hum hoge kaamyab ek din…

Disclaimer 1: people who love serious humour must read this. People who love humour should read this. And the people who love serious writings may also spend some time here. People, who are less aware of their surrounding, shouldn’t waste time here. 
Read it in a lighter mode.

Category: Satire

Dear Supreme court of India,

First I want to tell you my own story and hope next time you would consider it in your decision making.
I grew up as most of the kids of this country do. I grew up playing all those locally devised games that cost nothing. I grew up in the school where education also cost on my dad’s pocket almost to nothing. I grew up in so disguisedly hypocrite society that I took it for real. Today I want to bring it to your fine sense of wisdom that what I am today is because of the deceit that our well cultured society had inflicted upon me.

I was born as everyone comes to this world- a nude crying kid. Soon after birth, my one identity of nudity was taken away and I was wrapped in cloths. I also almost lost my second identity when I was around two years. I had stopped crying since I had grasped another identity from the surroundings. I could express myself in words explicitly rather than crying. Then I grew further and was sent to school to learn more words or to understand my identity with more clarity. My third identity lasted longer. I was in third standard and still was a kid. I, Saumya and other students of my class did together all the fun what all kids do. Play- fight and kiddy talks. Then I grew up further. When after the summer vacations of June I came back to school on 1^st July, in fourth standard, I felt different. I felt losing my third identity, a kid, that I had enjoyed so much in previous years. I felt I was no more kid. I changed. Saumya changed. I became boy and Saumya became a girl. Kiddy talks became boys’ talks. Now the class of same students wasn’t a flock of kids but a coed system of girls and boys.  Suddenly, the class which used to be ordered as the squares of checkerboard had divided into two colours- boys and girls, and the checkerboard got the redesign as two contrasting strips. We were growing. Society was doing its chores of making us learn our great culture and social values, and the families at their level boasted of ancestral legacy to be carried with. I grew conservative or we grew conservative.   

One more change occurred to me when I got to the fifth standard. I felt the first beat of my heart. It desired for Saumya. Initially I thought I got some disease because neither society nor school or family had told me about such tickling feeling. I didn’t tell anyone this because, when I tried to search out it, I came to know not to disclose such things to anyone. I grew all fifth standard with a secret and sensation buried in my heart. If it was an identity of a boy, so I was.

Then I got to the next class of six standard. The sensation at the door of heart was still wafting inspired by a romantic bollywood flick that I had watched on Sunday on my black and white TV. The scene of hero and heroine making love was whirling in my mind and I couldn’t wait longer. On Monday itself I kissed at the Saumya’s cheek and forwarded my left cheek to her for doing the same. But she stamped a slap. I didn’t felt offended. If I had tried a scene from a movie, she might have seen some other where a villain tries to kiss the heroine and she slaps. I thought. But I felt offended that a hero mistakenly taken as villain. Before I could make her understand, I found her with her father at my door in the evening on same day when my father called me in anger mixed crisped voice. And then one more slap, heavier one, was stamped on the other cheek. “Ye hi seekh rahe ho school me? Ese banoge kamyaab?” (This is what you are learning in school? This way you would be successful) he rebuked harshly and raised his hand to slap me again. I closed my eyes and vowed- ‘I’ll show you myself successful’ then I opened my eyes when didn’t receive the second slap. He had stopped at the last moment. Then I realized I had done a sin equivalent to one slap punishment. “Say sorry. She is your sister.”  My father scolded me. I said sorry at once not to face other slap for no reason. But I couldn’t understand how she was my sister. Then I asked right away, “You never told me?” “Everything is not taught. Can’t you learn it yourself?” he scolded again.

It took some time to get used to the idea and now in my class I had as many sisters as number of girls. But I wasn’t forgotten my vow as well as my father’s words and was still in search of what is taught at school to make one successful? And I could find it. The only mantra for success that my school talked about was – hum hoge kaamyab ek din… mann me hai vishwas, pura hai vishwas.. hum hoge kaamyab ek din. These were the only lines where comes the word- ‘Kaamyab’. I though the mystery of success was hidden in its words like our Sanskrit shlokas have. I started deciphering it and reread it as- hum ho gay kaamyab ek din i.e. May we be successful gays one day. I have faith; I have complete faith in me. May we be successful gays one day. My docile intelligence had found out the hidden mystery of success.

I had read a poem in fourth standard- ‘work while you work, play while you play. That is the way to be happy and gay.’ Since then I knew this word gay and its meaning as happy. But I couldn’t understand the relation between happy and success. I was so happy that time but I had no success as realized by my father. Then I found the other meaning of the word in dictionary. “OMG” I exclaimed. “Success lies in being gay” I had come to the conclusion. Then at the first instance this idea shook me completely but this was what my father wanted me to become. I had to become successful, I had to control on my natural instinct. I had to forget all the feelings for Saumya. Then I strictly follow the song- Teri galiyo mein na rakhe gay kadam, aaj ke baad. i.e. I swear this gay wouldn’t ever walk to your lane.

