"Ek Baar Phir" - Guest Post by Sidhant Mago

Ek bench.. park mein bench

Hari ghaans, khadi ghaans

Aage sadak..thodi kadak

Sakht sa waqt

Thandi hawa

Khayalon ki umas ki dawa

Kaise bhool gaya, kohra bhi tha

Ya nahi tha..

Ya mujhe laga ki..tha

Kyun main bench par

Paer ghaans par

Aur hawa ke sahaare

Us dhundhle kohre ke beech se

Meri or ek chehra...

NAHI aaya

Ek ghar..furnished ghar
Rocking chair...aage peechhe
Ek carbon paper

Khamoshiyon ke neeche
Chhapa bhi kya, ehsaas?
Ghadi theek thi, samay par
Khidki par os thi
Ya nahi thi

Ya mujhe laga ki...thi

Kyunki main chair par jhoolta

Chair ghadi ke pendulum si jhoolti

Aur us carbon paper ko hataane

Us khidki se os ko mitaane

Achanak se ek haath...

NAHI aaya

Sewaiyaan thi... mannatein thi

Jannatein thi... namaaz thi

Kuchh haath soch hi rahe thi

Aur kuchh already mil chuke the

Kuchh gale jhuk hi rahe the

Aur kuchh already mil chuke the

Ek masjid... jo door thi

Par yaad hai?

Woh rota hua bachcha?

Woh paas tha

Ya nahi tha

Ya tha

Ya mujhe laga ki...tha

Toh maine bhi wahi kiya

Hasa diya

Par phir un sewaiyon ke saath

Woh gala aur woh haath

Us bachche ko hasaate

Eid aayi... par mera yaar

NAHI aaya

About the author - 

Sidhant Mago is known to the world as Shanky, and to me, he is known as one of the best persons to

have ever stepped on this planet. And I mean it. He is one of those people whose company guarantees unlimited laughter, for humour is his forte. More often than not, you'll be taken by surprise at the kind of wit his very general comments contain. However, the thing about him which impresses me most are his perspectives - on life, on love, on friends, on society - and on every other conceivable thing. Within him is contained an inexhaustible reservoir of creativity, which has many, varied manifestations  - mostly funny, non-serious stuff, or what he proudly calls 'cheap humour'. But then, there is this side to Shanky's creativity too, reproduced here with his permission. And what better day than today to share this poem, which takes one to the melancholy behind a celebratory day.

To all reading this, Eid Mubarak!

And special wishes for Aaqib Raza Khan, whose beautiful photographs have adorned my blog-posts time and again. 

This one falls among my favourite of ARK clicks.

That Chocolaty After-taste

Dear PACH,

You have completely taken over my blog. Which should be fine, because in essence, you have actually taken over my life. You're grand, so grand that I am scared of sending a lot of letters to you. What if they get lost in your fan-mail? Are you promising me to hold them special, each word I write to you? Thanks. And I know you make the same promise to each name which associates itself with you. For all this warmth you show to a growing tribe of urban poets, I am proud of you. So proud.

The PACH #8 Invited - crafted by Aastha di and Sidhant Mago. 

A level up, each time. I am not even going to ask you now how you manage it. Lets both take it as a given. Lets also be clear that all this love that we have towards each other will stay, will grow and will spread to more hearts. Yes, more of those loving hearts connected with us last time - in manners so unique and new and pristine. Who would've known that PACH family would expand to over 50 members, all so soon! Its so incredible its crazy. But then, you're bored of this adjective, aren't you? Positively insane, lets adopt this for today.

Thats not all of us, but most of us. 

You're growing rich with all these emotions, dear PACH. Can you tell me how to handle them all at once? I mean, how do you react when a little, vivacious girl opens her heart to romance and its naughtiness with an understanding of relationships which leaves us flabbergasted? It was a Sunday she dedicated romance to, and it was a Sunday she made special for all of us staring at her with an open mouth, refusing to come out of the influence of those coveted love-filled moments. Mago said there are some poems you hear, and immediately wish you had written them. That silly little girl, Aavika, precisely turned out such a gem. At her age, how? And this 'how' will remain.

That cute, little show-stealer.

