Part One "Ek Lotey Ki Aatmkatha"

                                                                                               - Kapil Sharma

Aaj jab is andherey kamrey ke ghup andhiyarey mein mei itney kabaad se dhaka, daba aapko apni kahani sunaney ki koshish kar raha hoon tab lagta hai ki yeh kah dena bhar kafi nahin hai ki main ek lota hoon, jo kisi din factory se niklaa tha aur aaj apni upyogita poori karkey apney galaye jaaney ka intzaar kar raha hoon, balki mujhey toh lagta hai ki yeh baat ko galat tareekey se kahna hoga. Lekin zara rukiye, kahani ke is hissey par aap soch rahey hongey, "kya bakwaas hai, kya kiisi lotey ki bhi koi kahani ho sakti hai" lekin sach to yeh hai ki is duniya me har cheez ki koi na koi kahani hoti hi hai, zaroorat hai ek baar thoda sa ruk kar usey dekhney ki, jaananey ki, mahsoos karney ki. Ab sawaal yeh hai ki kya aap is Lotey ki woh kahani sunana chahengey, jo ho sakta hai aapkey liye ek bore masla ho, lekin merey liye to woh zindgi ki kahani hai, aap chahein to isey padh saktey hein, yaa naa padhna chahein to delete bhi kar saktey hain, aapki marzi hai, lekin meri maney to apni zindagi ke kuch pal nikaal kar is lotey ki aap beeti sun lijiye, taaki aap apni is chamakti damakti duniya ka woh veebhatsa chehra dekh sakein jo un pardon ke peechey chupa rahata hai jo har burai ko chupa ke rakhtey hain.

To kahan se shuru karun, us mine se jahan se mera dhatu nikala gaya, ya us factory se jahan meri dhalai hui, yaa dukaan se jahaan mein pahali baar bika tha…

Chaliye shuru karte hai...

Mujhey nahi pata ki main us dukaan mei kaisey pahuncha, bus yun samajh lijiye ki jab meri aankh(agar aap kalpna kar saktey hon ki agar kisi lotey ki aankh hoti to woh kahan hoti) khuli, yaa yun kahiye ki mainey hosh sambhala, to mainey khud ko us dukaan ke sabsey unchey shelf ki saaf, shafaaqu, nayi nakor paint ki hui choti sijagah par aaram se baitha paya, Tab yun lag raha tha ki mai duniya ka sabsey chamakdaar lota hoon, yun merey hi bagal mei kataar baandhey kai lotey baithey they, lekin unmey woh baat kahan thi, meri shining aur mera rutba kuch aur hi tha. Dukaan waala bahut bhala aur safaipasand aadmi tha, har ghantey aadhey ghantey mein ek baar kapda maar kar bartnoh ko chamkaata rahta tha, Khair mai to waisey hi chamakdaar tha, lekin sadak par dhool bahut thi… es desh mei ishwar ka pata nahi par dhool sarv-vyapi hai, suna hai videshon mei aisa nahin hai, wahan dhool, nahi hai, garibi aur berozgaari toh hai, shoshan aur atyachaar bhi hai, lekin woh log bahut chalaak hain aur dhool ki tarah jaldi hi in laanto se bhi nizaat paa lengey, chaliye humey kya, to main kahan tha, haan, main yu dukaan ki chamakdaar shelf par baitha hua tha aur dukaandar baar-baar mujhey saaf kar raha tha.

