kab tak dil kii Khair manaaye.n, kab tak raah dikhaaoge

this is particularly about recent disturbing developments in the hindi film industry called bollywood.

we have had sexy, suspense, action, thrillers, 36, china town, gangster, tathastu, aparichit (dubbed) (all movies of emraan-all-i-can-do-is-kiss hashmi is one mention).

we have had our share of comedy too with malamal weekly, pyare mohan, tom, dick, and harry (all of priyadarshan's mallu remakes are fast approaching towards 'one mention', but we will wait and watch till phir hera pheri.)

attempts called humko deewana kar gaye, mistress of spices (english but ms rai makes it includable), banaras.

then himesh reshamayya has taken all these and more under his musical wings and i cannot differentiate the genre (if any) by films music anymore.

all we get is news about "movies in making" of all the big guys... from dhoom 2 to don 2. (season of sequels but that does not trouble me so much)

and of course rumours! mostly about aishwarya rai (someday we will stop talking about her - her relationships, her dresses, her accessories, stories about how she fell or had an accident etc etc). Few about Amitabh's recovery (yes we are not over it, it is called diverticulitis of media).

where are the films that are obviously, vividly, clearly, gooey predictable, chocolatyyy, funny and sad in the same breath...

"tum agar isse shadi karogi to meri lash par se guzarna hoga (nahinnnnn!!!!),"
"humen is duniya ki koi taqat juda nahin kar sakti (like anyone in duniya cares),
"tumne yeh soch bhi kaise liya ki tum meri beti se pyaar kar sakto" (not very difficult if your beti is a phataka like sonali bendre, urmila, juhi, madhuri, raveena, karishma, kareena, priyanka etc etc.)

raj, tum kahan chale gaye raj???

raj alias rahul malhotra, yeh aankhen tumhari ek jhalak dekhne ke liye aaj bhi tadap rahi hain...

this could be withdrawal symptoms for shahrukh khan, salman khan and likes of them (they are very very few you see!!!) or what???


kab tak dil kii Khair manaaye.n, kab tak raah dikhaaoge
Faiz Ahmed Faiz

kab tak dil kii Khair manaaye.n, kab tak raah dikhaaoge
kab tak chain kii mohalat doge, kab tak yaad na aaoge

biitaa diid ummiid kaa mausam, Khaak u.Datii hai aa.Nkho.n me.n
kab bhejoge dard kaa baadal, kab barkhaa barasaaoge

ahad-e-vafaa aur tark-e-muhabbat jo chaaho so aap karo
apane bas kii baat hii kyaa hai, hamase kyaa manavaaoge

kisane vasl kaa suuraj dekhaa, kis par hijr kii raat Dhalii
gesuo.n vaale kaun the, kyaa the, un ko kyaa jatalaaoge

'Faiz' dilo.n ke bhaag me.n hai ghar basanaa bhii luT jaanaa bhii
tum us husn ke lutf-o-karam par kitane din itaraaoge

dil-e-man musaafir-e-man ...

what is hmmm...
a pause, a thought, a moment...

sometimes a moment of confusion
sometimes a transient position...
sometimes a sigh of relief...
sometimes an assertion of belief...
hmmm...
is alleged to be weak and shaky...
mistaken and misunderstood to be flaky...
no hmmm is not a pause, nor a comma...
i dont want to attach grammatical metaphors...
it is an expression... an emotion...
sometimes vacant, and empty,
yes, but nothing is something...
like every question,
is a beginning of an answer...
sometimes an answer itself!
hmmm is not biding time...
nor is it evading the real point...
hmmm may be a wordless thought
but not a pointless one...
hmmm asks, hmmm states,
hmmm sulks, hmmm smiles...
hmmm speaks...
this stupid expression called hmmm!
hmmm...

dil-e-man musaafir-e-man ...

faiz ahmed faiz

mere dil mere musaafir
huaa phir se hukm saadir
ke vatan badar ho.n ham tum
de.n galii galii sadaaye.N
kare.n ruKh nagar nagar kaa
ke suraaG koii paaye.N
kisii yaar-e-naamaabar kaa
har ek ajanabii se puuchhe.n
jo pataa thaa apane ghar kaa
sar-e-kuu-e-naashanaayaa.N
hame.n din se raat karanaa
kabhii is se baat karanaa
kabhii us se baat karanaa
tumhe.n kyaa kahuu.N ke kyaa hai
shab-e-Gam burii balaa hai
hame.n ye bhii thaa Ganimat
jo koii shumaar hotaa
hame.n kyaa buraa thaa maranaa
agar ek baar hotaa