My twin came along a little late this time, to recite the verses which were her first. Do you remember PACH, this was the same girl who had gone on record saying that she cannot at all compose a poem, and hence even tried to stay away from you. But you, you managed to permeate to her creative inside, in which resided a poet who could give expression to both, love and angst. She shared them both with you, PACH. In that sense, you are lucky.

She is pretty, she is my twin, and the chain goes on...

Our latest tryst with you happened at the most pleasing and apt spot - the Kunzum Travel Cafe, that fabled place in Delhi which allows you to pay as much as you like for the lovely coffee, cookies and aromas they serve. Lets both admit, you and me, that Kunzum has been one of the best places we have met each other, and a host of other poets. Some things about you don't change, which are definitively looked forward to. One such thing is Mago's humour, which manifested in a poem we managed to sing along. His understanding and insight into feminine preoccupations is so perfect, that it leaves us in splits. Another such regular feature with you is a certain duet poetry performance, which leaves some hearts amazed, and yet more craving. These are the masters of poetry-dom. They rule over it with verses which are impossible to concoct, but effortless to connect with.

At the lovely Kunzum Travel Cafe - thankful to them for entertaining us at such short notice and tolerating us for such long hours. 

And then, there were these innumerable moments which I am living, reliving and enjoying each time I picture them on my memory-scape. Who do I share them with, if not you? Do you remember that song, 'Happiness'? Its one of those PACH moments I  which I tug onto with full force lest the melody and the message desert me. Lets not comment on the philosophy and ecstasy of Abhishek sir's contribution to PACH. Lets just gently savour the fact that a certain new addition has been made to the way you go about, and lets both fervently hope this guitar tradition continues. Talking of additions, how can you miss out on Aastha di's dialogue with God, which began at your seventh instalment, and attained culmination in the eighth. Her nervous excitement, and the care with which words tumbled out of her lips - don't you feel ridiculously special when people share such intimate, new aspects of their life with you? You must. Feel special, and stay innocent. Pretty please, always.

"Lay's ka packet hai, Happiness!"

Aastha di, with all her nervous excitement

Poets with round-rimmed glasses come and share their farewell musings with you and start crying on their own verses as well as those of others. I am, of course, talking of Sudhanshu. I have to admit, that his mention has an ulterior motive - it is to let you know a certain compliment he gave you behind your back. In his words, PACH, you are that which scratches old wounds, but then, you also heal them, you cause such tears to flow which carry negativity out, which purge some and comfort others. You don't just make us share tears and painful pasts, you also encourage dialogues on forms of poetry, 'Ghazals' being the subject of discussion the last time around. Aditya and Rohini shared some wonderful ghazals, and I was unfortunate to have missed out the latter's recitation. I also missed experimentation with Bangla poetry, but I am not sad. I know you will help me make up for it. Oh, by the way, you still have fan-poets like Nabila and Mukul who had you as their muse. Blushing, or growing vain? The former, I know.

Getting ready for a masterpiece to come our way. 

When we listen to those amazing lines. 

Among those many that thank you for reviving the creative spirit in them, I think Navin ji stands right in the front. Not only does he write the most amazing lines, but the way he recites them makes each listener's heart grow fonder. He said something about being unimaginably busy and yet wanting to share useless details with that one good friend, that loving presence. You know, this is a routine I follow, which he set in such beautiful words. For you, PACH, Navin ji does one more fabulous thing. He creates doodles as finely crafted memories from each session. You're lucky people spend time after you - drawing sketches, making posters, editing pictures - all because they want to do it, not because you ask them to. Again, when did you become so special to all of them? Kamal, Aaqib, Gaurav - they all are the fabulous people who help preserve your most special moments in exquisite frames. They should be given a nice chocolate next time, what say? Not out of my quota, of course!

The PACH #8 doodle. 

From realization of eradication of small pox, to a man traversing through life; from thirteen dimensions bestowed on a pillow to fascination with unrequited love; from meeting old familiar faces, to entertaining complete strangers for an entire day; from remembering Shail Chaturvedi to encouraging some unbelievable creative spirits; from verses written by ailing dads to poems sent by members living overseas - aren't you perplexed by the amount and the diversity you are able to subsume within yourself and yet be ready for more? I mean, you're still dreaming of those dizzying peaks which we all have to ascend to, right? I'll be there with you throughout, its a promise I don't even need to be consciously aware of. Meeting you was like falling in love. As days go by, I feel I am growing in love and also growing up in love - don't you feel the same?

