Why I Love Women?

I distinctly remember; it was one of the nights when Mumbai was on fire, 1992-93 riots. I was afraid. Cries of people and blaring sires were deafening, sleep fairy was nowhere close. But what I remember the most is my mother taking me in her arms and caressing me till I felt safe and crawled to sleep.

As per an old saying, elder sister is like a mother turned friend. On the same lines are my relationship with my elder sister. The relationship was not rosy, we used to fight a lot and our war cry was famous in the whole neighbourhood. In spite of our regular duels, she was the one who always knew everything in advance, even before my best of the best friends. I used to confide in her. She was the one I looked up for advice when in dire straits. Same thing happened with my younger sister; only one thing changed, I started thinking about my future. I knew someone looks up to me and yes, it pushed me to work hard, helped me deliver, and her growing up made me feel more and more responsible towards my actions.

My first act of being responsible was coming down to Pune for higher education. I started taking up challenges head on. The first few years passed by in a jiffy and then slowly everything started to fall in place. The only thing I kept missing was a peaceful sleep. My wish was finally answered; an hour of sleep in my girl’s lap was bliss. I felt content as she kept on playing with my locks and I slipped deeper and deeper into slumber. It didn’t last forever, it was never meant to. I woke up to days knowing she wasn’t around, those were the gloomy days. The only light I could embrace was the one coming from my female friends as they freed me from bagages, helping me get back on feet again.

It would be wrong to say that women made me what I am. But yes, they did play a pivotal role in shaping me by scrubbing off the rough edges. Whomsoever it may be, it is difficult for a man to recognize women and their abilities; the male ego never ever gives up. Here I would like to quote Shri Munshi Premchand, ‘Men are the creatures left behind in the evolution of human being, women are a step ahead, and they are complete’. Nothing else can explain more about women’s part in a man’s life than the above quote. Further on, this quote also clarifies a woman never needs a man but a man always seeks a woman in many forms, so as to attain completeness.

I bow my head and thank all the women I ever met and will ever meet. I love you for whatsoever role you played in my life.

या नारी सर्वभूतेषु
शक्ति रूपेण सम्ष्ठिथा
नमस्तेश्वाई नमस्तेश्वाई
नमस्तेश्वाई नमो नमः

-nirjeev

The Blackberry Girl

If you think this is a sexist/strategic take on the TVC 'Blackberry Boys', which somehow forgot to mention/portray 'Corporate Girls', you are surely going to get disappointed.


My 'bb' was giving some trouble to which I had to visit the service centre. Figuring out process, filling forms, getting a token number etc was the unexciting part. But the thing that caught my attention was the behaviour of visitors with the girl at desk. They pulled out their best one liners, charismatic compliments and much more to woo that girl.


The point is that no one intended to take the girl out, not even for a cup of coffee. She was an ordinary looking girl with no specific 'adas'. Only thing she did was smile at the compliments.


Every customer wants prompt service and it's her job to deliver so, but to ensure they get better than the best, buttering and flirting was used amply. In the process, if the girl gets hurt it didn't matter a lot to them.


Don't sigh my friends, she enjoyed it. She may have the 'no second look' looks but she had the sixth sense every girl is blessed with. She enjoyed the attention, being at the centre of stage and commanding.


But somewhere I did find the simple little girl, in the world of big bad wolfs. But when you stay in downtown, you become street smart and indeed she was one.

*Respect 'Blackberry Girl'



- nirjeev
PS - I too asked her out for coffee when she delivered my phone.

नाम

तुम्हारा नाम क्या है?
क्या सिर्फ तुमने मेरा नाम पुछा है??
या फिर तुम इस शक्लसे मज़हब को जोड़ना चाहते हो,
जानना चाहते हो की में किसके आहे सजदा करता हूँ ?
या फिर तुमने यह भी पूछा है की मेरी जगह क्या है,
इस जात-पात की साँप सीडी में तुम ऊपर हो या नीचे ?
क्या यह सवाल भी तुमने किये है ??

सवाल कही मेरे जड़ो की खोज पे आके अटका तो नहीं है,
में देश के कौनसे हिस्से से हूँ?
में तुम्हारी भाषा बोल सकताहु या नहीं?
क्या तेरा मेरा गाँव एक है?
एक सवाल में छुपे यह कितने सवाल है?

