उद्योग

            माथे पर झिलमिलाता सूरज धीरे-धीरे सरकते हुए धारा में धूमिल हो रहा था. ये बूँदें इस बात की द्योतक नहीं थीं कि परिश्रम उन बूँदों के अस्तित्व का कारण था. मन का उन्माद इन बूँदों की उत्पत्ति  का  वजह था. अशांत शरीर ही नहीं, अशांत मन भी शरीर को पसीने से भिंगो देता है. जहाँ प्रकाश से आसपास की हर वस्तु एकदम स्पष्ट दिखाई दे रही थी, वहीँ मन में आशा की किरण एकदम विलुप्त थी. भृकुटियाँ भी बोझिल थीं और मानों माथे से गिरी जा रही थीं.  नेत्र देख तो रहे, किन्तु कुछ भी दृष्टिगोचर नहीं हो रहा था. भुजाओं में ये कैसा कम्पन है! वो मांसपेशियाँ जो कभी आतुर थीं पौरुष और पुरुषार्थ की, वो एकदम शिथिल क्यों हैं?

          किसी विषय पर शंकित होना, यह मनुष्य जाति  के कौतुहल और वैज्ञानिक मानसिकता का प्रतीक है, किन्तु  यह शंका जब स्वयं की पराकाष्ठा का माप हो जाय तो वह पतन की ध्वनि है. बार-बार यही विचार मन को आन्दोलित कर रहा था -- ``यह कैसे हो पायेगा मुझसे, क्या होगा उन नागरिकों का जो इतने वर्षों से प्रतीक्षा कर रहे हैं? क्या होगा उन माताओं का जो अपने पुत्रों के लौटने की राह देख रही हैं? क्या मैं उनके दुःख का कारण बनूँगा? क्या उत्तर होगा मेरे पास जब लौटने पर मुझसे प्रश्न किया जायेगा. जिनके स्नेह और विश्वास ही मेरे अस्तित्व का कारण है, उन्हें कैसे निराश करूँगा?”

          जब मन  में ऐसे प्रश्नों का झंझावात आता है तो मानों हर तरफ बस आशंका की बर्फ गिरती दिखाई देती है. चाहे जितना भी प्रयास कर लो आगे देखने का, कुछ भी दृष्टिगोचर नहीं होता. हर एक प्रयास विफल हो जाता है और मन निराशा की खाई में बहुत वेग से अन्धकार में गिरने लगता है. यही स्थिति थी उनकी.

          दृष्टि भूमि पर गड़ी थी और मस्तिष्क में कोई उपाय सूझ नहीं रहा था. श्वास की नली मानों हर सांस पर संकुचित हो रही थी. हुँकार के स्थान पर बस विवशता और पीड़ा के कुछ शब्द होठों को खरोंच रहे थे.  उन शब्दों की कोई स्थापित परिभाषा नहीं थी, वो बस भ्रमित मन के भटकते विचारों के विस्फोट थे.

          तभी किसी कारण उन्होंनेअपना मुख प्रभु की नगरी की तरफ मोड़ा और सूर्य की गर्मी ने एकाएक एक विचार प्रस्फुटित किया -- ``अरे! उस स्थान पर तो अभी मैंने ढूंढा ही नहीं .” शरीर में फिर से कंपन हुआ किन्तु यह कंपन अलग था. आशा की ऊर्जा निराशा की बर्फ पिघला रही थी – जैसे उनकी भुजाओं ने उन्हें ही चुनौती दी और साथ में एक उलाहना भी. मानों कहा – जागो, उठो, गिरो किन्तु फिर उठो.” एक एक कदम एक एक योजन की दूरी नाप रहे थे. कुछ ही समय में वाटिका दिखाई दी. ममता और करुणा से पूर्ण एक प्रश्न कौंधा – ``कौन?”

``माते! मैं हनुमान.”

