Sunday, 16 December 2012
Tuesday, 11 December 2012
HALF ALIVE
By: Dr. O.P.Sharma
“Sarathi”
Translated from Dogri
to English by: Col. Shivnath
In one corner of the road crossing lay a half alive man. A few days back when he had hobbled to fall at
this spot, many boys had collected in no time. None of the boys had a book in
his hand. Boys with books in their hands always scared him. The boys mad a lot
of noise. Soon several people joined them and standing in a circle around him,
started enjoying the tamasha.
As a matter of fact, none of them knew that the fallen man
had himself cut off his feet and then made an attempt to walk. He, like many
others, was in fact, the victim of a joke. Somebody had told him that, in order
to join the race of present times one had to hack away one’s feet; one can run
faster then. But that somebody who had told him this did not tell him that the
feet that were to be cut off, were different from the feet on which one walked.
And he himself could not think that one should not cut the feet with which one
walked and should not walk with feet that were meant to be cut. He had kept
looking at his feet for a long time, thinking that these feet which carried the
weight of his body, had never allowed him to walk. He could get nowhere. He
could never participate in any race. It occurred to him to cut away his feet
and run. He hacked both of them and broke into a run. While the wounds were
fresh, he did not realize that he had no feet and was running. But after a
while, when the heat and speed slackened, he fell down. And he fell on the crossroads
where just in front, was a shop of pictures displaying pictures of several nude
women. Among them was a large picture in which some devata had cut off the head
of a rakshasa and the torso of the one without the head was running.
Perhaps this was the reason why he was still breathing. If a
rakshasa without a head can run why can’t a man without feet.
He is no more a tamasha for the people. Because lying there
for so long his limbs have become lifeless, his legs have turned like logs and
his hand have become senseless, with occasional bouts of a burning sensation.
After falling at the cross roads and with the slow rotting
of the body, he has begun to feel that his city is a strange place. It is
becoming stranger. Its ways are becoming topsy turvy. It is true that he has
never helped anyone to his feed, has never accosted anyone. But he has sensed
the malodour of a rotting man. He has shouted that a man, who falls, becomes
senseless and starts rotting and should be removed to some forest. Now looking
at the picture, he is seeing other things too. Nobody is bothered that he is
dying, that he will die and rot and stink. The stink will spread. Germs will
disperse. An epidemic will spread.
There was not a single look of concern for him. Not a word
about him. Otherwise there was a lot of word-ban-dying and title tattle at the
crossing. Many voices. Much toing and froing . He was able to catch snatches of
conversation. When he tried to follow one thing, some new thing came up like a
new wave drowning the old one.
He had been a hakim. He had a feeling that he had only been
playacting as a hakim, wearing the mask of a hakim. Then it was a matter of
making a living. Now it was a matter of death. He should not think of the lies
he had lived. He understood nothing of pulse rate, of breath count, of lungs
and liver, of disease. He had been treating people superficially and through
this had been trying to pick patients pockets.
Quite some time ago, a practioner like him had told him -
“The biggest cure of a person like him is gold and diamond.” He had joined in
with a loud guffaw. “If a person has gold and diamond, where is the need for
practicing hakimi?”
The other hakim had got exasperated. Don’t you know that
these days you can’t get gold and diamond dirt cheap?”
“What did you say?” he had jumped up from his straw mat,
How? Where?”
The other hakim, one of whose eyes was always blinking,
winked with that eye and said, “By filling up a small bottle with dust and
putting a label over it.”
“Yes, I have got it. Powdered gold. Powdered diamonds. But
even after doing all this, I am not able to rum fast like the others…..
“You want genuine gold and genuine diamonds/ mixing dust and
selling dust, my fingers and toes have developed cracks.”
“Have as much gold as you wish?”
“But where from?”
“Forget about where and how. Just gold, cheap like dust. For
less that half the price. Pay today and get the biscuits tomorrow.”
Next day he was looking at his stiff fingers when his wife passed
by. Going a short distance she turned back, came and sat beside him. A whiff of
scent floated from her towards him. Never before had such a whiff come from his
wife at any time before, day or night, never.
