Open mic एक भेल

Open mic एक भेल की तरह है
थोड़ा खट्टा , थोड़ा मीठा
और थोड़ा तीखा

Creative feathers हुआ डोंगा , भेल बनाने का
पहले steel का था
अब ये काँच का हो गया है
चमकता हुआ

चटनीयाँ है इसकी है audience
जिनके बिना ये भेल अधूरी है
खट्टी चटनी हुई अखिल सर जैसी टिपण्णीयाँ
मीठे चटनी वो लोग जो
तालियाँ बजाते है ,
चुटकियाँ चिटकाते है
गाने गुनगुनाते है और
इसके सुरूर में खो जाते है

इसमें singers तो हुए मुरमुरे या मूडी
जिसके बिना भेल का कोई अस्तित्व ही नहीं है
आजकल मखाना भी डलने लगा है
उसे हम western singers समझ लेते है
उनका english नाम किसी rock band जैसा ही है
FOXNUT

इनमें कुडमूड़ की आवाज़ देती है पापड़ी और बूंदी
यानी के musical instrument
जैसे guitar, violin, keyboard, flute, harmonica

फिर इसमें डालता है सलाद
जैसे प्याज़, टमाटर, उबला आलू, खीरा, कच्ची अम्बी
ये हुए यहाँ के विभिन्न रस के कवि
जो की अपने में भी संपन्न है
या सलाद की जुगलबंदी में भी
ये ही रूमानीयत और रुहिन्यत देते है
मतलब healthy बनाते है

चटकारे के लिए डलता है नींबू और चाट मसाला
यानी के standup comedian
जो कम समय में ज़्यादा असर दिखाते है
और देर तक जुबान रह जाते है

हरि मिर्च भी डालती है इसमें
जो तीखी होती है
यानी की roast comedy

decoration के लिये डालते है
हरा धनिया, बारीक सेव, अनार
ये हुए सच्ची झूठी किस्से कहानियाँ
कभी performance से पहले
कभी उसके बाद , कभी बीच में

और इस भेल की चम्मच है सर्वेश सर
जिससे हम लोग इसे बारी बारी खाते है
मतलब performance देखते है

पर भेल के साथ एक असमंजस की स्थिति भी बनती है
ये जो coffee की ख़ुशबू
हमारी नाक के साथ खिलवाड़ करती है
मन में तरेंगे उत्पन्न करती है
की यार एक तो ले लेते है
भेल के साथ कोई sandwich
या taco भी try कर लेते है
ये भेल हमारी भुख को और बढ़ावा देती है

हर हफ़्ते ये भेल बनती है
चटनी, मसाले, सलाद ऊपर नीचे होते रहते है
पर हर बार मजेदार बनती है
आज बावनवी भेल है
हम यही चाहेंगे की
आगे भी ये भेल हर हफ़्ते बने
सबको खट्टे मीठे चटकारे देती रहे

मासूम से मोहब्बत

क्या दिन थे वो
जब छोटे थे
मोहब्बत क्या होती है
क्या पता था
पर हो जाती है
ये भी नहीं पता था

कोई क्यूँ अचानक से अच्छा लगने लगता था
उसकी एक झलक के लिए घंटे भी पलों में गुजरते थे
कभी खिड़की से झांकते
कभी नुक्कड़ पर खड़े रहते
छत के चक्कर काटते
पड़ोस में जो रहने आयी थी वो

फिर उसने मेरे स्कूल में ही दाखिला लिया
सेक्शन अलग था
इसलिए उस क्लासरूम के भी चक्कर लगने लगे
उसकी क्लास के लड़के दोस्त बन गए
उसकी नज़र में आने की कोशिश में टिफिन वहीं खुलता था
इंटरवल में
उसकी डेस्क के आसपास
यूँ ही चक्कर कटता था
पानी की टंकी पर उसके इंतज़ार में
न जाने कितनी बोतले भरवा दीं
पर दिल नहीं भरता था

