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

Book Cover of the Book Law is the subject and object of curiosity since the ancient civilizations started its journey of contemplation about the order within the nature; its mysterious paths inspired the germination of metaphysics. Initially, human's mode of existence lived as instinctual life as per the call of nature. Instincts were primarily used as a medium for survival and to receive the call of wisdom from the “order of nature”. Humans are primarily one of the modes of expression of the nature, as Spinoza calls it attributes which express the essence of God and modes which are derived from the essence of God or nature (Spinoza, Ethics). The doorway of all the laws, as brooding presence of harmony, may be received if one is alert to recognize its call. Prof. Raman Mittal has penned a beautiful book titled “The Rhythm of Law”. The uniqueness of the book is its potentialities to express the inexpressible wisdom. Martin Heidegger in his Magnum Opus, Being and Time, expresses the

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The most simple question is the most difficult question one may pose. To what extent one may travel is the most pertinent question. It is the ability of thought that to what extent it can unravel and question the questions. Questioning the questions is the quest to know the question itself. In knowing the nuances of the question, and through piercing the derivatives, which mystify the question on surface level, one may travel towards the anima, the dark matter of thought, commonly known as metaphysics. As long as human beings are quarrelling on and debating over "one track thinking" (Martin Heidegger), creating a dogma of common sense to avoid the existential questions, thinking will never be free from the dogmas of philosophizing unidirectional and singularity of concepts and categories, recycled from thousand of years by greatest thinkers who thought but never thought afresh from the very beginning of the history of ideas. Therefore, the most thought provoking food for thou

Every discourse ends in absurdity. Every statement either over-signifies or under-signifies.Every knowledge is raw and amateur. The living truth is ineffable. It cannot be conceptualised or comprehended in the imagery of signifier or signified. Yet, discursive pleasure is unparalleled for a devotee who doesn't have insight to the most sacred as well as the most profane truth. Under the surface of imagery, beneath the tide of the ocean, in the flowing river, beside the silence of trees, in the glorious height of mountains, in the sublime beauty of the Moon, and around the twinkling of starts, the reality is blossoming, appearing, disappearing, and reappearing. The playfulness of life is mysteriously weaving every thread, recycling every drop of water, and dramatizing the vibrance of microcosmic and macrocosmic experiences. Discourses are too ephemeral though the most desired option to express the ineffable experience of life.