Inception-- Of A Rendezvous

There are some things in life we seem to cherish only when our continuously ignored desires overcome our rational beliefs. I was undergoing the same thing when they crossed the threshold level in my mind and I finally decided to give into what my heart had been telling me to do since the past few months. Incidentally for me, it was a December night. It had been more than a year since my life had taken the most recent turn and I was on a journey that I pursued to find a destination I would love. I had come far from my history such that I could be ready to dive into the unexpected experiences in life. But I was unable to find a course on my journey. I was unsure of where I had wanted to go, may be not much unsure about the where, but about the how part.
                                               

I had wanted to abandon routine for a while then, my job, my life, my circle(which is confined as such because I don't interact with people regularly)and longed to step out and find out what I had been looking for. I had wanted to shut myself from everywhere to set out on a new journey. 

Well, that isn't easy enough when you have 

1. a stable job , 

2. a dearth of leaves from your workplace, 

3. a bubbling desire to transform the mundane into magic,

4. your parents who are there and get worried if you talk about alienating yourself from the world. (They think you have undergone some Psychological change and ask you to socialize or worse, to get married, neither of which seems like an option to you, because they fear you might leave the routine and escape to the Himalayas, which isn't the case most of the times.)

So this was quite an insight for me to cover. But I wasn't going to a remote village in the Himalayas as my parents would think. I was going to a familiar place, a place that wasn't related to me in any way but which I had always loved, a place which unknowingly reminded me of my roots, of who I used to be when I was a kid. I didn't know if I had questions. I didn't even know if I sought answers. But I had an instinct which drove me to that place, and I had known that I never regretted my impulsive, intuitive actions. I was, at a bus station on a December night, because impulsive decisions don't give you the liberty to adjust the flight or train schedules, and I needed to accept that fact too. I waited for my bus to arrive, of course, enjoying the chill, because December brings warmth to me, for unknown reasons.
                                               
I had to switch two trains and a bus to and that was an intermediate station from where I had to board a bus to reach my destination. As I waited for my bus to arrive, I was engrossed in the book I was reading. It was by my favourite author of course, Paulo Coelho. My intermediate stop was a small but the most prominent and the safest one in the vicinity since it was a small hill station on my way. This wasn't the usual route but my impulsive plan had made me take the longer and the unusual route to reach the place. I wasn't there to visit hill stations for that matter. I was travelling to a place that felt mine and it was just going to be for a day. Amidst the cold night, I was waiting for it to snow but there were no signs of even a single flake.

I decided to take a look around and observe the place. There wasn't much commotion. The only passengers apart from me waiting in the lobby of that bus station were an elderly couple and a woman probably in her late forties. The old couple seemed lost, trying to find comfort and warmth in each other. Yes, it was cold. Just that I loved it much to ignore the fact. The elderly woman asked for a cup of tea and he rose, leaving the shawl for her. The woman noticed me looking at them and smiled. I smiled back and realized I seemed like a stalker, so I shifted my attention towards the woman. She was alone I assumed. I couldn't see her face clearly. Her gaze was fixed at a distance in the dark. I wondered if she thought about things which went on in my mind occasionally, but then sidetracked the idea because it seemed too weird.

It was 9:30 at night and the place already seemed deserted. My bus was expected to arrive in another ten minutes and would take 5 hours to reach my destination. I calculated that I would be just in time for something I didn't want to miss. The announcement for my bus was made at last. I grabbed my bag and headed towards the indicated area. It was going to be a long journey, so I plugged in my earphones and decided to get some rest. It wasn't my hour to sleep but it was my hour to contemplate in the most active form I could. I opened the pages in my mind and wondered what questions wandered in the deepest oceans I had been trying to avoid.

I didn't realize when I had dozed off. It was only when I heard the bus tires screeching that I woke up. Something had gone wrong. The driver informed us that the engine had broken down and it was difficult to get it repaired before morning.We were at the outskirts of the city. I checked the time. It was 2-30 in the morning and dark and cold. I had to reach the Peace Pagoda Monastery by 4-30 in the morning in order to join the prayer. I was going to be in Darjeeling only for a day and I didn't want to miss that. I looked around to check what the other passengers would do in the midst of the wilderness. Most of them decided to wait till the morning. I contemplated upon the lonely half an hour walk to the Monastery from there, the risks involved and the dangers of getting lost in an unknown place.

I gathered courage and decided to walk up to my destination. Just when I had started walking along the hillside, I heard footsteps following me in the dark. I turned around but couldn't see anyone. Baffled, I raced my steps and continued to walk. After almost half an hour of walking, I still couldn't see lights and began to worry a little. It was a hilly forest, an unknown city and its outskirts and I was alone. This could be foolishly unsafe. I wondered where this impulsive decision could lead me just when I heard my name. I got startled. It wasn't obvious for anyone to call me by my name in this place, in the middle of nowhere.                                                                                  

                                                     

Cautiously, I turned again and saw a woman waving at me. She approached me and it was only when she got close enough, I realized that she was the same woman whom I had seen at the bus station. I still couldn't see her face clearly though but I sighed with relief.

As she smiled at me, I blurted with a little anxiety, "Err..do you know the way to Peace Pagoda Monastery from here? I think I am lost and I need to reach over there by 4-30. Could you please help me?"

"I was going the same way. I stay in the Monastery. You aren't lost, you just seem to have taken a circled route around the hill. It doesn't mean you won't get there on time,"

"No, it doesn't mean that", I looked at her intently. Her gaze was different, more like a motherly gaze, but seemed familiar. I couldn't understand why. We started walking, rather I started following her, as if enchanted by her demeanour. She looked elegant in every way, a woman dressed in a simple saree, moving around calmly, with no visible aura of negativity around her. There was silence between us, but it didn't seem awkward. For reasons I didn't know, her presence made all my previous anxieties of being lost, fade away in the mist.

                                                 

And then she chose to break the silence, "What does a 26 year old woman in the middle of this hilly forest far from her world, think about battles?"

Her question surprised me. How could a stranger know about me so accurately. Did she look up for me purposely? I doubted for a minute and then composed myself to look normal and answered, "Well Ma'am, she thinks everyone fights a battle. They just need to know the purpose and their reasons."