Dobara, Chal Gayi!

Do you remember, I had claimed once that I already have my favourite PACH decided, while you were still in your nascent days? Well, that just changed. This one became very special. Not just for what I witnessed, but for the way I participated too. Rahul said that you can know more about a person through his poetry than anything else. I think I agree. You help me connect with myself too, in moments when I write those stoic paeans of love, or those dirges of what has remained in place of what could have been. You allow me to share all that heavy load with so many beautiful people. Few become pensive, few others shed tears. I maintain, shedding tears is good, it lets out so much of negativity. And then, the best thing, the realization that we share with each other because we trust each other. We love each other, of course, but trust - more important, for me. Not only during, but also before and after your six-hour-long stay, I had moments I am keeping with myself. Looking forward to you, and looking back at you. There is all this love I feel, that just stays. 

All set to recite.

Warmth. As the first signs of winters start raising their shy heads in our city, I am feeling this splendid glow from inside, this warmth, which refuses to go. It all seems normal, natural now. But I will never forget how if I step back and see it all, it seems like magic. People are going crazy after you just by hearing about you. Lets hope they all come to meet you the next time. Lets hope they too become a part of this magic you are casting on sleepy poets of the world. 

The colours I am gifted with. The moods too. 

I did not eat any chocolate this time while you were on, but I can feel the satisfaction of having gobbled up an entire Bournville, Cranberry flavoured, alone, which I earned, of course!

Just outside your nascent days.
Still revelling in your magical ways.
Living your memories like a sweet, chocolaty after-taste.

PS - What is also astonishing are all these bonds which have formed between all of us. I found a comforting elder sister here. Many others call PACH their family. And a family celebrates the happiness of its members. We celebrated the birthday of Aaqib and Pratibha this time, trying to make them feel special by some mad, last minute efforts. PACH, and all those who make it send them their best. We're all going to grow up together, right? 

Chhupana Seekh Liya

Kal raat, os giri thi mere aangan mein

Shabnam mein dubki  lagaaye maano gulaab jagmaga raha tha

Nange paaon baithi rahi, use takti rahi

Woh khush tha, ya boondon ke peechhe akelapan chhupa raha tha?

Kal subah uthte hi, tumhe nahi sataaoongi

Yeh khayaal jo adhpake se hain, tumhe nahi bataaoongi

Laal rang ko andhere se ladte jo dekh liya

Khush hoon, ki ab maine chhupana seekh liya

Phir kasa hua man aur aawara kadam

Bistar ki or nikal pade khud hi, narmi ki lalsa liye

Wahaan bikhre kambal ke jagah

Parchhai dikhi tumhari, aur ekaa-ek kadam rok diye

Jaao, kambal tumhara, tumhari neend bhi zaroori

Main simat jaati hoon zameen par, chhod baatein adhoori

Parchhai se na aankhon ko na baaton ko, bas ehsaas ko jod diya

Maun man, aankhein nam, aur maine chhupana seekh liya

Subah laga, baadal the shayad baahar

Akdi, pareshaan kamar ko sambhala, bhari ek sust angdaai

Kohra mila phir kamre ke hi andar

Dar toh laga tha meetha sa, par tumhe samjhaane se katraai

Ab subah ki kadvi coffee  mein apne raaz ghol deti hoon

Man khatta hai zara, yeh cheeni se bol deti hoon

 Raat ke khwab, subah ke khayal, din-din ghat-ti hichkiyaan,

Meri hain, tumhari kyun? Ab maine chhupanna jo seekh liya

Veeran nahi hai sheher mera

Yahaan gham aur khushi ke mele bunte hain kai kahaani

Palon ki ginti rukti hai kya bhala?

