समय की परतों में दूर कहीं
जगमगाते तारे से
रेखाओं और रंगों के परखी
आये और अपनी छटा बिखेर
अचरज भरी आँखों को
नम कर अंतर्धान हो गए |
मैं उन परतों को अब
तुम्हारे रंगों और रेखाओ
विस्मित सी …
उन निशब्द चित्रों की
अथाह भाषा में खो
तुम्हे तो समय ने बांध लिया
पर तुम अपने
हाथों के निशान
इतने करीने से
की समय की बंदिश भी
तुम्हे रोक न सकी
मुझसे बात कहने से |
शायद यही रूह का साथ है
यही रूहानी पहचान है |
It was a summer day . The usual bus ride seemed longer. A torture. When I finally entered the car my head was still spinning over the unfair weather condition . Thoughts raced from global warming to my failings … but yea I wanted to pin it all on the weather.The feeling of discomfort and resentment shone on my sweaty face.
I meticulously engaged in weaving a web of these musings as the sweat slowly dying as the car’s air conditioning took over .
I was still nestling and wrestling these thoughts when I spotted her . On a tight rope . In the summer heat. Her knees bend over and resting on a copper plate balanced on the rope strung between two bamboo poles. Her ankles shining in the heat. Her toes gripping the rope. She held a bamboo stick to embrace her centre of gravity as her head balanced a couple of metal pots stacked one over other.
She slowly rhythmically pushed the plate( her knees were bent on) ahead over the rope. There was music I guess but I was deaf to it. I couldn’t think anymore. She had no expression on her face. I felt she had no face.Just the brown baked skin melting in the merciless heat .
She made me feel insanely rich at the same time robbed me of the luxury to complain ….. and pin everything on the weather.
He stood quietly at the turn of the road . The geeky little bespectacled boy. The white of his glass frames quite prominent . Weak eyed studious little boy. His water bottle hung round his neck and he grabbed it like a heavy medal over his tiny chest. I wondered ,looking at his soft chocolate complexion and gentle demeanour, whether in this competitive bullying world (that is heavily influenced by appearances) this little boy struggled on confidence.
Meanwhile a stray litter-less bitch (white-like snow) strolled aimlessly towards the boy from the other end of the road .
I watched her walk towards the boy .As the personal space of these two unrelated insignificant beings collided something changed . In my prejudice I had expected the boy to fret , frown or shift uneasily as the stray animal neared. However, the boy astonishingly discovered a sudden purpose .He animated spontaneously into a music conductor, as if touched by the charisma of Mark Zubin.
An invisible orchestra played and he stretched out both his hands and waved his fingers and forearms looking at the bitch as if directing her to someplace more meaningful.The silent command was naturally grasped.The stray bitch obeyed with grace and rushed ahead to where the silent music would take her.
To my stunned delight , the boy whose confidence I doubted ended up showing what grandeur he possessed…. through this silent musical act that lasted for a quiet moment .