Cheeku,
Do we live to learn and learn to live? in every circumstance? ‘Shama har rang mein jalti hai sahar hone tak’? This is a mystery we all, who are trapped between life and death, live with. The transcendence comes only once…and for that I must wait for the Gods, who you consort with, to smile at me.
I haven’t written to you for ages. I ask myself, am I now getting used to your absence, not being around? Is it that eveyday mundaneness has lulled me into a sense of nothingness? Do you no longer remain etched sharply on the portal of my mind?
In the last one year, I have travelled from one corner of the earth to the other almost constantly. There is a sense of living up in the air, on airports, out of suitcases. There is a sense of peace in this because it makes me feel I am moving, getting somewhere. And when I reach, there is another journey. In a sense I never reach. I only keep going somewhere. This gives me a sense of comfort from restlessness. The anticipation of the journey, never the destination.
I meet people everyday in the far off lands I travel to. Each one with a history of her or his own. They live out their destinies every moment. They may have people around them, friends, relatives, uncles, colleagues…they are together, but in reality are they with anyone? Or are they islands surrounded by a sea of people and yet untouched?
In Washington, my driver Fekri is an Egyptian. An extremely polite and efficient man, he wears a black tie and a dark suit to drive me around. He even sports dark glasses that hide his expressive eyes. He says he is an architect and worked as one with a French company im Saudi Arabia, till the promise of the brave new world, the USA, brought him to America. Here he learnt that to practice architecture he needs to take a course and pass an exam. He doesn’t have the money to do so. He drives a taxi.
Sandeep is the protocol man for the Indian Consulate in NY. He is local staff, at the bottom of the heap. He smiles a lot, knows everyone at the airport, is extremely polite, has large expressive and kind eyes and is amazingly effective…with airlines, with immigration, with security. When I see him, my spirirts are lifted. He brings a sense of unbounded joy to all he connects with. He lost both his parents, he is alone in the USA, his life revolves round protocol, airports, people coming and going. He puts all his pictures on the Facebook. He wants his relatives in India to stay connected with him. He knows there is a brighter future somewhere out there. Even though for the last nine years he is doing the same job.
Lives, and how they are disconnected and yet bound by loneliness…memories…awareness of the moment…hope, and no more.
This is how life is presented to most of us.
For me, travelling is my destiny. I enjoy the journey. I don’t like reaching. Just the journey. Because this is what connects me to you, in silences of the flight, in the noises of the city, in the unfolding fascinating stories of Fekris and Sandeeps.
And how do I remember you in the midst of this:
Main kya kahu’n ki jo mera tumhara rishta hai,
Wo aashiqui ki zubaa’n mein kahin bhi darj nahin,
Likha gaya hai bahut lutf-e-vasl-o-dard-e-firaq,
Magar ye kaifiyat apani raqam nahin hai kahin
Yeh apana ishq hum aagosh jismein hijr-e-visaal,
Yeh apana dard ke hai kab se hai humdum-e-mah-o-saal,
Is ishq-e-khaas ko har ek se chuppaye hue,
Guzar gaya hai zamana gale lagaye hue….
Aise hi Cheeku, chup chap, gale se lagaye hue.
Dad