Haan, merey dil mei dheron armaan they, kabhi main sochta tha ki jo bhi mujhey kharidega main uski zindagi sawaar doonga, usey bharpoor khushi doonga (halaanki aapko yaad dilaney ki zaroorat nahin hai ki main aladin ka chirag nahin lota hoon) toh mere dil mein wahi sab armaan they jo kisi naye nakor lotey ke man mein ho saktey hai, (agar aap kalpna kar saktey hon ki agar kisi lotey ke koi armaan hotey to kya hotey).....oho, main bhoola aap to insaan ho, haan to main kuch  brief sa idea de deta hoon ki mere kya armaan they, mere armaan they ki main duniya ka, chalo woh bahut badi hai, Asia ka, nahi usmey kai desh aisey bhi toh hain jo lota istemaal nahi kartey, south asia ka, jismey se kuch mulk nikaal diye jaayen, jaisey, china, aadi, to us region ka jismey, India, Pakistaan, Bangladesh, Nepaal, Srilanka....etc aatey hain, us region ka sabsey mashoor lota ban jaaun, ab aap soch rahey hongey, bahut mahatwakanshi lota hai, lekin aap hi bataiye, jab yeh desh 14 gold laakar apna naam uncha kar sakta hai, kuch karey naa karey lekin olympic gold ki baabat soch sakta hai to ek lota apni shohrat ka daayra kyun nahi badha sakta. To mera bas yahi armaan tha, jaisa ghalib ne kaha hai, 'Chand taarey tod laun, saari duniya par me chaaun, bas itna saa khwab hai, bas itna saa khwaab hai' kya kaha yah galib ka nahi hai, oof, kaisey kaisey log hotey hain, bataiye, mainey yeh jiskey muh se suna tha woh isey galib ka sher bata raha tha, khair yeh sher merey dil ke armaaan to bata hi deta. Toh main dukaan par baitha "apni" khuli aankon se sapney dekha rha tha ki dukaan ke saamney ek scooter aakar ruka.

Scooter bahut naya nahi tha, waisa hi tha jaisa ki aam middle class gharon mein dekhney ko mil jaata hai, aur scooter ke malik bhi middle class hi they, khair mujhey koi fark nahi padta kyunki, tab tak mujhmey varg chetna nahi thi, to mujhey yah nahi pata tha ki logon ka varg kitna iportant hota hai, woh to jab ek sahab ke ghar pahuncha to wahan aksar vaeg chetna aur varg sangharsh kibaatein hoti rahati thi, tab mujhey pata chala ki varg kya hota hai, par yeh baat to mein aappko aagey bataney wala hoon, abhi to kahani ko jaari rakhtey huye, mei aapko bata raha tha ki, scooter par aaney waley log middle class ke they, mahila thodi nati aur bhari shareer ki thi, purush bhi theek thaak bhari tha, lekin dono ko apney shareer ke bhaaipan par koi eitraaz ho aisa nahi lagta tha. Dono bartno ki us dukaan par lota hi kharidney pahuchey they, to unhoney loton ko lekar bhav tav karna shuru kiya, ek taraf to mera man kar raha tha ki meri taraf dhekha jaye aur doosri taraf mein unkey saath nahi jaana chata tha, mujhey lagata tha ki mujhey to kisi ameer admi ke saath jaana chahiye, lekin jab main yeh sab soch raha tha tabhi dukandaar ne haath badha kar mujhey utha liya aur ek jhatkey se us aadmi ke haath mein de diya. Us aadmi ne bhi mujhey thodi der ulat palat kar dekha aur pir mujhey mahila ke haath mein de diya, halaanki mujhey issy pahaley kisi mahila ne haath mein nahi liya tha lekin fir bhi us mahila ka mujhey is tarah tol mol kar dekhna achcha nahi laga, unhoney dukandaar ke saath bahut molbhaav kiya, ek baar to aisa laga ki woh bina kuch liye hi wahan se chaley jayenge,  lekin akhirkaar unhoney mujhey kharid hi lia. ( mujhey baad me pata chala ki yeh molbhaav karney ka tarika hota hai, ki aap, yani graahaq, dukan chod kar jaata hai, phir palat'ta hai, phir kuch mol bhav karta hai, phir dukaan chodh kar jaata hai, aur aakhir mein, apney bhav par samaan kharidta hai) to jisahab un logo ne, yani scooter waley middle class dampatti ne mujhey kharid liya, pata nahi kitney paisey diye, us waqt to mujhey paisey ka bhi koi hisab kitab pata nahi tha. Aur us aurat ne mujhey bahut berahami se apney jholey mein ghused diya, pahaley to laga ki yeh mein kahan aa gaya, lekin phir apney aas-paas ka zaayza liya to laga ki, muuliyon, aaluon, aur pyaz ke beech mujhey surakshit rakha gaya tha.

Scooter dhad-dhadaatey huye chalney laga aur woh pahala sagar tha jo mujhey pasand aaya, aisa lag raha tha ki jaisey mein kisi hindoley par bithkar bahut tezi se safar kar raha hoon. Aur pahaley chaudi sadak, khuli hawa, phir kuch choti sadak aur kuch band hawa, aur aakhir me ek badboodaar gali mein unka makaan aaya, aur scooter ruka...........