जो मैंने चुना नहीं,
जिसका इस्तमाल सबसे कम करता हूँ,
ऐसे तीन शब्दों के लिए,
तुमने कितने सारे सवाल पूछे है?
या फिर यह एक सवाल है.....
-निर्जीव

मेरा भारत आज बहुत परेशान है

मेरा भारत आज बहुत परेशान है
क्यूकी खुदा कुछ ज्यद्याही महेरबान है

जंगले के शेर है पिंजरों में बंध
और नालियों के चूहे पहेलवान है
...मेरा भारत आज बहुत परेशान है

बईमानोको नसीब है जग की सारी सुख सुविधा
इमानदार की नींद महेंगाई से हराम है
...मेरा भारत आज बहुत परेशान है

रैलियों में फिरकर मांगे जाते है वोट
फिर पांच साल तक आराम ही आराम है
...मेरा भारत आज बहुत परेशान है

समाज सेवा के नाम पर भरी जाती है जेबे
और दो वक़्त की रोटी भी कहा मेहनतकस के नाम है
...मेरा भारत आज बहुत परेशान है

अब शायद जागेगा मेरा दोस्त, आम आदमी
क्युकी अब दाव पे लगी भारत की आन है
...मेरा भारत आज बहुत परेशान है
- निर्जीव

पुणेकर हा कोण? का? आणि कशाला?

ह्या प्रश्नांचं उत्तर जर आपल्या लाडक्या पुलंनी दिलं असतं तर खूप आवडलं असतं, पण आता तुमच्या कडे फक्त हा तुटका-फुटका मराठी बोलणारा दिवेश आहे, तर तेवढे सांभाळून घ्या.



ह्या प्रश्नांना आपण शास्त्रीय दृष्टीने सोडवायचा विचार जर केला तर आपल्याला डझनभर पुणेकरांना घेऊन प्रयोगशाळे मध्ये टेस्ट करायला लागेल. त्यात एक नवीन प्रश्न उभा होतो, ही टेस्ट करणार कोण? सगळ्यांना माहित आहे कि जर एखादी जरी चूक झाली तर ते प्राणघातक ठरेल. आणि जर हाच प्रश्न कोणत्याही पुणेकराला विचारला तर ते त्याला पोकळ बाम्बुनी नक्की धुणार.

हा प्रश्न मलाही खूप वेळा पडला, उत्तर कसं शोधायचं यासाठी तर्क-वितर्कहि लावले...पण काही उपयोग नाही आणि म्हणूनच हा निबंध लिहण्याच ठरवलं.

पाच वर्ष झाली तरी शेजार्यांना न ओळखणारा, पण मोक्याचा क्षणी न विचारता मदद करणारा म्हणजे पुणेकर. स्वतःच्या पाचकळ विनोदांवर तोंड फाडून हसणारा आणि न कळलेल्या विनोदाला कमरेच्या खालचा ठरवणारा. आधुनिक वेश-भूशेला टुकार म्हणणारा आणि कोटाच्या खाली धोतर घालून फिरणारा म्हणजे पुणेकर. स्वताची चूक असेल तर त्वरित माफी मागणारा पण दुसऱ्याची चूक असेल तर “मी शेंगा खाल्ल्या नाही आणि मी टरफले उचलणार नाही” असे म्हणणारे लोकमान्य ही पुणेकरच.

पुणेकर म्हणजे... घर आणि दुकाना बाहेर डोक्याला ताप देईल अश्या पाट्या लावणारा आणि कमीत कमी शब्दांमध्ये खूप काही सांगून जाणारा.


पुण्या मध्ये वर्षानुवर्ष रहाणारा तो पुणेकर नाही तर पुणेकर म्हणजे पुणेरी रंगात आणि ढंगात नखशिखात चिंब भिजलेला…

ह्या जगा मध्ये कुठेही राहत असेल तरीही पुणेरी होण्याचा आभिमान असणारा खरा पुणेकर. पुणेरी रंग म्हणजे कोणताहि प्रिंटरच्या गणिता मध्ये न बसणारा……असा आहे पुणेकर आणि पुणेरी रंग





पुणेकर म्हणजे मी... माझ्या मधलं पोक्त झालेला बाळ.



