क्यों लिखता हूँ हिंदी में?

सीधा सा जवाब है - भई हिंदी भाषी हिन्दुस्तानी हूँ इसीलिए. अगर पाकिस्तानी होता, तो अवश्य हिंदी में ना लिखकर उर्दू में लिख रहा होता. पर ईश्वर की असीम अनुकम्पा से वो तो मैं हूँ नहीं.

पर क्या जवाब वास्तव में इतना सीधा-सरल है? शायद नहीं. सीधा होता तब, जब यही सवाल किसी जापानी, फ्रेंच, जर्मन या चीनी से पूछा जाता कि भई आप अंग्रेजी में ना लिखकर जापानी, फ्रेंच, जर्मन या चीनी भाषा में क्यों लिखते हो?  पर हम हिन्दुस्तानियों के साथ मुझे नहीं लगता कि ऐसा है.

लोग हैं जो अक्सर यह पूछ बैठते हैं - "आप बिहारी हो?"

"हाँ. हूँ." - मैं जवाब देता हूँ. और यदि पूछने वाला राज ठाकरे जैसी मानसिकता का शिकार नहीं है तो अक्सर मुझे यह पता होता है कि अगला प्रश्न क्या होने जा रहा है. 

"फिर तो आप बिहारी जानते होंगे?" - अगला प्रश्न. पता नहीं क्यों काफ़ी लोगों को ऐसा लगता है कि "बिहारी" कोई भाषा भी है.

"जी नहीं, बिहारी तो मुझे नहीं आती. और बिहारी कोई भाषा है भी नहीं. हाँ, बिहार में बोलियाँ अवश्य कई सारी बोली जाती हैं जैसे की भोजपुरी, मैथिलि और बज्जिका. मैं बज्जिका-भाषी प्रदेश का रहने वाला हूँ, पर खेद इस बात का है कि मुझे बज्जिका भी नहीं आती." - मैं अपनी इज्जत को ताक पर रख देता हूँ. 

हाँ! यह शत-प्रतिशत सही है कि मुझे अपनी ही बोली नहीं आती. नानाजी नौकरी-पेशा थे और एक ट्रांसफरेबल जॉब में थे, शायद इसी वजह से माँ को कोई स्थानीय बोली नहीं आती थी. नतीजतन घर में हमेशा हिंदी का ही प्रयोग हुआ. कक्षा ४ से हॉस्टल में था इसलिए महनार आना जाना भी छोटी-छोटी छुट्टियों में ही हो पाता था. इसलिए बज्जिका भाषा से बदकिस्मती से अछूता ही रह गया. (यह बात अलग है कि विद्यालय में बंगाली की पढ़ाई होने के कारण बंगाली सिख गया. पर बंगाली को जानना बज्जिका को नहीं जानने का बहाना तो नहीं हो सकता ना?)

फिर दूसरा प्रहार तब हुआ जब विद्यालय से दशम वर्ग कि परीक्षा उत्तीर्ण की.  इससे पहले की भाँप पाता, हिंदी से भी धीरे-धीरे कब दूरी बढ़ती चली गयी पता ही नहीं चला. पहले तो वह कक्षा ११ और १२ के पाठ्यक्रम से गायब हुई, और फिर आहिस्ता-आहिस्ता अखबार तक अंग्रेजी हो गया. हद तो तब हो गयी जब यह पाया कि भई हिंदी सिनेमा में भी हिंदी की देवनागरी लिपि का नहीं बल्कि अंग्रेजी की रोमन लिपि का प्रयोग हो रहा है. बताइए, हिंदी को सशक्त करने का सबसे सटीक तरीका शायद हिंदी सिनेमा ही होगा, और हिंदी वहाँ से भी निकाल बाहर की गई. यह तो गनीमत है कि ऐसी स्थिति अभी तक अन्य भाषाओं की नहीं हुई है. और शुभ यह है कि आजकल कई हिंदी टी.वी. सिरिअल्स देवनागरी लिपि का प्रयोग करते दिख रहे हैं. 

यह सिर्फ हिंदी की नहीं, बल्कि कमोबेश इस देश की तमाम भाषाओं की वेदना है. देश इतना वृहद् और विभिन्नता भरा है कि इस देश को एकजुट रखने का और परस्पर एक दूसरे को समझने-समझाने का सारा श्रेय अकेली अंग्रेजी के झोले में चला जाता है. ऊपर से समूचे विश्व में शायद हम ही एकमात्र ऐसे देश हैं जहाँ सारी की सारी आर्थिक तरक्की एक मूलतः विदेशी भाषा के कन्धों पर टिकी है. मजाल है किसी की जो अंग्रेजी ना जानते हुए भी इस देश में एक अच्छा कार्पोरेट करिअर बना ले? जापान, फ्रांस, चीन या जर्मनी में तो ऐसा नहीं होता? और ये सारे के सारे राष्ट्र विश्व-भाषा अंग्रेजी को ना जानते हुए भी हमसे कहीं अधिक बड़ी आर्थिक ताकतें हैं. 

ज़िन्दगी जीने की दौड़ में लगे-लगे हिंदी कब व्यक्तिगत रूप से भी बस बोलचाल की भाषा बनकर रह गयी पता ही नहीं चला. स्कूल, कॉलेज की पुस्तकें अंग्रेजी में, हिंदी सिनेमा अंग्रेजी में, दुकानों के बोर्ड्स अंग्रेजी में. यहाँ तक की आजकल छोटे से छोटे होटलों के मेनू कार्ड्स भी अंग्रेजी में ही होते हैं. कभी-कभी तो ऐसा लगता है कि अंग्रेजी सही में हमारी ताकत है या केवल आज-तलक गुलाम-मानसिकता में जकड़े होने का प्रमाण. राजनैतिक नेताओं के तरीकों से मैं इत्तेफाक नहीं रखता, पर हाँ इतना अवश्य मुझे समझ में नहीं आता कि अंग्रेजी के साथ-साथ अपनी ही मातृभाषाओं को होटलों के मेनू कार्ड्स, दुकानों के बोर्ड्स या सिनेमा के पर्दों पर बराबर की जगह क्यों नहीं मिल सकती? 

एक बात है, अंग्रेजी चाहे कितनी भी महत्वपूर्ण क्यों ना हो जाए, रहेगी वह हमेशा व्यापार की भाषा ही. उसका सम्बन्ध हमेशा पेट से पहले होगा और दिल से बाद में. और रोज़मर्रा की ज़िन्दगी से हैरान-परेशान इंसान कितना भी अंग्रेजी में टाएँ-टाएँ क्यों ना कर ले, सुकून के, अपनत्व भरे दो पलों के लिए वह वापस अपनी मातृभाषा की तरफ ही मुखातिब होगा - फिर उसकी मातृभाषा चाहे हिंदी हो, मराठी हो, बंगाली, पंजाबी, कन्नड़, मलयालयम, मणिपुरी हो या उन १,६५२ भाषाओँ में से कोई हो जो इस देश में बोली जाती हैं, कोई फर्क नहीं पड़ता. विश्वास नहीं होता तो अपनी भाषा में लिखी कोई साहित्यिक किताब उठाकर देखिये कि वह किस प्रकार आपको मरुभूमि सरीखे ताप से भरे व्यापार जगत से दूर किसी ठंढे, शांत, सुरम्य प्रदेश में ले जा छोड़ती है. 

