Wednesday, November 3, 2010

जायका मीठे का




बात उन दिनों की है जनाब,
जब हम होते थे हर जशन के साथी|
खुशिओं के हर डाक के संग,
हमारी महक रौनक फैलाती|

पप्पू जब भी पास हुआ था,
शर्मा जी की हुई तरक्की,
इकबाल मियां ने पहली कार खरीदी,
या हुई थी जब मिश्रा जी की शादी पक्की|

जब गूंजी थी वो पहली किलकारी,
जब आँगन में फैला था हर्षौल्लास,
सबका मुह मीठा कराकर ही,
अपनी खुशियों का ज़ाहिर किया था एहसास|

बात उन दिनों की है जनाब,
जब मामूली दिन को हम उत्सव बनाते थे|
हम चखने चखाने में ही लेते थे आनंद,
किलो पाव की गिनती नहीं गिनाते थे|

जब माँ छुपाती थी हमको बच्चों से,
कभी डब्बों में कभी अलमारी के अन्दर,
सूंघ सूंघ के हर कोने पर,
सफल हो ही जाते थे नन्हे धुरंदर|

हमारे जायके के किस्से तो,
हर घर, हर गली में फैले ज़रूर है|
बच्चों के संग संग बड़ों के भी,
ललचाने के पल मशहूर है|

पर अब न जाने क्यों समय बदल चुका है,
पीढ़ियों का ये चक्र अपनी परिक्रमा चल चुका है|
अब मुह मीठा करने की बात पे ये आदम,
चोकोलेट से तुलना में लग चुका है|

कुछ कद्रदान अब भी है हमारे,
जो diabetes से डर कर नहीं बैठ जाते|
दूध संग जलेबी का स्वाद अब भी लेते है,
उसका प्रयोग सीधे होने के मुहावरे तक सीमित नहीं बनाते|

उत्सव के हर अवसर पर,
चांदी का वर्क हमारा गहना बना|
आज बनाने वाले ने ही ख़ुशी में कर दी मिलावट,
तो अब सवालों का उठना तो लाज़मी बना|

खबरों में हमारी चर्चा,
हमारे स्वाद की प्रशंसा में होती भली|
पर अब तो जनाब खबरें भी,
हमारी मिठास में कड़वाहट घोलती चली|

हर कोने से हम सब पर,
आक्रमण के तीर चले|
पर अब भी हमारे कुछ कद्रदान,
हमारी चाह में कई मील चले|

ये व्यथा नहीं उल्लास का समय है,
फिर बंध रहा है खुशियों का रंग|
बीते समय की मीठी यादें बटोरिये,
और सजाइए थाली में मीठे का संग|

घर पर सब मिलकर बनाएं,
या चखे हलवाई के हाथ का कमाल |
बात उन दिनों या इन दिनों की नहीं है जनाब,
ये तो बस संग मौज मनाने का है सवाल |

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

The first curve on the road to El Dorado

“Life becomes a crisp toast if the thoughts are buttered properly”

Thoughts have the pleasure of relishing adventures that we could only wish for. They pack their bags and set on a journey to any corner of the world, enjoy uncanny swashbuckling experiences. They are mavericks in true sense of the word that love to explore things till infinity and beyond. But unfortunately for them, they have a mean step cousin, named concentration which imparts atrocity of dragging them back from their frenzy and incarcerating them in a prison meant to focus only on one thing. But it is actually not as bad as it sounds- the ones who manage to strike a chord between the two end up with the most melodious symphony of life. A college tries to create the same musical rhythm in one’s life so that thoughts and concentration complement each other instead of taking out daggers.


As I sip my coffee early on a Sunday morning looking at nature which tries to flaunt its bloom with all vanity- the birds singing their euphony and sun marching its way up in the sky set out on a mission. The gentle breeze for a change decides not to be a snob and bless everyone by flowing gently. The roads have their few moments of peace before vehicles start their rampage on its ribs. Watching this picturesque setup, I ruminate over my time spent so far at NMIMS doing MBA- the coveted course that I wanted to do since as long as I can remember. Now, that I’m on the hot seat immersed in the process- I’m filled with ambivalence mostly because I hardly get a chance to sit back and cogitate over how the salad days of this journey have been. So let us turn the clocks backwards for a while and rewind to June 2010-


The city of Mumbai-fast, busy, ruthless, cradle of self discovery, passionate, the city that never sleeps are just few of the qualifying words and phrases that adorns this city. At the cost of sounding filmy may I say like any other person, I came with my own aspirations here. When I got down the train, my first reaction was- God! What an avalanche of people. But as they say, love can come from the most unexpected of quarters. Before you get any ideas may I clarify that I didn’t see a curl of hair hiding a beautiful face and then there was the moment of ecstasy. By love, I mean what started as a rude shock became a source of penchant with time.


The first tryst in this new peregrination was the hostel. A new experience altogether for someone who had seen extreme levels of mollycoddling at grandparents place during graduation. At the time of bidding adieu, their concern was as if a camel has been transported from Thar desert to the Arctic Circle. Mom, being the sweetheart that moms are, started with the question about how are the roommates and how is the food. After round 1 of assurance, round 2 of reassurance till round thirty seven of more reassurance, was she satisfied that her poor kid would survive in this tyrannous world.