Makan kya tha, do kamarey they jinmey upyogita ka koi vishesh antar nahi tha, kabhi, ek kamara dayein tha, ek bayein tha, ya yun kah lein ki ek kamra aagey tha aur rk kamra peechey ki taraf tha. kuch log is kamrey ko bedroom ki tarah istemaal kartey they to kuch yahi kaam doosrey kamrey me kartey they, lekin gaur karney wali baat yeh hai ki unki aapas ki baat cheet mei unhey ptz hi hota tha ki baat kis kamrey ki ho rahi hai, isliye jab ghar aakar us mahila ne usi berhmi se mujhey jholey ke bahar nikala to apni bahu se kaha, "is lotey ko us kamrey me rakh do" aur uski bahu ne bina kuch sochey samjhey mujhey utha liya aur le jaakar doosrey kamrey mei rakh diya. Aur yahi baat us raat us bahu ke pitney ka kaaran bani.

Asal karan to mujhey baad mein samajh aaya, woh mahila chahti thi ki uski bahu kisi aisey khandaan (yahan ghar padhiyega) se hoti jo uskey ghar ko (yahan do kamrey ka makaan padhiyega) khusyion (yahaan daulat aur gahaney jewar kapdey aadi padhiyega) se bhar deti, kyunki uska beta to laakhon me ek (yahan ausat sharif aadmi) padhiyega. raat ko bada drama hua, khana wana kha ke woh mahila andar aayi, usney lota dekha jo khidkinuma chaukhat ke aaley par rakha hua tha, aur aasmaan sir par utha liya, bahu ko khoob kosa gaya, uskey poorey khandaan me kisi ko tameez nahi hai kaha gaya, aur tabhi mujhey pata chala ki mohalley ke koney par ek amndir hai, aur mujhey roj subah wahan jal chadhaney ke liye kharida gaya hai, aur us (badtameez, kulakshni, saat ghar khau) bahu ne mujhey aisye hi aaley par rakh diya tha, woh to us ghar ke log samajhdaar they ki kisi ne mujhey haath nahi lagaya tha aur meri pavitrta nasht nahi hui thi. Raat ko 2 ghantey tak yah chalta raha, jismey kam se kam 5 baar us mahila ne apni bahu ko suggest kiya ki woh jahar khakar mar jaye taki woh apney betey ki doosri shadi kar sakey aur apna ghar 'khushiyon se bhar sakey'

Pati theek thaak tha, bas maa se kuch bolta nahi tha, aakhir kisi bhi sharif ladkey ko aapni biwi kitarafdaari nahi karni chahiye, mardangi ka yahi usool hai, usey motry taur par apni biwi se koi shikayat nahi thi, bas woh ek achcha ladka tha jo apni maa ka achcha beta bana rehna chahta tha, ismey uska to koi kasoor nahi tha. khair aap meri suniye, doosrey din se shuru hua meri upyogita ka daur, woh mahila 5-5.30 par uthi, mujhey badi berahami se manja, aur mujhmey paani bhar ke mandir ki taraf chal di.

Mandir mein meri upyogita paani chadhana kam aur us mahila ke paas padey rahana zyada thi. Ab aap hi batayein kisi lotey ke liye yeh kitna apmaanjanak mamla hoga ki usey poorey din me sirf ek baar isteymaal kiya jaye aur phir poori pavitrta ke saath upekshit chodh diya jaye. Lekin merey saath yahi hua. Mein har roz subah uthaya jata, gardan pakad kar badi berahami se,poorey kasaipan ke saath mujhey manja jata, itni berahami se ki kai baar to meri chamdi chil jaati thi. aap kabhi us mahila ko mujhey manjtey dekhtey to aaapko lagta ki jaisey koi badla le rahi ho, mujhey ragadtey huey uskey cherey par aisey bhaav hotey they ki agar kabhi galti se kisi lotey ke pair hotey to woh bhaag khada hota.lekin, afsos(huh) ki merey pair nahi they, isliye, roz mujhey manja jata, roz mujme paani bharke mujhey mandir le jaya jaata, aur roz me us mahila ki god me pada rahata, aur uski baatein sunta rahata tha.