“If you need anything I shall fetch it for you.” She said so
sweetly and lovingly that it occurred to him to tell her, “Give me the curse of
dying.”
“Call him to me. I want to talk to him,” he said instead.
Meanwhile some vagabonds and rogues had collected around
them, staring at the woman.
“Whom should I call?” the woman said casting her eyes from
side to side.
“My hands are of no use. Only my eyes can indicate. There is
still life in them. There, that man,’ and he moved his eyes in the direction of
a man.
“That man? All right. I’ll call him”
The woman changed colour and went and came back with that
man. He tried to shout but the movement sent streaks of pain through his being.
That man laughed loudly, putting his arm around the woman’s shoulder and said,
“You perhaps want to say that when this woman was not
faithful to you, how can she be faithful to me? But, there is pleasure in being
taken for a ride, my friend. You have experienced the rub. Now let me
experience it. Let me tell you, however, that it was she who said that a woman
couldn’t live with a man who had no feet.” Something else had also struck him
as strange. Close to the big bookstore, there is a butcher’s shop. A part of
the wall in between is uncovered. The city is busy all the twenty four hors but
sometimes it gets spells of stillness for an hour or so. That day also, in that
hour of stillness, a bare-bodied man tiptoed to the wall, pasted a poster on it
stealthily and then looked around. Seeing him lying there, he approached him
and sat down beside him. “Look, don’t tell anybody that a poster has been
pasted here.’
“Whom would I tell?” he asked
“Anybody! Any government Official! Any policeman!”
“What can I tell? I don’t know you at all.”
“People say like that. But if I am caught, I am sure to kill
you before I get caught.” Saying this, the bare bodied man disappeared in the
darkness of the night.
Morning had crept in. People started appearing, first in
ones and twos and then in large numbers. They read the poster and began to talk
about it.
“There are strange things written here,” he heard somebody
say. The poster read:
” I am a poster. Man today has loaded me with many tasks. I search for the missing. I provide cures to people. Auction of bungalows and auction of honour whilte lies and black truths. But what you find smitten on me today, is all falsehood. It is a conspiracy to lead you astray. When my user inscribed me, I had pleaded before him also. But in this kurukshetra, who listens to the voice of a beetle?”
” I am a poster. Man today has loaded me with many tasks. I search for the missing. I provide cures to people. Auction of bungalows and auction of honour whilte lies and black truths. But what you find smitten on me today, is all falsehood. It is a conspiracy to lead you astray. When my user inscribed me, I had pleaded before him also. But in this kurukshetra, who listens to the voice of a beetle?”
Some of the men were laughing. Some were expressing wonder
at what was written n the poster. Then three or four persons came to him. One
of them raised his eyebrow and asked, “Who has pasted it?”
“A man came and put it there”.
“Who? What sort of a man was he?” asked the second one.
“This man was exactly like you. There was one difference,
however. You are dressed. He was naked”.
The second man lifted his hands to strike. The first one
stopped him. “He is already dead. To strike a dead person is against the law of
this land.”
By now he had begun to feel that along with his knees and
elbows, his intestines and chest had also started rotting and after a short
while, his whole body would get decomposed and putrefied. But his eyes will
watch the whole show. His eyes will remain conscious till the end, alive.
Two nights back he had felt his eyes becoming heavy with
sleep. He had felt he did not have the strength in him to open them. But after
daybreak, his eyes had opened and he saw a line of people standing in front of
him. The line was so long that he could not see its beginning and end. He had
forgotten the spurts of pain. He felt an urge to enquire from somebody. Why
have these people fallen in a line? But before he could speak, two well-built
men standing in the queue picked up a lean man and threw out of the queue and
he fell on him.
He asked him. “What has happened? What are these people
standing in a queue doing?”
“They are ding something very important. Now all things of
day to day use are sold at one shore-clothes, food items, condiments, oils,
medicines, greetings, hunger and nakedness-at a cheap rate. It is a year since
I have been trying to get into the queue but have not been able to reach the
store. When I get into the queue, some muscleman comes along and throws me
out.”