जब ब्लोगिंग शुरू की तो अंग्रेजी में की. हिंदी से दूरियाँ इस कदर बढ़ गयीं थी कि यह सोच पाना भी मुश्किल हो गया था कि कभी अपनी ही भाषा में कोई ढ़ंग का आर्टिकल लिख पाऊँगा. पर फिर एक कोशिश की तो पाया कि थोड़े से परिश्रम की आवश्यकता है - हिंदी लेखन को भुला नहीं हूँ, बस वह पीछे कहीं खो भर गया है. बस तभी से कोशिश यही है कि अपने हिंदी लेखन को और सशक्त किया जाए और अपने इस ब्लॉग को एक द्विभाषीय ब्लॉग का जामा पहनाया जाए. 

हिंदी में बस इसलिए नहीं लिखता कि एक हिंदी-भाषी हिन्दुस्तानी हूँ, बल्कि इसलिए कि हिंदी में लेखन पूजा है, प्रायश्चित है, साधना है, भक्ति है, इण्डिया बनने की होर में दूर कही पीछे छूटते भारत को पकड़े रहने की कोशिश है. हिंदी में इसलिए लिखता हूँ क्योंकि हिंदी में लेखन एक ज़रिया है खुद को ढूंढ़ निकालने का.

PS - विकिपीडिया के मुताबिक १९६१ में हुए सेन्सस में यह पाया गया था कि भारत में कुल १,६५२  मातृभाषाएं हैं. सम्बंधित आर्टिकल के लिए यहाँ क्लिक करें. 

The Power of Ideas.

It is still not long back that a MAN rose. Although he was born near the Western coast of the present day India, he found his purpose in life in a land on the opposite end of the Indian Ocean. It so happened that one fine day he was travelling in a first class railway compartment with a valid first class railway ticket. However, since he was a black and the compartment was apparently reserved only for the white masters, he was asked to move to the third class compartment. Strangely enough, he refused and had to be forcefully thrown out of the compartment.

The far-off land was South Africa. And the man was a young barrister by the name of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi.

Now, incidents like this must have had been a daily affair all over the slave-world in the times when colonialism was the order of the day. Hundreds of people must have been thrown out of their compartments in a like-wise fashion. A few were men-enough to rise against the atrocity and claim their rightful place in the order of the humans. One of them was Mohandas.

The resources, if any, that he had to support himself and rely upon during his initial period of struggle were scanty. And the enemy that he was daring to stand up against was an empire so large that the sun never set completely on it. However, Mohandas had an idea that he wanted to implement, and he had so much faith in that idea of his that he was ready to work upon it, gradually evolve it and, if necessary lay down his life in order to prove it. The idea was Non-Violence and Satyagrah.

All that he had to say to his fellow countrymen was - "Speak truth. Be non-violent. Koi agar tumhe ek gaal pe thappar maare to dusara gaal aage kar do. Maar khao, itni adhik aur itni nirlajjata se maar khaao ki ek din maarne waala maarte-maarte thak jaaye aur wapas jahan se aaya tha wahin chala jaaye."

Weird, crazy and a laughable idea indeed. I wonder how he even dared to utter this idea in front of the public in general. Was he not afraid of being branded as a madman and being laughed at?

Whatever! The struggle began. The team started getting built up slowly. Over a period of time, the movement caught fire. The idea worked. And on 15th of August, 1947, a new star arose on the horizon. That star was India. Gandhi had achieved mostly what he had set out to achieve. He had made a land as unique as India all the more unique. While all the other nations were getting independence by violent means, we were the only one to get it mostly by a peaceful and non-violent method. And in the process, he himself had graduated from being just Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi to Gandhi and then to Mahatma and Bapu. By the time the nation got independence, Mohandas was no longer important. It was Gandhi all over.

With the support and deadly determination of those who believed in them, it has always been IDEAS that have evolved the world. And the strange-most thing that seems to be with these world-changing ideas is that they always come in packages so simple that they, in most of the cases, if not all, tend to get overlooked. In their early stages, they are so weird and laughable to look at that it needs immense courage and belief on the part of those who believe in them to hold their ground. And this happens to be the case with all the walks of life – be it Science - where a few crazy scientists dared to go against the Church and said that it is the Earth that goes round the Sun and not the other way round and were in fact hanged till death for their courage to go against the institution that claimed to represent the God himself; or be it Business – where Muhammad Yunus comes from Bangladesh, believes earnestly that poor can be bankable, works on the idea and proves it to the world that the big multinational banking giants are in fact highly mistaken when they say that poor are not credit worthy.

Most of us must have had some crazy idea or the other at some stage in our life. And most of us decided to give that crazy idea a cold shoulder and either ignore it completely or leave it to be worked upon at some later stage in life. It is sad - the way the ideas get overlooked because of the lack of courage on the part of the humans. And it is important that they be worked upon. After all those who live in the memory of the human race long after they are gone are those who, against all odds, believed in their ideas and dared to implement it. The rest, once they die, get lost as if they never existed at all.

The history of the world is truly the history of a few men who had faith in their ideas.

 Believe in your IDEAS. In most of the cases, they are worth dying for.

Who will cry when you die?

(No, I have not read the book by the same title by Mr. Robin S. Sharma and hence this article is not a book review. But still I am using the title of his book. Does that amount to an act of plagiarism? If yes, I do not have any hesitation in giving the credit for such a nice title to you Mr. Sharma.)

Let me tell you a small fact. A fact with which most of us new age people will associate.

A simple compounder by education, my grandfather was not a very degree-d man (Education and degrees are two completely different things even though these days they are used almost interchangeably). However, back there in my village, where we still own a medicine shop, he was highly respected. He used to perform small operations at a very low cost and was available for service almost 24*7*365. Doing so, he must have saved the poor villagers quite a good amount of their time and money by saving them from running to Patna at every medical emergency, small or big.

The day he died, the whole of Mahnar Bazaar was shut down for a day and a huge crowd of around 1500 people had assembled at our home. He had lived a satisfied man and he died a satisfied man as well. And, with his death, he left a void in the society that the people who were left back in fact could actually feel.

