessly thrown back in a single plait. The girl with impeccable manners,addressing everyone as ‘ma’am’ or ‘sir', giving respect and demanding it too. Strictly a no nonsense type.No task was too big or too small for this hardworking lass.I was very impressed by her work ethics.  One day there wasn’t much work, so we sat together chatting.
”I bet you don’t know that I am pregnant,”she said. She told me she was already 4 months into it. I looked at her, the way she gently touched her abdomen , caressing the unborn .. and the pride in her eyes.
“O really!! Congrats!!.. It doesn’t show one bit.” I was really surprised. I asked her to take care and not to do the heavy stuff from now on..
“Don’t worry, I am just pregnant .. not disabled”,she laughed. I couldn’t help admiring her that moment.
“So is this your first child?”
“No, I have two more from my wife’s ex-husband.”
Ummm??.. did I hear it right!! ..or my ears have started giving up!!.. or a figment of my imagination!!.. My mind a bit confused, and then, suddenly it dawned on me.. she was gay!! She was enloying my confusion as I could see it writ on her face. Perhaps she was used to such reactions and probably enjoyed it too.
“But then, how come this pregnancy?” I couldn’t help asking. 
 “I got myself artificially inseminated. Me and my wife thought it was time we had a baby together.”
 Hmmm ..strange are the times, I thought.  As I watched her closely,I could clearly see that she was basking in the glory of impending ‘motherhood’( or ‘fatherhood’), I should say. I don’t know, but most certainly her ‘parenthood’.Her ‘wife’ threw a nice baby shower party for her. Her whole family and friends joined in  laughing, singing, playing games and making merry as if nothing was unusual in this kind of strange relationship. Later she told me that everyone but her grandmother, knew the truth about the whole situation. She was told that the baby was hers and her boyfriend’s, and that they were not together anymore. Eveyone was congratulating her and her ‘wife’. They both were accepting the blessings and good wishes very gracefully.They both looked like any other happy couple. It was all so surreal to me. The shock of it shattered my inhibitions. It was a moment of great revelations.. a moment of truth . The traditional concept of family is changing.. a new family, a modern one, was taking shape right in front of my eyes. The social structure had changed quietly with time. Relationships are not bound anymore with the constraints of dos and don’ts. The young people were accepting and adapting to their wants and needs uninhibitingly. Good ..or.. bad .. I dont know !! I could see that love and love alone was holding this family together. The fragility of it scared me. I prayed from the bottom of my heart that this family stays strong and together, always .......                                                                                                ...PoonamDogra....
  

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Kahee-Ankahee..

Kuchh Mithaas..  NazroN Ki..
Kuchh Garmaahat .. PyaaloN Ki..
Kuchh Bhaap .. Ankahe ShabdoN Ki
Kuchh Namee .. Anbahee BoondoN Ki..
Kitna Kuchh To Tha Hamaare Beech
Do Chai Ke PyaaloN Ke Sivaa....................Poonam Dogra

कुछ मिठास ..नज़रों की
कुछ गर्माहट .. प्यालों की
कुछ भाप ..अनकहे शब्दों की
कुछ नमी ..अन्बही बूंदों की
कितना कुछ तो था हमारे बीच
दो चाय के प्यालों के सिवा ...............................Poonam Dogra

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Ek Garrm Chai Ki Pyali...Aur Tumhara Saath...




Subah Savere
Ek Garrm Chai Ki Pyali
Aur Tumhara Saath...
Narrm Si Thand
Garrm Sa Lihaaf
Alsaayee Subah Mein
Alsaaye Honthon Se
Alsaayee Nazron Ki
Alsaayee Si Baat...
Ek Garrm Chai Ki Pyali
Aur Tumhara Saath


By: Poonam Dogra

 

 सुबह सवेरे
एक गर्र्म चाय की प्याली
और तुम्हारा साथ...
नर्म सी ठंड
गर्र्म सा लिहाफ़
अलसाई सुबह में
अल्साए होंटों से
अलसाई नज़रों की
अलसाई सी बात...
एक गर्र्म चाय की प्याली
और तुम्हारा साथ...

द्वारा: पूनम डोगरा