Baatein banti rehti hain, tum ehem samjho ya bemaani

Pichhle roz maine, bhoori chidiya ko sataya tha

Us-se pichhle din, kuchh gehnon pe dil aaya tha

Kisi bhoole-pehchaane shaqs se baazar mein takra gayi

Bachpan ke kisse chale, jinko sunke hasi aa gayi

Akela kala gulaab, do hazaar ka bikta hai

Aur ek mera laal hai, jo ab khaas nahi dikhta hai

Pados wali aunty ki hasi, daayan ko dara de

Par hathon mein swaad aisa, ki roothe ko mana de

Namak sahi nahi ho, toh khaane se kudh jaati hoon

Par ek dost hai meri, jis se namakdaani chhupaati hoon

Kaam mein kuchh uljhi aise, ki dino-din qalam nahi uthaya

Aur diary jab ainthi, toh use choom ke bagal mein sulaya

Yeh chhoti chhoti baatein, yeh toote se kisse

Chhupa bhi loon, par hain toh zindagi ke hisse

Tum bhi ab kisson mein ho, waqt ne yeh tohfa diya

Tumhare kisse tumse kya, ab khud se chhupana seekh liya

This gem by Afremov is called 'Expectations of Love' - now, how interesting! 

PS - 

Ankahe ehsaas laal os mein pighal gaye

Ik atki si soch hai, woh batana chahti hoon

Ki jo baat tumse na kahi

Ab khud bhi bhool jaati hoon. 

Daastaan... Adhoori si

 Chand nikla nahi tha shayad us raat

Par sitaaron ki chamak saath chal rahi thi

Kya hum ja sakte hain wahaan dobara?

Woh baat sun-ne ko jab dhadkan machal rahi thi?

Chaand keh kar pukara tha tumne mujhe

Tab halki si muskaan mein sharm sama gayi thi

“Pagal” kehkar matha thapthapaya tha mera

Kyun? Kya main woh ehsaas tum mein jaga gayi thi?

Amavas ko dhang se na samajh paaoon

So tumne chand se muqabla kar diya mera

Khush thi ki roshni ban gayi hoon tumhari

Par yeh bhi yaad ki chaand samete hai andhera

Poori qaaynaat par noor chhalkata, phir chhupata

Woh ek raaz, ek aas, ek aarzu, ek gumshuda chehra

Tum padh nahi paaye mere khamosh andhere

Ab dushmani kar baitha hai zindagi se savera

Thake kandhe par sar, haath mein tumhara haath

Main chali ja rahi thi machalti chahat ko dabaye

Sard raat thi, laal shawl ke neeche dil thithur raha tha

Par yaad is kambakht ko tab bhi tumhari saanson ki garmaahat aaye

Tumne hi kaha tha, thandi hawa pyaar ko bhadkaati hai

“Paas raho, ab chhoti si doori bhi sataaye”

Tabse kitni sardiyaan, ya kahoon sadiyaan beet gayi hain

Thandak phir badan ko choom ke gayi, par tum toh na aaye

Saal bhar mein se bas sardiyaan yaad reh jaati hain ab

Aksar tumhari baaton ki chaadar ke peechhe chhup jaati hoon

Na bebas hoon, na badgumaan, na pyaar kam hua hai mera

Main toh mushkil yaadon ki bhi dhun bana, usse gungunaati hoon

Dua ki chaukhat pe baithe dekha hoga tumne mujhe

Andar jhaank ke, main waapas bhaag aati hoon

Sochti hoon ki pyaar maang, tumhe chheen kar le aaoongi

Par wahaan tumhara aks dekh, tumhari khushi ke liye lalchaati hoon

Meri baatein, meri kahaaniyaan yaad hain tumhe?

Sunte-sunte tum aksar thak jaate the

Kabhi hans padte, toh kabhi tok dete, kabhi na samajhte

Baaton ke matlab musalsal, sirf lafz badal jaate the

Suno, azeem lafzon ki riyaasaton ke beech dekhna

Wahin kuchh chhote gaaon hain jinme maayne samaate the

Saath chal rahi, tum kaise meri aankhein padh paate?

Un dono mein hi toh raat ke bewatan kisse timtimaate the.