I am sure many of you will find similar stories in your own families if you look back a generation or two. But take a look at our own generation, especially those of us who have migrated to big cities in the search of big career/money, who live lonely lives in cities bustling with millions (and hence, to fill the void in the real world, create virtual identities on platforms like Orkut, Facebook and Twitter or write blogs – sharing ideas while doing really nothing), earn quite decent enough money and live a life of luxury dining in Mac D-es or shopping-till-dropping in the hyper malls that keep opening somewhere or the other almost every day.

Let us ask ourselves a simple yet highly disturbing question. After all the education that we have got, exactly how many individuals are going to benefit from our lives or our careers? I think not many. And in most of the cases – even zero. Heck, we do not have time for our parents back home, how are we supposed to have time to do good to others? We are a generation for which success is defined simply in terms of our pay packages and nothing else.

Isn’t it weird that the more the society invests in educating an individual, the less useful he seems to become for the society itself? So, it turns out that a simple compounder of the yesteryears – or may be even today – is far more important to the society than the people who have gone to big institutions, have invested lakhs in their higher education and are earning big money for themselves. Whose fault is that? Education? Or society’s?

Coming back to the original point, since ours is a generation immersed completely into the race of blind money-making and self-gratification, isn’t it an apt question to ask – Who will cry when we die?

Family? Not sure. 30 years from now, many of us will be so cut off from our families back in our home towns, that it seems unlikely that our deaths will be bringing any real loss to them. Parents will already be long gone, and children will most probably have flown off to distant shores in search of even greater money making success.

Colleagues from our offices? Are you kidding me? Ours is a generation of job hoppers and continuous migration. By the time you become friends with your colleagues, either you have moved on or he has. Sure, a few will obviously hang on with you for life through phone or virtual platforms like Facebook, Twitter and Orkut, but can interacting on these platforms really compete with the face-to-face interactions that people in small places have over a home-made or road side hot cup of tea? Leave crying apart, colleagues will be so busy with their office work; they will probably not even have enough time to think about you. Even the place that you are working in will be filled up by some new guy even before your funeral pyre has lost its heat. The world has become a fast moving place not only in life, but in death as well, you see.

Why is that so? May be because we were so engrossed in making success out of our lives that we in fact forgot to allot some part of it to genuine everyday causes that would have connected the society better on an emotional level. What we did instead was that we shopped and shopped and shopped, we dined in great places (which often charge more for the ambience rather than the food itself), we purchased costly cars and other gadgets - and wrote blogs - and ultimately surrounded ourselves so much by these things that the real people from the real world were seldom able to peek in and say a genuine, warm hello to us. 

And things to which we gave our time, cars, gadgets, shopping, dining, blogs, work, offices, money simply do not know how and why to cry. People know that, and people is what we forgot to really connect with on a more genuine and humane level.

This is a question that has been troubling me continuously for the last few months. I have completed by graduation from Pune and am employed in a well-paying job in Mumbai, am planning to pursue an MBA, but am not really interested in doing any higher education. Have been feeling terribly home-sick for the last some months which is kind of strange because I had been snatched away my right to stay at home when I was in class 4 itself and was sent to a hostel. Sometimes, I feel the urge to just let go of everything and go back to the place where my grandfather lived his whole life and start a school over there. But then, I am probably too educated to do that. Moreover, such an act of mine will be at a complete collision with the definition of success that the society has carved out for me.

In the race of making a career, I never properly stayed with my Maa or Papa and in the race of making a career there will be very few people, if any, who will cry when I die. I find that frightening.

No doubt, in spite of having comfortable SleepWell mattresses in my home, I seldom get a sound sleep.

Any comments?

अर्थ-आवर मनायें तो, पर ..

गत २७ मार्च को विश्व भर में अर्थ-आवर मनाया गया. WWF की अगुआई में सम्पन्न हुए इस कार्यक्रम का मुख्य उद्देश्य था तेज़ी से बढ़ती ग्लोबल वार्मिंग से परेशान मानवजाति के प्रति संवेदना व्यक्त करना और इस विकट परिस्थिति की तरफ लोगों का ध्यान आकर्षित करना. कार्यक्रम काफी हद तक सफल रहा. अगर WWF के वेब-पेज पर एक नज़र डालें तो पता चलता है कि विश्व भर के १२६ देशों ने अर्थ-आवर २०१० में बढ़चढ़ कर हिस्सा लिया. भारतीय समयानुसार शाम के साढ़े आठ बजे से लेकर साढ़े नौ बजे तक विश्व भर की कई सुप्रसिद्ध इमारतों ने अपनी-अपनी बत्तियां गुल कर दीं. २००७ में ऑस्ट्रेलिया से प्रारंभ होकर यह ऐसा चौथा लगातार वर्ष था, जब मानवजाति ने अप्राकृतिक कारणों के नतीजतन तेजी से बढ़ते तापमान से परेशान मानवता के प्रति सहानुभूति प्रदर्शित की.

अजीब है; नहीं? मानव निर्मित इस विपदा से परेशान है कौन? मानव. और सहानुभूति प्रदर्शित कर रहा है कौन? स्वयं मानव.

अर्थ-आवर कितना सफल था और कितना नहीं यह एक बहस का मुद्दा है. अगर कुछ अन्य आकड़ों पर ध्यान दें तो ज्ञात हो कि इस पूरे १ घंटे के दौरान जितनी बिजली की बचत हुई, उतनी बिजली चीन अकेले मात्र दो मिनटों की अल्पावधि में खर्च डालता है, और भारत इससे कुछ अधिक मिनटों में.

अगर ईमानदारी से हम अपने-अपने गिरेह्बानों में झाकें तो पायेंगे कि अर्थ-आवर जैसे वैश्विक स्तर के कार्यक्रमों की सफलता इस बात पर तो निर्भर करती ही है कि उसे कितने राष्ट्रों का सहयोग मिला, पर उससे भी कहीं अधिक इसपर निर्भर करती है कि उसमें कितने लोगों ने अपने-अपने निजी स्तरों पे भाग लिया. तो आईये, जरा पूछें अपने-आप से कि हमने इस कार्यक्रम में कितना योगदान किया और कितना नहीं.

जिस घंटे अर्थ-आवर मनाया जा रहा था, उस वक़्त मेरे घर की बत्तियां बुझी हुई थीं और पंखा बंद था. AC मैं इस्तेमाल करता नहीं, तो उसका सवाल ही नहीं उठता. हाँ, फ्रिज शायद चालु ही छुट गया होगा. पर यह सब ऐसा अर्थ-आवर के उपलक्ष्य में नहीं था, अपितु इसलिए था कि मैं उस वक़्त अपने घर के बाहर किसी निजी कार्य से निकला हुआ था. यदि घर पे होता तो शायद अर्थ-आवर में योगदान करने के बजाय टेलीविजन पर उससे सम्बंधित ताज़ातरीन खबरें देख रहा होता.

