एक बार फिर

 माँ  तेरी  गोद में  लेट  जाऊं

भूल  गया  हूँ  उस  सुख  को 

शायद नींद  की तलाश में 

तेरी  गोद  में  सो  जाऊं  चैन से 

नींद पूरी हो जाये मेरी 

 

एक  बार  मौका  मिले  तो  

रातों  को  तुझसे बहुत  सारी  बातें  करूँगा

तेरे  संग  और  वक्त  ज़्यादा  बिताऊं 

तेरी  देख - भाल  और  सेवा  

जिसमें शायद  कुछ  कमी  रह  गयी  थी  

उसको  पूरी  करूँगा, माँ .

 

बाबा  तुझसे  मिलूं  तो  माफ़ी मांग लूँगा 

उन तानो के लिए जो तुमने मेरे लिए सुने  

आज  मैं  सुधर  गया , कुछ  बन  गया  हूँ बाबा 

बस  तेरा  मुझपे  विश्वास  था 

जब सब हाथ धो बैठे थे 

एक तुम ही थे जो अड़े रहे अटल बने 

कोई  माने या  ना माने

तू नहीं तो मैं आज कुछ भी नहीं

 

एक  बार  फिर मौका  मिले 

तो  UPSC की  तैयारी भी  और  करूँगा

अखबार  में  इस  बार  तुम  मेरा  नाम  देखोगे 

मुस्कुराओगे  और  कहोगे  सबसे , 

मैं  ना  कहता  था  एक  दिन  मेरा  बेटा  कुछ  बनेगा 

बस  इतना  तेरे   मुँह  से  सुनना   चाहता   हूँ  एक  बार

 

बहनों  से  कहूंगा  कि 

चलो  एक  बार  हम  कहीं  साथ  घूमने  जाएँ 

रक्षा  बंधन  और  भाई  दूज  के  त्यौहार  से  आगे

एक  अपनी  खुशियों  की  दुनियां  बसाएं 

 

एक  बार  मौका  मिले 

तो  कोशिश  करूँगा  की  

वक्त घर  में  तुम संग बिताऊँ

घर  घर , स्टापू  और  चोर  पुलिस

तुम्हारे  संग  ही  खेलूं 

 

पत्नी  जी  से  कहूंगा  कि  चलो 

फिर  एक  बार  शादी  कर  लेते  हैं

और  इस  बार  छुट्टी भी लूँगा और honeymoon bhi जायेंगे  

तुमसे  पूछूंगा  ख्वाइशें  तुम्हारी 

एक  दूजे  को  कुछ  और  पल दे  देते  हैं 

ज़िन्दगी की भाग दौड़ में 

जो कल ना दे सके इक दूजे को हम 

 

बीवी  जी , एक  मौका  फिर  मिले 

तोह  शायद  शादी  इतनी   जल्दी  ना  करूंगा

तुमसंग  घूमूँगा  फिरूंगा  निडर होके

मेरे  दफ्तर  के  बॉस से भी नहीं 

कभी  आराम  से  अच्छी जगह बैठके  खाएंगे  हम 

इस  बार  हर  वक्त की तरह  जल्द -बाज़ी  ना  मचाऊंगा 

कुछ  तोहफे , कुछ  फूल  भी  दूंगा  तुम्हे  प्रिये 

 

स्कूल  के  टीचरों  से 

और  कॉलेज  के  प्रोफेसरों  से  बोलूंगा 

इस  बार  आपकी  क्लास  में  हर  रोज़  आऊंगा  

जो  बोलोगे  सुनूंगा , जो  कहोगे  करूँगा

मार  पीट  से  इस  निकम्मे  को  काबिल  बनाया  आपने

एक  बार  तो  शुक्रिया  अदा  ज़रूर  करूँगा 

 

एक  बार  फिर  मौका  मिले

तो   स्कूल  फुटबॉल  में गोलकीपिंग  छोड़ 

फॉरवर्ड  बन  के  टीम  में  खेलूंगा 

कॉलेज  के  मैचों  में  

कुछ  गोल और  दाग  दूंगा  

जो  खिताब  ना  जीत  सका  तब , अबकी  बार  जीत  जाऊंगा 

 