"What if they cannot figure them out?", her question startled me again, because that was exactly what I had been thinking all along my journey.

"Eventually everyone does I guess."

"And what do you think about those who can't do it in the moment? Do you think they are lost?"

I didn't know what to answer.

She continued," I guess you know the answer. You just feel reluctant to acknowledge it."

"I am not sure what the answer should be. I feel it is alright to find answers on my own, the way I want. But I survive in a world where timing becomes a crucial factor perhaps. I could talk about battles, winning them, losing them or abandoning them for my own reasons, but nobody knows what will work out in the long run. I may not seem to know what I seek. Or may be I have the answers, but the questions which haunt me ruin them all."

She listened to me without looking back, but stopped and waited till I reached by her side, before she started walking again. My flashlight had turned off. She handed me a small battery-powered light. The wind seemed to creep in through my jacket but that didn't bother me. I had always loved this chill. I couldn't hide my smile. She had noticed it. She broke the silence once again.

"Have you heard the story of a girl who didn't know who she was until she lost a battle?"

I hadn't. I nodded in disagreement.

She continued, "There was this girl in an ancient kingdom. She grew up in the local tribe, but did not know how to fight. She wasn't supposed to join the wars that they fought. Years later, when they started teaching their girls how to fight, she learnt it too. But it wasn't until she found a secret hidden in the hills far away that she realized she could find her sword, and use it to protect her people and win over all the battles. She did find her sword and used that secret. She thought she had found her purpose. That it was all she had to do in her life. Little did she know that the misleading secret had been placed by her enemies purposely because they knew her abilities. And they knew that intoxicating one's thoughts was far more powerful than inflicting a physical injury, if they wanted to win over something."

"By inducing weakened ideas they could affect her mind forever?" I asked.

She nodded and continued,"You are getting there. A thought that is fed by a belief which turns out to be untrue, hampers a complete wave of actions and subsequent abilities. Everything was fine until she entered the battle but lost it."

"But she did have her sword? It wasn't governed by secrets! She knew how to fight, didn't she?"

"I am glad you can realize that. She hadn't been able to for some time. Like all of us. It was only when she felt completely lost and desolate, that she couldn't find a purpose on her journey. She didn't know why she was heading further and didn't understand what she had to seek. But it was then, that she wanted to go on and start over. All she knew was to sharpen her sword and use it. And that didn't require any secrets. She could hate that sword because it had made her forget her skills and rely on a secret which didn't exist. It was a reminder of her mistakes. But she didn't discard it."

I didn't want to interrupt her, but I could imagine myself fighting a battle without a purpose. I didn't know if she was making up that story, but it felt right.

"What happened next?", I couldn't stop myself from asking her.

"Again you know the answer already. She didn't have to discard her abilities or her sword for her mistakes. It is alright to make the wrong choices and not know where to go further. She didn't know what she could do, so she just did what she knew and wanted to do. She sharpened her sword and her abilities, which didn't require any secret. It was more like a penance for years. She felt she was lost but she wasn't. She was just rebuilding herself from the scratch not to fall ever. And then she entered the battlefield again. Of course she won this time. Can you tell me why?"

"Because she knew that it wasn't any magical secret which needed to be known now. Rather, she didn't rely upon it anymore. She only believed in her toiling efforts of valour and strength. She believed in her ability and faith to win, and in her conquest of being lost and found, she knew the journey had been necessary. She endured it all and admired it too", it was my turn to smile now, which she seemed to notice through the faint light.

"Well, it takes a lot to acknowledge this. People seldom find their purpose at the right time, but then all the turns they take lead them where they are supposed to be."

We had reached the gate of the Monastery. She directed me inside and said,"I am sure you will find all your answers within. Peace is what you seek outside, peace is what gets reflected from inside. But if it makes you happy, you can make it a point to visit this place for a single day, any time you like, or Winter if that's how you like it."

"How do you know that about me?" I was in disbelief.

"You know the answer", she replied.

As she said that, it started to snow. It soothened me from within. I had been waiting for it to snow ever since I had entered the vicinity. But listening to the story had made me forget that I had wanted to ask her how she knew so much about me. I directed her flashlight in my hands towards the point where she was supposed to be standing, but there was nobody. I tried to look for her everywhere, but she wasn't there.

The alarm in my phone notified me that it was 4-20 AM. I dropped the idea of finding her. Enlightened, soothened and a bit confused, I joined the prayer. The humming, chanting and praying made me enter a state of trance where I found myself in the middle of the same forest where I had been some time ago. But it was soothing this time. I contemplated upon all my life choices and questions which I hadn't been noticing till now. I knew the answers. As I opened my eyes in the dawn of realizations, I knew it was time to embrace the uncertainties and follow my road wherever it took me. I was going to find my abode and my purpose. It was more like a beginning, rather than an end.

                                           

 

With the blissfully calm Winter aurora, I made it a point to step out of the Monastery and visit my beloved hill station once before I decided to come back for another rendezvous some time. It was a day of peace and contentment. I had to leave at 5 in the evening. I was still wondering about the woman. I thought it would be polite to meet her again and return her flashlight. I returned to the Monastery and asked the Reception Guard, "Do you know where is the lady who lives here? I have something to return to her."

"Madam, We do not have any lady in charge of receiving people who come here."

"No, I was escorted by someone who said she lives here. I had got lost on the outskirts and she helped me find my way till here."

"You must be mistaken Madam. You arrived here last night."

"I didn't! I arrived here in the morning."

"No Madam. You can check your entry". He showed me my credentials with my signature stating the time to be 2-30 AM. I was baffled. I didn't know what to say. I picked up my bag and left from there wondering if everything I had experienced had been a dream.

I smiled at the possibility of such a dream and boarded my train. I decided to make it a point to visit the place nevertheless. As I took my book out of my bag, I found the small flashlight that she had given to me on my way. It still worked!

I turned it around and found the word inscribed, "RENDEZVOUS".

I closed my eyes, pictured her, my journey and my decision to visit the place again and realized--- It hadn't been a dream. It had been the Inception of a series of Rendezvous, may be in another world.

