संपूर्ण समर्पण (हिंदी आलेख)

News4u-फ़ीचर डेस्क- (हिंदी आलेख)  आये दिन नित नई स्टोरी की तलाश में मारा मारा फिरता एक जाने माने पत्र का रिपोर्टर मैं , हर कोशिश के बावजूद बॉस से कभी शाबाशी पाने का हक़दार न बन पाया था Iहर बार एक ही जुमला, “ अरे काम करते हो तो पूरे डेडिकेशन से करोI ये आधे अधूरे वाक्य, धुंधले कैरीकेचर, कहानी कहाँ शुरू कहाँ ख़त्म कुछ पता नहींI ध्यान दो बाबा ध्यान दो काम पर, खाना, पीना, सोना, फॅमिली सब भूल कर कम्पलीट डेडीकेशन होगा तभी न टॉप स्टोरी बनेगी ? “

ये कम्पलीट डेडीकेशन, एक गाली बन गया था मेरे लिए जो बॉस जब चाहे मुझपर उछाल मारता था और मैं उसे अपने से चिपकाए गली मोहल्ले भटकता रहता था I एक दिन की बात, बहुत मायूस हो कर मैं एक मंदिर में जा घुसा I शायद इन देवता की मानता कुछ अधिक ही थी I दर्शन करने वालों की लम्बी कतार पूर्ण श्रध्दा से धीरे धीरे आगे की ओर सरक रही थी I जेब में हाथ डाला, एक सौ का नोट हाथ आया I घबरा कर उसे वापस ठूंसा, अभी स्कूटर में पेट्रोल डलवाना है I देखूं कुछ चेंज है कि नहीं I एक बार फिर जो जेब टटोली तो पांच का एक भारी सा सिक्का उँगलियों से आ टकराया I स्वस्ति की सांस ले कर कतार में जा मिला I

मेरे आगे एक मैली सी लुंगी और कमीज़ पहने जो व्यक्ति खड़ा था वह अपने रूपरंग से रिक्शावाला लग रहा था I कतार धीरे धीरे आगे बढ़ रही थी I अब हम देव मूर्ति के ठीक सामने आ पहुंचे थे I मेरा पांच का सिक्का तैयार था, पर मेरे आगे वाला कुछ बेचैन दिखाई दे रहा था I उसने पहले मुडा सा दो का एक नोट निकाला फिर कुछ सोचता सा पांच का नोट जेब से बाहर खींचा I इस प्रक्रिया में दस के दो नोट भी बाहर आ रहे I अब उसके हाथ में उसकी पूरी पूँजी थी I

मैं बड़ी जिज्ञासा से उसे देख रहा था I तभी देखा कि न जाने क्या सोच कर उसने अपनी कुल जमा पूँजी देवता के सामने रख दी I हौले से सिर नवा कर ही वह झट से भीड़ में खो गया I चकित और सशंकित मन ले कर मैं बाहर आया I सोचा अपनी अब तक की कमाई देव की भेंट चढ़ा कर वह रिक्शा वाला किसी कोने में खड़ा पछता तो नहीं रहा I पर नहीं सामने सरक पर अपने खाली रिक्शे को एक एइ से लहरा कर खींचते हुए वह ऊंची आवाज़ में कोई भजन गा रहा था I उसके चेहरे पर एक अजीब सुख की छाया थी, संतोष का आनंद था I और मैं – आज मुझे सम्पूर्ण समर्पण का मतलब समझ में आ गया था i

अब बॉस को ये जुमला यानी कम्प्लीट डेडीकेशन बोलने का मौका नहीं दूंगा i मैंने मन ही मन प्रण ले डाला था I

By : Veera Chaturvedi
Veera Chaturvedi is a renowned author . She has many books to her credit. She is a freelancer you can find more of her articles on — http://ipen-veera.blogspot.in/

मंदिर मैं भक्तों की कतार

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A world - desensitized

News4u-Features Desk- She, my teenage grand daughter sits before me frustrated & irritated to the core. I am trying to explain the spiritual love Meera Bai had for her Krishna. My grand daughter had the book open before her and as I read the lines from Meera - ” Mane chakar rakho ji”, she listens with a frown deepening with every word. When I am done with explaining what all Meera is ready to do for only a darshan of her beloved Krishna, she is furious.

“Slavery! Dadi this is slavery and nothing else that Meera is talking about. Why should Meera, a rajrani, want to be a slave, which is inhuman to say the least.” I am taken aback. Till now I had never looked at Meera’s innocent craving to be Krishna’s chakar in this light. I tried to reason with her but she was filled with her new acquired knowledge of liberty, equality and God knows what not. The idea of absolute sacrifice of self and spiritual bonding to a person or a God just did not gel with her.

Meera and Surdas aside, my elder grand daughter seriously complained to me against Siyaram Sharan Gupta’s immortal poem ‘ Ek Phool ki chah’. Her grudge was that the poet was doing EMOTIONAL ATYACHAR on them.

She started explaining how Sukhiya’s father could have averted the tragedy. First of all she condemned the caste system, never having come across it in life. Then she suggested that the father could have asked any upper class Hindu to get him a flower from the temple. My grand daughter was sure that no one would have refused to do that. Her trump card was that Sukhiya’s father could have easily plucked a flower from anywhere and given it to Sukhiya as Devi ka prasad. Why such weepy tales should be included in the sylabus she questioned me with anger.