देखते  देखते  बहुत  दोस्त  बिखर  गए  हैं

कुछ  शहरों  के  फासले  थे

कुछ  आपस  की थी अनबन 

ढूंढ  के  उन  दोस्तों  को  फिर  एक  बार

दोस्त  बनाऊंगा , दोस्ती निभऊंगा

कभी  ने  बिछड़ने   की  कसम  खाऊंगा 

दोस्तों  को  और  वक्त  दूंगा , 

दो कश, दो जाम भी थाम लूँगा उन संग 

एक  बार फिर  मौका  तो   मिले , सब कर डालूंगा 

 

घड़ी  उलटी  फिर  ना  घूमेगी शायद 

जो  बीत  गया  पल , 

अच्छा  था , बुरा  था 

जैसा था वैसा ही रहेगा 

बहुत   कुछ  कर  सकता  था

गलतियों  को  सुधार  सकता  था

रूठों  को  मना सकता  था 

बिछड़ों  को  मिला  सकता  था

नाराज़गी  को  दूर  कर  सकता  था 

जीत  और  ख़ुशी  पा सकता  था 

जीवन  को  अपने  और  अपनों  के  लिए

और  सुधार  सकता  था 

पर  यह  अब  ना  हो  पायेगा 

चलो  जैसा था , उसको  छोड़ो 

बचे  हुए  दिन , बचे  हुए  साथी

सबको  साथ  ले  चलूँ  आज से 

खुश  रहूँगा  , खुशियां  बाटूंगा 

अपनों  के  लिए  और  अपने  आस  पास  के  लोगों  के  लिए

क्योंकि  फिर  एक  बार  यह  दिन  ना आएंगे 

फिर  एक  बार  यह  मौका  ना  आएगा

चलो  जी  लें  ज़रा , हंस  लें  ज़रा 

अपने  लिए , अपनों  के  लिए , औरों  के  लिए

फिर  एक  बार  ये   दिन ना लौटेंगे अभी 

बस आज ही आज है, कल हो ना हो.

SS

B&C of Old

We live in the times of JFM…not JFK. JFM is not the name of another US President but January, February and March. You board any flight and you are bound to find twenty to thirty insurance executives travelling zig-zag across the length and the breadth of the country. They all look alike with the laptop bag hanging from one shoulder and the phone held against one ear as the fellow keeps talking, trying to convince others why they should buy his product, why his pricing is better and what more the customer can gain by signing up. I have been doing this year after year and this is truly a ritual we perform. People at home think we are doing some great work, the staff at work think the bosses are terribly busy and yet we ourselves don’t know what good this is serving other than consoling oneself, if the results are not to the expectations, that I tried my best…I really did. And when it works, it feels good to have a bumper start to the next financial year.

Mind it, this ritual is not much fun. The alarm goes off at 4am and by 4.30am you are desperately trying to get an Uber to the airport where you find yourself facing a serpentine queue just to enter and the CISF person is taking time to look carefully at the old Aadhar card with the picture half obliterated and trying to match it with your sad and sleepy face. Reluctantly, he lets you go. Saved… no...wait . There’s a bigger queue ahead….the security check where the line, looking like the tail of the serpent, just becomes so much longer. And just when you think you have put the electronics and your over-nighter in two separate trays on the security belt and you attempt walking through the arch for the final body scan, the light blinks and the CISF man asks you to take off your shoes and put them in another tray as if you are entering the so called temple of modern India.  If you are lucky and have time at hand, it is time you want to use one of your multiple cards that entitle you to enter a lounge but bad luck seems to follow you as the card reader may not be working there. On days that it works, you promise yourself that you will only have fruits and tea but end up eating everything from humus to idli, from parantha to poha and masala chai. For the regular traveller, this is a danger zone and the first morning step to adding tyres to your belly and if you repeat the routine on your way back at the destination airport, you just might have eight pack belly which even the Pathaan on the screen does not have.