Wahan baith kar us mahila ki batein suntey huye aisa lagta tha jaisey us ki bahu se zyada buri aurat is poori duniya mein koi na ho, aur woh mahila mandir mein baith kar itna jooth bolti thi ki lagta tha jaisey mandir naam ki jagah hoti hi buraiyon ka ghar hai. Mainey jitna jhooth, chori, vyabhichaar aur duniya bhar ke tamaam burey kaam mandir mein dekey utney aur kahin nahin dekhey.

Us mahilake saath ek aur mahila thi, jo us ki har baat sunti thi aur gunti thi, woh mahila lagataar isharon isharon mein hi meri pahali malkin ko yeh batati rahati thi ki kaise woh apne 'saput' ki doosri shaadi kar sakti thi. Lekin gadi yahin aakar atak jaati thi ki aajkal ek se zyada shadiyan karney par saza ho jati hai, ( halaanki itney se bhi koi manta nahi hai). ek din hua yeh ki doosri mahila ne pahali mahila ko kaha ki kyun na woh apni bahhu ko maar de, suna aapney, mandir me baithkar woh dono mahilayein yah yojna bana rahi thi ki kis tarah apni grihlaxmi ka katl karkey woh apney betey ki doosri shaadi karwa sakti hain, main itna shock hua ki us aurat ki god se uchal kar neechey jaa gira, kash ki us waqt merey pair hotey to main fauran wahan se bhaag khada hota, meney apney purey jeevan me apney peir na honey ka itna afsos kabhi nahi hua, khair.

Mujhey umeed thi ki woh auratein apney in napaak iradon se baaz aa jayengi, lekin afsos ki isa nahi hua, woh nahi mani, main us moti ke sath roz madir le jaya jaata raha, aur unki saari sazish ka gawah bana raha, kaash ki main us masoom ladki ko bata sakta, kaash usey bacha sakta.

Pahley se hi kisi aur mazboor ladki ke baap se baat karkey sab tai kar liya gaya, phir saajish hui, us ladki ki hatya karney ki.

Mujhey woh raat bilkul saaf taur par yaad hai, us raat me bahut dara hua tha, kyunki mandir me subah hi yeh plan ban chuka tha ki aaj raat bahu ko thikaney laga dena hai, aur raat jab zyada kaali ho gayi thi, tab maa betey ne milkar us bachchi ko daboch liya, baap ne us par mitti ka tel dala aur ma ne aag laga di, ufffffffff, kya dil dahala dene wala drishya tha, main aaj bhi us manjar ke baarey me sochta hoon to mere rongtey khadey ho jaatey hain, woh bachchi kitna tadpi, chikhee chillayi, lekin roz mandir jaakar peepakl mei jal dene wali us aurat ka dil nahi paseeja, ek baar ko to me hi uchal pada, thoda uchalkoood bhi machaya, lekin mujhey daba diya gaya, mujhey daba diya gaya.......

Main kya kahun, ek lotey ka dil ro raha tha, aur teen vahashi hans rahey they, agar mere peir hotey to main tab bhi wahan se bhaag khada hota, lekin main majboor tha, ki main ek lota tha,

Doosri subah jab us masoom ki laash ko jalaney ke liye le jaa rahey they, to doosri aurat ne aankh bacha kar mujhey apney jholey mein daal liya, wahi jisney meri moti malkin ko apni bahu ko marney ki salah di thi usi ne uskey ghar par mauka dekh kar haath safai bhi dikha di, aur me aasmaan se gira khazoor me atka wali tarz par us mahila ke jholey me jaa gira jismey aur bhi samaan pada tha.

Lekin me us aurat ke paas bhi zyada der nahi raha, ho sakta hai iskey peechey meri drid ichchashakti ka bhi haath raha ho, halaanki kisi lotey ki ichcha kya aur shakti kaisi. Lekin meri thi. aur bahut badhiya thi kyunki mujhey us mahila se fauran hi chutkara mil gaya, Churaye huey samaan ka jhola lekar woh mahila kahin jaaney ke liye ek auto par baithi, aur woh kisi red light par ruka to ek uthaigirey ne auto se woh jhola paar kar liya, aur is tarah mujhey lagbhag fauran hi us mahila se chutkaara mil gaya.

To be continued in Part Two....

“THEY SIT AND WAIT FOR THEIR DAILY FORTUNE”

Tahiba Khan

That appealing gaze bounds you to look back again. Eyes speaks the silence of past which creates noise and chaos in mind. Life which has seen decades of trouble and has born the burden of past and still carrying it on...