The man got up in the twinkling of an eye and began to
struggle to get into the line again.
There was a big commotion at the medical shop which sported
a mile long board announcing cures for all diseases. Something appeared to have
happened. People collected and then scattered quickly. A labourer with a rope
on his shoulders came up to him, sat down and started, grinding his teeth.
“What happened at the medical shop?” he asked the labourer.
“Medical treatment. Through treatment. A man has died.”
“A man has died? But men kept dying. They died during my
time also. What is strange about it?” he asked.
“What is strange is the refusal of relatives to own
relationship with the dead man. The hakim was shouting loudly calling for his
relatives. The relatives were standing loudly calling for his relatives. The
relatives were standing there close by.
But without responding. Eventually things came out. Now they sat they
are afraid of the dead body. Some labourer should remove the body and dispose
it of.”
“Why don’t you go? Aren’t you a coolie? Don’t you want to
earn some wages?”
“This is the point of dispute. His relatives, own off
springs are afraid to touch him. And they want to give no more than a rupee for
lifting the body. A quintal heavy body and just one rupee?”
But when the hakim comes and settles a certain amount with
the labourer, he goes along to carry the corpse. It occurs to him that he
should settle some terms with the coolie for the disposal of his own body.
The man who has cut off his feet, who wants to run, who is
stinking, is lying half alive at the crossing the person who and wants to
engage a coolie for the disposal of his own body, is me. That hakim too is me.
Monday, 3 December 2012
Saturday, 24 November 2012
किस को अवसर है समेटे मुझे आ कर कोई
मैं हूँ हारा हुआ बिखरा हुआ लश्कर कोई
मैं आकारण ही यहाँ फैल गया हूँ कैसा
मुझ को आकाश संभाले न समंदर कोई
मैं तो इक ग्रन्थ पुराना हूँ बुझे शब्दों का
मैं भी जागूँ जो उभारे मेरे अक्षर कोई
स्वप्न के खेत हैं और नींद के नगमों की फसील
आये इस शहर में किस ओर से दिनकर कोई
देखते देखते इस शहर का क्या हश्र हुआ
दूर तक धड़ है धड़ों पर नहीं है सर कोई
यूं हकारत से न देखो मैं नहीं कोई खुदा
प्यार की भूख हूँ भर दे मुझे घर घर कोई
'सारथी' कान खड़े हैं यहाँ दीवारों के
बात कहने के लिए ढूँढ लो अवसर कोई
मुझ को आकाश संभाले न समंदर कोई
मैं तो इक ग्रन्थ पुराना हूँ बुझे शब्दों का
मैं भी जागूँ जो उभारे मेरे अक्षर कोई
स्वप्न के खेत हैं और नींद के नगमों की फसील
आये इस शहर में किस ओर से दिनकर कोई
देखते देखते इस शहर का क्या हश्र हुआ
दूर तक धड़ है धड़ों पर नहीं है सर कोई
यूं हकारत से न देखो मैं नहीं कोई खुदा
प्यार की भूख हूँ भर दे मुझे घर घर कोई
'सारथी' कान खड़े हैं यहाँ दीवारों के
बात कहने के लिए ढूँढ लो अवसर कोई
Saturday, 10 November 2012
Sunday, 4 November 2012
Thursday, 1 November 2012
Wednesday, 17 October 2012
Monday, 15 October 2012
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
Monday, 1 October 2012
हमारे समाज में पैंसठ हजार लोगों में एक संगीतकार, चित्रकार, नर्तक और मूर्तिकार है । और पैंतीस हजार की गणना में एक आदमी वैज्ञानिक है । तुम्हे इस अनुपात पर आश्चर्य नहीं होना चाहिए कि कम है । इसीलिए इन सब को समाज देश और राष्ट्र की निधि, गौरव और पथप्रदर्शक भी माना जाता है। सभ्यता- संस्कृति के रक्षक और लब्ध प्रतिष्ठित भी कई अवसरों पर कहा गया है । ...........परन्तु प्रश्न यह है कि यह सब कुछ जो कहा गया है अथवा कहा जाता है वह सत्य है ? कुछ यदार्थ है इस में ? क्या आज का संगीतकार, चित्रकार, नर्तक और मूर्तिकार भारतीय संस्कृति को जानता है ? क्या आज का वैज्ञानिक और ललित कलाकार जो कुछ सृजन कर रहा है वह कहीं पर संस्कृति के धरातल से जुड़ा है ? अथवा कहीं पर सभ्यता कि आत्मा के दर्शन उस में हो रहें हैं ?............... तुम्हारे विचार में यदि पैंसठ हजार में एक ललित कलाकार है तो उस में मजनू कितने होंगे ? कितने कला के प्रति उन्मादित, उद्वेलित और दीवाने होंगे? और कला ही को, वाद्य यन्त्र और छैनी-हथोड़े और रंग और तूलिका को खाते पीते ओढ़ते बिछाते हैं और कला को ही बोलते और सुनते हैं, कितने हैं वो ?