ये तो थी मेरी दास्ताँ. पर क्या आपने अर्थ-आवर में भाग लिया? शायद नहीं लिया होगा. अगर लिया होगा तो अति-उत्तम; यदि ना लिया हो तो भी कोई बहुत बड़ा नुकसान हुआ हो, ऐसी बात नहीं है. मगर हाँ, यदि आप अपनी रोजमर्रा की ज़िन्दगी में एहतियात नहीं बरतते हैं, तो यह अवश्य एक गहन चिंता का विषय है.

ऐसा आखिरकार क्यों है कि हम अर्थ-आवर और ग्लोबल-वार्मिंग की बातें तो बढ़चढ़ कर करते हैं, अखबारों और अन्य पत्रिकाओं में लेख भी जमकर लिखते हैं, मगर जब दिन-प्रतिदिन के आचरण की बात आती है, तो खुद को अत्यंत ही ढीला-ढाला पाते हैं?

फ़र्ज़ कीजिये कि आप घर से बाहर कुछ खरीददारी करने निकलते हैं. ऐसा कितनी बार हुआ है कि आपने अपना कपड़े का झोला साथ में लिया हो? नहीं लेते हैं. हममें से शायद मुट्ठी भर लोग हीं इस नियम का पालन करते होंगे. या फिर यह कि अगर एक कमरे में बैठें हों तो यह सुनिश्चित कर लें कि अन्य कमरों में विद्युत् से चलने वाला कोई यन्त्र अन्यथा ही ना चल रहा हो?

मुंबई में जिस दिन नो होंकिंग डे मनाया गया और इसकी अवहेलना करने वालों को फाइन की चपत लगाईं गयी, उस दिन पुरे शहर में बेवजह बजने वाले हार्नों की मात्रा में आश्चर्यजनक रूप से गिरावट दर्ज की गयी. मगर अगले दिन से वही ढ़ाक के तीन पात. किसी भी लाल-बत्ती पे खड़े हो जाइए, लोग ना तो - अगणित सरकारी, गैर सरकारी विज्ञापनों के बावजूद - अपनी गाड़ियों का इंजन ही बंद करते हैं, और ना ही बेवजह होर्न बजाने से ही बाज आते हैं. अरे भाई, अगर जगह मिलेगी तो आगे वाला आगे बढ़ेगा हीं. जहाँ का तहाँ खड़ा तो रहेगा नहीं. इतनी सी बात भी हमारी समझ में नहीं आती है शायद. या फिर यदि आती है, तो कहीं ऐसा तो नहीं कि हमारी संवेदनात्मक इन्द्रियाँ हीं निष्काम हो गयी हों? 

ऐसे में हम अर्थ-आवर मनायें या ना मनायें, कोई फर्क नहीं पड़ता. जब संवेदनशीलता ही शिथिल या निष्काम हो, तो आखिर कोई संवेदना व्यक्त करे भी तो कैसे? मगर यदि ना करें तो उसमें भी नुकसान तो भाई हमारा, आपका या हमारी अजन्मी संततियों का ही है, किसी और का तो है नहीं. 

चलिए, मान लिया कि भारत ने अभी-अभी चन्द्रमा पर पानी की उपस्थिति की खोज की है. और इस तथ्य पर विश्व के सर्वाधिक शक्तिशाली देश अमेरिका की अंतरिक्ष अन्वेषण संस्था नासा का ठप्पा भी लग गया है. अनुमान लगाया जा रहा है कि इस सुखद खोज से चाँद पर इंसानों को बसाने का सपना हकीकत के और करीब आ गया है. कहीं ऐसा तो नहीं कि आप निकट भविष्य में चाँद पर निकल भागने का सपना दिल में संजोये बैठे हैं, और इसीलिए धरती की तकलीफों के प्रति सर्वथा उदासीन हैं? 

अगर ऐसा है, तो भई खुदा ही ख़ैर करे. मैं ये नहीं कहता कि भविष्य में इंसान चाँद पर डेरा जमाये नहीं बैठा होगा. अब तो विज्ञान ने इतनी तरक्की कर ली है कि कुछ भी असंभव प्रतीत नहीं होता. मगर गौर फ़रमाने वाली बात ये है कि यदि आदमी चाँद पर बस भी जाए, तो भी हम और आप वहाँ तक कभी पहुँच भी पायेंगे क्या? आपकी सोच इस विषय में क्या है, मुझे नहीं पता; पर जहां तक मेरा सवाल है, मुझे तो ऐसा कतई नहीं लगता. और लगे भी तो कैसे? भई साहब, हम और आप तो एक ऐसे तबके से आते हैं, जो पेट्रोल-डीजल या रेलगाड़ी के टिकट में ५० पैसे, १ या २ रुपये वाली की गई सर्वथा जायज वृद्धि को ही झेलने का गुर्दा नहीं रखते, और देखते-ना-देखते देश भर में चक्का जाम और हड़तालें कर डालते हैं. चाँद पर बसने के लिए अरबों रुपये की धनराशी लायें भी तो कहाँ से लायें? 

तो भई, अगर हम थोड़ा सोचे-विचारें तो पता चले कि इस अनंत ब्रह्माण्ड में अगर हमारा कोई सामूहिक ठिकाना है तो वह हमारी पृथ्वी ही है. धरती है, तो हम हैं. धरती है, तो एक दिन चाँद पर घर बसाने का सपना है. धरती है, तो अनंत अंतरिक्ष के भीतर और इसकी सीमाओं के दूसरी ओर के रहस्यों का एक दिन पर्दाफाश करने का जज्बा है. धरती नहीं, तो कुछ भी नहीं. और भई, इस धरती को तो विश्व की अनेकानेक सभ्यताओं में माता की संज्ञा दी गयी है; माता जो हमें पालती है, पोसती है, जरूरत और ऐशो-आराम की हर वह चीज मुहैय्या कराती है जिसकी ज़िन्दगी को जरुरत होती है. और एक हम हैं, जो उस माता का शोषण करते बाज नहीं आते. क्या हमने अपनी सारी शर्मो-हया की वास्तव में तिलांजलि दे दी है? 

तो निष्कर्ष यह है कि अर्थ-आवर या नो होंकिंग डे इत्यादि मनाने या ना मनाने में कोई बुराई नहीं है. गलत तो तब है जब हम अपनी रोज़मर्रा कि आदतों से लाचार हो अपनी छोटी-छोटी जिम्मेदारियों को ताक पर रख देते हैं और स्वांग ऐसा करते हैं जैसे हमें कुछ ज्ञात ही ना हो. कितना सुखद होगा वह दिन जब मानवता शायद सोते से जागेगी और वसुंधरा के प्रति एक भावपूर्ण रिश्ते की नींव रखेगी! 

आखिरकार अर्थ-आवर मनाने का मुख्य उद्देश्य भी तो यही है.

धरती चाँद से - मनायें अर्थ-आवर. ज़िन्दगी भर.