 Now I had to receive the same feeling that I used to get from Saumya’s smile from the smiles of Vicky, golu, sonu, mohit, sonu and many more boys from the class. But how it could be possible? But I had to be successful. I had to keep my promise made to myself.

Then in a religious rally I heard the slogan- ‘ek bane gay, nek bane gay’. “OMG” it was inevitable to come to my mouth. “They are calling for gays? Hey gays, let’s unite and be good person.” Society needs of gays- I concluded.

After so much self control and restrain I could detach myself from the feeling that a girl used to stimulate in me. Then I reached a state of saint who has no libido for any of gender. But my journey was half complete. I had to develop a different taste. I had to chose someone from the boys and love him.

Today when I am successful in life, you are jealous of my success and blaming me of committing of culpable offence.

When you have accepted, with no protest, my all identities, why not this one more for which I fought so much with myself?

If my identity is menace to the society, then define it in different way, in some religiously stereotype manner, for a hypocrite society as I am part of society and I definitely have an identity. I define myself as a man who has attain a higher stage of life where he sees all women as mothers or sisters, who has transformed his libido to higher taste. (And don’t talk about higher taste) And it’s enough to put me at higher social level than that of unjailed Asaram. I think this saint like identity of mine must be acceptable.

If you see my manhood is waste as it doesn’t contribute for the population growth of nation, then on the same basis, a saint must be identified as of my category.

By the way who is worried for the contribution of one in the growth of population in a nation when we are already over-populated?

And the last but not least, removal of article 377 may prove a strong instrument to population control in long run.

Though this is my story, but Guddu, Bittu and Teetu also have something similar to say. So attaching their names also to this letter only.

Thank you

Yours Faithfully,

Lallan, Guddu, Bittu, Teetu (LGBT)

Disclaimer2: This article has been written with the intention to show the hypocrisy of our society in humorous way. All the matter apart from the factual is fictious and doesn’t relate to the author's personal or social life in any way.  

आज का सपना

आज सुबह उठा तो, सबसे पहले मैंने लैपटॉप खोला औऱ लिखने बैठ गया. आज का सपना. शायद ऐसी कोई नींद नहीं जिसमे सपने न आये हो. पर आज का सपना थोडा अलग सा था कि मैंने इसे लिखना बेहतर समझा. 

मेरी बहन के कहने पर मैं उस अनजान शहर में आया था. उसको किसी धार्मिक rally में शामिल होना था. ये तो मुझे याद नहीं कि उस शहर तक हमे ट्रैन ने पहुचाया था या बस ने. हां, इतना जरुर याद है कि ट्रैन भी उस यात्रा का हिस्सा रही थी. कुछ सामन मैं ट्रैन में भूल गया था. जब तक मुझे याद आया, ट्रैन जा चुकी थी. औरे उसके बाद scene बदल जाता है. सपने होते ही ऐसे हैं. बिखरे हुए से, अधूरे से, ऐ वै कुछ भी, समझ से परे. और उस नए scene के साथ ही मैं अपनी अपनी बहन के साथ इस नए शहर की चौखट पर खड़ा था.  कीचड भरी सड़को ने मेरा स्वागत किया व समाज की जिम्मेदारी और सरकार की मक्कारी का नमूना बखूबी पेश किया. तभी मेरी बहन ने बैग से एक address निकाला और 'यहाँ जाना है' कहते हुए मेरे हाथ में थमा दिया.