I am a pirate at heart, not because I do marine insurance, but I find some good in going from place to place and finding myself some interesting places to see and eat. While I may at times get to live in hotels that claim to be heritage and grand, to me these small old places tucked away in the old towns are the real heritages that we should preserve and visit. I start my search well in advance on Google….Best old places to eat…. and options pour out. Behind my boarding pass, I carefully start writing down a few names and as I meet my local colleagues, I throw some of these names at them just to get their reaction. In most cases, they seem to add to the wow quotient to what I had already read on the internet but are not so enthusiastic about the rest which I knock off from my ‘To Go to List’. Somehow, I even manipulate and convince the local colleagues to plan the business visit in a manner that they take me close to one of the fascinating joints where I go for my afternoon lunch…. Official Team Lunch of course. When it comes to dinner, I ward off people saying I have a lot to do and then select another good old place for making most of the night. Here I give you some such wonderful eating places in Chennai and Bangalore, two cities I recently travelled on ‘business.’

No visit to Chennai is complete without a visit to Murugan Idli. Opened in 1993, Murugan Idli Shop now has multiple outlets in the city but I love going to the original one on Usman Road, T Nagar. The website says that it “is a casual dining restaurant, offering South Indian cuisines and warm hospitality in a rustichistorically preserved places.” No dictionary will even find you such a word but surely this punched word brings out the essence of the place…rustic and historical. Rustic because you get no cutlery here. Just use your hands and slurp it in from the banana leaf placed before you! Historical for reasons I guess is that idli is the most famous breakfast food across the globe and it all started here in Chennai. Anyway, the moment you sit and order food which all seem to know what to ask for… four kinds of chutneys of coconut, coriander, tomato and mint are placed on the banana leaf. The chutneys are all made fresh, almost every hour, and the flavours are so distinct that you may end up eating them even before the meal has arrived. The idli is their signature dish and it is as soft as the baby’s bottom… soft, smooth and fluffy. The podi idli soaked with ghee is my personal favourite and the onion uthapa comes a close second. Getting a place here can be a challenge and so a little waiting time should be kept in reserve when planning a visit. I wanted to pick up a packed bottle of the spicy gunpowder (podi) but was told by the man selling that it will not be allowed in my hand luggage. I even checked with my friend in the city who happens to be the CISF Big Boss there and he promptly sent me the airlines list of things prohibited and it included this gunpowder. I did not have to ask the reason. Any idiot who wanted to create havoc in mid- air could open the seal and fling the gun powder in the eyes of passengers and crew and then take over Airforce One. The best part about Murugan is that it does not pinch your pocket one bit. Don’t waste your corporate credit card here…just pay cash and walk out or you may have to explain to your finance and personnel departments about the cheap, shady places you have been eating in.

If the day belonged to Top Gun Murugan, the night was pure masahari delight at Buhari on Mount Road. This place is a landmark in the culinary landscape of the city of Chennai for this is the place where the famous Chicken 65 originated. It was established in 1951 by A.M. Buhari who was the former Sheriff of Madras. I looked at the menu card and was inclined to reach for the famous Buhari Dum Biriyani but the waiter suggested trying something else. My next request was for the Ceylon Egg Parotta which is parantha with egg, onion and mutton pressed inside as filling. The fellow asked me to go by his choice and I agreed….iddiappam with paya and I had one of the best dinners for a long time. Even though there were five iddiappams, which are rice flour pressed into noodles and packed together, and the bowl of paya was huge, I licked the last bit of gravy and cleaned up the plate that possibly did not need a wash before being served to another customer. Next my friendly advisor asked me to top this meal with a cuppa Irani Chai…so milky, so sweet and with a distinct masala taste that made you wide awake and happy. All of this at less than five hundred bucks was a steal. Before leaving Buhari’s I insisted on seeing the Chicken 65 and Samsa (small samosa with chicken/mutton) just to see what these delicacies looked like. Chicken 65 is a deep-fried chicken dish with telltale red colouring. I was told that famous personalities like Raj Kapoor, Sivaji Ganesan and Sridevi would visit the place often.