Sitting on a platter they wait for their daily’s fortune. There is no horoscope for them. No zodiac sign work for them and no stars.

Outside the GTB metro station, sitting in a line with 2 -3 groups with a polythene bag carrying brushes, colors, hammers and trowel…age may vary. There are young and old too. These are daily wage earners. Talking, chatting and waiting for work. Young married at younger age…

With dawn they also arrive there, at their free market and sit till afternoon at the same place. They wait for middleman, tout or contractor. Contractor earns for their labour. They live with their labor… the only private property to them. Here for the workers demands and supply theory works. Demands are more and supply is less, so wages are… demands of these workers show the scale of poverty. These earners live in slums and many are homeless living in streets, roads…platforms etc. They sit to buy themselves as commodity. They didn’t get enough to feed their stomach at the rural landscape, so they are here. Urban space has sorts of demands of these workers. They have migrated into the city because they hadn’t got enough in villages. In villages despite the low wages they have to bear master’s brutal behaviors, and encountered caste violence. They were not paid at time and proper wages are to their work. But due to intensive migration of workers it created lots of competition in the cities too. When I interviewed them I came to know that they are from landless class. These creatures migrated from Bihar, Rajasthan, Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh in search of work. Some are landless laborer some have tiny land in villages. The land that is insufficient to run their households. But due these social, economical, political conditions they were forced to migrate to the cities. The choice they made but not voluntarily. They don’t have BPL card. No Ration card. Instead of providing food for them government harass them. When asked about the government role in their life. They reply in silence. They left their families back at villages. Some got them too for work. They work here too, as maid or workers at construction site. Their daughters and sons don’t go to school. Everyone has story of suffering? Why they are suffering? The religions say it is their Karma which landed them there. They feel no sense of belonging here in urban space. They don’t like their work. The money they get is not enough. If somebody gets ill it becomes harder for them to get any treatment. They either don’t go for check up if go then to a private one. Government hospitals are not easily available. As they don’t have permanent proof, they don’t have any of the cards by the government, they don’t get any subsidies. Life for them is miserable. They live to work again for next day. Their daily wage is 100 or less. Some time they don’t get work and left leisure. Inflation kills them. They can’t spend for bus fares so they walk to their destination. Recent Affidavit by Planning Commission to SUPREME COURT put that individual who earns more than Rs.32 in urban sector and Rs.26 at rural sector is above poverty line. This seems completely farce. These are our ministers who make policies in the name of poor and generate fund. NREGA have came and failed in many states. Rural guarantee scheme came and malfunctioned. Instead of working over roots cause of poverty the government is increasing the BPL. There is a need to understand the root cause of the poverty. Some laws are there but proper implementation of the policies is not visible. Corruption has gripped the entire structure of the country. Structural changes also increased the corruption.

FROM STATE TO RELIGION TO GENDER

Tahiba Khan

Some months back, I visited Kashmir the ‘conflict place’, and more than conflict it is known to people as the heaven on earth because of its elegant geography.

I started my journey all alone, I wanted to know Kashmir. After a tedious discussion with my parents, we somehow reached a positive conclusion and I was on my way. Kashmir was in my thoughts from the time I watched Jashn-e-Azadi the film by SANJAY KAK which introduced me to "The Kashmir".

In a programme organised by teachers and students on killing & disappearing in Kashmir at Delhi School of Economics, over a discussion with Kashmiri writer and student, one Delhi student asserted and said “Pakistan is an artificial country and we will not allow this to happen to Kashmir, so NO Azaadi for them”. Instead apparently the better solution that one day Kashmir will be left with not a single Kashmiri life!

The baggage of all these made my journey possible. Finally, I made up my mind to travel to Kashmir which in any case, would not have been possible if I didn’t have a friend from Kashmir. His parents allowed me to stay in their home even after knowing that I was coming alone. Though they raised questions as to how a girl was coming alone. How could a girl’s parents have allowed this?

I went to TIS HAZAARI to reserve a ticket from SRTC. I approached the ticket counter; it was closed. After waiting for sometime a man entered. He stared at me, the gaze that I resisted, but didn't come onto any conclusion about men from Kashmir in general. After a couple of minutes he asked my name and enquired about me. I told him that I'm a student of Delhi University and going to see Kashmir. Then he provided me the ticket for next to next day and said "lets meet up for dinner tomorrow! I asked why? He read my body language as I hadn't reciprocated." I was thinking, how easy it is for people to say these things if a girl belongs to DU.