Woh raat chali nahi wahaan se, waqt mein tham si gayi  hai

Woh daastaan bhi badhi nahi aage, kaali syahi mein jam gayi hai

Waqt jo kilkaariyaan marta, gudgudee karta

Waqt, woh aansu chhupata, siskiyaan dabata

Waqt jo waqt jaisa nahi tha

Waqt, jo par lagaaye khada tha

Jise yaad kar, muskuraate ho tum abhi 

Jise bhool aaye usi raaste, usi raat kahin

Postscript

Aansu behte hain kabhi kabhi

Par muskaan honthon pe tik gayi hai

Tum mujhe apni kahaani toh poori suna gaye

Humaari daastaan magar adhoori reh gayi hai

I could not have found a better artist than Afremov, yet again, to express in pictures what I have attempted to in words. When I recited the above poem in front of my classmates at college, one of them said in a tone of surprise, "Saumya, you are really romantic at heart!", and I was left scratching my head, wondering, how did she miss that! Another friend who heard it said that to have written all this, I MUST have felt an intense amount of love. I prevaricated, but smiled to myself. In my reckoning 'intense amount of love' is a euphemism of sorts. Adding figments of fiction to life is fun, but it also sometimes makes a spark into a conflagration. Building castles of love is not the most advisable thing to do, but hey, its a risk worth taking. I'll end the nonsense here. 

This is my first genuine attempt in Hindi. PACH made me do this. That same crazy, magical PACH. 

PACHyatra - to Sapera Basti, Mandi Village

Dear PACH

In my last two letters, there is much that I have told you - about you, about me and about us. All of us. However, while glancing through them again today, I realized, I left so much unsaid. You know what, lets just summarize it in two words again - Crazy and Magic. Yes. That is what I have come to understand you as. After our last tryst, I am further convinced that you are capable of doing magic, and that too in a manner which is unanticipated and plain crazy. Yes, so while you are going crazy with excited disarray in your head, people still call you organized. Fun? May be. Humbling? Sure!

I did have an idea, but I could never have created a complete image of the place where I met you this time. You took us on a trip, literally and otherwise. Had it not been for you, I would never have known that somewhere, at the end of winding roads which are like modest boulevards lined with grandiose farmhouses, there exists a village of one-time snake charmers, which does no justice to the exotic image of India which the Occident created. Given animal rights regulations, most of these villagers could not take up their familial occupation, and many had to resort to odd jobs, or contend with being jobless, yet survive. In this Basti of Saperas, we met some little faces in whose world we got lost for hours. Not some, a lot of faces, different expressions characterizing different faces - innocent, naughty, sincere, curious, sulky, blank, eager, reserved, distant; and then, I think I saw some nastiness, and some awe as well in those faces. I am sure that the young ones of the entire village had assembled with us after a point - the point at which we stopped trying to ascertain what number of children are we trying to involve in our creative session.

Meeting Elizabeth and Shibumon - the minds behind Bharat Seva Samity - was an experience I was wanting to have, and needed to have. Their story is both, lovely and inspiring. So yes, PACH, thank you for making it happen. What I need to thank you more for is the kind of amazing day you gave us, in which, my friends and I, and the little kids we had just met, left nothing unexplored in the realm of creative arts. We made the kids dance, sing, draw, recite rhymes, share ambitions, and do just about anything that made them feel happy, and open, and confident. Did you notice the bright smiles on their faces? I know you did, but perhaps you were too tired to sit back and savour all the magic you spread. Still, what you should know is, halfway through the session, a child wanted to know if we were going to come back and do all the masti with them again. I don't know about you, but I was too touched to be able to answer it.

I have many favourite moments from the day, and I think I should take out some best frames to show those to the world reading this letter along with you. So yes, here.

That is my friend Neha. Umm, twin Neha. Till about a month ago, she would need a push to share her lovingly written stories with us, and this day, she confidently places herself in the middle of all the kids to narrate a story about her favourite being in the world - her pet dog, Chintu. Kids talked about their pets as well, and I stood somewhere, really happy to know, that her stories, written keeping children in mind, are now finally reaching their destination. 

Don't see these two for what they seem like. They are generally known as Anup Bishnoi and Sidhant Mago, but here they are Chintu doggy and Dolly baby, characters straight out of Neha's story, performing antics and enthralling children. Forget children, I caught myself bursting with laughs. Yes, bursting is a good word here. 

Thats Nabila Sadiq, the sincere one among us to have carried an original poem to share with and teach kids. More than the poem, what she aspired to tell this young crowd was that its important to dream, and so dream, they must. Along with her, it was only Shrutiy Chakraborty who got a poem customized for this very special gathering, but once lost in the world of kids, forgot to share. I think PACH feels bad, and has its ears perked up for a reading among an audience which is slightly elder, but only in years. 