Friday, 28 September 2012
Sunday, 23 September 2012
"प्रिय बंधु... कभी कभी तुम्हारे भीतर भी सर्व को जानने, सारी सृष्टि को देखने की प्रबल इच्छा पैदा होती है । यदि सारी सृष्टि को देखने कि इच्छा है, सारी सृष्टि के साथ वार्तालाप करने और इस से भी अधिक यदि सारी सृष्टि का स्पर्श करने कि इच्छा है तो बंधु, कर्ता को जानना कारण को जान लेना हैं । प्रभु के तीन गुणों के नाटक को समझना है तो मात्र प्रभु को जान लो । क्योंकि प्रभु ही ज्ञान हैं , वही स्पर्श हैं । वही श्रवण और वाक् हैं । उन का ध्यान ही सर्वोपरि ज्ञान है । "
Saturday, 22 September 2012
रचनाकार --- गुरुदेव (डा.) ओ. पी .शर्मा "सारथी"
मेरे दिल में तू ही तू है, तेरी ही याद आती है
वतन मेरे मुहब्बत आज तेरी रंग लाती है
मेरे सपने तुम्ही से हैं, मेरी ताबीर भी तू है
हजारों रंग तेरे हैं मेरी तस्वीर भी तू है
वतन मेरे तेरी उल्फत मुझे रह रह जगाती है
वतन मेरे मुहब्बत ..............................
जुनूँ सर पर है तेरी याद का, कुछ कर दिखायेंगे
जिधर कोई नहीं जाता, तेरी दीवाने जायेंगे
वही है सुख शहादत की तरफ जो राह जाती है
वतन मेरे मुहब्बत ..............................
वो रिश्ते जो कि तुझ से हैं हमें तो काम उन से है
तेरे कुर्बान हो जाएँ हमारा नाम उन से है
हमारे दिल में तेरे नाम कि लौ जगमगाती है
वतन मेरे मुहब्बत ..............................
मिले दौलत तो ठुकरा दें मिले जन्नत तो क्या हासिल
मिले जो नाम और शौहरत, यह सब बेकार लाहासिल
मेरे प्यारे वतन तेरे बिना यह जान जाती है
वतन मेरे मुहब्बत ..............................