Now tell me how I could explain to her the then prevalent caste divide and the utter abhorrence to untruth regarding Gods. The pathos of the situation, the helpless father’s dilemma nowhere touched the youngster’s heart. I remembered my teacher and the whole class choking on the last lines of the poem, weeping with unshed tears for a wish which could not be fulfilled because of the social barriers between man and man.

The new generation, has actually been desensitized by the brutality raging all around them. The monstrous scenes of killings and beatings in films has washed away sensitivity towards the suffering for ever. We hear of a person being beaten to death in public, a mob of onlookers never raising a finger to help the victim. The way old age homes are getting crowded and infants being raped, shows clearly where the human mind is directed to.

Its a world of selfies no one except me inhabits this world. Nobody likes to read the Ode to the nightingale or about Nirala’s beggar and the Lady who broke stones on the street. The world of tears and joys of watching a beautiful sunrise, the ecstasy of beholding a row of daffodils is an emotion of the past. The affinity with nature is no where in sight. Should I say the life of this planet is now devoid of all romance. The new songs have no ardour, the softness of thought & deed.

No wonder Nature is angry and fumes at this world of insensitive creatures. No one writes an ode to the wind because it has turned into a cyclone.

By : Veera Chaturvedi
Veera Chaturvedi is a renowned author . She has many books to her credit. She is a freelancer you can find more of her articles on http://ipen-veera.blogspot.in/


A world - desensitized- courtesy- colinsclipart.com

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Alfanso with maths.

News4u-Features Desk- My son and daughter in law came back from Bombay after a tiring business trip. They handed us our gifts one by one as they emerged from suitcases. And then came the big surprise, a box full of Alfanso. I had actually forgotten how this rare variety of mango looked like, but thanks to Katrina kaif I could recognise it.

As my daughter in law, handed me the parcel, she declared “We paid a thousand bucks for a dozen of these, let us eat them sensibly.” We all looked inside the box with awe writ large on our faces.The Alfansos lay there comfortably very much aware of their importance and value.

Then began the trial. After dinner, with great funfair, two mangoes were brought out along with freshly cleaned knife and a shining plate to accomplish the ritual.

My son exclaimed “Wah! they look delicious! Twelve for a thousand! Have to be extraordinary.” I, the one always poor at maths, tried calculating in my mind, twelve for a thousand means, one for how much? There I was stumped. Why couldn’t the mangowala sell twelve for twelve hundred and done with it, or he could have easily given ten for a thousand to simplify the matter. Then I would n’t have to struggle with calculations and spoil the taste of Alfanso. To make a long story short I could never eat the Alfanso peacefully. The question kept on bothering me how much the slice of a mango, worth more than a hundred, would cost. So eating Alfanso became an exercise with maths.

I remember when we were in US for a visit at our daughter’s place, my son in law would always tell us how much a Samosa in US dollars cost. Everybody then tried to calculate its worth in Indian currency. My God ! a thing like samosa cost sixty rupees according to our calculation and suddenly it tasted like pulp in my mouth.

Now, its not only mango, sometimes its Arhar dal, Tea leaves or Sugar. And my mind goes ticking trying to make out how much fifty gms of dal, which I consume daily should cost. Then how much a cup of tea would be worth with sugar and tea leaves all brought together.

With such a lot of mathematical muddle in my mind I have lost all interest in eatables of the world. I sip maths with tea, munch chips silently calculating in my mind how much one chip would cost and how much I am hogging without bothering for the cost.

Finally I have become obsessed with maths. One goli of Hazmola goes into my mouth and the brain starts ticking. If there are hundred golis in a bottle costing sixtyfour rupees how much would one goli cost. The same question again. Why can’t these shopkeepers or whoever is responsible for the cost, of all the products, simplify matter for the likes of me. Hundred rupees for hundred golies and it will give such peace to my maths infected brain.

I know the whole world has become very calculative but can’t they spare a tired mind from such hazardous calculations?

By : Veera Chaturvedi

Alfanso

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A Terrified Man on the CM’s chair

News4u-Features Desk- The newly sworn in Chief Minister of J & K Mufti Mohammed Saeed is a frightened man. He is terrified of the moving shadows across the border. They had at one time abducted his teenage daughter and in ransom asked for the release of some dangerous terrorists. He had bowed down to their demands. The pain still persists.

Mr. Mufti is not only paranoid, he does not have the gumption to acknowledge the unusual courage of the people of the valley. They had chosen democracy in the face of bullets.

What kind of leader this man would prove to be? A coward lacking in foresight ? The whole world saw how the forces fought with raging floods to save hundreds, nay thousands of people of the valley. The world also watched with apprehension when the elections were being conducted and our jawans stood like pillars of strength to protect those who weathered warnings of the separatists and came out to vote. Mufti Mohammed just could not surmise the faith people had developed in the army which was deployed to protect them. He actually shamed the people of J &K by thanking hostile groups across the border, instead of appreciating their courage.

Mufti Mohammed also overlooked the way the election commission worked day & night in eerie circumstances to help give the people a fresh and corruption free government. He also turned his gaze away from the ever present and alert police force at polling booths.

Mr. Mufti, as I said in the begining is a frightened man. His eyes are glued down to the shadows lurking behind the Indo-Pak border and he is afraid that they may pull out the chair from under him at any time.

Mufti Mohammed negates every thing that a good & strong leader should possess. With BJP as the humsafar of PDP and Mufti in the driving seat, the road ahead seems bumpy & fraught with obstacles!

By : Veera Chaturvedi
Veera Chaturvedi is a renowned author . She has many books to her credit. She is a freelancer you can find more of her articles on http://ipen-veera.blogspot.in/


A Terrified Man on the CM’s chair

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