कुत्ता / आदमी

ज़ुबाँ क्या पा ली आदमी ने
खुद को
बावज़ूद अपनी तमाम खामियों के 
इंसान का दर्ज़ा
दे डाला.

बे-ज़ुबाँ कुत्ता बेचारा
विरोध अपना दर्ज़ न करा पाया
औ'
बावज़ूद अपनी तमाम अच्छाइयों के
रह गया
एक अपशब्द-मात्र बनकर.

Show me my path, O Swami.

At a time when there is no sun,
And life seems to be all rain;
I pray to you, O Swami,
Come -
Show me the right path once again.

Life has been confusing
For eight long years now;
I hope sincerely -
You will come;
And with your blessings
Me bestow.

Sometimes I feel like running away
From all my present and all my past.
Go into a Journey to the Unknown
And in spite of all the adversities -
Last.

Attract me immensely the Two,
Who went all the way to Tibet from Germany.
And witnessed the fall of the humble-most people,
In the onslaught of the Chinese tyranny.

No, try I as much as I may,
I am unable to recollect their name(s),
But didn't you say that for me,
(The inheritor of the longest surviving civilization on Earth),
The name doesn't matter,
Neither does fame?

On the Roof Top of the World,
For seven long years they stayed;
Saddened at the pains of the locals,
They cried with them,
When tears they shed.

I want to travel all the way to Dharamshala,
And meet His Holiness
The Great Dalai Lama.

Carries he still a smile so genuine,
Despite knowing that his motherland is
Going not to be free
By whatsoever mean(s).
I wonder what makes him
Keep himself so serene.

Then there was this man Rahul Sankrityayan,
Whom I have been reading of late.
Ran away from his home he did
In the search of real wisdom
And in the company of Sadhus,
Turned himself into a scholar great.

There have always been journeys to make
And there have been people who know
Exactly what they need to do.
Be he Gandhi, Hitler, Laden
Or be he You.

I am ready to walk my path,
Only the direction remains elusive,
Which I cannot see.
Surrender so I myself to you, O Swami,
Come and show me my path Thee.

Sair kar duniya ki gafil, Zindagaani phir kahaan.

I do not remember the name of the One who ran away into the wild as much as for the sake of the love of Mother Nature and Ultimate Freedom as much as due to his troubled family background. Living as a destitute, he managed to survive for around 2 and half years in the wild, before he succumbed to death in the icy American state of Alaska. He had miscalculated the time when the river flowing outside the jungle will be full to its rim with water; and it was this miscalculation that proved to be his undoing. This is the story of the English movie “Into The Wild” that I saw a few months back.

Yes, there are people out there who choose to explore the Unknown over spending their whole life selling soaps or sitting in front of a computer. It is just that they are a bit invisible and you need to look keenly for them in order to discover them and their free spirit.

Even more interesting is the fact that you might not need to look far away to discover them. There may be people you are close to who have been on the Ultimate Journey of Life, have come back and have lived a successful life thereafter.

Last weekend, when Tudu came to my place, the conversation entered the topic of “How to live a life more free, a life in which you need not go to the office daily, and a life which is more exiting and full of adventure.” Both of us are already our marriageable age, and are quite perplexed whether we want to enter the institution of marriage or not. Marriage, after all, is a point of no return; isn’t it? And the decision to enter it must be a well thought out one.

It was during the course of this talk that he remembered that his father had run away to Burma by hiding himself in a Pani ka Jahaj in Kalkatta. He stayed there for quite some time before coming back to his familiar surroundings of Jharkhand. He has lived his life by working in the Trade Union of the Eastern Coal Mines and is planning to launch himself into local politics. He has even got an entry into the Kendriya Samiti of Jharkhand Mukti Morcha and, God willing, will grow from strength to strength over a period of time. A life full of life and of activity, I would say.

I had also heard sometime my father saying that Babu (his father) had run away into the Himalayas just after his marriage. Since, I was not very sure of the facts, I called up Chhote Dadaji. He agreed and told that it was basically due to the love of adventure, for the attraction of the unknown that he had done so. The whole family was worried for a whole one month before my Grandfather dropped a postcard to his father from Lucknow. He was away from home for around 5 or 6 months - going through places like Badrinath and Haridwar with the unknown people that he befriended during the course of journey. Since my father was born in 1954, this must have been sometime in 1952 or 1953.

Later, after coming back to Mahnar, my native place, he, being a compounder by education, started a medicine shop and served as the local doctor for the village, treating poor patients for very small token fee and giving them medicines. The day he was cremated, after his untimely and sudden death, the whole Mahnar Bazaar was closed. Around 1500 people from Mahnar and near-by villages had come to my home that day.

Are these lives not as successful as the one that we are trying to lead? Yes, they definitely are. Unlike the present generation, which spends its whole life first in school and then in office, the people of yesteryears  probably did have a better sense of freedom and adventure. Where has that unbound spirit been lost? Why is it that the only fight that we are left with today is concerned with earning our daily bread and raising a family and nothing else? 

Let me have a peek at my own life.

The only time I have run away till date was on the day of my class 12 Mathematics Board Examination. I had run away to the Shankar Talkies, the only Dolby theatre in the whole of Deoghar district at that time, to watch the newly released Haan Maine Bhi Pyar Kiya Hai. And I was not alone; we were a group of 4 or 5 boys. We had sneaked away into the open and under the darkness of the evening had walked all the way to the Shankar Talkies. One thing that Vidyapith was really low on was movies. We had to wait for months together for seeing a Hindi movie, and that too after a lot of censorship from the office of Shakti Maharaj.

Chhote Dadaji, while telling me about the run-away adventure of Dadaji, told that that was an era when people were influenced by Sri Rahul Sankrityayan, who had apparently given the slogan - ghar se bhago.

Dadaji also told a very beautiful shaayari, which is –

सैर कर दुनिया की गाफ़िल,
ज़िंदगानी फिर कहाँ?
औ' जिंदगानी है ग़र फिर तो 
नौजवानी फिर कहाँ?


I find myself humming this sher very often these days. 

May be one day I will muster enough courage to go on my own journey. May be that day will be sometime in the near future. Kyuki zindagi me kam se kam ek baar to bhaagna banta hai, mere dost.

The theory of divine frustration.

I have not seen God. But there are people who claim they have.

Many of those who claim so go a step further. They claim not only to have seen Him (or Her), but claim to have done all sorts of activities with Him like walking, talking, walking while talking, sleeping, having lunch, dinner, snacks et al.

Thankfully, there is none yet who has claimed to have had SEX with Him. Or if there is one, I beg pardon for my limited knowledge. Would having SEX with Him be qualified as unnatural? In case that has been the reason none has claimed to have gone to this extent, we might very soon come across someone innovative enough claiming that as well. Remember, Delhi High Court passed a judgment last year legalizing some aspects of Sec 377 of the Indian Penal Code? That decision is yet to be challenged in the highest court of the land.