 

प्र्याण

शरीर शून्य लग रहा है। वो भुजाएँ जो दिशाएँ इंगित करती थीं, आज निर्जीव शाखा जैसी लटक रही हैं। स्तंभ की भाँति जंघाओं की एक-एक मांसपेशियों में बस वेदना हो रही है। कैसे संभालूँ अपने अस्त्र, कैसे सन्तुलित करूँ अपने गंभीर, गठित शरीर को? सिर का किरीट फिसलता ही जा रहा है। सारी दिशाएँ समान क्यों प्रतीत होती हैं? जो नेत्र खुलकर सूर्य का स्वागत करते थे, अब जलमग्न क्यों हैं? कुछ दिखाई क्यों नहीं देता? समय इतना बोझिल क्यों प्रतीत हो रहा? ध्यान खंडित क्यों हो रहा है? दृष्टि धुंधली किस कारण है?

         मैं तो महारथियों का गुरु हूँ। आज जिस प्रवीणता से वे अस्त्रों का संधान करते हैं -- मैने ही तो शिक्षा दी है उन्हें। उनके समक्ष ऐसे निष्क्रिय, निरर्थक, विवश किस प्रकार दीख सकता हूँ मैं? कहाँ है मेरा स्वाभिमान, मेरा अभिमान? क्यों नहीं रोक पा रहा अपने इस अनादर को जो निर्लज्ज होकर, मुँह फाड़कर अट्टहास कर रहा है? कैसे इस अपमान की पीड़ा मुझे भस्म नहीं कर रही? क्यों नहीं हो रही मुझे मेरे अपमान की पीड़ा?

         कहीं छिप भी तो नहीं सकता। यहाँ आसपास कोई वन नहीं, वृक्ष नहीं, बस योद्धाओं का महासागर है और मैं इस सागर में जलमग्न हूँ।

         निस्सन्देह यह सत्य है, मिथ्या होने का  कोई कारण हो ही नहीं सकता। सत्य है कि मैं खो चुका हूँ अपने जीवन के  कारण को। अब क्या शेष है मेरे पास अपने शिष्यों को देने के लिये। बस एक आश्वासन और संतोष है मन में। समय आ चुका है उस प्रयाण का, जो निश्चित है, बस अनिश्चित है उसके आने का  समय। किन्तु निस्सन्देह वह समय निकट है।

         अपने नेत्रों को बंद करके समय आ गया है अपने शरीर को समेटने का। इस समय से उचित और कौन सा समय होगा, जब मेरे सर्वप्रिय मेरे निकट हैं? काश! वे दोनों भी होते इस पावन अवसर पर।

         कर्म का चक्र संपूर्ण हो गया है। अब तो बस भगवत्‌ में लीन होना है। कौन कहता है  यहाँ अंधकार है? यहाँ तो बस प्रेम का प्रकाश है। क्यों व्यर्थ किया मैंने इतना समय? बहुत वर्षों पहले  ही  इस प्रकाश में लिप्त हो जाना चाहिए था मुझे। समय का भान भी अब धीरे-धीरे समाप्त हो रहा है।

         पीड़ा भी उतनी नहीं। न किसी से मिलने का उत्साह है, न बिछड़ने का  दुःख। किन्तु उस पीड़ा से व्यथित हूँ कि अश्वत्थामा मारा गया।

                                             हरि ओम!

The dance of death

 

Her reputation preceded our encounter. A reputation not of myth but quite equal to the mettle and metal she wields with a spark. I had no idea that this was the encounter which although I was looking forward to but never felt ready for it. But despite my reluctance the stage was set and my reluctance gave way to my curiosity. I stepped into the area and there it was without doubt that which I had feared. She looked tired not because of fatigue of physical labour but out of waiting which she had endured for ages. Her prosthetics lying before her along with a small helmet. She shuddered but for a moment before gathering herself up, picking up her parts and fitting them with small twists and turns till they click fit to her body. The katana, it seems is moulded with her right arm and the helmet shut her eyes completely keeping the nostrils open. She had been waiting not for me but someone else, someone who shared her blood and hence the bloodline. With a single warning, which I might add came from a voice so feminine, full of love and depth, she announced that she would bring hell to me.

