शनिवार, 9 मार्च 2013

Impossible Braids !



Braids are a very conspicuous part of my childhood memories. I have been blessed with curly, thick, black hair.You could say I am born with a natural perm ! My tresses used to be so thick and rough, it was difficult to hold my hair while combing. Did I comb my hair myself ? Out of question ! I always needed someone sporting enough to volunteer for handling my hair !You must have already started fancying what my hair must have looked like ! Right ? Let me help you with this.

Sundays used to be the days of reckoning ! For it was the day when I used to shampoo my hair and leave it loose to dry. My hair would dry by evening only. After all, there were layers and layers of puffed hair. One of my uncles used to pat me on my head and say I had a safety cushion on my head ! So in the evening, my mother would arm herself with a bottle of hair oil, a thick and sturdy comb and make me sit between her knees. Then began her tussle with my tresses ! She would gather some hair on one side in one hand and try to "collect" the rest of the hair with the other hand. The moment her grip on the hair slackened, the hair would all come apart and form a big halo around my head ! No wonder my little brothers and sisters would call me Sai Baba ! As far as the volume is concerned, I think I would have given him tough competition ! Right then ! The tug of war would continue ! My mother resorted to applying more oil and thus try to tame my hair ! It was like weaving a braid out of thick ropes ! Sometimes the teeth of the comb would snap and get lost in the thick jungle of hair ! My little brothers and sisters would "stop by the woods" of my rowdy hair and wonder which animals inhabited the deep woods ! 


People would invariably remember me by my hair ! But they would straight away refuse to oblige me by combing and tying my hair in a braid. Nobody dared touch my "aura" except my mother who had no choice at all ! She was the lone warrior who battled the arrogance of my uncouth crowd of or crown of hair !         


Finally, my hair succumbed to my mother's indomitable courage and showed up in two thick braids ! Always ready to snap open the hair band and stick out of my head like Savannah Grasslands in revolt ! 


Such was the ritual of tying my hair in a braid ! No split ends ! Yeah ? All loose ends ! And wild ends to conquer ! What say ?






तुम पर है



बात है ही कुछ ऐसी ,
क्या कीजिये !

यदि तुम्हारी यादें,
तुम्हारी बातें,
मन में तहा कर रखना,
सोचना तुम्हारे बारे में 
मानो माँगना दुआ,
तुम्हारे लिए मेरा 
ऐसा होना 
अगर .. होता है प्यार,
तो मुझे है स्वीकार।
और मुझे तुमसे 
प्यार करने से,
कोई नहीं रोक सकता .

तुम भी नहीं .
मैं भी नहीं .

नदी को बहने से 
कौन रोक पाया है ?
तुम अपनी नौका 
नदी में उतारो, ना उतारो,
वह तुम पर है. 

फूल को खिलने से 
कौन रोक पाया है ? 
फूल चुन कर मंदिर में चढाओ, ना चढाओ,
यह तुम पर है .

दुविधा क्या है ?
तुम्हें तो पता है .
नदी तो अनवरत 
तटस्थ बहती रहती है,
दो तटों के बीच 
संयम से बंधी है .
बाढ़ आना 
एक विपदा है,
उसका अभिप्राय नहीं .

फूल तो अपनी शाख पर 
खिलता है सहज ही .
खुशबू उसका स्वभाव है,
नियति नहीं .
बात समझे या नहीं ?

नदी का बहना,
फूल का खिलना,
अंतरतम के भावों की 
अभिव्यक्ति है .
भावों की गंगा बहने दो .
भावों के कमल खिलने दो .
इस अनुभूति को आत्मसात तुम करो, न करो,
यह तुम पर है .