The people who claim to have so interacted with God are known by various names – some call them Baba, some Father, some Priest, some Maulvies, some Pundits and so on – it all depends on what school of thought one subscribes to. I will call them Godmen, a term very secular and fairly well known.

These Godmen paint a very colorful, yet immensely hazy, picture of the God they claim to have seen. Some say that He has got a billion hands with a million heads (He has to take care of this whole Universe and beyond after all!!) while some say He is just a bright light, brighter than a million suns put together (Is that why those who claim to have seen Him get a bright aura painted at the back of their head?). The purpose of doing so may very well be to keep the queue of their devotees as long as ever. They seem to follow the corporate world funda very well - “Confuse if you can’t convince.” This serves them in right esteem. Some of them are known to have assets going into millions, far greater than even those of some corporate houses.

Religion and Spirituality should be given the legal status of industry. They are big time money churners. They were the first exports that our Motherland made to the outer world.

But, the end point is, I have not seen God. I am not even sure if He exists.

But there is one question that has bothered me always. What am I doing in this world? What is the purpose of my existence? And why only me? This is a question that has been bothering the whole human race since time immemorial. A lot of time has been spent in finding an answer to it. An immense number of books have been written on the subject. But the answer remains elusive as ever.

During the course of my search, I came across a theory. It is not anything great. But I did find it interesting. I do not know who the propounder of the theory is. In any case, in the matters purely of God, it probably does not matter either.

The theory calls itself “The Theory of Divine Frustration.”

It talks of a time beyond the comprehension of the human mind. At that time, there was no life, nor was there our beautiful earth. Not even the solar system as we know it. In fact, it talks about a time when there was no universe at all. The Big-Bang was yet to happen, or to be caused.

There was only one entity that existed then. An entity this theory calls the Frustrated Supreme Power. Where it lived and what it did to pass away its time are questions it does not give answers to.

What it does say however is that FSP was a very powerful creature. He had a lot of brains, but absolutely nothing to do. He was immensely bored with the vast spread of nothingness all around. He had no clue what He was doing there and what the purpose of His existence was. More or less the same questions that we all are searching answers to.

Being so frustrated, one fine morning (just for the heck of saying it – there was obviously no concept of time at that time) He wanted to really f*** someone hard. Not literally, but in the common parlance of using the word. So, He caused a huge explosion in the vast nothingness. This was the same explosion that billions of years down the line the humans were going to christen as the Big Bang.

However, that did not interest Him much. It was not too great a pleasure to see the huge particles emerge out of nothing and travel at immense speed in all the directions possible. Particles simply could not be f***ed. He wanted something that could be.

So, He created life.

But lo! He failed again! The life He created turned out to be a very satisfied one. It was simple and it seemed to enjoy its simplicity. Every morning it woke up with the rising sun and every evening when the sun went down the horizon, it went to its dwelling place for a great night sleep. As against His wishes, it turned out to be quite at peace with itself.

Something is lacking. He thought. Something the absence of which allows life to be so full of life. In spite of the big brain that He had, it took Him a full 7 days to realize His mistake.

Then He created the primitive humans; and gave them a bit of brain. The work done, He reclined back peacefully to enjoy the show. He was sure that He had succeeded this time. He even smiled at Himself.

He was right. It was not long before the early humans fell for the trick. One fine morning they decided that they will use whatever little brains they had; and so thinking they decided to come down the trees. Something suggested them that walking on two legs instead of all four will develop their mental faculty at a faster pace.

Ever since then, they are in the process of what they call development. Millions of years have passed since the morning they had decided to start walking on two legs. Till this day, the process of development continues. The life has gone completely out of control, the level of dissatisfaction has increased and there are lesser and lesser resources left with each passing day. These days, instead of walking in the sun and breathing in the open air, they spend their whole life sitting in cramped offices, mostly in front of a stupid looking, very well known electronic device. Even something as basic and as abundantly present as water is not freely and easily available.

As per The Theory of Divine Frustration, there will never be ample number of people who will realize that the ultimate and sole purpose of their existence in the world is to get f***ed by the FSP. If the number of people who see through the game overtakes the number of those who don’t, the very purpose of their existence will be over and the universe will go up in smoke. Interestingly, it further adds that those who understand the game will be more frustrated than those who don’t.

There indeed is a small school of thought, with a highly constricted following, that earnestly believes that the worst mistake their ancestors ever made was to start walking on two legs instead of all the four. 

Those who subscribe to this school happen to be the most frustrated amongst all.

वापस क्यों नहीं आ जाती तुम?

सामान सारे आज भी पड़े हैं
ठीक उसी जगह
जहाँ वो ढाई साल पहले पड़े थे.
बस उनके इस्तेमाल होने का
तरीका है बदल गया.

कम हो गए हैं बर्तन रसोई में; 
और कुकर है कि
ना जाने कितने दिनों से एक कोने में
गुमसुम पड़ा है.

कोई अब नहीं जाता
सुबह सवेरे उठकर बाड़ी में
यह देखने को
कि कितने निम्बू हैं पके हुए
निम्बू के पेड़ में.
या फिर कि वह छोटा पौधा पपीते का
जिसे देखा था कल
एकदम नया-नन्हा सा
वो आज भी ज़िंदा है क्या?

सूख गयी है तुलसी भी तुम्हारी अब तो 
तुम्हारी याद में.

क्या तुम्हें अंदाज़ है जरा भी
कि तुम्हारे जाने से
लावारिस हो गया है एक पूरा संसार? 

माँ -
क्या तुम्हें नहीं लगता कि
तुम्हारा इस कदर
गैर वक़्त चले जाना
नाजायज़ था?

वापस -
क्यों नहीं आ जाती तुम?

Sharing of resources can be real fun.

Clicked these photographs a few days back early in the morning at Powai Lake. These two standard 3 kids - one is Govind, the name of the other one I forgot - were sharing  a swing in the small park at the side of the lake. And they were laughing their hearts out. They seemed to convey the message - Sharing of resources can be real fun. 

Sad, nobody around seemed to understand.

Sadder still, by the time they grow up and are already fed the idea of "good living standards" a million times over, they would themselves have forgotten the simple message they delivered to the world unknowingly that morning. 

The question to be asked is - Can't we start putting concern for the planet at a higher pedestal than our immediate comfort? Is it really too hard to go, for example, car-pooling?  Is it really too hard to start sharing the resources that we have?

I remember ours was one of the first homes in my paternal place Mahnar to have purchased a television set. Those were the days of Ramanand Sagar's Ramayan and a whole lot of village folks gathered every Sunday in our home to watch the magic of Lord Ram unfold on the small screen. With so many people watching, there used to be chaos all around. But still, it was great to watch Ramayan that way. 

Years have passed.