And then I reached Srinagar, the hot bed for protest and dissent. Through the way to home I saw army's bunkers, walls on which the graffitis expressing Kashmiri’s protest like GO INDIA GO”, WE WANT FREEDOM has been scrolled. The road was broken, the glasses of the homes and shops were also broken. Many houses were empty. Once open a time Kashmiri Pandits used to live in these houses. They remain empty and nobody has thought of living up there as their Jameer doesn’t allow them to do so. But some bought it from their masters & some had been occupied by the army. Empty and dead houses still remember their inhabitants to look upon…

After spending a night in Srinagar, we left for Barmulla along with his two friends. Throughout the way I saw lots of army camps along the crowded roads. The roads were crowded with army trucks full of Indian Jawans pointing guns at you. My friend warned me not to look at them, which could land us in trouble. I was surprised and felt furious about this. One has to restrain himself/herself even a harmless, plutonic, careless, taken for granted expression of oneself. Leave the other activities. It’s easy to talk about and protest about democracy in other parts where you have choices to do that, though protests at other parts in mainland India are usually ignored by the Indian state and media. Irom sharmila has been protesting for last 11 years against AFSPA, NBA- fought for many years. Instead Indian state doesn’t hesitate to take armed action against tribal people protesting against land acquisitions, nuclear project, looting of resources. Herein Delhi atleast people have a Jantar Mantar to protest.

In Kashmir due to the presence of AFSPA and PSA, Democracy and freedom of thought doesn’t exist or is unthinkable?? Or it exists only for Indian state!! Democracy is NOT for the people of Kashmir but for the Indian state!

Every expression of life is supervised and restricted with the army’s presence.

Next day with my Kashmiri friend, I travelled to Uri, a border area connecting one part of Kashmir to another. One needs a TRP (Temporary Resident Proof), a proof from the authority to travel further. We stayed at friend’s relative’s home in Uri for a night. While discussing over the dinner his uncle told me that he is from the forest department. He shared his experiences. He talked about how the police encounter innocent youngsters or proves them militants for rewards and promotions, how the ones from poor families are more subjected to these. They don’t have money to bribe the police officers. Some people managed to give and escape though for a short period. They can be caught and killed later! Thus increasing the number of ‘disappearing’ and ‘missing’ and the mass graves in graveyard!

While sitting in restaurant for TRP next morning I with two friends encountered something. Something I never thought of. “We became suspects”. Mr. Akram, a local police caught us, and made us suspect on what basis I still suspect. But according to him we were doing some unusual activity as were having tea and two were smoking! He called one of us outside and enquired about me. He talked to him in abusive language and snatched his identity card. Without informing two of us, they took him to a nearby police station. After a while he called the other friend of mine and behaved the same way and did the same. I was wondering that what is going on. Mr. Akram called me in a corner. He asked my name? Again he asked Where from you have come? Why you have come? Who were they? I said they are my friends and we stayed at one of the friend’s relative’s home last night, you can call and ask. He didn’t listen and asked me to come to the police station. After a meeting with the SHO, when we proved ourselves by calling up my friend’s they left us. We had been stopped many times during the way back home. This becomes a part of their life. Oppressive and intimate at the same time!! Many a times, young, old, women being stopped and interrogated by the Army! That was oppressive for me too. That’s why they are protesting…. We left for home.

Over the talk with women I realized that women have been forced to wear a veil, which wasn’t part their tradition earlier-they have now accepted it. Even at their home they cover their head with a Dupatta, and tied their hair. No freedom over self and body even at home….! It’s not about Kashmir only, it is a part of the conservative nature of the families in mainland India too; whether a Muslim or a Hindu family.

While returning after meeting the professor, we boarded a bus. The bus was packed and we were standing, a gentlemen wearing a pant and shirt tapped my back and gave me his seat. I was obliged by his behavior but was cautious about his looks. I was wearing a jeans and long kurta with a dupatta on my shoulder. He sat behind me. After a while he asked “ARE U A MUSLIM?” THOUGH I DIDN’T WANT TO REPLY BUT I REPLIED YES I’M!!(I was fed up of this question, as if religion is the only identity). He said “why you are not having your dupatta on your head”. I replied “mai dupatta sar par nahin leti”. He started scolding me by saying how he could offer seat to such a girl who does not cover her head, that he did a mistake! Then another man stood up and sentenced that I’m not in the domain of Islam. I still question do they are! Does Allah say to behave with a woman in this manner? And they continued abusing me for a long time...