कोशिश यही रहती थी कि उसकी साथ निकलूँ
और उसके साथ ही साइकिल चला कर वापस आऊँ
यूँ मन करता था कि उसकी नज़र में अच्छा हो जाऊँ
अब पढ़ने का भी मन करने लगा था
क्योंकि वो पढ़ाई में अच्छी थी
क्रिकेट में भी कम और
बैडमिंटन में ज्यादा मन लगता था

उसकी मुस्कुराहट से बनता था दिन
और आंसुओ से दिल दहल जाता था
ऐसे ही स्कूल निकल गया
उसके आसपास मंडराते हुए

कॉलेज की छुट्टियों में
वो आती थी
तो मन फिर से हिलोरे मारने लगता था
ऐसा अटक गया था
कि कोई अप्सरा भी ये तपस्या न भंग कर पाती

बातचीत होती रही
पर भावनाओं को अभिव्यक्ति और
प्रेम को प्रत्यक्ष रूप न दे पाया

उससे प्रेरित होकर
काबिल हो गया हूं
सोचा मैं कुछ तो बन गया
तो मोहब्बत को आगे बढ़ाऊं

पर वो आगे बढ़ चुकी थी
उसे उसकी मोहब्बत मिल चुकी थी
झटका तो लगा
पर मन मसोसने वाली क्या बात थी
उसने जिसे चुना होगा
वो भी लाखों में कोई नगीना होगा

उसकी पसंद है
इसलिए ज़िद नहीं
नहीं तो हिटलर, मुसोलिनी, स्टालिन
मिला कर विश्वयुद्ध की झड़ियां लगा देता

और मोहब्बत है न
तो ज़िद कैसी
हासिल करना ही मकसद थोड़े है,
मोहब्बत तो ज़िंदाबाद थी,
ज़िंदाबाद है और,
ज़िंदाबाद रहेगी

उसकी यादों का झुरमुट
मेरी हर सांस में है
मेरी सफलता ही मोहब्बत है
मैं खुशनसीब हूं
की मोहब्बत के लायक बन पाया

गाजर का हलवा

घने कोहरे को भेदते हुए
मीठी सी धूप झाँकती है
इस चिलचिलाती ठंड में
कुछ मीठा खाने की दरकार होती है

तभी सब्ज़ी के ठेले पर
पालक, मेथी, बथुआ के हरे पत्तो के बीच
लाल गाजर जब दिखती है
तो मन में बस हलवे की ही तस्वीर बनती है

पर गाजर से हलवे तक का सफ़र आसान नहीं होता
मम्मी सबको काम पर लगा देती है
पहले मैं और भैया गाजर धोकर साफ़ करते है
फिर सब ladies मिलकर उसकी छीलती है
और gents उसको घिस कर लच्छे बनाते है
चारो तरफ़ लालिमा छा जाती है
जैसे ये दूब गेरुआ हो चली हो

हम तो इतने में ही थक जाते है
पर अभी तो मेन काम बाकी रहता है

वो लच्छा पता नहीं कितनी देर तक पकता है
कभी दूध, फिर मावा या milkmaid,
मेवा, मीठा,
फिर भुनाई,
जो घंटों तक चलती है
फिर मम्मी ऐसे भुनती है
जैसे मेरी और भैया की पिटाई कर रही हो

भून भून कर वो light red से dark red हो जाता है
(Lipstick लगाने वाले तो समझ ही गए होंगे)
मुझे तो दया ही आ जाती है
बेचारी गाजर के साथ क्या हो गया…

इतनी जद्दोजहद के बाद
सुबह से शाम होने के बाद
इतने लोगो के कड़े परिश्रम के बाद
मम्मी के cervical के pain के बाद

जब वो हलवा तश्तरी में सजा आता है
जिस पर मोती की तरह काजू बिखरे पड़े होते है
जीव्हालोलुप हो आँखें उसे चारो तरफ़ से घूरती है
और उसके एक कौर के जिह्वा से मिलन होने पर
जो तृप्ति इस मन को मिलती है
वो अतुलनीय, अविस्मरणीय, अप्रत्याशित, अभूतपूर्व है
दिव्य है !
जैसे देवो ने धरती पर उतर कर
ख़ुद कढ़ाई चला के परोसा दिया हो !

