पर्सनैलिटी डेवेलपमेंट

"सुनिए जी ! हम अपनी बेटी का दाखिला लड़कियों वाले स्कूल में ही करायेंगे !",
बेटी के जन्म होने के कुछ दिन बाद ही रमा अपने पति से बोली , " मैंने शर्मा जी की लड़की को देखा है, कोएड में पढ़ने का क्या असर हुआ है ! दिन भर लड़कों से बातें , यहाँ तक कि घर आना जाना भी है| न बाबा न! लड़की को अच्छे संस्कार देने है हमें "|
तीन साल बाद रमा की बेटी स्कूल जाने लायक होती है, " सुनिए जी ! आज ऑफिस से लौटते हुए दाखिले के फॉर्म ले आइयेगा, इस साल दाखिला करवाना है इसका | और सुनिए कोएड के ही लाईयेगा , शर्मा जी की बेटी का डॉक्टरी में हो गया है, सुना है कोएड में पढ़के बड़ा पर्सनैलिटी डेवेलपमेंट होता है "!!

धनतेरस के दिन

I was inspired to write this poem by my friend Shruti . She saw the whole incidence on dhanteras and toled me about it. As the plot is not original, I have written this through her pen. This is my first narrative poetry with random rhyming scheme.



धनतेरस के दिन
जब बरस रही थी लक्ष्मी पूरे बाज़ार में,
जब ख़ुशी थी आई पैसे रूपी आकार में,
रोशनी में नहाने को हर कोना तैयार था,
मैं भी पहुंची ऐसे आडम्बर के संसार में||


हर कोई दिखावे में चूर था,
कोई बनारसी साड़ी, तो कोई लहंगा खरीदने को मजबूर था,
एक बच्चा भोला, मासूम, परेशान,
इन सब से कहीं बहुत दूर था||


रोता हुआ बच्चा अपनी माँ का ध्यान न खींच पाया,
पर तभी एक गुब्बारे वाला उसकी नज़र में आया,
गुब्बारे के रंग के आगे सभी रंग फीके थे,
गुब्बारे वाले को भी उम्मीद का भंवरा नज़र आया||


सुबह से चार गुब्बारे बिके थे,
फिर भी लगा हुआ था खोमचा लेकर,
सोच के ये कि वो भी दिवाली मनायेगा,
बच्चों के लिए पटाके और घर में मिठाई लाएगा||


किलकारी लिए वो बच्चा,
पहुंचा गुब्बारे वाले के पास,
उसने भी बजा के सीटी,
बच्चे का किया स्वागत||


सीटी की आवाज़ सुनके,
और भी बच्चे दौड़े आये,
अब धनतेरस के बाज़ार में,
दिखने वाले थे हर तरफ रंगीन गुब्बारे||


ख़ुशी के इस माहौल को,
एक दुकानदार सह न पाया,
दशहरा बीत चुका था तब भी,
वो दशानन का रूप धर आया||


लगा चिल्लाने गुब्बारे वाले पर,
"सामने से खोमचा हटा !"
गरीब की मजबूरी का,
शायद उसे नहीं था पता||


गुब्बारे वाला बोला,
"बाबूजी बस १० मिनट,
बच्चे घेरे है खड़े,
गुब्बारे बिक जायेंगे सारे! "


सुनते ही यह दुकानदार तिलमिलाया,
कुम्भकरण, इन्द्रजीत साथ ले आया,
पर बचाने उस गुब्बारे वाले को,
कोई राम न आया||


उस दिन टूटी उसकी अयोध्या,
फूटे सारे गुब्बारे ,
पास खड़े लोग भी,
तमाशबीन बने रहे सारे||


अट्ठाहस करता लंकेश , डरा सहमा गुब्बारे वाला !
समेटने लगा बचे हुए तिनके , ढूँढने लगा कहीं और सहारा,
देखा तो बचे हुए थे चंद गुब्बारे,
चला उन्हें लेके वहाँ से||


सन्नाटे को आघात पहुंचा,
जब आवाज़ आई उस बच्चे की,
"गुब्बारा ही तो दे रहा था
इस मारा क्यों?"

Autobiography of a clown

I really don’t know what I have made of myself. Why I always expect such a difficult things from myself why? why I don’t behave like a normal people. Why I don’t laugh when I want to laugh.. why I don’t cry when I want to cry

Is it that because since birth I have been controlling my emotions inside me… I don’t know when all these things started but I do remember once my friend was crying due to some reason, even though I was also not feeling good because my mother was not well but dumping that fact a side, I started doing foolish acts before him to make him laugh. I think that was the first time I realized that I can wear a everlasting mask of laughter.

But does that mean I have been faking all of my life? No, certainly not. I still remember when I was a kid, I used to cry when I was hungry, I used to feel scare when my mom wasn’t around, I used to feel happy when my father used to take me for a walk. I think those days were best days of my life.

I sometimes really hate myself for not burst out into tears sometimes. I remain quiet when my grandma died; I remain quiet when my elder sister died; I remain quiet when I came to know that I have developed a tumor in my bone marrow that is turning into cancer; I remain quiet when my father was not well and the incidents go on and on. The lonesome reason for my weird behavior was only that I preferred consoling other people more rather than being myself in grief. But I was broken when I heard some whispers from the surrounding that “this boy doesn’t have any emotions for these happenings. Why he is not sad?” This really made me feel crying like hell.

Inspite of all these happenings things were going fine until few days back when I discovered something strange in my behavior. I was talking to my best friend and she realized that I wasn’t in good mood. She asked me reason for the same and guess what I couldn’t explain the reason. Although I wanted to share but I was falling short of words I tried a lot but all in vain. And that was the moment when I came to know that I HAVE LOST THE ABILITY TO EXPRESS MY SELF. This fake unrealistic behavior of mine has leaded me to nowhere. I was so much frustrated on my this behavior.. I felt helpless that I couldn’t share myself with my best friend. At that time I thought of doing only one thing in which I am expert i.e. bursting out into laughter. I started laughing and remained laughing.

At that night I couldn’t sleep. I kept on thinking about this evolution that had taken place inside me. I decided that from now onwards I would try to express myself how so ever difficult it would be. For next few days I tried a lot. Became angry when people were not listening to me, I cried (in solitude sorry couldn’t do that publically) in pain, I SMILED.. (Smiling for some reason is much more relaxing than laughing without any reason). But again I heard some whispers that I have started showing attitude. Now people hate me because I don’t laugh at their silly talks, because I become angry on their rude behavior towards me or rather because I show my true emotions of myself.

Agar main ek joker hoon to kya mujhe gussa hone ka haq nahi? Kya mujhe pareshaan hoke rone ka haq nahi? Kya zaroori hai mujhe kisi baat ka bura na lage? Kya ye zaroori hai ki main har baat par hasta rahu?main hazaaron baar doosro ke liye hasta hoon kya aisa koi nahi jo ek baar mere liye has de?

Par main ye sab kya soch raha hoon? Kya likh raha hoon? Main bachpan se hi joker hoon aur joker hi rahunga. Mera kaam doosro ko hasana hai unhe pareshaani se nikalna hai. Emotions, bhaavnaayein in sab baaton ka mere jeevan mein koi matlab nahi. Bas mujhe hasna aata hai.. aur main hasta rahoonga.