BEING AND BECOMING

Clouds overshadowing  Their colours are too mystical Their fragrance is making one indifferent About the suffering in the world Their shadow is hiding  The deceptive dance of ego The dialectics of I and You  Erases each-other and make them alive For witnessing the suffering  Who has defeated once for all The mara, the trishna, the quest of fulfillment? Show me that moment  When the dazzling light of Sun Has made the mirrage to disappear Permanently, eternally  Show me that spirit  Overpowering the quest  Of being and becoming

वो अल्हड़ सा मनमौजी समय था जब चढ़ते हुए सूरज के आँगन में हम क्रिकेट खेला करते थे। वो गाँव में दशहरे का समय  जब छोटे-छोटे बच्चे मेला जाया करते थे मेले से लाये गए खिलौने  को संजो कर रखा करते थे। वो शाम में रेडियो के आसपास बैठे गाँव के बुजुर्ग राजनीति पे छीटा-कसी किया करते थे। पूरे गाँव में टेलीविज़न का एक सेट होता था जिसके एंटीने के पेचाकसी में पूरा धारवाहिक गुजर जाता था। जबसे विकाश की नई बयार बही है गाँव आज शहर की नकल कर रहा है परिवार की जड़ें जमीं से कुछ इस क़दर उखड़ी है कि आज पेड़ की हर डाली एक-दूसरे से हिसाब मांग रही है आज के हम बिखरे पत्ते अपनी जड़ों से दूर आसमां की उड़ान भरते हैं आसमां की ऊँचाई में भटक कर जब घर को लौटते हैं तो घर हमसे ये सवाल पूछती है कि कितनी घड़ी के लिए आये हो जब तुम घर छोड़ कर जाओगे क्या तुम्हें याद होगा वो चेहरा जो इस आस में तुम्हें विदा किया था कि शायद एक मुलाकात फ़िर से होगी कुछ बातें फिऱ से होगी। पर वो बातें अधूरी रह गई थी इतनी अधूरी की उसे मुकम्मल करने को मैं दरबदर भटकता हूँ। इस शहर के हर एक बाग बगीचों में अपने गांव को खोजता रहता हूँ पर एक गांव से शहर का सफर तो आसान है

कल की बात है अभी अभी तो आये थे बाज़ार में चारो तरफ़ रौनक था लोग कल आज कल का दामन छोड़ मोल भाव में मशहुल थे जब से ख़रीदार बाज़ार से दूर हुए बाज़ार में बिछा हुआ सामान कई सवाल पूछ रहे हैं उन सवालों में कुछ जवाब तो दफ़न हैं उन जवाबों की शक़्ल अनगिनत सवालों सा है एक सवाल जो ज़ुबान पे अटक सा गया है की वो कौन सी दौलत है जो समय के बाज़ार को  दाम की नीलामी लगा सकता है हर बाज़ार के उसूल को कौड़ी के भाव में ख़रीद नहीं सकते कुछ दुकान पैसे से नहीं उसूलों पे तौले जाते हैं जिस बाज़ार में उसूल नीलाम होते हैं वैसे बाज़ार में इन्सान बेचे खरीदे जाते हैं आजकल इन्हीं बाज़ारों से मैं होकर गुजरता हूँ

        Portrait Courtesy: Shraddha One day when 'I' die  All would born as free life The long struggle to be Would turn out to be a mirage  Whose mystery is long known But forgotten Every concern or engagement Is an escape to forget  The first germ of life; its completeness Shackles are nowhere  But imagined as real One day that image would disappear And a blank sheet would represent The Being and Nothingness My mother my light  Has merged into the shadow To witness the geist  Glittering in every particle  All around ether  One day when I laugh On the seriousness of playfulness And let the things flow  Without any expectation or resistance The day would be a new dawn To the spirit of wholeness And unity of phenomenon Fragmented in an age of reason And anarchus egoism of individuals  One day the expression of collective Would loose its relevance  When man would realise The silent spirit  And its feminine mystery 

 “I”, subject, written or writing is waiting to be written, like a secret code, whose time of revelation is yet to come. What is so sacred about the subject is its mystical character? It is believed to be understood; it is taken for granted; as a transcendental finite image of god. Its sacredness produces a profane world, whose dispositive character has made the world a spectacular stage. What is so special about the subject is its ability to forget the substratum and to get involved in profane dance of meaningless play. Subject is too important a character whose omnipresence makes every moment a  chain to life, bound by a distant purpose whose time never comes and will never come. Subject's occupation with dispositive makes it forgetful about its existence. Forgetfulness is propagated by a religion whose job is to discover salvation in consumptive mentality. All too meaningless consumptions have reduced subject a devouring apparatus whose meaninglessness is compensated by the symb

Aristotle once wrote in his Nicomachean Ethics that there are four significant virtues for human beings, namely Prudence, Temperance, Justice, and Courage. There are a few judges who have courage and sense of justice, both. Hon'ble Mr. Justice Rohinton Nariman has been truly an exemplar judge and erudite historian, theologian and philologist, a great scholar of music as well as a courageous and meticulous jurist of our country. He did his Master of Laws from Harvard Law School in 1980-81 and taught by one of the finest jurists of the last century, Roberto Unger. He became Senior Advocate in 1993 in the age of 37 and also served as Solicitor General of India in 2011 before he was elevated as a judge of the Supreme Court of India in 2014. He delivered many landmark judgments, including Shreya Singhal v. Union of India. There are a few people with whom time moves too fast, but to count that experience takes ages. Justice Rohinton Nariman is one of those great jurists with whom a meet