बिन्नी

सारा शहर परेशान ही कि बिन्नी, बिन्नी क्यू है...
सारा शहर दुबला जा रहा है कि बिन्नी, बिन्नी क्यू है

जहा महात्मा गांधी रोड पर बिकती शराब है...
वहा सिर्फ मेरी बिन्नी कि वजहसे इस शहर का आसमा खराब है?

बिन्नी जैसी भी है, बिन्नी है, वो मेरी है!
उसमे कोई खोट नाही, वो पूरी है!

अरे जिस शहर को इन्सान होने की तमीज नही
उस शहर को शिकायत है बिन्नी के बारे मे?

अब मै शहर की उम्मीदोन के हिसाब से बिन्नी को काट छाट कर छोटा कैसे कर दू?
बिन्नी आखिर मेरी बेटी है, कोई कमीज नही...


कमलेश पांडे I think
थोडा सा रुमानी हो जाये...1990

Pecheeda...

If you want to use this doodle, you can by all means.  Do let me know if you plan to at jamuna.inamdar@gmail.com and if you wish to have a high res image :)

It was not the most enjoyable of sketching tasks but I did persist and did so voluntarily as it did offer something to "do" in particular moments. 


The following words, woven into preciousness by Gulzaar, do not describe my sketch in any way nor does my sketch commit the folly of wanting to capture their essence. The sketch is far too barren than the vivid imagery and feelings the words evoke.  The two will show on one plane here simply because the words were shared about the same time as I completed the sketch and the first line resonated with what I had put on paper...


Irrespective of the fit/misfit, the words are worth being shared:

’Ballimaran ke mohalle ki wo pechida dalilon ki si galiyan...

 The lanes of Ballimaran are convoluted that they are reminiscent of the criss-cross nature of a lawyer's questioning.

Samne taal ke nukkad par bateron ke kaseede

Right ahead in a corner there's a teak tree on which birds chirp and they seem like they are singing paeans of praise.

Gudgudati hui pan ki peekon mein wo daad wo wah wah

People can't get enough of listening to Ghalib's poetry. They are consuming Paan and smoking (gudgudati) hooka while they go wah wah on the verses...

Chand darwazon par latkehue boseeda se kuch taat ke parde

The place also has a few old and tattered (boseeda) jute made (taat) curtains

Ek bakri ke mamiyane ki awaz

And there's a goat which bleats

Aur dhundhlai hui shaam ke benoor andhere aise deewaron se muhn jod ke chalte hain yahan

The evening is devoid of light and the night too is not in its full glow. It's twilight. And if you notice closely, the shadows are slowly embracing the doors and the windows of the area. And soon they'll be gone...

Chooriwalan ke katre ki Badi Bi jaise apni buhjti hui aankhon se darwaze tatole’

... And while the shadows are merging with the night, In the little space of Choodiwalan, there's an old woman who is straining her dim eyes to scan the area, to scan the doors

Isee Benoor andheri see gali kaasim se Ek tarteep charagon ki shuroo hoti hain

Right here in this dim lit locality named Kasim, there's a series of lanterns

ek Kurane sukhan kaa safaa khultaa hain asadallah khan Ghalib kaa pata milta hain...

And here, the Kuran is recited like it never has never been recited before and right there is where Ghalib stays....