                                                   

Let The Soul Wander In Dust

In the late twenties age group of lives, the Y-Generation or the generation from the early 90's as we say, commonly experiences a phenomenon which could be termed as 'Emotional Hedonism' which some people vaguely term as 'Bipolar Disorder'(which is not exactly correct though). These are periodic mood swings ranging from extreme highs to extreme lows, or even the feeling of being social for a minute and then feeling alone in the crowd. One could feel lost and focused at the same time and still experience motivation as well as vagueness.

We could wonder why our parents never had such issues. Perhaps they belonged to a real world which was confined to a sphere they could reach. We, on the other hand, belong to a world which is governed by virtual spheres which have no boundaries. The endlessness of this world makes us feel that we have an unbounded circle of people for us, but in reality, it just secludes us from the fast paced lives and makes us feel alone. Moreover, due to this we tend to forget that there is no such thing as the ultimate happiness or ultimate sadness. Our minds are designed in such a way that when we experience incidents, we tend to feel extreme vibrations of happiness/sadness for a few minutes but after some time, our emotions adjust themselves to our normal levels of happiness, depending upon each individual.  We could wonder why however, we let them affect our normal routines, if the effects are momentary.

When I was a a kid, I used to believe that elders had the answers to all the questions anyone could ever think of. My obvious approach to a problem I couldn't solve was to consult my elders and find a solution based on their perspectives. However, sometimes I wondered if they were correct. Just like me, my elders too would have been dependent on their elders for their beliefs. So it was more of a game of perceptions. As I grew up, I realized that it wasn't just their answers but the approaches as well, that weren't absolute. There couldn't be anyone in this world who knew the answers or perceived everything objectively. We are humans, right? But then I wondered why nobody ever thought of these facts when confronted with questions. If nobody knew the answers, it simply meant that we had to find our own at any point in our lives. Yet sometimes we tend to forget that it is only we who could find the answers, as many as we can.                                                                                        
And this does not(in any way) mean that we need to follow a strict pattern to find our answers. Just as we have unique approaches, so do we have unique answers for every individual. Each one could be driven by one's own karma, one's own beliefs, one's own passions. For some, the answers could lie in a sense of purpose, for others they could exist in another world or universe. However, we have to embark a journey of our own, one that is not driven by anybody else. I believe that anyone who has never been alone for some time and done something to find one's own reflection, needs to do it once before they breathe their last. Because in our last moments, we do not remember people, we do not remember places, but we remember who we had been throughout our lives. It not only teaches us how to find our answers, to the questions that remain stuck through our minds, but also understand our lives, our experiences and ourselves. I have seen different people taking different routes to do so. But talking about the phenomenon I mentioned in the beginning, an impulsive generation like ours, has varied options, distractions as well as layers to travel inside ourselves. This doesn't make it simple though, for those who still want to figure out themselves.                                                 

There are no rules to be followed when we pursue a journey meant to find ourselves. Who knows the rules anyway. I have seen many people following a passion which fulfills them with a sense of achievement and purpose. But for those who have none, there is something that they are still missing out-- the real world. Yes, they need to step out. Change the pattern of life that is followed and move out of it. If not forever, make a change for some time and get to know yourself. How? By getting to know the world that exists outside, the world that you still haven't seen. Step out and travel-- if not to places far away, travel nearby, perhaps to a place in your locality. For once, do not be dependent on Google Maps or Apps that answer your questions. The world still has people who could help you out. Talk to them in the real world.

One could ask how that would help. Well, since I am still an explorer, I answer this as per my observations and experiences. When we step outside, alone, and face strangers, in new places and new situations, listen to them, experience the unexpected; we are not adding to their stories for their sake, we actually witness a part of ourselves that had never appeared before. Imagine how wonderful it is to find a new dimension of yourself and say ,"Hello buddy! Never seen you before" and you get an answer, "I had always been there. Was just waiting to be found." Well, yes that reminds me of the Soul Mate theory too, which I had discussed long back, but it feels more enlightened to find various dimensions within ourselves. The best part is when we remain open to any aspect that we encounter within ourselves, because Hey who knows the rules, and it is our journey.

One thing that I have seen people holding back is fear-- the fear of unknown, the fear of being damaged, the fear of being judged. What I have learnt in my journey is that none of these fears are as huge in reality as they seemed when they held me back. And all that I found out about myself was on the other side of those fears. What is the worse that could happen? I could get lost, broken. Well, till now I have seen myself rising after every defeat, and every time, better than earlier. If we remember that after the extreme incidents, we always regain our normal state of personalities, there is nothing that could happen to us as such. We need not carry the burden of our previous experiences to find out new facets of our lives.

As for the world, opinions always exist, but they say nothing about us, they are a reflection of what people have been through and of what they perceive of our personalities. Correcting them is not our task. They are on their own journeys and need to find out their own answers, because their questions differ. What we need to think about is our courage to accept what we find of ourselves. Because believe me, when the unknown arrives, we have an inner critic continuously reminding us of our boundaries, pulling us back into our spheres, and hindering our creativity to find ourselves. Let's call this critic as 'The Other' inside our minds.

'The Other' can be calmed down, rather made to sit back, by believing that it is only and only our core values that shape our personalities, and not our past behaviours, actions or mistakes and they should never pull us down. As a matter of fact, we need to make as many mistakes as we can and we should. Also, there is no time limit to restrict them. The more we do, the more we learn, especially about ourselves. The freedom from this static ideal of ourselves can do wonders. It can introduce us to our purpose, to things that make us feel alive, not in the momentary sense, but in a stable, gradual manner of growth. Because when we allow this to happen, we start respecting our journey, our mistakes and accept ourselves with our shortcomings. Nothing in the world can match this feeling of authenticity, integrity and individuality that we find to love ourselves.

This finding makes us believe in a magical aura, which strengthens our spirits on our journeys. When we forge our own path, we do not need anybody to fulfill our purpose, because neither do we get trapped into the opinions of others, nor do we please them, and we do not even compare their journeys to ours. We simply follow our intuition and let it guide us into the unknown. We learn to forgive ourselves. The best outcome of this focus is that we not only find our new versions, but we also get compassionate towards others for their mistakes.