Kissed by a mosquito

I love to sleep
In my cosy bed
Under soft quilt
With my mushy cushion

I dress up in my velvety night suit
Follow my night routine
Brushing teeth
Washing face
Applying the
aromatic night cream
With shea butter
Moisturising hands
And foot too
Combing my hair
Putting lil perfume
You never know who comes in your dream !

I usurp in my inviting bedding
Read few pages of the 50 best stories
While sipping my cleansing green tea
Rich in antioxidants

Then I said my prayer
Switch of night lamp
And snuggl in my cosy bed

Checked my phone
There are no messages
From anyone
Which is both good and bad

I finally said my affirmations
To be a better person
Get better job
And a girlfriend too
Thinking about all this
I dozed off

In morning
I wake up
Fresh energetic
Remembering my dreams
One was a musical one
And tantalising too

Only to find out
Through mirror
That I have been
Kissed by a mosquito…
I just hope it was a female !

Love maggi

Like strands of our favorite maggi gets entangled into each other. Our love life too got mixed up. We are group of five friends, Amrita or Amy, Revti as Ray, Paridhi as Pary, Anirudh as Andy and me, Saurabh as Sebu.
Being in missionary school, our names got baptized.

Andy is coolest one, keeps himself busy in gym and sports. He doesn’t understand love and emotions. But as a hunk he attracts lot of attention and enjoys the limelight.

Pary is similiar. She is a guitarist, singer and song writer, a band in herself. Her tattoos are a book of philosophy.

Amy and Ray are toppers, sincere, focused, goal setters and achievers. While I, Sebu, has no such traits. Maybe its the reason I am writing about others life.

School was a jolly time. There were no worries except exam. We used to live in the same neighbourhood and available to each other for 24 hours. College may have created distance in kilometres but not in our heart. We kept in touch and met each other on holidays. But honeymoon of the life got over after we entered the race of bread and butter. Andy joined his family business. Pary followed her dream to pursue career in music. Me and Amy joined different company in same city while Ray worked in same company as Amy but located farthest of all. We continued to be together through whatsapp, concalls, vacations. I had been organising everything since school and may be the gel which kept our group together.

When the discussion for nuptials began at home, I felt differently toward my friends. For me Amy, Pary and Ray are suddenly not friends but girls. Since me and Amy are in same city, we meet quite frequently. When I tried to woo her, she snubbed me and even complained to Ray as I am closest to her. Ray only prompted me to ask out Amy. She even pushed me to Pary. But Pary being a free bird, did not believe in marriage or relationships. She is having time of her life in Mumbai.

After getting shoved by Amy, I was shaken. Later Amy confessed to Ray that she has crush on Andy since school days. Ray prodded me to ask Andy. Doing as instructed, I realised that he is no more a playboy and wanted to settle down. He liked Amy too but couldn’t express his feelings as he is afraid of losing friendship. None of us knew of about the coffee brewing under over noses. We finally became the matchmaker between Andy and Amy. To give back the favour, Andy and Amy tried to get me and Ray together. I was elated when Andy asked me about her because I was closest to Ray. But she never replied to this proposal. Finally I gathered the courage to face her directly. She reprimended me badly. I was shattered to pieces. Later Amy got to know that Ray and Pary are gay and have hots for each other since realisation of sexuality. Now section 377 being legalised they will be open about their relationship.