Today I watch movies on my personal laptop; mostly alone. The level of comfort has certainly gone up. But somehow, watching movies alone does not give the same happiness as watching Ramayan with 30 odd people on that small television set gave.

Santa must be a lonely guy.

Winters are long gone and this is not Christmas season. Going by the human standards, this is probably not the right time to remember Santa either. Even then, I would like to remember him now, at a time of the year when everybody seems to have forgotten the big, friendly old man.

Santa, in all probability, is a fictitious character and although I have never read Bible, I am pretty sure he does not find a mention in the Holy Book. He must have developed over a long period of time, mostly by the way of bed-time stories that grandmothers so fondly tell their grandchildren.

Why do I remember him now? I do so because of a guy in my office.

This guy has a weird habit which most of the people fail to understand. Almost everyday, whenever he goes out of the office for a tea break, he brings gifts for his colleagues. Nothing great, but gifts as simple as say 1 Re chewing-gums or 50 paisa Coffee Bites for the people who happen to be  working in his team at that point of time.

People in the office have nick-named him Santa.

He is a small town guy and does not seem to be very much at ease in the office. He is not satisfied with the job that he is doing and very often feels like running back to the small place from where he has come.

I feel out of place in this office; full of people with plastic smiles and cosmetic faces. People who keep talking about the Rs. 15 lakh car that they plan to buy and the costly Hugo Boss perfume that they love to wear. He told one day over a cup of roadside tea that we were having. The guy used to talk little and today he seemed to be in a mood to do so.

Why do you distribute small errands? That is a habit way out of place for an office like this. I asked, sensing an opportunity that he might tell the reason behind his weird habit. 

I have spent almost all my life in a hostel, where we used to share a lot of our resources. The school had a small portable TV and all of us 400 guys used to watch the occasional movie together on that small television set. Sometimes, our hostel warden used to bring small items like samosas or Hajmola. The whole hostel used to stand in a queue and get its share. It was not what you got that mattered. Instead, it was the feeling of companionship. He finished his tea and added. - Present day world seems to have forgotten that sharing of resources can be real fun. 

This is interesting. I thought. But probably not entirely right.

The guy is a fairly lonely one and people seem to remember him only when they feel an urge for their daily dose of chewing-gums or Coffee Bite.

Why does Santa, the real one, the one who comes at the time of Christmas, brings gifts with him?

People go to Church all the year round. The faithful remember Jesus almost all the 365 days and pray to Him for a lot many things. Why then do they remember Santa only once? And then forget him as if he was never there?

Is it because that the gifts that he brings are too small in front of the powers of the God? Is it because while Jesus is supposed to give life, all that Santa has to offer is 'insignificant' chocolates?

Isn't forgetting him as soon as Christmas gets over too materialistic and selfish on the part of the humans? Doesn't Santa understand the parochial nature of the mankind?

Something tells me he does. But still he comes – year after year after year. May be this is his way of beating his loneliness, at least once in a year. With nobody remembering him ever, he must be a lonely guy after all.

The Tiger I Touched and Their Present Day Status.

                                                                      

                                                                            

It has been 13 long years to this incident and to this day I regret not having even a single photograph of it. My father never invested in a camera. He is probably not interested in one, probably not even in the normal day to day use of the equipment.

The day I speak of is one of the most exiting days of my life. After all, it is not every day that one gets to touch a living, fully conscious, grown up tiger. And not many people in the world can claim to have done so, can they? Yes dear, you read it right. I have had the good fortune of getting as close as one can possibly get to one of these magestic animals. And so has been the case with my brother. We did that together.

If I remember it correctly, it was 7th of June, 1997. Just one day back we had come to Patna from Muzaffarpur to board the (very) early morning Danapur-Tata Express, the train we usually took to go to Vidyapith at the end of our one and a half month long vacation. Although she seldom did so, this time Maa had also decided to come along. We were staying put at the place of Munni Bua, and had a full day to kill and not really many places in the town to pay a visit to.

It was at the morning breakfast table that bua suddenly suggested that we must go to the Sanjay Gandhi Jaivik Udyan, the Patna zoo. A few days back, Boski Didi's school had taken her whole batch out for a picnic there. And she had come back with this information regarding a grown up tiger there which could be touched, obviously in the presence of Ram Pyare, the guy who was responsible for taking care of the animal.

So, as soon as our breakfast got over, the four of us - Maa, Papa, myself and my brother - left for the zoo. Bua had decided to stay back as she had some more mundane things to take care of.

Now, as is the case with most of the cities of our generation, Patna zoo happens to be an oasis in an otherwise desert. Full of greenery and an island of tranquility, this is sadly the last and the most open space left in an otherwise over-crowded, tightly packed city.

Once we were in, finding the place of the tiger was not a difficult thing to do. Ram Pyare and his tiger were obviously the hottest news those days on the zoo campus. I remember Googling Ram Pyare out a couple of years down the line when I was in my college, and I was delighted to find an article regarding him in India Today. Sadly, I am not able to find that link now. However, one page concerning him still happens to be on the net and interested readers may go to it by clicking here.

Although I am not an expert in this matter, with its orange skin and black stripes, I am pretty sure the tiger that I am talking about was a Royal Bengal tiger. It was 'kept' in front of the white tiger cage. On its left was another big enclosure with 3-4 similar looking Royal Bengals in it.

The time we reached the place Ram Pyare was not there. Yet, to our utter surprise, the only thing separating the completely unchained tiger (or was it a tigress?) from the visiters to the zoo was an iron fence not more than 2 feet high. If it had so wished, our tiger could have easily jumped the fence and gone for a long, solitary walk anywhere in the zoo, putting the whole system in disarray. Instead, completely oblivious of the onlookers and its eyes tightly shut, all it chose to do was to lie down lazily in the bright early noon sunlight. Oh! What a breathtakingly beautiful sight it was! I have never been to any Wildlife Park in my life and this remains the most free tiger I have ever come across.

After around half an hour, Ram Pyare came along to pay a visit to his tiger. Short, dark skinned and shabbily dressed, he was just like any other person one can ever come across. I and my brother were exited. The ultimate purpose of our visit to the zoo was to touch the tiger, not just to have a look at it and go back home. That we will get a number of chances to do. This was a life time opportunity. We urged our father to talk to Ram Pyare and get us an opportunity to do that. Luckily he obliged. Maa was shit scared, but by the time she could start protesting, Papa had already started talking to Ram Pyare.

The time we were waiting for since morning had arrived.

Once Ram Pyare was inside the fence, he called us to join him. The instruction given to us was simple. We will get a very brief duration to touch the hind legs and the back of the animal and then we will get out fast. While we did so, Ram Pyare was stroking the tiger on its face, sitting comfortably on its side. So, we touched the dream animal on its hind legs. And, my good gracious god, what a soft skin it had! Isn't it surprising for an animal so feared of to have a skin so soft?