थोड़ी देर में कीचड भरी सड़क को कूदते फांदते उस पते पर पहुच गए. एक औरत ने दरवाजा खोला. मैं तो नहीं जानता था पर मेरी बहन उन्हें जानती थी और पहली बार इल रही थी. कोई दूर की जान पहिचान थी.  मैं उसको वहाँ छोड़कर, नए शहर बदतर सड़को पे चलने लगा. Scene बदला. मुझे एक पुराना दोस्त मिला. वो भी उसी शहर में रहता था. मुझे नहीं पता था. वो मुझे अपने घर ले गया जहाँ पहले से ही और दोस्त लोग बैठे थे. आधा दर्जन से ऊपर. शायद सब मेरे इंतज़ार में. उन सब के चेहरे अभी भी याद हैं. उनकी बाते भी याद हैं. उठने के बाद भी दिल में एक ताज़ी ख़ुशी अभी भी बरकरार है. चाहे सपने में ही मिला, पर मिलकर अच्छा लगा था. feeling तो अभी भी ऐसी ही है जैसे वास्तव में उन सब को गले से कस के आ रहा हूँ. ऐसे अनुभव कभी कभी एहसास कराते हैं की ये जिंदगी भी कोई एक सपना मात्र तो नहीं. खैर ! Scene  फिर से बदला, दोस्तों को bye बोल चुका था. शाम का वक़्त होने को था और मैं फिर किसी अनजान बसती की अनजान गली में घूम रहा था. तभी अचानक एक शोर सुनाई दिया. लोगो के चीखने चिल्लाने की आवाज़. एक बड़ा झुण्ड बढ़ा चला आ रहा था गली की ओर, मेरी ओर. झुण्ड को देख ये समझने में कुछ देर न लगी की ये धार्मिक कसाइयों का समूह था. गली में खेलते बच्चो को अपनी ओर खीचा ओर पास वाले घर में घुस गया. भले ही झुण्ड का रंग मेरे मस्तिष्क से मेल खाता हो, पर मैंने धार्मिक कायर होना बेहतर समझा ओर अंदर से कुण्डी लगा ली. औऱ करता भी क्या?  आगे क्या हुआ मुझे याद नहीं. हाँ, बस मुझे मेरी बहन की चिंता थी क्योंकि उस वक़्त वो किसी rally में रही होगी. मैं उसकी सलामती के लिए बस भगवान् से दुआएं मांग सकता था. औऱ मुझे कुछ याद नहीं. न ही बेबस चीखें, न ही वो बर्बर दृश्य. शायद मेरे कान वो चीखे नहीं सुनना चाहते थे औऱ न ही आँखे उस नृशंश मंजर को बेबसी से निहारना जो धर्म के नाम पर जन्मा होगा. 

Scene फिर से बदल जाता है. मैं एक बड़ी सी बिल्डिंग के अंदर हूँ. शायद कोई सरकारी संसथान, कोई स्कूल या कुछ ऐसा ही. वो एक राहत शिविर था, बेबस भाग्यवानों के लिए. नए शहर ने जहाँ मुझे बेबस होने का एहसास कराया, तो दूसरी औऱ दंगो की बजह से मैं भाग्यवान महसूस कर रहा था. आखिरकार मैं जिन्दा था. मैं उसके बारे में सोच ही रहा था कि उस जमावड़े में मैंने अपनी बहन को पा लिया. ज़िंदा. सुरक्षित. मैं खुश था.  औऱ दूसरे पल ही एक औऱ चेहरा उन सब लोगो में नज़र आया. एक लड़की, जिसको मैं  कुछ साल पहले ही मिला था. ये वो ही लड़की थी जिसकी पहली झलक ने ही मुझे प्रेम नामक तरंग का ज्ञान कराया था. जिसको देखते ही दिल कि ख़ुशी मुस्कराते होंठो से खुद-व-खुद बयां हो जाती थी. सपने में भी तो कुछ कुछ हमारे दिनों जैसे ही होते हैं. औऱ सपने में भी मैं उस तरंग को अपने भीतर संचरित होने से इंकार नहीं कर पाया. मैं मुस्करा रहा था. उसने भी मुस्करा कर मेरी मुस्कान का जबाब दे दिया. हमेशा कि तरह, आज भी बस इतनी सी ही बात हुई हम दोनों में. यह जानते हुए भी कि she is not available, she already have a boyfriend, मैं यह सोचते हुए मुस्करा रहा था -"कि जो भी हुआ अच्छा हुआ."

औऱ फिर मोबाइल के अलार्म ने मुझे नींद से जगा दिया.

उठने के बाद भी सब कुछ दिमाग में चल रहा था. सबसे ज्यादा याद था तो उसकी मुस्कान औऱ मेरा casual way में कह देना कि जो भी हुआ अच्छा हुआ. भले ही यह एक सपना था, पर जो भी हुआ था अच्छा नहीं हुआ था. कितने बेक़सूर लोग मारे गए होंगे उस दंगे में.

आखिर मुझे मिला क्या कि मैंने जो भी हुआ अच्छा हुआ वाली धारणा को स्वीकार कर लिया? बस दिल को गुदगुदाने वाला एक एहसास! औऱ इस हल्के से अहसास के लिए, जिसे मैं समझता हूँ कि झूट अहसास या छलावा कहना उचित होगा, मैंने उस निंदनीय घटना को  सही ठहरा दिया.

तब मेरे अंदर अनेक विचार उमड़ने लगते हैं. क्या आज का धर्म भी एक अहसास मात्र तो नहीं? या धर्मं को हम दिल को गुदगुदाने को उपकरण समझ बैठे हैं? धर्म का असली रूप पहचानने कि जरूरत. धर्म एक छलावा मत बनने दो.