The scene on the first day of any academic year is a photographer’s delight. The countenance on each face has so many expressions that it would put any actor to shame. One can clearly see the ambivalence of excitement and pride of making it finally to the coveted place, but simultaneously one can see lines on the forehead reflecting the concern of what the journey ahead would hold in store. This concern is of course exacerbated by the induction session where a virtual visual of the journey ahead is run right in front of your eyes and you start thinking- Ahem Ahem, maybe I hurried into my decision. The early rounds of introductions, asking each other for their names and backgrounds and then asking them again because with so many people around you keep forgetting the names. So it may not be an exaggeration if one ends up asking the same person his name 5-6 times (Guys for some strange reason have Chacha Chaudhary’s memory when it comes to remembering girls’ names). One can also see guys trying to create the first mover advantage (marketing concepts can be taught much better outside the classroom) on the fairer sex and of course the girls love all the attention they get.


After the warm welcome, you are introduced to the concept of case study method, which schools of thoughts are still battling over and the breaking of Berlin wall over this still seems like a distant dream. As a student, you are flooded with cases left, right and centre and before you take your guard you find yourself sitting in the arena with 60 more gladiators. Every warrior takes his/her swords out and starts slaughtering everyone else to win “The Great Battle of Class Participation”. Gautam Buddha, Mahatma Gandhi and Nelson Mandela would have fainted at this literal obnoxious slaughtering of their preachings.


The battleground is restricted to the class hours. Apart from that, it is wonderful to find people of different socio cultural backgrounds and experiences coming together and working on different projects. The initial phase for me was certainly a cultural shock when I was made to realize that drinking and smoking has somehow become a normal course of activity in the lives of people. It seems like I have been transported from my archaic world to the new age world in a matter of days. What started as a cultural shock is now alleviating as maybe a way of life. Words such as “smoking networks, delightfully high discussions” have crept their way into the vocabulary and one has to appreciate the fact that you may not do it, but there is no point in secluding yourself from the ones who do.


As coffee is on its way from the cup into my system, the thoughts keep wandering about these few months. There is a sudden rush of thoughts; the pictures coming in front of the eyes with every blink are faster than Rajnikant’s punches to fifty people at the same time. The sun rises further in the sky and I immerse further in my thoughts of flashback.


The first month is completely crazy where you are bombarded with ideas, opinions, viewpoints, the jargons reflective of a college’s tradition (Read: gas). Add to that multiple committees; first you feel that you would choose which one to join, only to realize later that you may not be chosen by any (Eventually one does end up in something). This bombardment of ideas was of course in concatenation with the usual mystery that surrounds accounting, the unimaginable purview of marketing which even fails the phrase that sky is the limit, the micro concepts of economics that even the biologists have declared them as unidentifiable species and the some-foreign-guy-gave-this-model concepts of HR. I think I started off by saying that this is what I wanted to do since as long as I remember. Ahem Ahem, wake up kid.
But to be honest, I won’t be a cynic here playing the devil’s advocate. It is this challenge every day that creates a vivid memory for you to share later. The sleepless nights, the emptying of coffee mugs again and again, racking all your brain nerves to understand and balance the assets and liabilities at least for once, to procrastinate first and then working like maniacs to meet the deadlines of an assignment, sitting with your group with the intent of a project meeting and ending up with tea, vada pav and a sandwich party( of course for some it ends with a certain cult place on the Irla Road- it’s the place that shall not be named but only revered).


One actually gets to feel like the poor pillow which people, for some strange reason, decide to use for a fight and it is being spanked from all quarters. It makes you tough, it makes you help rise to the occasion and if not the above two- it makes you console yourself everytime “It can’t get any worse than this”, only to be proved wrong again the very next day. For me, right from the moment the day starts with the customary music of the lift that every NM student worships even more than the NMIMS Anthem(I hope I’m not getting killed for this), to the time when you just can’t wait to crash into your bed but contain yourself saying that an hour more else the next day might turn catastrophic, each day here is a host to a new chapter of life- it is a tale that I’m sure we would all love to narrate wherever we go in future, it is an anecdote that has exuded spice in bland lifestyles, it is the flavor that would make the dish just about perfect for everyone to relish.


Tom Hanks said in Forest Gump –“Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get next.” Well over the past few months, I have agreed to this statement every single day. You just cannot predict what might come and stop you on your free ride down the expressway. Either one takes it in right spirit and gains the best out of things that come their way or spend their time cribbing over how life has been so cruel. The ones who do the former, needless to say, tread on the path of greatness.


The biggest lesson that NMIMS’s salad days have taught me is that I may not be the most knowledgeable guy, I may not be the most creative, I may not be the most gregarious one either but as long as I can be myself writing cheques that my body can cash and as long as I can hold my own, I have created an apt space for myself. The queen of hearts may be the best bet, but not drawing the queens on diamonds would be completely crazy.


A college is not only an institution where I become knowledgeable or more intelligent, it is the place I become wiser. It is the place where I get into self discovery, it is the place where I decide to face the world with an open mind and heart saying- “Here I am, prepared to take you on. Let the game begin.”
There is a silent hope that comes with every wish that the step cousins- thought and concentration do stay together and after these initial days for me in NMIMS, they are finally finding peace with one another and now becoming agreeable to stay in the same stable. I just hope that peace prevails.


The thoughts decide to set out on a new voyage now and I realize that my cup of coffee is finally empty again. Bother to pour in something?