While the memory of that day will always be alive with me, sadly it is the tigers themselves who are facing extinction. So much so that in order to publicise the plight of the jungle cat (and obviously to serve its own corporate needs), a mobile company - Aircel - has come up with an advertisement in collaboration with the World Wildlife Fund. I have a television set at home, but I have decided not to have cable connection as I find it to be less entertaining and more irritating. As a result, I have not seen the concerned advertisement till now. I am sure it must be a great ad. But isn't it sad that we the humans have brought the world to such a stage that we need to come out with advertisements in order to help equally important lifeforms survive?

India has already lost all of her Cheetah-s and I am afraid the day is not far when, in spite of all these cosmetic efforts, the country will lose all of its Panthera Tigris population as well. From around 40,000 at the turn of the 20th century to 3,642 in 2002 and 1,411 in 2008; their numbers have come down really fast. It will be a dark day indeed, if it ever comes, when my children will ask me to show a tiger to them and the closest thing that I would be able to do would be to tell them this story of my personal, friendly encounter with one of them.

Panthera Tigris: Going! Going!! .. Thankfully NOT YET Gone Away.                                      

My Name is Neel. N-E-E-L. Neel.

Name?

Neel, Abhishek Neel.

Abhishek WHAT?

Abhishek Neel.

Nil? N-I-L. Nil?

No. Neel. N-E-E-L. Neel.

I almost hear the guy at the other end say – “What sort of name is that? Why Nil? Why not Lal, Pila, Hara, Baingani? Ye bhi koi naam hai?”

This is a situation that I have faced quite a number of times in my life. My first name being probably the most common Indian male name (i.e. if we agree to eliminate the competition from say the Amits and a few others), most people don’t have any problem understanding it. It is the second part, NEEL, which always causes the problem.

When put together, I think my complete name does sound a little weird. I mean how can anyone be named Abhishek Neel? Of all the second names possible, why Neel?

To be on a safer side, I think I should clarify it at the beginning. Although I may sound as if I do not like my name, it is not so. My name is highly unique and I do love its uniqueness. A simple search of “Abhishek Neel” on Facebook throws up only 4 Abhishek Neels. Out of them,  it is only  me who seems to be genuine. The respective figures for Orkut are 12 and 4.

However, I do think it lacks a natural flow that a name should ideally possess. I think my name has an abrupt ending. It ends with a sudden full stop, as if something more was going to follow, but which has been debarred forcefully from doing so.

How did I come to have this name?

Well, at the time of my birth my mother and father were more or less certain that I was going to be a boy. So, they had not even thought of a female name for the baby that was going to arrive shortly.

The name Abhishek was picked up by my mother. My father had thought of Parimal, after the name of my mother Parineeta, which in turn happens to be inspired by the highly celebrated Bengali novel of the same name written by Shri Sharat Chandra Chattopadhyay. Neel was added as the second name by Chhote Dadaji, my grandfather’s younger brother. This Neel actually comes from my father’s name Nil Ratan Baranwal, and hence is not my surname. How this idea came to my dadaji is something I don’t know. The practice of adding father’s name to the name of children is basically a South Indian and Maharashtrian practice, and certainly not a Bihari one.

So, it turns out that while I was close to being named on the name of my mother, I ended up having a name given by my mother and inspired by that of my father. 

Would "Parimal Neel" have been a better name? Probably. It would definitely have carried with it a bit both of my father as well as my mother. But that purpose is served equally well by Abhishek Neel, isn't it?

A few years back (2000 to be more precise); at the time of filling up the Class X Board Examination forms, I was so bothered with the apparent sudden ending of my name that I had almost approached the office of Principal Maharaj to get my name changed to Abhishek Nil Ratan Baranwal. That, I somehow thought, was a more complete name and that it had a smoother flow to it than plain Abhishek Neel. Not only this, it would also somehow have brought me closer to my father, the need for which I am feeling more and more now.

I was born nameless. I have lived 25 years of my life as Abhishek Neel. Would I die the same? Most probably yes, until and unless someday my mind goes completely off-track and I feel an urgent need to break something old and really important. It would definitely be great to break an old concept or an age-old tradition. It would be some sort of a revolt against the human society. And it would definitely be liberating in some sense.

But then as you progress in your life, a time does come when your name almost completely loses its significance. I remember, till very recently the name that I heard the most was my household name. That, of late, I do not hear much. That is, until and unless I happen to be talking with someone from my family, which may be at the max for, say 5-10 minutes on a daily average.

Didn’t someone say, “What’s in a name? A rose will smell as sweet even if it were called by some other name.”? I think someone was certainly right.

----------------------------------

I passed out from Vidyapith in March, 2002. In the summer of 2006, I was in Kolkata to do an internship, when I decided to pay a visit to Belur Math, the global headquarters of the RamaKrishna Math and RamaKrishna Mission and the headquarters of my school. I intended not only to attend the evening Aarti, but also to meet Swami Suhitanandaji.

When I reached his office, I passed in a slip with my name written on it. When I was called in, the first question that he put to me was: “Neel na Lal?” And I shyly replied : “Neel Maharaj.”

The children of till Class VIth standard used to have a nice time in Suhitanandaji’s office in Deoghar. Everyday, in between the bathing time and the lunch time, a number of them used to assemble in his office and go through the really old, black and white photo collections of Vidyapith, while at the same time receiving Eclairs or some other toffee from him.

I also used to turn up there occasionally.

And everyday I turned up, he used to ask me the same question: “Neel na Lal?” to which I used to reply in the same shy manner: “Neel Maharaj.”

Suhitanandaji was the Secretary of Vidyapith till the middle of 1997. Then he was transferred to Belur Math as the organization needed his services in higher positions.

Between then and now, 9 long years had passed. But it seemed as if nothing had changed between us. He was the same person I remembered from my Vidyapith days, as humble and down to earth as always, although a bit older. And I was the same small Class VI student in his eyes. Of a huge 350-strong crowd of students, he still remembered my name.

I was over-joyed.

Was it due to the ancient Bharatiya Gurukula system of education (in which the students must stay with their teachers 24x7x(almost)365) that Vidyapith so diligently follows? Or was it due to the unconditional love and support that both the monastic and the non-monastic members of Vidyapith have always had towards us students?

Or was it due to the uniqueness of my name? And the unique question that he always put to me? 

P.S.: I know the last reason of Swami Suhitanandaji Maharaj remembering me - the uniqueness of my name - is not a very convincing one. When you stay for so long with your Gurus day in and day out, you both tend to remember each other life long. That is one beautiful bond that Vidyapith provides its students with. I am sure, whenever anyone of us visits the school even so many years down the line, almost everyone - and that includes even the guards, the gardeners and the Dining Hall and dairy workers - on campus recognises us and remembers us by our names. That, at least, is still the case with me.  However, I found this the best possible way to end this piece of writing; and so I went for it.