मै बेख़ौफ़

Pretext

Fear and desire seek frames of shadows, veils and wrinkles in restless attempts to manifest a language that listens to communicate and speaks in silence. This struggle to break through the fallacy of prevalent mediums of communication exudes joy only in the moments of action that negotiates space, time and matter. As the process nears manifestation, joy begins to disintegrate.

Hence, perhaps, all action is best left incomplete, or rather all events are states of perpetual action. Hence, in spite of being earnest enquiries into my perspectives, these lines and the ones that follow are not ‘true,’ ‘uncontaminated’ emotions flowing from my being onto the paper, via the pen. Instead, these are fabrications – assembled, chiseled, broken and rebuilt – though after an image, not to capture it but to understand the image, to understand structure through dispute and digression.

Beginning with the intention of addressing an intensity of emotions/ questions, the construction would proceed with borrowed elements. Playing with possible configurations of these elements would suggest the further inclusion of intentions/ elements and their possible arrangements. The body evolved as imagined or otherwise – a negotiation between the image and the medium.

The choice of devnagri as the script is based on accessibility and the association as belonging to one’s mother tongue. The choice of Hindustani as the language arrives from the fascinating impression of Urdu ghazals, which I inherited at a young age.

The significance of ghazal lies in its acknowledgement of disjunction, of perpetual de-framing (veil as naqab or hijab), sensuality and humour as panacea, and the essentiality and inconsequentiality of the human effort to segregate and to bring things together.

The reference to ghazal, however, is not to legitimize my indulgences. Honestly, as an overview of this body of work, I find it oppressive. But, these constructs have been my companions, in borrowed terms: “my power, my pleasure, my pain.” This is the face of my anger, the barren land where I try to cultivate patience. All this wandering for genuine communication makes me wonder if it’s ever possible, or worse still, if I will it at all. In conclusion, the enigmatic objective in speaking of this fear is to give it life and thus, the destiny to death and reincarnation.

Siddhartha
April 2oo4
Ahmedabad

to daddy…

दहलीज़ 

शबे-तन्हाई की पलकों से छलक हथेली धोता

तारीख़े-आफताब मुझपे और मै ख़ुद्पे हंसता 

जोभि देखा किया सोचा है उसीका बनाया और चलता जाता 

हटा चादर रौशनी उंडेली साए बटोरते दोपहर आयी

फिर साए वापस बिखेरे क्यों शाम को चादर लौटाई 

ये जल्वागरी उस्सको मयस्सर जो बनाया और चलता गया

वजूद क्या है आरज़ू सदा या परछाईं 

हौसला चट्टान है शक्ल नहीं 

जो उगने से डूबने तक बनाया और चलता रहा 

बना आशियाँ बढ़ता गया कोई इंतज़ार नहीं

इसे रेहनेदो यहीं खँडहर ही सही

गाता उस्हीकी दास्ताँ जो बनाया और चलता चला

तराशा जो रुख्सारे-शगुफ्त ढूँढता बहाना कोई

न रहा खौफ वक़्त का बिखरी क़ायनात संवारी 

है बहाना ज़रूरी जितना आघोशे-खामोशी 

सरान्खों से चूमा सीने से लगा इसे चलता हुआ 

वेहेम 

इतनाकुछ बोल गया

कान्टेसी फंसी गिरवी जुबां

उगले बने ना निगले

कितनाकुछ बोल गया

अलफ़ाज़ के छाले तनहा

ख़याले नासूर को छोड़ चले

कितनाकुछ भूल पाया

कहकहों में क्या नुमाइश

सोचता हूँ हंसी कितनी

कितनाकुछ भूल आया

इन आंसुओं में क्या नमक

पूछता हूँ कितना पानी

झोंक ज़हन में धुल रहा

क्या सोचा जो वाही किया

जो किया वाही कहा

फिर आज वेहेम में झूल रहा

कौन समझा क्या किसने किया

जो तू समझा मैंने वही कहा