And hell, it was, without doubt. The first encounter was by far the shortest one where she took a small jump by her standards and chopped me like a salad not even giving me a moment of pain or realization of my doom and impending death. The writing was literally on the wall – “You Died” in red. I do not consider myself a person with good reaction skills but the sheer alacrity of the whole episode ending in a blink made me question – Am I ready for this? Perhaps not, but when is anyone ready for such encounters. What amount of practice and repetition would make you confident enough to answer that question in affirmative.  This was something which nobody would be ever ready about. I stepped in again and I would have lasted 30 seconds more than the first meet. The grinding had begun and it was up to me to bear it or leave it as there was no compulsion to complete it. And what would I gain after hours of suffering and frustration if I manage to vanquish the undefeated. A mere sense of achievement and belief that is all you would get given how far you had come up to this encounter. There were hundred reasons for me to not get subjected to humiliation and defeat again and again. There lies the power of determination which can overshadow the pain and sweat you shed and even obfuscates the tiny reward you expect in the end.

As the number of encounters grew, I would learn her routines and moves and one which terrified many and all – the dance. The dance is what defines her and she would not be even half of herself without the dance. You could dodge and die to the other moves thinking that had I done this or that at the right time I would have evaded it but the dance leaves you first in awe then disbelief. The first time she does the routine, you would definitely freeze at your place completely taken by surprise and astonishment as the routine ends with your certain death. The only image it leaves you behind with is her rise upwards, her skirt curling at her feet and the katana raised high above the head and the rest is just a fuzzy series of white flashes roughly resembling the orbit of electrons around the nucleus. It is as if the time stops for a moment or two before the dance unfolds itself and ends in her standing with her right knee bent, neck bent forward, head down, arms extended across her waist and the katana still and parallel to the ground. It is the start and the end which remains etched in your memory, the rest is just an experience. The effect of that move is that your whole encounter with her is just waiting for the dance. Every step you take after sometime is filled with a hope and trepidation of whether she would do the dance now or not. I have seen others completely mastering their moves and make a mockery of that dance but I am not as skilled as them. How I made through the dance is not important because I did what others had told me to do. As it turned out that was just the preparation of what would come next. As you sit there panting with relief, she would ask you to wait and not walk away from her as she wasn’t finished. You look back and ask her – Really!

 

What ensues is more frantic and more flashes and explosions. Your spirit already crushed by thinking that it was over further sinks with each and every new move and when she finally gets you, you have to start all over again, witnessing the dance and all. The dance which days ago looked so satisfying when you would dodge it just feels like a routine and you just ask yourself while dodging when will this be over. Many times, the first phase itself would kill you although at this point of time there is no reason for you to not get past it. It is the mental fatigue and a sense of complacency which defeats you. There were several encounters where I was merely 3 or 4 hits away from ending it but every time she would surprise me with a move, not new at all, which I thought she would never do or did not know could do from the situation she was in. I finally vanquished her. I had thought that my victory would make me pump my fists beat my chest and fill me with elation but I just felt tired and the enormous number of times I was defeated by her compared to my single victory did not warrant a real achievement.

In the end she disappeared like a mist her voice trailing and weeping, repentant that she could not protect her brother and had finally found her match. But ask me lady, I was not match to you. You leave behind a void. A sense of purpose was there whenever I would encounter you and a feeling of almost surrender would accompany my every end at your hands. Although I wanted with all my heart and will to defeat you, I long for our encounter again. And defeat me again O Malenia for you are unequal and though many would defeat you none would have done so without tasting the same over and over again.