का?... कारण मी रंगलोय पुणेरी रंगात आणि कशाला?... ते कळायला तुम्हाला पुणेकरच व्हायला लागेल आणि एकदा झाले तर तुम्ही असले फालतू प्रश्न विचारणार नाही.


-निर्जीव

ता.क. - वर लिहिलेल्या निबंधावर काही प्रश्न पडल्यास आणि त्याचे उत्तर हवे असल्यास... प्रथम कबूल करा कि तुम्ही मूर्ख आहात...आणि जर हे कबूल केलंच आहे तर हे पण समजून घ्या कि आम्ही मुर्खांनी विचारलेल्या प्रश्नांचे उत्तर देत नाही.

Mr. Right & Miss. Right

She was wearing a white cotton dress and her dupatta was fluttering in air. It was our special spot away from the eyes of kinfolks and police. My head was peacefully resting in her lap and her fingers were playing with my locks. I wished…time comes to stand still. She started humming a song and the tune was so melodious that I fell asleep. After a while I heard a hoarse sound and felt some movement on my legs. I opened my eyes just to hear my roommate snoring and my blanket slipping. Miss. Right visits my dreams atleast twice in a fortnight; she is a simple girl with average looks. I would have loved to describe her more, but it will be too boring for you.

When I came to Pune, loneliness engulfed me and so the search of Miss. Right began. I eventually ended in proposing a girl which I ‘thought’ was my Miss. Right, though the result was negative. I succeeded in learning some important aspects of life from the above failure. After few years, I started liking another girl; this time I stopped the moment I knew I wasn’t her Mr. Right.

Then started the quest for Mr. Right as both gave me the same reason; I am not the Mr. Right for them. I also started thinking more about my Miss. Right, started questioning; what exactly do I need? Because the girls I liked were opposite to what I was and am looking for…
After doing the ground research and asking people, both successful and unsuccessful; I found out…

There is nothing called as Mr. Right and Miss. Right… We tend to fall for the person who we think ‘could be’ or ‘can be’ the Right person for us. But in due course of time we find out few things about the person that irritate us to the extent of our guts. The Right person has attributes that we love and we expect that they remain same forever and he/she also has some defects that we expect to change in due course of time.

Little do we know; that for every good aspect, there is something bad in us and vice versa. So when we change a part of ours then there are going to be changes in the other parts too. Hence some changes come without knocking and those are never expected & accepted.........

Hence the once known as Right suddenly becomes wrong. It is our mind and heart working in a complete mismanagement that first drenches us in the aura of Right and then makes us think again, were we right in choosing our Mr. /Miss. Right?

Our ‘mentellect’ makes us run helter-skelter in the search for the Right person and then the answers when we find out that the Right isn't the Right we were looking for! In the end we come to either of conclusions; there is no such thing as the ‘Right for me’ or we rushed into things when what all we should have done was wait....

I leave you to draw your own conclusions; I will live with mine…

PS: - Thought Seed - Miss. Rakhee Kotak…

સંઘર્ષ - એક ગઝલ

જીવન અને સંઘર્ષ વચ્ચેનો તફાવત ઓછો થતો જાય છે,
સ્યાહીથી લખેલી તકદીર પણ હવે ભુસાતી જાય છે.

ખડક્યા છે મંઝીલની રાહોમાં અનેક ખડકો,
કે નથી ખબર પડતી કે વાટ ક્યારે ફંટાઈ જાય છે.

પેહલી કિરણ થી છેલ્લી કિરણ સુધી બસ ચાલ્યાજ કરું છું,
ઢળે છે સુરજ પણ રોજ આસરો ક્યાં દેખાય છે.

આ મુસાફરીમાં મળે છે કંઈક અવનવા ચહેરાઓ,
જ્યાં લાગ્યું કોઈ પોતાનું ત્યાં તો નકાબ પણ બદલાઈ જાય છે.

મૃગજળ પાછળ ઘણીયે દોટ મૂકી છે મેં 'નિર્જીવ',
પણ એને પામીને પણ મારો સંઘર્ષ ક્યાં ઓછો થાય છે .

-નિર્જીવ