Chicken 65

Off to Bengaluru the following week and the two afternoon lunches were at Sri Raghavendra Stores and Konark. At the Sri Raghavendra Bhavan at Chickpet, we had Rawa Idli, Dahi Vada with a sprinkling of boondi on top and Kesari Bhaat…. I just love this sweet dish which I never miss when in this city since I first visited with my family in 1996. One of my colleagues had puri-sabzi where the puri resembled bhaturas of North India. All this plus a round of wonderful filter coffee for less than four hundred rupees. This makes the food taste even better for a plate of idli ,at the hotel where I was putting up, would have cost me much more. Next afternoon, I had the best Ghee Masala Dosa ever at Konark Veg Restaurant at the stadium. I have had masala dosas at many places all over the country but this was truly special.

My other visit to an old and iconic place in Bangalore was at Koshy’s Parade Café at St. Mark’s Road. Koshy’s started in 1940 when P.Oomen Koshy opened a bakery in the Cantonment area and baked the traditional English bread for the garrisons. Later, he moved to a plot behind the cathedral and in 1952 opened Parade Café. Koshy’s became the first airconditioned restaurant in South India with a live band and dance floor. The menu is exhaustive with 968 items covering Kerala dishes to Anglo- Indian and continental fare. I enjoyed my dinner at the Jewel Box Café which I understand is pricier and is airconditioned. We had a round of sweet corn soup with pepper chicken as starters and the main course of butter chicken and tandoori roti was marvellous. The butter chicken was not the usual tomato sauce sprinkled gravy but had a distinct flavour of its own. The people serving here seem to be as old as the Café itself but they treat you well and the ambience is lovely. This is the place that has hosted Queen Elizabeth II, Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru and Nikita Khushchev and many more. The place is usually frequented by the so called old timers most of whom have grown old with the restaurant. Some of these old timers are touchy about the place where they sit almost every time they come in. Read it somewhere that a politician once told the present generation owner that, “I have met your grandfather and father and seen you as a kid. I have travelled across the globe looking for peace and quiet and this is the only place I find it.”

The Jewel Box Cafe

How can I be a pirate and not talk of ale? So this one is not from the Old B&C, I mean Bangalore and Chennai, but closer home at a suburb of Mumbai where one of my office colleagues lives with his extended close knit family. Someone on his wife’s side recently passed away… off ho gayi in Mumbaikar’s lingo- and my colleague took a few days off. Mind it, both off in the last sentences mean different things! When he returned to work he told me of a local custom which, if Kalpana Lajmi were alive, she would have turned into her second movie on the aftermath of death, the first being Rudali, where we first got to see professional mourners of Rajasthan. Here, in this hamlet near Mumbai, it seems, the close family members plan a couple of sessions of hard drinking for the immediate family folks who have lost a soul in order to lessen their grief. Sessions are held age wise and some close relatives take charge of arranging each of the grief parties to help uplift the ‘spirits’ of the sad ones. Another colleague of ours who too loves his evening drink with friends listening to this tale remarked, “Hey, I too am very sad at your loss. Please invite me to one such session”.

Remarkable India…. Truly Incredible.

SS

Water Baby

Konnagar…that’s where my home is. Literally translated, it means which town. Funny name indeed for a place and often my friends in school and college would pull my leg by asking, “Where are you from.” I would say, “Konnagar.” Promptly they would ask again,”Kon Nagar se?”.

I did my schooling from a Christian Missionary school at Kolkata and then completed my engineering degree from a private college at Sreerampur. I have been applying for jobs but in West Bengal there is nothing much happening and opportunities for the youth are almost negligible. The big factories near my home town like Hind Motors, where the famous Ambassador cars would be manufactured, and Rishra, which was booming during the hey days of jute industry, have all become dormant.  The only option for most of us here is to move out from the state. Most of my college friends have moved to places like Ahmedabad, Bangalore, Mumbai and Delhi and the rich handful have flown overseas. Thanks to WA, we keep in touch… I mean they keep in touch. I remain a silent member for I have nothing happening in my life worth sharing.

