अलख रिश्ता

बादलों के शीश पर

आरज़ूओं का गगन,

श्वास हैं पथिक

अनन्त पथ के

मुझको इस जहाँ में चैन

मिल भी पाएगा कहाँ?

है वही मेरा जहाँ

लाँघकर ये आसमाँI

हैं क्षितिज पर तारिकाएँ

मेरे इन्तज़ार में,

जा मिलूँ उन से मैं कैसे

स्यात् यह संभव नहीं

लेकिन उनसे ऊर्जा तो

आ रही है रात-दिन

मैं वहाँ पहुँचू न पहुँचू

ऊर्जा आती रहे

ज़िन्दगी चलती रहेI

और जब चुक जाए

साँसों का हिसाब

ऊर्जा बन जाऊँ में ख़ुद

ऊर्जा ही ऊर्जा

बस यही अरमान हैI

उस की चाहत मुझे रहेगी

जब तक रहेगा  जीवन मेरा,

मुझे इस जहाँ में चैंन कहाँ 

बस तुम ही हो मेरा जहाँ।     

आत्म समर्पण

भयानकता वनों की
सूनापन सेहरा का
बेचैनी समुन्दर की
उदासी मौसमों की
बेनियाज़ी पर्वतों की
क्या नाम दूँ तुझको?
कभी ऊपर उठाती है
कभी नीचे गिराती है
कभी हर रास्ता परिचित
कभी हर राह अनजानी
मेरी मंज़िल अगर तू है
तो ले ऐ ज़िन्दगी
मैं बैठता हूँ
हारकर, थककर।    

हर पल, हर लम्हा तुझे याद करता हूँ
हर जन्म में तुझे पाने की आस करता हूँ
जीवन भी तेरा है कायनात भी तेरी
फिर भी इस घर से उस घर जाने की
फ़रियाद करता हूँ।  

Our best friend – Brother McCann

Look, your teacher is coming! This one line tends to send shivers down the spine of students even today but for us, it used to be a welcome visit. Every student who has passed out from St. John’s High School during Brother McCann’s time can relate to him driving a bicycle down to his house and it used to be a pleasure to receive him. It used to be a moment of joy for every student of his.

Brother McCann, till his last breath, kept his ties intact with his students. He believed that a teacher is a person of many parts. I recollect him telling me during one of our conversations, “A teacher is a person who not only gives you knowledge but is your companion too. He is the one who would always stand by your side whenever you need him.” And all his students would agree that he lived up to this his entire life. A fracture in the leg riddled him from driving a bicycle but could not take away his spirit. He still continued his visits to his students. The only difference was this that the school ‘Maruti Van’ used to drop him to a student’s place and from there that student would drop him to another’s place and this would go on till the time he got tired and finally one of us would drop him back to the Brother’s residence on the school campus.

So, not only his students, all those who have lived In Chandigarh for long , and ever saw a six-feet, fair, Irish gentleman, striding his bicycle on the roads of the city beautiful, can certainly take that man to be Brother McCann. But remember, he was never there to pass time, he used to be around on a very special mission, a mission of visiting his old students and enquiring about their well-being. I once asked him about his love for the bicycle and he smilingly said, “It is not a mere mode of transport but also an exercise that keeps me fit and fine.”

Brother McCann was not only a wonderful teacher, he was also an elderly friend to many a youngster in town. He is a person who will always remain an integral part of the life of his students. His wonderful thoughts, wide perspective and moral values will always help his students to surge ahead in life. He dedicated 57 odd years of his life imparting education and inspiring hundreds of students across various schools in India being run by the Irish Missionaries. I wonder if today’s generation would ever have mentors like him.

I am proud that I have been one of his students. You do not come across such wonderful teachers very often in life. If you have a teacher like him, then you do not have to worry about anything because he is always there to guide and help you out and to take away your blues. He was one of those few teachers who dedicated his entire life preparing his students for facing the one final examination called ‘Life.’ 

