When life gives you a lucrative call, you can’t resist that! Be it the tempting life style of the city-dwellers, the vast opportunities in the city or the chances of a strong career; there could be numerous other reasons which makes you leave your village for the city life. I am no exception to this! I left my village to be a part of this high society. I earn money, name, reputation and what not. But as they say, the land is always greener on the other side. Now, when I see the village folks and their life style; I feel a tinge of jealousy. How lucky of them to have such a peaceful life! And I started craving for my village.
Occasionally, I do visit my village. And last month was, one among such occasions when I get a chance to visit my native place. When I was there, I feel a strong sense of belonging to them. The trees of my backyard, the village pond, the cows and their sheds, the deserted houses, the broken huts; each of them seems to be talking with me. I feel as if they are waiting for me, since ages! A warm feeling on my cheeks made me feel that I am shedding tears for them. Is it my sense of guilt? Have I really disowned them?
I have no answer to these questions. I came back to Mumbai with these questions. And under the heavy influence of such guilt, I tried to write down the feelings of our ancient home.
Suna Aashiyan ka Dard..
Kabhi yahan bhi bhor hua karti thi,
Kabhi yahan bhi diye jala karte the,
Is tulsi ke paas kai sundar rang-birenge rangoli dekhe the maine,
Kai payalon ke sur sune; kai haathon me diye dekhe the maine,
Aaj toh me bas intzaar karti hun, kya woh wapas aayenge?
Woh bhul gaye hain shayad mujhko;
Shayad me purani ho gayi unke liye;
Lekin wo mere liye ab bhi hain apne…
Ye mere darwaze abhi budhe ho rahe hain,
Inki lakdiyan komzor pad rahi hain,
In diwaron ne toh zaise ummeed barson se hi chod di hai,
Aur yeh aangan, maano jaise khud se hi khafa-khafa sa hai;
Lekin mujhe ab bhi vishwas hai, woh zarur aayenge…
Bhula nahi sakte woh beeti kahani;
Bachpan ki kisse aur ladakpan ki nisaani;
Aakhir, hain toh woh mere hi apne…
Yahan phir wahi hasi ki kilkari gunjegi,
Yahan phir bacche khelenge,
Gunj uthega ye mera aangan phir se;
Nayi peedhi ke naye rang sajenge,
Mujhe Vishwas hai…
Main is tulsi se humesha kehti hun,
Tu murjhana nahi, apna hunar mat chodna,
Tu isi tarah mehekti reh aur hawa mehkaati reh,
Dekhna, yahan phir wo subah-sham aayegi,
Phir hamari bahu-betian yahan diye jalaengi,
Aur Puja ki thaali liye,
Teri charron aur parikrama bhi karengi!
Kya woh mujhe bhool gaye hain?
Aakhir main hun toh gujare zamane ki nishani;
Kya de sakti hun me unko ab?
Jimmedari ka bojha dhote-dhote;
Mujhe yaad karne ka samay nahi mila hoga!
Meri aankhon ne toh inhe janam lete dekha hai,
Kitni arthi uthte aur kitni doliyan sajte dekha hai,
Ab aankhe meri kamzor hain par mera vishwas kamzor nahi;
Main jaanti hun, ek din woh aayenge!
Kisi na kisi bacche ko toh meri yaad zarur aayegi,
In budhi diwaron par rangon ki ik nayi jaan aayegi
Phir gunjegi yahan shehnai kai
Phir likhenge hum yahan kahani nayi…
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