Most of the youth in my town and in this state enjoy adda or what you might say is a place where they come together to talk on every subject under the sun. They will have multiple rounds of tea without milk and sugar and smoke endlessly. If you were to listen to them, you might get confused that you’re face to face with thinkers who would be no less than Voltaire or Jean Paul Satre with ideas to change the world. Most of them also play the carrom board well. I somehow have never taken to going to these addas in the neighbouring clubs house often called byayam samitis which, in earlier days, used to be the gym for the common folks.

I prefer staying at home, listening to music and reading books which range from fiction to history, from travel to sci-fi. But the thing I enjoy most is swimming in our pond behind our house. We used to have a huge holding of land but we have now been selling small plots almost every year to keep the fire in the kitchen burning. We have, however, held on to the pond which we call pukur and keep it as clean as is possible. I go for my swim three times a day and stay in the water for long. Over time, I have now perfected the art of underwater swimming where I can hold my breath while going from one point of the pond to another. Doing this often gives me great joy.

The joy is not just of being able to accomplish the task of holding breath for long but enjoy the view beneath the surface. I often go deep below to enjoy the marine life that exists there. There are these snakes which wriggle past you. Since childhood I was told by my father that the snakes in the pond are not poisonous, so I have never felt any fear of these creatures. My cousins from Kolkata get completely paranoid when they see the water snakes whenever they come to visit us and dare to go swimming in the pond. Most of these snakes have stripes on their bodies and when they swim in a wriggly fashion with the sunlight piercing the water, there is a feel of an optical illusion of a kind difficult to pen down. Then, there are these weeds that grow beneath with flowing leaves, as if waving to me to come close to them. There are also rocks of various shapes and sizes which have algae covering them. If you were to put your foot on any of them, you would surely slip and hurt yourself.

Of all the things beneath the water the most fascinating are the fish. But if you think that I am able to see all the colourful fishes that David Attenborough shows you on Nat Geo and Animal Kingdom, then I am sorry to disappoint you. All I see are simple grey and silver fishes like rohu, katla, pabda, tangra…. almost all of which find a place on a Bengali platter. It goes without saying , we also do not have the huge whales or the deadly sharks in our ponds. These are the regular fish, not exotic, and I am comfortable in my water kingdom. These different fishes and other creatures are my adda and I can be with them for hours together without getting bored or tired. I try to explore different parts of the pond and get to see newer creatures of different shapes and sizes but my usual underwater dive always starts from where my house is to the other end.

In this long dive, lately, I have been noticing a pair of silver fishes silently following me. When I dive in deeper, the two of them in perfect sync, dive in almost to the equal depth. If I were to move to the right or left, the two expertly move in the same direction. It is quite possible these two fishes are having some fun seeing a large creature in their midst moving up and down without causing any harm to anyone. Usually, the smaller fishes avoid the larger ones and hide in the weeds and rocks but maybe these two have been watching my movement over time and have realised, he’s one of us. On days when I take another route on my underwater dives, I am beginning to miss my tiny friends. Next when I show up, the two of them rush with great speed towards me. Reminds me of the dog we had at home. When we returned from school, he would rush towards me and put his paws up on my tiny shoulders, wagging his tail and saliva drooling incessantly. It would take him quite a while to calm down and it seemed he was questioning….where were you…why did you leave me and go….I missed you very much. Now, after many years, I am getting the same old feeling of the love of pets.