जय माता दी

बर्फ़ की चादर ओढ़े,
पर्वतों की छाँव में,
रहती है माँ वहाँ,
दूर इक ठंडे गाँव में।
शीत लहर चलती है जहाँ,
घटा भी झूमती है जहाँ,
ऊर्जा ही ऊर्जा है जहाँ,
रहती है माँ वहीँ,
दूर इक ठंडे गाँव में।
बच्चे, बड़े, बूढ़े सभी,
चलते हैं मीलो-मील,
'जय माता दी' दोहराते हुए,
रहती है माँ वहाँ,
दूर इक ठंडे गाँव में।
मन को शान्ति मिलती है जहाँ,
तन नहीं थकता है जहाँ,
प्रेम-ही-प्रेम बरसता है जहाँ,
रहती है माँ वहीँ,
दूर इक ठंडे गाँव में।
हवा भी मधुर लगती है जहाँ,
जल अमृत लगता है जहाँ,
दर्शन पा धन्य हो जाते वहाँ,
रहती है माँ वहाँ,
दूर इक ठंडे गाँव में।     

अपनी तलाश

भटक रहा हूँ मैं तबसे
जबसे होश संभाला है,
आत्मा तो बसती है मेरे भीतर
पर ख़ुद से मैं अनजान हूँ।
मैं क्या हूँ?
मैं कौन हूँ?
इसकी मुझे खबर नहीं।
चारों दिशाएँ चीख-चीख कर कहती हैं,
खोज अपने आप को खोज।
मगर मैं, लाचार, बेबस,
आँखें फ़ाड़-फ़ाड़ तकता हूँ,
इस आइनों के जंगल को।
मैं विधाता नहीं
की तीसरे नेत्र से देखूँ,
या धरती की तह तक पहुँचू,
मगर मैं, यह जान गया हूँ
की ख़ुद को पाने के लिए    
मुझे संघर्ष करना पड़ेगा।
अपने आप को जानना है तो
संघर्षहीन से मुझे,
संघर्षशील बनना पड़ेगा।

तुम से दो बातें

मैं अपने जज़्बों का इज़हार नहीं करता,
इसका मतलब ये नहीं कि मैं तुझ से
प्यार नहीं करता।
चाहता हूँ मैं तुझे आज भी पर,
तुम्हें सोचकर ख़ुद को बेज़ार नहीं करता।
तमाशा न बन जाये कहीं मुहोब्बत मेरी,
इसलिए अपने दर्द भी आशकार नहीं करता।
जो कुछ मिला है उसी में खुश हूँ मैं,
तेरे लिए अपने ख़ुदा से तकरार नहीं करता।
पर कुछ तो बात है तुझ में ऐसी वर्ना,
तुझे चाहने की ख़ता बार-बार नहीं करता।

PEN WIELDERS IN THE CITY OF STONES

It is often said, ‘The pen is the tongue of the mind’. But has anyone ever analyzed that the one who wields the pen is the one who is bound to sit in a corner of his study and give voice to undesirable human thoughts, desires, wants and emotions! Authors, no doubt, are a weird lot who are most often, forgotten by the society.

Chandigarh, the City Beautiful, deserves a fair mention in the history of Modern Township planning in India. A number of writers, poets and scholars have lived in this which include the famous Urdu poet Hari Chand Akhtar, Manohar Sahani, Dr.Mulk Raj Anand, Acharya Hazari Prasad Dwivedi, Dr.Mohan Singh’Diwana’, Chand Narain Chand, Shiv Kumar Batalvi and many more! Unfortunately these names are aliens to the present day generation of Chandigarhians

.

But the city still has authors like Dr.Indu Bali, Dr.Naresh, Shakuntla Brajmohan, Dr.Gurcharan Singh and the like but to the misfortune of this ‘City Beautiful’ or the ‘City of Stones’ as called by the authors, these persons who have made Chandigarh proud by winning dozens of national and international awards, find a rare mention among the city residents.

As Ovid said, ‘Scripta fervent annos (writing survives the years)’, he failed to mention that writers do not. It’s high time for the city residents to recollect the words of Lord Byron and Don Juan that,

‘But words are things and a small drop of ink’

falling like dew, upon a thought produces,

that which makes thousands, perhaps a million think.’

And to realize that they ought to have a sense of concern for the esteemed personalities who have added heart to this city of stones.