That reminds me of a story from the Ancient ages. A little girl in her glory experienced disasters that made her weak. She did not recognize her own abilities. One day a stranger appeared and made her believe that she was the warrior born to conquer the world. She followed him and found that she was courageous, brilliant and compassionate. He made her discover a sword that she used to fight her battles. She won all the battles and believed that his presence made her do so. One day, she lost a battle which shattered her faith in herself. However, a day came when she also got to know that he was a spy from her enemies and intended to damage her using the same sword. She continued on her journey alone and did not reveal the secret to anyone. On her journey, she met people who told her stories that reminded her of her own valour. Gradually, she rose from her flickering ashes and entered the battle field, alone this time. It took time, but eventually she won over all her enemies.

When we read this story, we find a picture of ourselves, blending into our beliefs, our core values, our behaviours. And believe me, the way it works for me, I am sure it does for others too. Making mistakes is not at all wrong, not forgiving ourselves is. We could learn from the mistakes of others, but for the important ones, we need to make them ourselves and take our time to learn from them. How else could we ever plunge ourselves into the Dark Night and find our lights guiding us to who we are.

"If there are storms ahead, I will know how to sail through,

If there is darkness ahead, I will know how to burn and shine.

If there is dust ahead, I will know how to absorb and blow it,

For I will find my dimensions, Only when my soul wanders."

                           
Oh by the way at the end of that story, the girl finds the man among her enemies. When asked what to do with him, she said, "I do not want revenge for his mistakes. He will find about it on his journey. For mine, I am thankful that I got lost and found myself on my own." Guess what, she kept the sword, because her mistakes could not deprive her of the strength she had found, of the breeze she had found when she blew away the dust from her soul.  

श्री रामाधार मिश्र(नानाजी) कहते थे

आज मेरे नानाजी का देहान्त हो गया. उम्र तो इतनी अधिक ना थी पर शायद समय आ गया था. मैंने आज से पहले कभी अपने आपको इतना लाचार नहीं पाया कि चाहे कुछ भी कर लूँ पर अंतिम क्रिया के पहले नहीं पहुँच सकती. ऐसे समय में याद आता है कि घर से दूर और अकेले हैं, और कोई मदद भी नहीं कर सकते. एक इच्छा अंतिम दर्शन की. 

बस अब रह रहकर नानाजी के विचार मन में आ रहे हैं, और अपने होश संभालने से अब तक उनकी यादें सामने आ रही हैं. मेरे नानाजी पंडित श्री रामाधार मिश्र जी , बिजावर के एक विशिष्ट नागरिक थे, जिन्हें सिर्फ़ बिजावर में ही नहीं, छतरपुर जिले और बुंदेलखंड क्षेत्र में दूर दराज़ के हिस्सों में भी उनके नाम से पहचाना जाता था. और यह नाम उन्होंने अपनी कर्मठता, सेवा भाव, निष्ठा और ईमानदारी से कमाया था. लोग उन्हें सिर्फ़ एक विख्यात और ईमानदार वकील के रूप में नहीं जानते थे, बल्कि उनके सादा जीवन, दयाभाव और सही रास्ते पर चलने के साहस का आदर भी करते थे. उनके राजनैतिक या कार्यकाल संबंधी किस्से बताने के लिए मैं सही व्यक्ति नहीं हूँ. मैंने उन्हें सिर्फ़ उतना जाना है जितना देखा. अवश्य ही कई ऐसे ज्ञानी, सम्मानीय, और उनके करीबी लोग होंगे जो उनके सुनहरे कार्यकाल पर प्रकाश डालेंगे. मैं तो सिर्फ़ उनकी नातिन हूँ, और उन्हें नानाजी के रूप में ही जाना है. 

जब मैं छोटी थी, तब तो छुट्टियाँ सिर्फ़ नानाजी के घर पर बिताने के लिए होती थीं, माँ जाएँ या नहीं, मैं तो जाती थी. बिजावर का मतलब मेरे लिए बस मौसियों, मामा और भाई-बहनों से मिलना होता था. कभी कभी सुबह हम बच्चे नानाजी के बड़े से फ़ार्म हॉउस घूम आते थे. नानाजी और नानीजी ने वहाँ भी एक मंदिर बनवाया था, हनुमान जी का. मेरे बचपन की धुंधली यादों में उस मंदिर में बैठकर पूजा करना और वापस आते समय फूल लेकर आना अब भी है. नानाजी नियम और वचन के पक्के थे. कोई भी चीज़ उनके नियम नहीं बदल सकती थी. कितनी बार हम बच्चे उन नियमों को बदलने की कोशिश करते थे, पर नानाजी भी तो हमारे ही नानाजी थे. पूजा के बाद घर के सभी लोगों को चन्दन लगाना और आरती देना जब तक नहीं होता था, वे उठते नहीं थे. 

जब नानाजी कोर्ट जाते थे, तो हम बच्चे थोड़ी बहुत शैतानी भी करते थे और हमारी मौसियाँ भी खेलने के साथ हमें खाने के लिए कुछ न कुछ नया बनाकर देती रहती थीं. फ़िर शाम को नानाजी और नानीजी के साथ मंदिर जाना होता था. मंदिर जाने की याद मेरी सबसे सुखद याद है अब तक. हम नानाजी के कोर्ट के सामने से जाते थे. उतने लंबे रास्ते में हर २ कदम पर कोई न कोई उन्हें नमस्कार वकील साहब कहते हुए निकलता था. मेरे मानस पटल पर जानकी निवास मंदिर, मंशापूर्ण मंदिर , खेल का बड़ा मैदान, राम निवास मंदिर, और हनुमान जी की कुटी, और उसके पीछे का बरगद का पेड़ सब अभी तक अंकित हैं. मंदिर के पंडित भी नानाजी को जानते थे. रास्ते में नानाजी पाठ करते जाते थे और नानीजी हमारी धर्मग्रन्थों की जानकारी बढ़ाती जाती थीं, हमारे सवालों का जवाब देकर. नानाजी की बैठक में सैंकड़ों कानून की किताबें थीं. वे नए नियमों और पुराने केसेज़ को ध्यान से पढ़ते थे. बिजावर से जाने के बाद उन्होंने वे सभी किताबें एक लाईब्रेरी को निःशुल्क दान कर दी थीं. कहने लगे कि यहाँ रखने से अच्छा है कोई इनसे पढ़कर कुछ सीख ले. 