Meandering in dark

I find myself standing at the entrance and suddenly the relief of darkness falls all over me. My pupils dilate for what seemed relief a few moments ago quickly transforms itself into uneasiness. I am so used to being aware of the surroundings that this sudden transition makes me shift nervously on my legs. Was I facing north?  I realize that direction lends itself its meaning only when it is accompanied by luminosity. It is like standing on the North Pole where there is only one direction-south. A moment ago I was so sure of myself and what I was going to do but now nothing but confusion is what I feel. My hands try to guide me through the darkness as my legs seem very reluctant to move anywhere. I stretch my hands out and all I get is the void wrapped around me. My legs gather some courage and start to wade through the space. How involuntary is walking to me when I see light and how helpless I feel in the absence of any beacon. These are some moments in your life when you suddenly start appreciating light, hope, certitude leaving aside all the other things which in the presence of all the above seem very important. I take a step forward and my legs hit the edge of a step.  I stumble but my hands outstretched already keep me from falling forward. My legs have now gauged the height of a step and taking another step is so much easier than the first one. My left hand, constantly probing the darkness, finds a support in the form of a wall made soft by the fabric covering it, lending it a smooth texture. Some amount of reassurance starts coming back to my character and my pace quickens just a little bit. What or who am I searching for? Do I know what I want? No, maybe. But something deep in my subconscious is asking me to wander around and search for someone. Yes, now I know, I am searching for someone not something. My eyes have finally been able to wipe away some amount of darkness and I can make out various shapes and people sitting in front of me. I seem to recognize some faces which are looking away from me, their eyes still and completely absorbed by incidents unfolding before them. However, I seem uninterested in those events for I am searching for someone who is also a part of this gathering and affected by the events shown to them.  Suddenly a face holds my attention, a face I have known since I was unaware of any other face in this world. I head towards that face and I am so surprised at finding that person suddenly. I had not seen that face for a long time, though I could never erase the memory of it. I can see clearly now and it seems that the light around all the other faces has faded and only one spot in that space is illuminated. I have no difficulty in finding my way towards that person. I approach the bright spot and ask “What are you doing here alone”. She looks at me trying to recognize me, clearly struggling, inquiring through her eyes. Although my eyes are now filled with memories, hers on the other hand are void.

Past, Present and Future

What is present? Present defines the system around us as it happens now. We define present according to the events unfolding before our eyes. And, rapidly, these events which were defining present for us become a part of our past. So, what is the boundary, the event horizon between the present and the past. If every moment is present then don't we just linger for a moment in
the past before we realize that it is not present anymore. If every moment is present then how short is this present. Is every tick of a clock an indication,a blip on the radar of time which reminds us of now, the present. But this is only because for commons like me have a clock which keeps time on
a per second basis. So, are we limiting ourselves from realizing the enormity of the present by just measuring it by a tick of a second. Does this not limit us from living more in the present than dwelling a lot more in the past.If only my mind could count 1000 milliseconds fast enough I would have encountered present 1000 times more than a second. This limit to breaking down the time into smaller parts is infinite, if only, I were capable of realizing how infinite a second is. This paradox of making a second infinite is what makes this boundary of past and present very blurred. If I had a
superhero friend who could react to milliseconds, then an event occurring during a passage of time would have been both present and future because my superhero friend would have seen that event earlier while I, quite incapable of reacting so quickly, would still be waiting for that event to happen and whatever I perceived as present would be past for my superhero friend.

