Wednesday, April 10, 2013

येही खेल खेला है कई बार


मुडके देखना और फिर वहीँ बैठ जाना,
सोचना, गौर करना उस बात पर , उस हालात पर 
आँखें मूंदकर किसी ख़याल की तस्वीर बनाना , और आँखें खोलते ही उस तस्वीर के टुकड़े समेटना  
उठना, एक कदम आगे बढ़ाना
फिर एक छूटे टुकड़े को उठाने के लिए झुकना और वहीँ बैठ जाना
येही खेल खेला है कई बार, उसी राह पर मुडके देखा है कई बार

रुका तो नहीं जाता, लम्बा सफ़र तय करना है,
लेकिन उसी गली से होकर निकलता है आगे का रास्ता
कभी मुंह दूसरी तरफ करके, तो कभी आँखें मींच के निकलना
कभी किसी पुरानी याद की आढ़ में छुप जाना, कभी किसी नयी याद के सपने बुनते हुए निकलना
बस उस गली के वजूद को किसी तरह बेमतलब सा बना देना
पर फिर एक तिरछी नज़र चुराके देख लेना
येही खेल खेला है कई बार, उसी राह पर मुडके देखा है कई बार

रास्ते और भी हैं , पिछले कुछ दिनों में कई नयी सडकें बनी हैं
लेकिन उस गली में जो पैरों के निशान हैं वो किसी और पे नहीं
कभी उन निशानों पे कूद के निकल जाना,
गम हो गए निशानों को ढूँढना तो कभी नए निशान बनाना
उस गली पे अपने ही घर को ढूँढना , और फिर एक आहट सुनते ही वहां से रवां हो जाना
येही खेल खेला है कई बार, उसी राह पर मुडके देखा है कई बार

Sunday, April 7, 2013

That Happy Place !

Post the initial jitters, the butterflies in the stomach, the cracking knuckles and the bending knees; it is hard to resist the energy and the enthusiasm that oozes out of each nook and crevice. A harmless little joke scurries past you just when you are so engrossed in that interesting anecdote by the bedside. And just when you thought, OMG, this is the moment you have been dreading, a handclasp firms its grip between your fingers and promises that from here on things are just going to be better!

Nope, it ain’t any new hostel story that I am talking about or an ‘awesome-first-day-at-work’ narrative. This is a first eye account straight out of an OT, yep, an Operation Theatre...yes, the one in hospitals....absolutely the one where scalpels are sharpened and surgeries happen!

So I have had the chance of being hosted by the OT and its warmth for more than one occasion. And despite the ominous ‘beep-beep’ of several medical equipments and a whimper of pain here or a recovering gasp there, I just couldn’t miss the upbeat atmosphere which rubbed off onto me in minutes.  Perhaps it is the close proximity with life and death; the true understanding of the transient nature of the two, that gives those working in an OT their true zeal. For those working in there, it is just a job, a mundane everyday routine. But for those of us who go in there, we are gripped with a deep sense of uncertainty and hesitation. And for a chicken-heart like me, an OT is like a step closer to heaven (or hell, wherever my place is fixed!). You don’t understand a thing that is going to happen to you, you are under the affect of anaesthesia and have no clue what is it going to feel like when you open your eyes again. And this point, exactly here, is the one where these “OT-regulars” (I mean the surgeons, anaesthetists, nurses and everyone in there) infuse you with so much of your energy that you just let go of all your fears and anxiety. This is the moment when you truly ‘live’ life in the spirit that you ought to live it!

During my sojourns to the OT, I have totally given in to the zeal and ‘normalcy’ of the place and people who are up and about it. Might sound like a totally out-of-place thought, but I think it’s all about giving in to life (or death!) whatever it is! Why try and control things which ought to be left at their own pace and direction. Planning is a good thing but why put a condition of success on those plans? Expectations are fair to have but why camouflage the reality to see like what it ought to be than what it really is!?

If each moment you spend planning for the next and then dressing up the next for the way that soothes your eye the most, when will you actually live the moment? The ‘OT-regulars’ spend each moment doing their best, giving each moment the level of involvement it deserves. And THAT is what matters. So if you really are looking for an “art of living” course, try going to the OT once...er....as a casual visitor of course :)