नानाजी घर आकर भी घर के हर सदस्य के बारे में पूछते थे, चाहे कोई भी हो. अपने व्यस्त दिन के बाद भी उन्हें अपने सभी बच्चों और उनके भी बच्चों का ध्यान रहता था. सबने भोजन किया या नहीं, किसी की तबियत ठीक नहीं हुई तो उसके पास बैठकर सहलाना नानाजी अक्सर किया करते थे. घर के छोटे बच्चों को तो वे अपने पास ही बैठाकर कहानियाँ सुनवाते थे या खुद सुनाया करते थे. एक धार्मिक पत्रिका है 'कल्याण', जिसका नाम शायद बुज़ुर्ग लोगों ने ही सुना होगा. नानाजी ने उसकी आजीवन सदस्यता लेकर रखी थी.  मेरा पढ़ने का शौक वहाँ  भी काम आया. और फ़िर नानीजी से उन बातों पर लंबे संवाद होते थे, लगता था कि नानाजी सुन नहीं रहे पर जैसे ही हम कुछ गलत बोलते थे वो तुरंत हमें सही करते थे. राजनैतिक मुद्दों पर नानाजी बहुत देर तक चिंतन किया करते थे. नानीजी से तो मैं अब भी बातें कर लेती हूँ, पर नानाजी से जब बातें करने लायक समझ आयी तब तक वे इन मुद्दों पर ज़्यादा नहीं बोलते थे. 

मुझे अच्छी तरह याद है कैसे नानाजी दिन में कोर्ट जाने से पहले भगवान् के पाठ और हवन पूरे करके जाते थे, चाहे भोजन करें या नहीं. उनके राम रक्षा स्तोत्र के श्लोक अब भी मेरे कानों में गूँजते हैं जो वे पूजा के कमरे में बैठकर बिना किसी रुकावट के करते थे. शायद नानाजी का धार्मिक होना घर के सभी लोगों में कुछ मूल्यों को पत्थर की तरह बिठा गया. मुझे याद है जब मैंने स्कूल जाना शुरू किया था. उन दिनों हम जबलपुर में नहीं रहते थे. मेरे पिताजी की पोस्टिंग सागर में थी. और वहाँ से बिजावर बस ६ घंटों की दूरी पर था. तब घर पर लैंडलाइन फ़ोन नहीं था. मैं हर हफ़्ते बिजावर चिट्ठी लिखा करती थी. और नानाजी उसे भोजन के समय ज़ोर से पढ़वाते थे. फ़िर किसी मौसी या नानीजी से जल्दी उसका उत्तर लिखवाते थे. एक हफ़्ते के अंदर मुझे जवाबी चिट्ठी मिल जाती थी. 

ये बात तब की है जब मैं चिट्ठियाँ लिखने के लिए बहुत छोटी थी, शायद ४ या ५ साल की. नानाजी को माँ ने बताया कि मेरा एडमिशन सागर के सबसे अच्छे स्कूल सेंट जोसफ'स कॉन्वेंट में हो गया है. जब अगली छुट्टियों में मैं बिजावर गयी तो नानाजी ने माँ से कहा कि अब ये हिंदी कैसे सीखेगी. मेरी माँ भी उन्हीं की बेटी हैं. उन छुट्टियों में नानीजी ने मुझे हिंदी की गिनती सिखानी शुरू की. जब मैं वापस आयी तो मेरी माँ ने उसे जारी रखा और साथ ही बहुत कुछ सिखाया. अगली छुट्टियों में जब मैं बिजावर गयी तो नानाजी ने सोचा कि पूछा जाए कितना भूल गयी. जब मैंने उन्हें पूरी हिंदी की गिनती सुनाई तो वे खुश हो गए पर उससे भी अधिक ख़ुशी उन्हें तब हुई जब मैंने नानीजी के साथ बैठकर सभी मौसियों के सामने राम रक्षा स्तोत्र संस्कृत में पढ़ा. उसके बाद स्कूल में हमेशा मैंने अपनी हिंदी और संस्कृत सभी से अच्छी पायी. ये हमारे घर के वातावरण का असर कहा जा सकता है कि आज इतने वर्षों बाद भी हिंदी और संस्कृत मुझे नानाजी और नानीजी की उस बात को याद दिलाते हैं और ख़ुशी महसूस करवाते हैं कि मैं कहीं भी पढ़ी, कहीं भी रही, अब भी बिलकुल वही हूँ. नानाजी को मेरे अंग्रेजी वाद-विवाद की रिकॉर्डिंग्स सुनना भी पसंद था. उस पर वे अपने विचार ज़रूर बताते थे. 

मैं जैसे बड़ी होती गयी, मैंने अपने परिवार को और करीब से देखा. मौसियों की शादियाँ, नानाजी और नानीजी का रहन - सहन मैंने बहुत गहराई से जाना. इसीलिए मैंने अपनी  मौसियों में सहेलियाँ पायीं. जब मैं अकेली थी, तब शायद इसीलिए मामा के साथ इतने साल बिताने का समय मिला कि आज भी  उनकी भांजी से ज़्यादा परिवार के बच्चों में उनकी सबसे अच्छी दोस्त हूँ.  कभी कभी मुझे गर्व होता है और ख़ुद को भाग्यशाली महसूस करती हूँ कि मैं और मेरे माता-पिता बिजावर में नानाजी, नानीजी, मौसियों, मामा और अपने भाई-बहनों से सबसे अधिक जुड़े रहे. आज भी लगता है कि वो अपनापन मुझे सबसे बांधे रखता है सुख-दुःख में चाहे हमें मिले हुए कितने भी दिन हो गए हों. 

