Festival Of Words 1- Raavi Paar by Gulzar

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People often ask me who my favorite author is. That’s one of the easiest topics for book lovers to start off a conversation. The perfect ice-breaker. I have tried that as well. But always I have received the same answer, “I love many authors such as Rabindranath Tagore, J K Rowling, Jhumpa Lahiri and etc”.  It is as good as saying, “I love to listen to all kind of songs”. It sounds like a fake orgasm because what it actually means is that you are not actually an aficionado of good music! No one can possibly love all “kind” of songs. You will be faithful to some genre. I love instrumentals and although I love listening to Marc Anthony, and Jagjit Singh. When someone asks me what music I like I reply with Ghazals. You cannot possibly love every author or every book. You will always be faithful to one of them. So, every time someone answers that they love many authors, I end the conversation with a tongue-tied silence.

Yes, I am a voracious reader, I am. I love reading novels, biographies, poetry, short stories and I would like to write about a man who is a poet, filmmaker, writer of songs, books and dialogues, an inspiration and a legend, his lifetime achievements include a Grammy and an Oscar and many best sellers – He is Sampooran Singh Kalra, known popularly by his pen name Gulzar. Gulzar Sa’ab is one of the best things to happen to Urdu and Hindi. He is considered one of the greatest shayar’s of Urdu post Ghalib.

Gulzar – the master story teller

Raavi Paar is a collection of short stories that touches your soul like a breeze and leaves an impression on your heart like footprints on sand. Gulzar was the only reason I picked up this book. If you like short stories and you are a fan of Manto, Chugtai or any Indian author from the partition era then Gulzar merges the noise and silence of partition so beautifully that you can see the characters coming to life. As I was reading this story my heart started beating faster, as I neared its end my temples grew tense, eyes became wet and I held myself tight dreading that something bad is going to happen and it did. It took me some time to get back to the book trying to accept that it is just a story. When an author can make you feel what he has written then he has done his job beautifully and that is what Gulzar Sa’ab does all the time.

Gulzar – the poet

Gulzar, is a poet above all things. His style marks a sensitivity that is best reflected through his writing and treatment of films. He is one of those sensitive people whose work is laced with the lyrical but psychologically adept examination of human sensibilities. He rules millions of hearts with his soulful poetry and lyrics. Through his poetic expression, he takes us through a myriad of emotions such as love, despair, heartbreak, desires, bonding, void, and so much more. It’s a magical experience to hear him recite poetry.

Here are 3 of my favourite lines written by Gulzar Sa’ab

लकीरे है तो रहने दो /किसी ने रूठ कर गुस्से में शायद खीच दी थी,/ इन्ही को अब बनायो पाला और आयो कबड़ी खेलते है

These lines that divide us, let them be. Someone must have etched them in a fit of rage. Let us use them to divide the field into two halves and play Kabaddi.

जहां तेरे पैरों के कँवल गिरा करते थे/ हँसे तो दो गालों में भँवर पड़ा करते थे/ तेरी कमर के बल पे नदी मुड़ा करती थी/हंसी को सुनके तेरी फ़सल पका  करती थी/ छोड़ आए हम वो गलियां

Where your lotus-like feet used to tread And your dimples would resembles storms when you smiled Where the river used to meander over the curves of your waist Where the crops would ripen to the sound of your laughter, We have left those streets…

मौत तू एक कविता है, मुझसे एक कविता का वादा है मिलेगी मुझको/डूबती नब्ज़ों में जब दर्द को नींद आने लगे/ज़र्द सा चेहरा लिये जब चांद उफक तक पहुचे दिन अभी पानी में हो, रात किनारे के करीब/ना अंधेरा ना उजाला हो, ना अभी रात ना दिन/जिस्म जब ख़त्म हो और रूह को जब साँस आऐ/ मुझसे एक कविता का वादा है मिलेगी मुझको

O death! You’re like poetry,  And I’ve been promised by a poem, that it shall be mine. As the pulse (of life) recedes, the pain & suffering go to (an eternal) sleep And a yellowish (young) moon starts to rise and reach its zenith. The day is yet to sink in water, as the night waits, nigh, to the shore. It’s not dark, it’s not bright, it’s neither midnight nor high noon and as the body loses material, the free soul gets seeped with (fresh) air.

I am taking part in The Write Tribe Festival of Words #5 from 10th – 16th July 2016 

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