In a short period of time I experienced everything from State repression to religious and sexual harassment, and I think why to fight only against the State, why not against these issues which are equally important!!

औरतें

औरतें रोती जाती हैं, मरद मारते जाते हैं
औरतें रोती हैं, मरद और मारते हैं
औरतें ख़ूब ज़ोर से रोती हैं
मरद इतनी जोर से मारते हैं कि वे मर जाती हैं इतिहास में वह पहली औरत कौन थी जिसे सबसे पहले जलाया गया?
मैं नहीं जानता
लेकिन जो भी रही हो मेरी माँ रही होगी,
मेरी चिंता यह है कि भविष्य में वह आखिरी स्त्री कौन होगी
जिसे सबसे अंत में जलाया जाएगा?
मैं नहीं जानता
लेकिन जो भी होगी मेरी बेटी होगी
और यह मैं नहीं होने दूँगा.

-Vidrohi Ji

मुसलमान

कहते हैं वे विपत्ति की तरह आए
कहते हैं वे प्रदूषण की तरह फैले
वे व्याधि थे

ब्राह्मण कहते थे वे मलेच्छ थे

वे मुसलमान थे

उन्होंने अपने घोड़े सिन्धु में उतारे
और पुकारते रहे हिन्दू! हिन्दू!! हिन्दू!!!

बड़ी जाति को उन्होंने बड़ा नाम दिया
नदी का नाम दिया

वे हर गहरी और अविरल नदी को
पार करना चाहते थे

वे मुसलमान थे लेकिन वे भी
यदि कबीर की समझदारी का सहारा लिया जाए तो
हिन्दुओं की तरह पैदा होते थे

उनके पास बड़ी-बड़ी कहानियाँ थीं
चलने की
ठहरने की
पिटने की
और मृत्यु की

प्रतिपक्षी के ख़ून में घुटनों तक
और अपने ख़ून में कन्धों तक
वे डूबे होते थे
उनकी मुट्ठियों में घोड़ों की लगामें
और म्यानों में सभ्यता के नक्शे होते थे

न! मृत्यु के लिए नहीं
वे मृत्यु के लिए युद्ध नहीं लड़ते थे

वे मुसलमान थे

वे फ़ारस से आए
तूरान से आए
समरकन्द, फ़रग़ना, सीस्तान से आए
तुर्किस्तान से आए

वे बहुत दूर से आए
फिर भी वे पृथ्वी के ही कुछ हिस्सों से आए
वे आए क्योंकि वे आ सकते थे

वे मुसलमान थे

वे मुसलमान थे कि या ख़ुदा उनकी शक्लें
आदमियों से मिलती थीं हूबहूहूबहू

वे महत्त्वपूर्ण अप्रवासी थे
क्योंकि उनके पास दुख की स्मृतियाँ थीं

वे घोड़ों के साथ सोते थेऔर चट्टानों पर वीर्य बिख़ेर देते थे
निर्माण के लिए वे बेचैन थे

वे मुसलमान थे


यदि सच को सच की तरह कहा जा सकता है
तो सच को सच की तरह सुना जाना चाहिए

कि वे प्रायः इस तरह होते थे
कि प्रायः पता ही नहीं लगता था
कि वे मुसलमान थे या नहीं थे

वे मुसलमान थे

वे न होते तो लखनऊ न होता
आधा इलाहाबाद न होता
मेहराबें न होतीं, गुम्बद न होता
आदाब न होता

मीर मक़दूम मोमिन न होतेशबाना न होती

वे न होते तो उपमहाद्वीप के संगीत को सुननेवाला ख़ुसरो न होता
वे न होते तो पूरे देश के गुस्से से बेचैन होनेवाला कबीर न होता
वे न होते तो भारतीय उपमहाद्वीप के दुख को कहनेवाला ग़ालिब न होता