Wednesday, 19 September 2012
Saturday, 15 September 2012
Tuesday, 11 September 2012
प्रिय बंधु! तुम्हे यह विदित है कि कर्म करना है। कर्म कर के थकना है । और फिर विश्राम करना है । विश्राम कर के कार्य की थकावट को दूर करना है और फिर कार्य करना है । यह एक कार्यक्रम है जो चल रहा है । और तुम्हे हर क्षण इस का आदेश मिल रहा है । क्योंकि हर ओर यही हो रहा है इसलिए तुम इस के आगे सोच भी नहीं सकते । यह शरीर जीव और प्राण क्योंकि अनित्य है इसलिए यह व्यय होते हैं । और उपचार करने पर यह फिर से कार्य की क्षमता प्राप्त कर के व्यस्त हो जाते हैं । मुझे यह कहना है कि एक तीसरी स्थिति उत्पन्न करो वह है विश्राम के क्षणों में कार्य करने की और कार्य ही के क्षणों में विश्राम करने की । तुम जब लक्षित हो । और उधेश्य के हेतु जान लड़ाए हुए हो तो यह बात संस्कारगत है कि तुम्हे तब तक करना है जब तक तुम पूरे थक नहीं जाते और उधर लक्ष्य कि प्राप्ति नहीं हो जाती । सामाजिक भाषा में इसे संघर्ष कहते हैं । जिस के अर्थ नहीं निकले जा सकते । मुझे आज तक इस शब्द का अर्थ ही समझ नहीं आया । ऐसा भी संभव है कि मुझे ही कभी संघर्ष करना ही न पड़ा हो । परन्तु लक्ष्य कि प्राप्ति पूरा थकने पर या अधुरा थकने पर होती है यह बात मुझ पर अस्पष्ट सी है । मेरा अनुभव है कि जब भी मैं और तुम या कोई अन्य आधे संकल्प से, आधे सत्य से, आधी अधूरी निष्ठा और आधी अधूरी श्रद्धा से कार्य करेगा तो वह शीघ्र शक्ति खो कर थक जाएगा। थकेगा वही जो हाँ और नहीं के मध्य फंसा हुआ, आशा और निराशा के बीच फंसा हुआ, ईमानदारी और बेईमानी के मध्य फंसा हुआ कार्य कर रहा है । जो सत्य असत्य के मध्य है उसे लक्ष्य कि प्राप्ति हो, यह संभव नहीं लगता है । क्योंकि असत्य अपने आप में, बेईमानी और स्वार्थ अपने आप में घोर प्रकार कि थकावटें हैं । शिथिलताएँ हैं । यह तो प्रारम्भ से ही व्यय हो चुकी होती हैं । और जो वस्तु पहले से ही खर्च है, अधूरी है वह तुम्हारे उद्यम को, पुरुषार्थ और श्रम को कैसे बचा सकती है और सुरक्षा के साथ साथ सामान्य स्थिति में कैसे रख सकतीं हैं ।
एक उत्कृष्ट क्षमता जो कार्य के साथ साथ तुम्हे भी स्वभाविक और प्राकृतिक बनाये रखती है, वह है कार्य को समर्पित चिंतन। अपनी पूरी शक्ति और एकाग्रता का केवल कार्य में ही होना। स्वयं कार्य ही हो जाना। स्वयं लक्ष्य और उधेश्य ही हो जाना। स्वयं ही एक ऐसी अंतहीन प्रक्रिया में परवर्तित हो जाना जिस में कर्ता और क्रिया की भिन्नता का अंत हो जाए ।
और वह तभी संभव है जब तुम मात्र वर्तमान में रहने का निरंतर प्रण करो । निरंतर प्रयास करो। निरंतर वर्तमान ही को अपने श्वासों में भर कर रखो । और जिस क्षण तुम्हे कुछ करना है वही क्षण पहला और अंतिम क्षण जान लो । जिस क्षण में तुम्हे जीना है वही क्षण तुम्हारा सर्वस्व हो जाए ।तुम्हारा और तुम्हारे कार्य का, कोई अतीत न हो, कोई भविष्य न हो । कोई परिणाम भी न हो । परिणाम, अतीत, भविष्य मात्र वर्तमान हो ।
और यदि तुम अपने जीवन के मूल की ओर पलटो तो यह जीवन मात्र वर्तमान है। मात्र 'अब' है । मात्र 'यही' है । मात्र 'वही' है । श्वास का एक क्षण है मात्र 'यही' है ।
