कितनी आंधिया है...

है कहाँ छप्पर 'रघु' की झोपडी का?

है कहाँ भगवान्? कितनी आंधिया है...

नाव को तट पर बंधी रहने दो माझी,

उठ रहा तूफ़ान कितनी आंधिया है...

वो शक्कर और तेल की कतार में खड़ा है,

घर में है मेहमान... कितनी आंधिया है...

भूख से जो मर गया उसकी चिता से

जल रहा शमशान, कितनी आंधिया है...

© स्व. प्रफुल्ल चतुर्वेदी

The Treasure Chest

It's been 10 days since I have actually started revisiting my 1st year books on the pretext of the coming screening exams. Last 9 days were all fine and encouraging for my Maa but this morning- you should have seen that!!! She was outraged... According to her, my books were "ALL OVER THE PLACE!" (I'm still not able to accept the fact that is it even possible?!) So in the process of cleaning up the room and making my books at one place instead of "All Over", I needed space since existing book shelves are already full. So I was instructed to make space in the one where my late father's books were kept. And She left for office after assigning me this painful task.

I know, after a year and 4 months this shouldn't be "painful" for me at all. But believe you me, it was still as tough as it would've been a year back. It was like I was actually invading his space. I was invading my Father's space! It still belongs to him, everything in there still has a copyright of Mr. Prafulla Chaturvedi. And getting rid of things from it was seeming a crime to me. I was sitting there, in front of the open book shelf, staring at it hopelessly. I had a smile on my face and tears in my eyes simultaneously...

Sitting there clueless, I don't know what hit me and I realised that at some point I have to do this. Make some space there... (and here too...). Eventually, the book shelf has to be made a little space in! "It can be like this forever, but it wont help!", as my best friend always says. So finally, with a heavy heart, I got back on my feet and started disturbing my Papa's space to make some for myself!

I did do it. I made space in that book shelf. I spaced it up by getting rid of the dust that got collected, by my childhood drawing books that he treasured, the photos of mine and Bhai's childhood-that were his fond memories. And I made some huge space by taking "The Treasure Chest" out of there...

Do you wanna know about that Treasure Chest?


Well, here you go! It's my Papa's diary. Yes, the diary that is still alive with his handwriting, still very much rich with his words. And, I know I'm not that good and even close to my Papa's work as a writer but today I realised from where I inherited this little talent that I behold- from my Papa! This diary, that initially I was hesitant to even open. But later, I recollected my Papa telling me about it. That he wrote poems about a few things and for a few people but never really bragged them! So, I dared barge in and I found all these poems.

As I said, he never bragged them. So, I guess I have the privilege of sharing the legacy. I will be posting some of his lines and I hope he is appreciated post-humus...

गुमशुदा!!!

एक लड़की की हमें तलाश है...

जो कहाँ खो गयी है पता नहीं...

तस्वीर उसकी भले ना हो,

पर इतनी भी वो आम नहीं...

वो है किसीकी नन्ही बिटिया...

जिसकी खिलखिलाती हंसी उनकी सुबह सजाती है.

जिसके कदमो की चंचल आहट उनका घर-आँगन मेहकाती है.

जिसकी आँखों की नमी उन सबको दहला जाती है.

और जिस अकेली की मायूसी सब कुछ वीरान कर जाती है.

वो है किसीकी प्यारी बहना...

जिसकी ख़ुशी की खातिर वो खुद बच्चा बन जाता है.

जिसको गर खरोच भी आये तो आंसू उसको आता है.

जिसकी जिद्द उसके लिए बस फरमान बन जाता है.

जिसे अगर कोई रुला जाये, वो उसका दुश्मन बन जाता है.

वो है किसीकी सहेली...

जिस से मिले बिना वो खुद को तनहा पाती है.

जिसकी खुशियो की बातें सुनके वो अपने दुःख भूल जाती है.

जिस से बात वो न करे तो बस गुमसुम सी रह जाती है.

जिसकी दोस्ती को वो उपरवाले की रहमत मानती है.

वो है किसीका ख्वाब...

जिसकी पायल की झंकार पर उसका जहां रुक जाता है.

जिसकी जुल्फों की घटा से उठा घना बादल उसको भिगा जाता है.

जिसकी एक मुस्कान के लिए वो अपना सब कुछ लुटा जाता है.

जिसकी जुबां पे आया हर लफ्ज़ उसकी सरगम  बन जाता है.

वो माँ उसे तलाश रही है, जिसकी आँखों का वो बेटी तारा है!

वो भाई उसे तलाश रहा है, जिसके स्नेह का वो पिटारा है!

वो सहेली उसे तलाश रही है, जिसके सुख दुःख की वो साथी है!

वो आँखे उसे तलाश रही है, जिसमे रोज़ बन ख्वाब वो आती है!

क्या आपने उसे कहीं देखा है?

Nazariya

Unki aawaz sunte he ek parwaaz dikhai deti thi...
Sunsaan akeli zindagi bhi, gulzaar dikhai deti thi...
Aaj na wo hai, na wo muskaan jo dikhai deti thi...
Ab mai bhi wo nahi, jo pehle dikhai deti thi...