Topsy-Turvy

At the stroke of midnight as Leh lulled to sleep, the four of us were readying ourselves for our tryst with destiny. All geared up with gaiters, snow boots, harness and crampons ready for the climb, we were awaiting the final call for summit from our Trek leader, Nitesh. It was windy since couple of days and the rain god was smiling blissfully at the Stok mountains. During the day the azure sky was filled with fluffy clouds which occasionally were nudged by the playful wind to give a glimpse of the snow-clad mountains. It seemed as if a game of hide-n-seek was in play.   The bright red, yellow and blue tents spread across the base camp looked like a necklace embedded with precious jewels was adoring the neck of the alpines. All these looks celestial but its not a good weather for the summit. If it continues raining, the summit would be aborted. Here in my tent, listening to the pitter patter of the rain and the hustling sound of the cool breeze, I am wondering what was in s

I was born and brought up in a chawl in the suburbs of mumbai. Nani gave me my first pet name. Nani, our land lady was a muslim widow and had lost her husband early in her life and had no children. Nature didn’t stop at taking away people from her life but also took her eyesight. She stayed alone and her relatives who stayed nearby used to send her lunch and dinner packed in a dabba. She made it a point every single day to share her food with me. It comprised mostly of bheja and kalegi. I just loved the food. She used to wait for me till I came back from school to share her lunch with me. I sat on her lap and she told me stories. Her stories never repeated. She was my first book of panchtantra. Whenever she heard my mom scolding or beating me (yes, parents were allowed to hit their child in those days), she used to scold my mother. She called me ‘Munna’. Even now when I go to a restaurant, if there is a bheja on the menu, I will always order it. Even when there is no bheja fry on the m

The cool breeze was brushing across my face. The river made its serpentine pass through the gorge. Most of the river was frozen to form a white sheet of ice above it and the part that wasn’t, was flowing ferociously between the mountains. The first rays of the sun were caressing the majestic mountain swathed in snow. The turquoise tents laid across the mountain base sparkled like a jade necklace. The smoke from the burning wood on which our morning tea was being prepared, added the earthy flavor to this pristine landscape. The cool breeze, the flowing river, the fluttering of tents formed a beautiful symphony orchestrated by Nature.  As said by George Santayana – ‘The earth has its music for those who will listen’; and here I was completely drenched in this music. It couldn’t have been more picturesque than this. Mind was still, heart overwhelmed; it was oneness of body and soul. This was the view from my tent at Nerak on the fourth day of my Chadar trek. A trek that got its na

उस दिन की भी क्या बात थी कुछ पल ही सही, वो मेरे साथ थी ॥१॥ ना कोई कस्मे ना कोई वादे बस उस मुलाकात की थी कुछ बातें॥२॥ जानते थे की कोई मंज़िल नहीं इस राह की हमने तो उस सफर को ही अपना नसीब समझ लिया ॥३॥ उसके साथ बिताये लम्होंमे, खुद को कभी था खोया आज उसकी ख़ामोशी में, हमने अपना ही इंतज़ार किया ॥४॥ आँखें नम थी, होठ भी सिले थे बस एक दूसरे को देखकर हमने सारा वक़्त गुज़ार लिया ॥५॥ खुश थे उसे खुश देख कर, आज हमने भी अपनी ख़ुशी का थोड़ा दिखावा कर लिया ॥६॥

लमहा लमहा जोड़, एक कहानी ज़िन्दगी, उस कहानी में तुम न होती, तो कहानी कुछ और होती ॥१॥ तुम्हें रस्मों रिवाज़ों की परवा न होती, थोड़ी हिम्मत मुझमें और होती, तो कहानी कुछ और होती ॥२॥ प्याला हो सागर में न खुदको डुबाया होता, ये दिल अगर संग-ए-दिल ही होता, तो कहानी कुछ और होती ॥३॥ कुछ दूर और तू साथ निभाती, तू होती, तेरा प्यार होता, तो कहानी कुछ और होती ॥४॥ काश के तेरे सवालों का मेरे पास कोई जवाब होता, इंतज़ार न सही, तुझे थोड़ा एतबार ही होता, तो कहानी कुछ और होती ॥५॥ ज़िन्दगी के उस मोड़ पे न मिले होते हम, कुछ दूर ही सही, पर साथ न चले होते हम, तो कहानी कुछ और होती, तो कहानी कुछ और होती ॥६॥

कड़कड़ाती सर्दी में, जब सुबह की धुप निकले  अपने बरामदे में,खुर्सी पर बैठं एक पुरानी किताब के मुड़े पंनोंको सीधा करू  बस मैं इतना चाहता हूँ ||१ || बर्फ की सफ़ेद चादर, जब  पहाड़ो पे लिपटी हो सर्द हवा कापते बदन को सहलाये मैं अपने माज़ी के साथ, कुछ पल बिताऊं  बस मैं इतना चाहता हूँ || २ ||  बारिश की बूंदे जब  पेड़ो के सरसराते पतों को छूकर  मिटटी की बाहो में जा सिमटे  उस  मिटटी में अपने बच्चों के साथ खेलु  बस मैं इतना चाहता  हूँ  || ३ || सागर में उठती लहरे, जब  किनारे को छूती हो  गीली रेत पर अपने साथी का हाथ थामे कुछ दूर मैं चलू बस मैं इतना चाहता हूँ  || ४ || जब वक़्त, उम्र का हिसाब  मेरे चेहरे पर झुर्रियों से लिख रहा हो ज़िन्दगी को मुस्कुरातें हुए  अपने कब्र पर मैं देखु  बस मैं इतना चाहता हूँ   बस मैं इतना चाहता हूँ  || ५ ||