मात्र एक ही श्वास का आना जाना और आने जाने के भीतर जो शून्य का क्षण है । आने जाने के भीतर जो एक रिक्तता उत्पन्न होती है वही जीवन है । तुम एक क्षण कि लिए अपनी नाड़ी पकड़ लो । और गिनो । एक ताल के बाद यदि दूसरा ताल न बजे तो जीवन देह सभी कुछ समाप्त । और आगे का ताल बज कर यदि आगे न बजे तो तुम समाप्त । तो सारा शरीर ही एक ताल के भीतर कि लय पर टिका है । वही लय वर्तमान की सूचक है । यदि उसी एक क्षण में रहा जाए । एक रिक्तता में रहा जाए । दो बजते हुए तालों के मध्य के शून्य में रहा जाए, तो वही वर्तमान की स्थिति होगी । और फिर हर शून्य बढ कर विकास कर के उर्जा का रूप धारण करेगा और फिर तुम्हे माधव के स्वर सुनाई देंगे -मा कर्म फल हेतु -------------------------यदि कर्म वर्तमान के एक रिक्त क्षण में हुआ है तो उस कर्म का भविष्य कहाँ है । और अतीत कहाँ है । फल की प्राप्ति के लिए तुम तब सोचोगे जब तुम्हे यह ज्ञान होगा कि कर्म का कहीं भविष्य भी है । परन्तु वास्तविकता यह है कि जब तुम्हारा अपना ही कोई भविष्य नहीं है तो तुम्हारे कर्म का क्या भविष्य हो सकता है । और जीवन का क्या भविष्य हो सकता है ।
आने वाले और गए क्षण के मध्य शून्य को ही जीवन कहते हैं । वही जीवन अथक है । पूर्ण शक्ति से भरा है ।
(परमश्र्द्ये गुरुदेव सारथी जी का यह लेख दैनिक कश्मीर टाईम्स में १५ सितम्बर १९९० में प्रकाशित हुआ )
- DrAnkur Gupta, RJ Atul and Nidhi Mehta Vaid like this.
Monday, 10 September 2012
रचनाकार... गुरुदेव (डा.) ओ. पी .शर्मा "सारथी"
मिलेगी पुत्र को सुविधा
अगर माँ भी सुखी होगी
सुखी सब जन तभी होंगे
कि जब धरती सुखी होगी
किसी माता को गम दे कर
सुखी संतान कब होगी
जो श्रद्धा ही न हो तो
ज़िन्दगी वरदान कब होगी
मिलेगी पुत्र को सुविधा
अगर माँ .......................
यह धरती माँ से ऊंची है
यही अनुभव कराना है
प्रशस्ति धरती माँ की है
यही सच्चा तराना है
न हो पहचान माँ की
पुत्र की पहचाब कब होगी
मिलेगी पुत्र को सुविधा
अगर माँ ....................
करें मेहनत करें उद्यम
कि रिश्ते प्यार के बांधे
करें अर्चन करें वंदन
धरा के मन्त्र को साधें
जो निर्धन भारती होंगे
तो माँ धनबान कब होगी
मिलेगी पुत्र को सुविधा
अगर माँ ....................
बने आराध्य धरती माँ
सभी आराधना में हों
सभी कर्मठ हों सच्चे हों
सभी इक साधना में हों
जो बालक भक्त ही न हों
तो माँ भगवान् कब होगी
मिलेगी पुत्र को सुविधा
अगर माँ ....................
कि जब धरती सुखी होगी
किसी माता को गम दे कर
सुखी संतान कब होगी
जो श्रद्धा ही न हो तो
ज़िन्दगी वरदान कब होगी
मिलेगी पुत्र को सुविधा
अगर माँ .......................
यह धरती माँ से ऊंची है
यही अनुभव कराना है
प्रशस्ति धरती माँ की है
यही सच्चा तराना है
न हो पहचान माँ की
पुत्र की पहचाब कब होगी
मिलेगी पुत्र को सुविधा
अगर माँ ....................
करें मेहनत करें उद्यम
कि रिश्ते प्यार के बांधे
करें अर्चन करें वंदन
धरा के मन्त्र को साधें
जो निर्धन भारती होंगे
तो माँ धनबान कब होगी
मिलेगी पुत्र को सुविधा
अगर माँ ....................
बने आराध्य धरती माँ
सभी आराधना में हों
सभी कर्मठ हों सच्चे हों
सभी इक साधना में हों
जो बालक भक्त ही न हों
तो माँ भगवान् कब होगी
मिलेगी पुत्र को सुविधा
अगर माँ ....................
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