मैंने नानाजी को बाहरी अनजान लोगों पर दया दिखाते हुए भी बहुत देखा. जब समझ आयी तो मैंने पाया कि हमारे घर में कई बार गरीब लोग दूर दूर से आते थे. दरवाज़ा खोलने पर एक ही रट , "मिश्राजी  वकील साहब से मिलना है."  इन में से कई ऐसे होते थे जिनके पास कोर्ट केस की फीस देने के  पैसे नहीं होते थे, या जो बिजावर के दूसरे लालची वकीलों द्वारा पीड़ित थे. वे नानाजी के पास आते थे. नानाजी  मुफ़्त  में उनकी मदद करते थे क़ाबिल तो वे थे ही(उनकी डिग्री और काम से). मेरी माँ ने वकालत करने से पहले कई बार नानाजी के कागज़ संभाले थे. वे बताती हैं कि नानाजी ने हमें कहकर रखा था कि ऐसे लोगों को भोजन-पानी देना और ज़रूरत के लिए पैसे देना. कई बार  बाहर से आये लोगों को रात का आश्रय भी मिलता था. भूखों के लिए भोजन और भंडारे भी नानाजी अखंड रामायण के साथ करवाते थे. नानाजी कहते थे जितना कर सकते हैं करना चाहिए. उनके  इस नियम का पालन घर में हमेशा किया गया. 

आज यूँ तो आँसू मैंने भी बहाये पर फ़िर सोचा कि एक अच्छे जीवन को जीने की सीख देने वाले ऐसे ज्ञानी और दानी व्यक्ति को उनके जीवन के लिए याद रखा जाना चाहिए, (और वह भी हिंदी में) जिससे हम भी उनके आदर्शों का पालन करें. तभी सोचती हूँ आज देवउठनी एकादशी का दिन ही चुना ईश्वर ने उन्हें अपने साथ मुक्तिधाम ले जाने के लिए. वैसे तो बिजावर मेरे लिए सागर और जबलपुर से भी ज़्यादा करीब है, नानाजी भले ही गुवाहाटी या वड़ोदरा में रहे हों,और लोग अब भी घर और हमें देखकर कहेंगे कि ये मिश्राजी वकील साहब के घर से हैं, और इस पहचान पर मुझे गर्व है, पर मेरे मानस पटल पर उनकी जो छवि सबसे पहले उभरती है, वह है पूजा के कमरे में या शाम को बैठक में राम रक्षा स्तोत्र के १०८ पाठ  करने की सीधी छवि  और उनकी गूँजती हुई आवाज़,

 "राम रामेति रामेति रमे रामे मनोरमे।

    सहस्त्रनाम तत्तुल्यम रामनाम वरानने ॥ "

                                  

                                        

                                       

क्षितिज के पार

आज ख़ुद को फिर से देखा,

दर्पण में नहीं, वरन एक सफ़र पर,

जैसे मैं कोई दर्शक हूँ भीड़ में,

और मंच पर कहानी चल रही हो मेरी.... 

देखा एक मासूम अक्स हवा के जहाज़ों पर,

जो लिए था तलवार पूर्वाग्रहों को ध्वस्त करने के लिए,

देखा एक वीर योद्धा को अठखेलियाँ करते हुए,

लक्ष्य तक पहुँचने के जूनून को जीते हुए,

उस वीरान सी सड़क पर ख़ुद को चलते देखा,

याद आये वो ज़माने जब सड़कें समय की मोहताज न थीं,

एक पल को लगा ये मैं नहीं हूँ,

मैं कहाँ सच से परे , बादलों के परे मैं नहीं हूँ..... 

वो रात के अँधेरे में अनगिनत सपनों को मनाना,

असंभव से इलाकों में अपनी सल्तनत बनाना ,

याद आये वो टूटे मोम के रंग और कच्ची पेन्सिलें ,

वो पुरानी किताबें जो दुनिया से दूर ले जाती थीं,

उन पीले पन्नों को ख़ुद को पढ़ते हुए देखा,

जैसे सदियों से मैंने कई धागे पिरोये थे,

मिलीं उन पन्नों में सूखी हुई कुछ पत्तियाँ ,

जिन में शायद अनदेखे शब्द उकेरे थे,

पर बंद हुईं वो किताबें तो सिमट गए वो किस्से,

भूले बिसरे हो गए वो झरोखे, वो पन्ने ,

जो ले जाते थे मुझे क्षितिज के उस पार.... 

जब छलक गया अस्तित्व अनजानी राहों पर,

और समझ न आया मंज़िल है कौन सी मेरी,

नदी के इस पर से सब ओझल होता लगा,

मैंने  मुड़कर देखा तो पाया मैं वहीं हूँ,

उन्हीं इलाकों में नदी के उस पर,

अपनी सल्तनत में अनगिनत परछाइयों  के बीच,

तो समझ आया कि वो दुनिया अब भी मेरी है,

अनछुई, अनदेखी, बाँहें फैलाये मेरे लिए,

देखती हुई मेरी राह, कि मैं जाकर अपना रास्ता चुनूँ.... 

मैं दर्पण भी हूँ और अक्स भी,

मैं दर्शक भी हूँ और नायक भी,

मैं ही वो मंच हूँ, मैं ही कहानी,

मैं जहाज़ भी हूँ और तलवार भी,

मैं योद्धा हूँ, और हूँ लक्ष्य,

मैं वही सड़क हूँ जिस में मैं मुसाफ़िर,

मैं ज़मीन भी हूँ और आसमान भी,

उन वीराने इलाकों की गूँज हूँ मैं,

मैं किताबों के पन्नों में हूँ और टूटी पेंसिलों में,

उन पत्तियों में हूँ और अदृश्य शब्दों में,

मैं झरोखों से निकलती धूप में भी हूँ,

और बादलों से गिरती बूंदों में भी हूँ,

मैं ही तो हूँ  जो इस पार से देखे उस पार,

सूर्य के उदय से अस्त तक मैं हूँ,

समय की सीमाओं के परे  मैं हूँ,

मेरी राह यहीं है, यहीं है वो दुनिया,

जहाँ से मेरा उद्गम होगा फिर से इसी क्षितिज से,

मैं भूत भी हूँ, वर्तमान भी, और भविष्य भी हूँ,

मैं इस कदम से उठकर नए  क्षितिज की ओर अग्रसर हूँ...

