जीवन क्या है, चलता फिरता इक खिलौना है

This is a beautiful ghazal by Jagjit Singh. I was listening to it and thought of posting it here...

जीवन क्या है, चलता फिरता, इक खिलौना है,
दो आँखों में, इक से हँसना, इक से रोना है
चलते चलते राह में यूँहीं, रास्ता मुड़ जाता है,
जाने में, अनजाने से, रिश्ता जुड़ जाता है
किसे पता है, किस रास्ते में, कब क्या होना है,
जीवन क्या है, चलता फिरता, इक खिलौना है


है बीत गया जो, वह ही हर पल, आगे क्यों चलता है
राख हुए अंगारे कबके, फिर भी दिल जलता है
भूली भिसरी यादों को, अश्कों से धोना है,
जीवन क्या है, चलता फिरता, इक खिलौना है
जो जी चाहे, वह मिल जाए, कब ऐसा होता है
हर जीवन, जीने का, समझौता होता है
आज तक जो होता आया है, वह ही होना है
जीवन क्या है, चलता फिरता, इक खिलौना है


रात अँधेरी, भोर सुन्हेरी, येही ज़माना है
हर चादर में, सुख का ताना, दुःख का बाना है
आती साँस को पाना, जाती साँस को खोना है
जीवन क्या है, चलता फिरता, इक खिलौना है
दो चेहरों से, जीना भी, कैसी मजबूरी है
जितना जो नस्दीक है उससे, उतनी दूरी है
फूलों के सपने लेकर, काँटों पर सोना है
जीवन क्या है, चलता फिरता, इक खिलौना है


परछाई जैसा कोई, साँसों में चलता है
भूली भिसरी यादों को, अश्कों से धोना है
जीवन क्या है, चलता फिरता, इक खिलौना है

Blabber

I had written this on one of my less rational days, about five months ago. At that time I had decided not to post it. This was sitting pretty as a draft and I don't think it is worth sharing. I guess, today again, the right side of the brain is overpowering the left:) and that is why you see it here:).

All the world's a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed.
- Sean O'Casey
Read this quote this morning and found it so apt. Oh God, I am turning philosophical day by day:) I remember, during our tenth class farewell, a friend of mine warned me against that. She said, you have total tendencies to turn into a philosopher, refrain from that. Ten years down the line; I did not become a philosopher but see what I am writing:). Again, before my umpteen tendencies to digress from the basic story, I had rather write something less arbit. Each day, something new happens, you listen to various views, experiences and in a way relate to them too. Talking of the unrehearsed part, I think, yes, for most of the situations in life we are totally unprepared. Something hits you for the first time, you really don’t know how to react to that situation and then we do react in maybe a right or a wrong way. Here our previous experiences and social conditioning comes handy. But then if you ponder over your reactions after a certain period of time, you think that you could have handled the situation in a better way. But then, time once lost is gone….it becomes an experience and wisdom for others.

pure melody!

Years back, there used to be a serial on DD, 'charitraheen'. I was searching for 'Sheetal, manjul, komal' from this serial. This song has mesmerised me for years. I found this site http://www.salilda.com/tvserials.asp (The World of Salil Chaudhary). As a bonus, also found the title music of Vividha!, another serial based on Rabindranath Tagore's short stories and a ghazal composed by Salil Chaudhary. This site is a music mine, the more you dig, the more you get....

Inspiration

My father once bought a couple of paper backs on Swami Vivekananda. I must be in third or fourth grade at that time. After reading the books, I yearned for more of Swami Vivekananda's teachings. Seeing my interest, he got me a few more books. I sought those books and his writings again. They are more than just words...
The Vivekananda Vedanta Network (http://www.vivekananda.org/index2.asp) offers a host of information on Swami Vivekananda. The poems reveal an altogether different persona of the Great man, a revelation to me. 'Hold on Yet a While, Brave Heart' is my personal favourite.

HOLD ON YET A WHILE, BRAVE HEART
(Written to H. H. The Maharaja of Khetri, Rajputana.)

If the sun by the cloud is hidden a bit,

If the welkin shows but gloom,

Still hold on yet a while, brave heart,

The victory is sure to come.

No winter was but summer came behind,

Each hollow crests the wave,

They push each other in light and shade;

Be steady then and brave.

The duties of life are sore indeed,

And its pleasures fleeting, vain,

The goal so shadowy seems and dim,

Yet plod on through the dark, brave heart,

With all thy might and main.

Not a work will be lost, no struggle vain,

Though hopes be blighted, powers gone;

Of thy loins shall come the heirs to all,

Then hold on yet a while, brave soul,

No good is e'er undone.

Though the good and the wise in life are few,

Yet theirs are the reins to lead,

The masses know but late the worth;

Heed none and gently guide.

With thee are those who see afar,

With thee is the Lord of might,

All blessings pour on thee, great soul,

To thee may all come right!

(Source:http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Complete_Works_of_Swami_Vivekananda/Volume_4/Writings:_Poems/Hold_on_Yet_a_While%2C_Brave_Heart)

Time moves on.....

From The Bible:

To everything there is a season,
a time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill and a time to heal ...
a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance ...
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to lose and a time to seek;
a time to rend and a time to sew;
a time to keep silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

The Endings...

What I witnessed today reminded me of Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem:

Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead

Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
'She must weep or she will die.'

Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee--
Like summer tempest came her tears--
'Sweet my child, I live for thee.'

When we were about to leave the cremation ground, I saw three Army men, carrying a wreath and enquiring about a particular no. of funeral pyre. They had come to pay their last respects when all others had left. I looked back and saw them saluting..I couldn't help but think as to what happened to the Army punctuality.....

Patience

Just yesterday, we were discussing about a lost virtue, if it could be called so, patience. I was at an ATM counter trying really hard to extract some money out of it. Hard, cause, the machine wouldn't work. I tried once, twice and finally with a different card but it failed to oblige. The amount of time spent on the activity is anybody's guess. While I was struggling with the machine, a policeman suddenly entered the booth. I was like monsieur, please read 'one person at a time' clearly mentioned outside. The guard followed him and in a very polite manner plainly stated the words. However, this man was in no mood to hear anyone. He started shouting that he was not supposed to stand outside and refused to budge. This, when there were no long queues . I think if he had been at the end of a queue, he would have taken out his pistol:). I guess, people like him should be provided Vantage cards...they need them:) And, I wonder if the machine survived his wrath....