Though I am not sure what exactly is happening here, I can take a guess. In this setting which reminded us constantly of Sholay ('Solay', as echoed), the famous 'Kitne Aadmi The' dialogue is being played out. Popular culture works so well to engross and amuse everyone! I loved this rock, and secretly hoped that I would get to climb up and settle there. But my back. Bah. 

This picture was clicked on request - I requested this star kid to pose with me, because I like to remember good singers.  And Ankit, for that is his name, is sulking because I made him stop drawing his red car under blue clouds for this click. He sang a romantic bollywood number with confidence and innocence which only someone of his age is capable of combining. 

This tiny tot, whose name I do not remember (Jatin, may be?) troubled me the most. However, I think I made good friends with him at the end of it all. 

The laughter he spread was so contagious and effective, it was only obvious that Sidhant Mago would end up being a huge hit among all the children. The caricature a child attempted to draw of him (successfully, of course) is only a proof of what kind of love all of us received at Sapera Basti. 

Among the many rhymes we taught them, I think we did this the best. Chubby Cheeks, acting out the Dimple Chin here. What an amazing feeling it was to hear these simple, childhood words being echoed all around us in a cacophonous chorus. I have no idea when I last did this, acting out rhymes. Its good, I've done some practice before I have kids of my own. Aah, I'll try and keep my focus. 

This girl wants to go to Mumbai when she grows up - her ambition quite evident in this picture. Like all, I too was pleasantly surprised when all this talent was unleashed on us by these incredible packets of energy. 

These pretty packets were put together with much love by some resourceful PACH members, and, more importantly, enthusiastically decorated by the tiny students of Crayons and Strokes - art school run by Aastha Seth, who is the creative genius behind all the unbelievably amazing posters which announce our fortnightly poetry sessions. Isn't it a wonderful thought, that little kids from one part of our city spent a day making colourful stuff for little kids located on the fringes of our city? Fascinating, for me at least. 

This is where the madness of drawing and colouring finally started. Calling it madness is an understatement. But I know each one of us enjoyed it, most of all, Aastha di, I guess. You can see her in the back, getting ready to manage her set of learners, while Anup settles right in the middle to spend a fun and harrowing time among all these fans he cultivated. 

Why am I the crazy, laughing woman in the picture? Because a very composed and bright girl named Pooja wrote a rhyme for me, and made it pretty with all these colours and a rose. When you go along with PACH, and return with a poem as a gift, it feels as if all the pieces have fit in perfectly. 

Applauses. This is what we gave them in copious quantities. We gave a lot of love too, but then, they gave more of it back. 

So, coming back to you PACH, tell me, how do you actually lead us to such 'scintillating' highs? No, how? Those who witness the day said that this party-like class was the best they had attended. Here, this is what Duolos Jose (he, of course, the person who made this event possible) had to say about what we accomplished on Sunday, and you must hear - 

"It was the longest event in this basti, they usually get bored fast (even when I show them movies)! Your interactions (mixed with fun) had a great impact which held them back for hours. Also, I never knew that some of the kids could dance and sing so well.. even paint so well. Hopefully, an artist shall emerge from that slum some day."

So, there. I am actually short of breath as all these musings come to an end. There is one, tiny memory which lingers on. When we asked the kids - "Aap bade hokar kya ban-na chahte ho?", a boy of about 8-9 replied, "Padhe-likhe". Just that. That simple, yet not.

May be I will come back here someday.

Crazy, again.
You're all of two months, and though you are growing at an alarming rate, these are still your nascent days.
And you're just not ceasing from showing us your magical ways.

PS - You can read about Bharat Seva Samity, and Elizabeth and Shibumon here - http://www.bharatsevasamity.org/index.html

Thanks Aaqib, Navin ji and Aastha di for the wonderful pictures. How will we ever relive PACH moments if not for you all. Thanks Archana and DJ for making this happen.

I loved quoting a particular verse (half of it, perhaps) in my school days. I  don't know the poet, but I am taking the liberty of reproducing it here, hoping that in some way it applies to all those kids we met on Sunday.

"Hum toh dariya hain, humein apna hunar maaloom hai

Jis taraf bhi chal padenge, raasta ho jayega"

Among my favourite pictures from that day.