Autumn- Part I

As the leaves get dripped in rain,

And the stream flows without stopping,

Rolling pebbles and stones on the way,

The heart finds a place to stay,

To ponder upon the journey till now,

Somewhere beneath desires turn and toss,

In the noisy pattering of raindrops,

Which soothe the soul and thoughts,

When mornings seem fresh and alive,

I wonder if my heart will stay here,

When a fierce wind will make me fly,

Yet I know I wait for Autumn,

When the mornings seem silent,

And they are clear and numb,

Yet hiding their unearthed stories,

When regrets and dreams collide,

And hopes and fears stay by their side,

Trying to melt the frozen nights,

When dried leaves get blown away,

Despite not wanting to move,

Yet knowing the reasons henceforth,

When darkness is embraced by light,

To find an abode together somewhere,

Perhaps paying off an old debt in time,

When the chill makes you struggle,

To live with broken twigs and lost innocence,

To remember scars or strengths that healed you,

To love the falling snow outside or the warmth inside,

Because victories and defeats are one,

When stars seem to change the destiny,

And turn lost lands into paradises,

When complaining moans and cries,

Change to silent soothing whispers,

But some things are to be left as they are,

Some stories are to left unfinished and unrevealed,

For the pages have been turned by,

That is not the story of this Earth,

That is not some kind of an exile,

It is a frozen chunk inside every heart,

That rejoices on seeing rains or winds,

But finds comfort in the frozen numbness,

Because it feels one's own in reality,

Because it gives hope to find an abode,

Where autumn is beautiful too,

Where hopes and dreams collide,

And everything else is turned by the tide,

So I will stay here to rejoice the rains,

Until I know I have to get lost and find myself again,

And wait till Winter brings the beautiful chill,

But in the end I still wait for Autumn, which is mine,

Don't look for me over here again after a battle,

For I will be gone to where my journey takes me..

                                               

The Secret Dwelling

I don't remember when it happened,

That I was born inside a dark cover,

But I remember when I had come to life,

It was a moment when I popped my head,

Out into a stream of sunlight joyfully,

I curled and tossed my leaves in the wind,

And unfurled my twigs when it rained,

I toiled hard when the sun hit hard,

And wished to see more when it got dark,

Years passed by and I kept growing,

From a sapling to a plant and to a tree,

I used to wonder of things I had never seen,

Of places where I had never been.

People came and went by every day,

But I stood there for what seemed like a forever.

I don't remember when I saw her first,

I never knew where she came from,

I only remember her distinct gaze,

And the silence in which she wondered,

Of distant worlds and places like I did,

A little girl with her imaginations,

Scribbling her words in a notebook,

She seemed out of place among kids like her,

And often sat beneath my shade to ponder,

Upon all those things which didn't bother others,

That's why she seemed to me like my own one.

                                             

She recited stories to herself that only I heard,

Years passed by as she grew up,

Unperturbed by people around her,

Who tried to demolish her spirit,

She never knew we shared a common world,

She fought in her conquests and loved and lost,

Yet never in her journey did she lower her sword ,

Each day I saw her rising up for another battle,

Nothing could ever break her spirit to fall apart,

She seemed like a warrior on her journey,

Walking along with people who needed her,

And walking alone when none did,

Her valour made her survive each day,

And she walked through storms and fires,

Perhaps she belonged to a distant land,

Yet visited me every single day,

Some times she loved the winds,

Some times she just got dripped in rains,

Yet at other times she just loved the chill,

Somehow I witnessed her dreams, her fears,

And knew her stories, more than she did,

I knew perhaps what she wrote in there,

She used to whisper into my brown trunk,

"These are secrets only you know",

And I wavered my branches like wings,

She loved to be here until one day,

After which she never came back to me,

I waited and yearned for a company,

For she was the one who was like me,

But she did not return,

Perhaps she had found a place better than this.

********************************

I grew old and wondered if people needed me,

They went along but none stopped by,

None appeared who seemed like her,

Until one day I saw a woman, her hair grown grey,

She was a stranger who had a familiar gaze,

She seemed unknown but like my own one,

She sat under my shade and wondered silently,

Of places she had been to and people she had seen,

She scribbled in her notebook of all those days,

When I didn't know in which world she had landed,

She talked to herself of those battles and journeys,

And I was the one who heard it all,

I knew she was the little girl who grew up here,

Her spirit, still unperturbed over the years,

She was the same warrior who never lowered her sword,

And I wavered my withered branches like wings,

She smiled at me and whispered into my trunk,

"These are still secrets only you know,

But I have to travel to another world,

For I am a human and my journey ends here,

But you know I had always thought of you,

And you will carry my secrets unlike anybody else,

Perhaps we will meet again in another world",

I knew she had to leave this world,

I unfurled my leaves and lowered my branches,

For a friend who was like my own,

She dug up a the ground and buried her notebook,

And then left, this time never to come back.

                                                   

I did not wait for her in reality,

For she had left her secrets with me,

She was remembered for her valour and integrity,

But deep down I wondered if she will meet me,

In a distant world, in an after life,

Years passed by and none like her ever came,

I withered more, expecting my end,

Until one morning when it was winter,

Came a little girl who sat silently,

Wondering of distant worlds,

Scribbling in her notebook,

And I wavered my branches like wings....

(The story continues)

Escape- At 103.3 MHz

Has life become stagnant? They say anything that's stagnant rots from inside and eventually kills you. I have often wondered about it. I still do. When you have given a lot of efforts to goals and dreams at early stages in life, and destiny has other plans for you, you could feel blank, unsure of how to deal with things that you have to drag along everyday. It wasn't something that had popped up in my mind that day. I have been wondering the same thing for three years now, everyday when I enter the place, for another day to drag with. My phone vibrated again. I answered the call.

"Yeah. Just left from the office."

"Is everything alright? I had called you twice before this."

"Yes. All good."

"How was your day? No issues I hope."

Normally, I would have spent half an hour discussing about my workplace, but that day I was tired to do so. My mind was wandering into the deep questions about the time and place I was living in.

"I don't want to talk about it right now. I will seem wrong any way. How was your day?"

"Mine was good, but you could at least tell me. You don't talk to anybody as such these days."

"Please mumma. I'll tell you when I have reached home. Bye."

I disconnected the call. Not that I didn't want to blurt it all out, but I feared that my rage, my excitement level or my stubbornness for my dreams might scare her again, and more than me, she might spend a sleepless night. Probably, she would, even now, but stress or hyper excited mode wasn't to be distributed to others, not to her at least. Moreover, this was usual. I always had such thoughts at the back of my mind.The same things could be communicated when I had calmed myself down.