London, 1978

[saadir=announced; vatan badar=exiled]
[naamaabar=letter carrier (postman)]
[kuu-e-naashanaayaa.N=unknown streets]

jaanewalese mulaqat na hone payee...

naushad ali is dead... an era is over... perhaps the most important witness of the golden era of hindi film industry is no more... the guy who blended western classical and hindustani to come up with some of the greatest songs... the only dude to get bade gulam ali khan to sing in a movie... purist... struggled for days and months before his first big break in 1940s... ok i must admit... all this i got to know in the last one week...

what i know is this...

uthaye ja unake sitam... aur jiye ja... yun hi muskuraye ja.. aansu piye ja...

hai ishq yeh sab duniyawale... bekar ki baatein karte hain... payal ke gamonka ilm nahin... jhankaar ki baatein karte hain...

shab intezaar akhir.. kabhi hogi mukhtasar bhi... yeh chiraag... yeh chiraag bujh rahen hai... mere saath jalte jalte... yun hi koi mil gaya tha... mere sath chalte chalte...

afsana likh rahi hun.. dil e bekarar ka.. aankhon mein rang bhar ke tere intezaar ka...

tu ganga ki mauj mein jamuna ki dhara... hoke rahega milan ye hamara tumhara...

man tarpat hari darshan ko aaj...

mere mehboob mein kya nahin kya nahin.. woh to lakhon mein hai ek haseen...

aaj hum apni duaaon ka asar dekhenge... teer e nazar dekhenge... zakhm e jigaar dekhenge... jaanleva hai muhabbat ka safar aaj ki raat... shamma ho jayegi jal jal ke dhuaan aaj ki raat... aaj ki raat... aaj ki raat bachenge to zeher dekhenge... teer e nazar dekhenge... zakhm e jigaar dekhenge..

when i stood in front of aashiyana, his residence on carter road, bandra, i could hear the sea faint and vague... i peeped in and saw naushad ali saab lying peacefully... relatives around him... i stepped out quietly... something told me it was not a place or time for fans or strangers... let alone journalists...

the honking of angry auto and car drivers on a half constructed, half dug up road, tv journos running about for bytes of the mournful visitors... streams of sweat... cursing the summer... deadlines... research from 1937 when he left lucknow... reactions from friends and connoisseurs of music, his music, his times... press releases about demonstrations and cases and stories scheduled for the next day...

all this took over, enveloped, clouded, shadowed and swallowed...
the sea, the scortching sun, the songs, the sorrow...

jaanewalese mulaqat na hone payee... dil ki dil hi mein rahi... baat na hone payee...

tinakonka bas ek aashiyan...

shifting houses, shifting cities, shifting thoughts, shifting idelogies, shifting jobs, shifting beliefs, shifting pain, shifting shifting, moving, changing, transiting, walking, running, wobbling, going, going, going, reaching, may be, searching, ithaka, tired feet, tired eyes, yet no sleep... "dreamless sound sleep, is that not what we yearn for all our lives," asked socrates when he gulped the poison...

all these existential dilemmas and philosophical quests...

just because one shifts from one rented accomodation to another... just for another 11 months... and fixes bulbs and pipes... searches for cartons all day, three pin plugs that are over priced and don't finally fit, runs behind maids, curtainwallahs and gas agencies who refuse to part with a cylinder unless u buy the stove as well, sweep, buy the heaviest things first and walk all around market on a monday, mop, lose your way for first three whole days ...

so much for banal shallow blending with inane deep...

it's a nice house, with lotsa light and breeze... am hoping to have a good time here....

thodisi zameen, thoda aasman, tinakonka bas ek aashiyan...

turtles carry their home on their backs... how do they come home after a tiring day then? do they know that blissful feeling of thinking about our own home throughout the come-back-home journey and stepping in with a sigh of relief... sure this feeling is brief and temporary and momentary, as one is always searching and seeking, (or rushing to cook and clean) but still, it is a feeling turtles should know...