The news dropped on me like a nuclear bomb. I felt jealous and embarrassed. Not even a single girl of three is interested in me. Am I that bad ? If my childhood friends don’t find me good enough, how will any other girl? This love maggi is disgusting. It has become a khichdi.

I isolated myself by quitting the WhatsApp group and stopped picking up calls. I avoided them even on home visits. As dust was settling inside me, one fine Friday evening all four of them suddenly appeared in my office so that I do not create any scene. After winding up the week, they kidnapped me. They tied my hands and gagged my mouth. Nobody uttered a word. After a long drive, we reached our hometown before dawn but did not go home. I panicked, jumped, cried but none of them reacted. I had to give them signs that nature is calling continuously. The boys accompanied me, pulled my pants and ordered to do my business before them. It felt like a prisoner of war and wanted to proclaim my rights under Geneva Convention.

While we were waiting outside the park near our neighbourhood, a familiar face was approaching with light of the day. It was my neighbour Parul. She was blushing but shocked to see me tied. It was than anyone spoke for the first time since evening and told me how she had childhood crush on me which I did not notice. They found out when Parul met them in a marriage party in our locality and enquired about me. They kept quite about the whole situation while she continued saying how I was always busy with them and ignoring others. She also noticed my unusual behaviour during recent home visits. After she left, her abnormal inquisitiveness raised doubts among them. The group ganged up. They met Parul again and kind of interrogated her. She gave in about her interest in me. Then this plan was hatched by the gang for making up to me and that’s the reason I am tied up before her like a prisoner.

Andy, Amy, Pary and Ray said in unison “Thank us later in evening when we welcome new member to the gang. Till then both of you can fulfill your appetite of love.” It is best surprise of my life. Love maggi is not that bad after all.

Love in times of corona

Today is our 20th wedding anniversary. We planned to have our customary dinner date. Considering our work schedule, the dinners are rare occasion. I being a marketing man and she working as consultant, airports, cabs & hotels started giving us homely feeling. But due to Corona fear, the business has slowed down. With time available in excess now, I decided to prepare dinner at home itself. It has been long since I have picked up ladle and knife in kitchen. I had to depend my maid to locate things. But my hands still knew how to make the signature dishes Malai Kofta, Pyaz Pulav, Bharva Bhindi, Lachchha Paratha and Sevaiyon ki kheer. The aroma of spices made me nostalgic. It took me to early years of marriage when I wooed her by cooking skills. How she used to sit on kitchen shelf, irritating me by hiding things or finding faults in my methods. Once she handed me amchoor powder instead of garam masala and whole gravy was ruined. We had to eat maggi. But with love in the air, that too felt like having a Valentine’s dinner.

It’s ancient history now. After we lost our child due to one of these mysterious fevers, we became mute and kind of blamed ourselves. We reminded each other of the tragedy so immersed ourselves in work and started travelling extensively to avoid home. We looked for peace outside or became accustomed to agitation inside us, it’s incomprehensible.

She returned from office with plan to dine out as usual. As she entered home, she was surprised to smell the aroma and shockingly asked me “What are you doing, Uday ?

I welcomed her with Thandai and told her “Hi Roshni, the meeting got cancelled so I came early and thought of cooking at home for change”

She replied “We could have gone to a restro. Why did you take all the trouble ?”

Things had become so dead that any uprising of emotions was resisted. We feared that even an iota love will bring back the dark memories.

I replied her “I have prepared restro like food. You freshen up. I will prepare the parathas”

She said “Wait, don’t make all of them at once. You cook them too much and it becomes like papad.”

And the nagging was back. But the old times too. She was happy to see the spread on table but resisted the expression. We were cooking together. That was some global warming to our arctic iceberg. I wished her Happy Anniversary with spoon full of sevaiyan. Tears welled up in her eyes. It was time of emotional.turmoil. I too became sentimental and we consoled each other. We had never cried together. I believe sometimes tears are necessary to wash off the past. It’s an irony how a deadly virus revived love which was killed by another of its kind.