मुसलमान न होते तो अट्ठारह सौ सत्तावन न होता

वे थे तो चचा हसन थे
वे थे तो पतंगों से रंगीन होते आसमान थे
वे मुसलमान थे

वे मुसलमान थे और हिन्दुस्तान में थे
और उनके रिश्तेदार पाकिस्तान में थे

वे सोचते थे कि काश वे एक बार पाकिस्तान जा सकते
वे सोचते थे और सोचकर डरते थे

इमरान ख़ान को देखकर वे ख़ुश होते थे
वे ख़ुश होते थे और ख़ुश होकर डरते थे

वे जितना पी०ए०सी० के सिपाही से डरते थे
उतना ही राम से
वे मुरादाबाद से डरते थे
वे मेरठ से डरते थे
वे भागलपुर से डरते थे
वे अकड़ते थे लेकिन डरते थे

वे पवित्र रंगों से डरते थे
वे अपने मुसलमान होने से डरते थे

वे फ़िलीस्तीनी नहीं थे लेकिन अपने घर को लेकर घर में
देश को लेकर देश में
ख़ुद को लेकर आश्वस्त नहीं थे

वे उखड़ा-उखड़ा राग-द्वेष थे
वे मुसलमान थे

वे कपड़े बुनते थे
वे कपड़े सिलते थे
वे ताले बनाते थे
वे बक्से बनाते थे
उनके श्रम की आवाज़ें
पूरे शहर में गूँजती रहती थीं

वे शहर के बाहर रहते थे

वे मुसलमान थे
लेकिन दमिश्क उनका शहर नहीं था
वे मुसलमान थे
अरब का पैट्रोल उनका नहीं था
वे दज़ला का नहीं यमुना का पानी पीते थे

वे मुसलमान थे

वे मुसलमान थे इसलिए बचके निकलते थे
वे मुसलमान थे इसलिए कुछ कहते थे तो हिचकते थे
देश के ज़्यादातर अख़बार यह कहते थे
कि मुसलमान के कारण ही कर्फ़्यू लगते हैं
कर्फ़्यू लगते थे और एक के बाद दूसरे हादसे की
ख़बरें आती थीं

उनकी औरतें
बिना दहाड़ मारे पछाड़ें खाती थीं
बच्चे दीवारों से चिपके रहते थे
वे मुसलमान थे

वे मुसलमान थे इसलिए
जंग लगे तालों की तरह वे खुलते नहीं थे

वे अगर पाँच बार नमाज़ पढ़ते थे
तो उससे कई गुना ज़्यादा बार
सिर पटकते थे
वे मुसलमान थे

वे पूछना चाहते थे कि इस लालकिले का हम क्या करें
वे पूछना चाहते थे कि इस हुमायूं के मक़बरे का हम क्या करें
हम क्या करें इस मस्जिद का जिसका नाम
कुव्वत-उल-इस्लाम है
इस्लाम की ताक़त है

अदरक की तरह वे बहुत कड़वे थे
वे मुसलमान थे

वे सोचते थे कि कहीं और चले जाएँ
लेकिन नहीं जा सकते थे
वे सोचते थे यहीं रह जाएँ
तो नहीं रह सकते थे
वे आधा जिबह बकरे की तरह तकलीफ़ के झटके महसूस करते थे

वे मुसलमान थे इसलिए
तूफ़ान में फँसे जहाज़ के मुसाफ़िरों की तरह
एक दूसरे को भींचे रहते थे

कुछ लोगों ने यह बहस चलाई थी कि
उन्हें फेंका जाए तो
किस समुद्र में फेंका जाए
बहस यह थी
कि उन्हें धकेला जाए
तो किस पहाड़ से धकेला जाए

वे मुसलमान थे लेकिन वे चींटियाँ नहीं थे
वे मुसलमान थे वे चूजे नहीं थे

सावधान!
सिन्धु के दक्षिण में
सैंकड़ों सालों की नागरिकता के बाद
मिट्टी के ढेले नहीं थे वे

वे चट्टान और ऊन की तरह सच थे
वे सिन्धु और हिन्दुकुश की तरह सच थे
सच को जिस तरह भी समझा जा सकता हो
उस तरह वे सच थे
वे सभ्यता का अनिवार्य नियम थे
वे मुसलमान थे अफ़वाह नहीं थे

वे मुसलमान थे
वे मुसलमान थे
वे मुसलमान थे

-देवी प्रसाद मिश्र