Sorry, these two tiny fishes, no more than the size of my palm, are not my pets. They are just companions in my water adda. I smile seeing them come everyday and can feel them talk to me… come let’s have fun bro! Funny creatures are these two for I do not feed them, I know not where they come from and where they live and yet a bond is getting formed in a world away from the sight of the big world. Watching their smooth movements has made me copy their style and now my swimming skills too have improved. I no longer splash water as I move ahead. My hands gently caress the water top and there is now hardly a ripple. Most improvement has come to the movement of my feet which earlier would hardly flap. Now, I have seen the champions swimming and my feet steer my body effortlessly. Some of my friends who join me in the water have noticed my new good style and are all praise for it.  They ask me who taught me this fluent style. I tell them my friends who swim with me every day. I must, however, state that my friends from the water world somehow do not come close to me when the others are with me. Don’t know whether it is their fear or jealousy which keeps them away.

I gave names to my tiny duo…Bapi and Binni…a boy’s name and a girl’s… though I did not know who was who. Just assumed the two were a couple. And then, after some time, I was proven right. Along with Bapi and Binni, I soon saw a whole lot of the tiniest fish you would ever see. They had kids….loads of them. The baby fishes, no more than a few inches, would now swim with their parents and I looked more like a aircraft carrier with a flotilla of ships and aircrafts all around me. I wish I had a camera with which I could capture these beautiful moments which, possibly, would have got millions of clicks on the social media. Maybe, my other friends in the real world adda would also see me and my world and stop calling me anti-social and snob. I sure was doing good, no matter whether people saw me or not.

I am now going into the water at least five times a day to the utter surprise and anger of my mother who thinks I have completely lost it. She keeps on telling me to read the newspaper and fill up forms for vacancies in government departments and banks. I do it just to make her happy but my happiness lies in the pond now. I can now see the little fishes grow inch by inch. But as they say, everything is momentary and all good times also come to and end. One day, as I was swimming, I saw a school of large fish coming from the opposite side. My tiny friends tried turning around as if they sensed danger. I kept on moving ahead as the water had turned crowded and there seemed to be some sort of scuffle with which I had nothing to do.

Next morning, I returned to the water and dived in. the water seemed all too quiet and calm. The Bapi and Binni family was nowhere to be seen. I finished one lap and came out of the water for air.Then I dived in again and went deeper. Yet again, I saw no trace of my friends. I waited longer near the large weeds from where, I knew, they often came out of every day. There I saw Bapi stationary, afloat just above the floor of the pond. I went closer and I saw that Bapi had in his mouth a whisker and on the other end of it lay, on the floor, a head. Near the weeds, two lonely babies were swimming around oblivious of what had happened. I went away and let Bapi to his grief.

In a couple of hours, I dived into the water once again and went close to the place where I had seen the family in the morning. Bapi was still there, almost at the same place. The head beneath was now covered with mud, only a bit of it was visible. As I swam ahead, the two surviving kiddos started following me. I started keeping a close eye on any intruder. Even a faint hint of some disturbance in the water made me alert and turn around to envelop the tiny fishes.

This went on for a few days. Bapi refused to join the swim and I did not see him again. The kids were always waiting for me. Now I have stopped taking any other route for my swim. It is always the straight route where the kids know my time and speed and they were now accustomed to my being with them five times a day. I am always worried, when on land, about these tiny lives. How will they survive any attack by another fish in my absence? I became paranoid and took to the water more often but I knew very well that I just could not be there always. I had to do something.

Every fortnight the pond was given to a contractor who would lay the net at night and in the morning pull it up. The bigger fishes would be put in big tanks of water and the smaller ones set free. I knew that most of the killers had been punished but still a few remained. The danger to the babies was real.

Next morning, I went into the water and as the two tiny babies came close to me, I extended my arm. They came swimming and settled on my palm. I held them gently and put them in a polythene bag. I walked out of the pond and put the water in a big aquarium I had bought from the market. I also got some fish food for the duo. The aquarium sits nicely on my study desk and I have decorated it with some nice objects and lights. A few colourful fishes are there as well to give my babies company. I don’t go for my swims so often now, maybe twice a day at best. I don’t know how the little ones feel inside a small box but I have found my peace and am now able to help Ma with chores and also do my preparations for the multiple selection examinations.

SS

Pictures courtesy: Sagar Datta