Solitude

Solitude is the breeding ground of introspection and creative thinking, yet most of us dread
its fellowship. Solitude helps in filling the void created by our loved ones by leading us to a
path of contemplation. A path very rarely trodden by our fickle mind. It almost seems that the
mind does not desire to think for us, this is a paradox for this is what it is designed for. I
guess one of the many reasons for this would be fatigue because apart from thinking, the human
mind acts as a central processor of various other activities far more chemically complex than
creative contemplation. So it persuades us to get involved in less strenuous tasks than mulling
deeply over a problem. But here lies a profound paradox, deep introspection which our mind
dreads and resists initially, is also what it ultimately desires. But this far and distant cry
for help remains embedded quite deep in our intellect.A weak sound which none of us can deny
hearing constantly and ignore because it does not bother us much. It does not throb horribly
which is why it can be easily ignored. Subjugating this distress does not seem to be any less
profitable and we plod along. It is when the cacophony enveloping us terminates abruptly that
this muffled sound seems unbearable with its decibels unbearably amplified. In other words,
this is what is called boredom. This results because of the unreadiness of the mind to handle a
strange situation. This sudden jolt of the absence of activities is what the human mind detests
and when faced with it, reacts sharply manifesting itself in irritation and frustration.
This is the moment which sets human beings apart from each other. Most of us try to get rid of
boredom as soon as possible by engaging ourselves in alternate activities similar to the ones
performed prior to the onset of boredom. Some would challenge the mind by getting involved in a
process which sets the wheels of thoughts in motion. The same vacillating mind suddenly heeds to its cry for help and reluctantly responds by paving a thought process. A process which follows a path full of darkness and unknown and the mind, somewhat unbalanced and confused, gropes for any aid and support in the void.Then suddenly, it binds to a thought which seems to stabilize its chaotic state, however upon realizing that the thought does not rest on a stable ground, it leaves its grip on the thought and proceeds further. If this process is given a time long enough then the mind would surely discover a thought which it can latch itself to. In some cases this is the moment when the mind conceives an idea, a moment which has the potential to transform the mind and all the minds around. The realization of such truth immediately fills the mind with utmost peace,tranquility and happiness. It looks at the product of this adventurous journey and smiles triumphantly at its prize.

Who, if not me?

Is it reverence,devotion,faith,submission,curiosity or simply fear in their minds, I can't make from their eyes as they are mostly shut, impervious to any surmise with respect to the emotions filling them. I wonder whom these gestures are meant for. I have been around for so many years, if that is the only comprehensible unit of time, almost since the beginning and seen so many generations being born and perish before me, but rarely have I noticed any sentiment indifferent from the ones mentioned earlier. The question lingers within me - why? As I span around myself, I see they are special, there is nobody else as them. The realization of being lonely has come quite recently to them, whether it is accompanied with relief or sadness is rather unclear to me. Perhaps, they owe their existence to someone. Someone who is supreme,omnipotent,omnipresent,kind,forgiving,noble. However, if these were the qualities of their creator then why do I find fear inside them. I think they imagine that their creator dispenses retribution as they deserve.
Some bow their heads to symbols, some do not. Some join their hands, some do not. Some deliver renditions, some do not. Some preach, the others prefer silence, but a singular theme joins these emotions like a stream travelling vast distance before joining the ocean before evaporating and condensing back to commence its journey again. Most of them seem to be followers, tracing the steps of their leaders, believing every word pronounced by them and perhaps, if I may, misinterpriting the message. The misinterpretation has more often than not led to a contest, sometines settled by debate but mostly ending with a loss. A loss to all who had participated in this duel, although I am not sure if the participants acknowledge the loss because for them, the loss was worth the contest. As a
silent observer, I am still to come to a conslusion about the winner. I , who dispathces the packets of energy to them which reaches them in eight,what they call, minutes. I, who has been consuming itself incessantly to provide them nutrition, am unsure what drives them to such a degree of eccentricity. The whole system, the size of which is quite unimaginable to the best of their minds, is what I control and literally their world revolves around me. To be honest, there is no shred of doubt that the singular reason of their existence is nothing but me, for I am the one who when faces them, delivers them the juice of life. The land under their feet is a small portion of rejection from my monolithic existence. And it is not just the land under them but any manifestation of form suspended in the space around them has an existence because of me,for I am the SUN. And although, for as long as time can go back I have been brooding over the same question in loneliness of my existence, I still have no answer to this simple query- Whom are these humans praying to if not me?