It was already 9-30 P.M. and I was getting late. I decided to board the first bus I saw and change to a connecting one to my place at an intermediate stop. In not more than five minutes, I saw a bus numbered '103' coming my way, which was strange because I had never noticed any such bus earlier on this route of Pune. But since I was late, I didn't pay much attention to it and boarded it for a stop I knew on the way. There wasn't much crowd that night. It wouldn't have mattered any way.

I took a window seat, plugged in my ear phones and turned to my playlist. None of the songs from my collection seemed to set my rhythm for the journey back home. I switched on the radio, in a blatant hope to find a radio station playing some soothing tracks, unlike the trending ones. To my disappointment, none of them seemed to relay signals that night. I kept switching between many and finally stopped at one which played some English songs. As I settled down to follow my chain of thoughts, it started playing 'Paradise'.

And with that, I brought my background trails into the mainstream, which had been bubbling to be noticed throughout the day. I contemplated upon the possibilities of following what my heart had been telling me to do. As I felt my own helplessness to be able to do so, I felt a wave of rage inside me. I wondered if I had turned into a coward. I wondered if the warrior in me had eventually vanished. I wondered if I had become one of those who simply wanted to escape from realities at any cost but were aware that it was not possible.

Looking out from the window, everything seemed just the same, as it was every other day. At a distance, there were hundreds of such places like the one where I worked, and thousands of such employees like I was one. Perhaps each one trying to find a meaning to the whole idea of existence, or may be it was just me. Apparently, others seemed to exist in the idea of a delusional world, that was a reality for them, because they had become a part of it. That was the reason, I seemed to be on the path of an ideology, that was always contrary to the rest of the crowd.

Nevertheless, all this seemed way too complex. I wondered how things had been simpler when I was a child. I could dream of being anyone, living anywhere, doing anything and it never seemed distant. It was always right there, as I had wanted it to be. That was a practical manifestation of the phrase which had become a part of my vision since the last three years to escape, 'Experience Certainty'. Isn't it quite a strange aspect of human minds that once we start traversing a trail of our own thoughts, we tend to visit every place, meet every person involved and live every moment again? As if the world we live in, doesn't exist and things are just as they had been.

The radio station now played a fantasy tale of a little girl caught among devils. I found it interesting and switched on 'Live Recording'. She had been brought into their world when she had barely started knowing her own world. So, she didn't know why she existed. I wondered how many people thought about the reasons behind their existence in this world rather than just about their survival. Or how many ever remembered that they had wanted to be someone else when they were in Kindergarten. That's the point. We could laugh at all of it or we could take it further, but it surely remains inside us.

And then as we grow up, peace resides in all the silent moments when we think of coming back to a place called home, because it reminds us of our firsts, perhaps our first steps, the first time we learnt to write, to read or the first friends we made, the first places we visited outside home. They seem to own us, irrespective of the number of years that have passed. It seems more like a call, a frequent knock on the doors of our hearts, to be the same, whether it is possible or not. May be, because we still think that those little dreams of innocence had a far better prospect for us as people, rather than as robots.

I could not help but think of all the people who had once been in my life, friends, teachers, acquaintances, loved ones, neighbours. Was it possible that they had went through or were going through series of unanswered questions and sought answers at the back of their minds every day? Could they too possibly wonder that on a cool summer morning during their vacations, when they woke up next to their belongings, as little kids, picturing their lives, or their dreams, unaware of the worldly propaganda, they had been right or wrong? Or could they wonder if the pretty pictures of their fantasy tales on summer evenings could turn true?

The tale on the radio continued to state that the little child just noticed that the only way to breathe without any trauma was either to escape from there by taking a leap through a ridge, that would be courageous on her part, but wouldn't be final as they would have to be faced later, or to stay there and keep fighting against them till she won. The tale did not reveal the choice she made. It was left for the listeners to decide on their own. Either way, she was declared a warrior.

I smiled at the coincidence and at the rawness of the conclusion. Either way, you are a warrior, it said. When there was light, we would know we had the courage, but the real test of faith, patience, perseverance and courage came along when darkness seemed to prevail for so long that we started doubting our existence. Pretty much true it was. I realized at that moment that perhaps, each one of us believed in the existence of a fantasy dream that we had once seen in innocence, whether as a child or after we grew up, and no matter what happened, a part of us would never stop believing in that. We could always go back, visit those summers, wish that child a great time, and come back to know that a part of that child we used to be, still remained and always would, inside us. It had always calmed us down. We had always known that part of ourselves, there wasn't any reason we would ever let it go.

I concluded that as long as I believed in my existence for the cause I had dreamt of at any point of time, it wasn't always necessary to take a leap that wouldn't turn into a last one. Some times, courage meant to face the turmoil, deal with the devils, go through it, and still not give up. A true warrior could leave the battle field at any point, to come back, or would stay, no matter how clueless, but would face it, to keep fighting till the end, which could lead there. I had always been a warrior. I still was. I would always be.

The intermediate stop had arrived. I got down and saw bus number '103' leaving. I clicked to switch off the Recording mode and noticed the Station which I had been listening to. It was then that I realized that the radio station was a channel at the frequency 103.3 MHz. That was impossible! English channels at 103.3 MHz were relayed in few Western countries(especially the States) but not in India at all. Moreover, it was not the kind of station to discuss topics of such insights. In the state of disbelief and confusion, I started walking towards the bus stop, only to realize that it wasn't an intermediate stop, but my actual stop!

This couldn't be a fantasy tale. I walked further to find that I had arrived at my actual destination via a bus which I had never seen before in the city. Bewildered, I checked my phone again, the recording of the story was still there. I smiled at the experience I just had and entered my place. If nothing, yes it had reminded me of something again, of who I was and what I could do.

"Reached home, mumma. I am good. Nothing much happened", I called her.

"You sound better now!"

********************************************************************************

Though I still wonder about the number '103', for it has been so many days but neither did I see that bus again on my way or find the one that drops me to my destination, nor have I found that radio station again. Probably, it was another world where I had been for some time, or the Law of Attraction just decided to synchronize a frequency at similar wavelengths. Or perhaps, fantasy tales do come true, may be just to escape into an insight!