An afterthought to Aurat

 I have been in permanent awe of the poem "Aurat" written by one of the giants of last century poets Kaifi Azmi, ever since I heard it the first time (you can find it here, along with a translation). The recent events of unimaginable cruelty perpetrated against Indian women made me revisit it and reflect over the ever-growing relevance of its philosophy. As I wondered to myself the progressive nature of his great verse, my thoughts found a resonance in the spirit of the original masterpiece. These are my verses, written in the same spirit as the original, but obviously no match for its eloquence.

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Beshak teri masoomiyat ko kuchla sabne
Teri ruswaiyon ka muzehka banaya sabne
Ashqon ke sailaab mein na ise behne dena
Jo aag mann mein jali, roshan use rehne dena
Tanhaiyon mein bhi jashn hi karna hai tujhe

Uth meri jaan mere saath hi chalna hai tujhe

Darr na tu apni takdeer se ab
Tujhe bhi azaad jeene ka hai har-haq
Khwahish-e-gair par aur tu kurbaan na ho
Apne wajood ki pehchann se anjaan na ho
Har saans mein ek umr ko jeena hai tujhe

Uth meri jaan mere saath hi chalna hai tujhe


---------------------Translation------------------

Though your innocence has been despoiled,
Your destruction has been ridiculed,
Don't let your tears wash away,
The fire that burns bright in your heart
Celebrate even in desolation,

Get up, my love, you have to walk with me

Don't fear what awaits as destiny
You have every right to live free
Don't sacrifice any more for wishes of others
Don't remain ignorant of your own identity
A life awaits you in every breath,

Get up, my love, you have to walk with me


                                                  -- Archana

Yay!

A paper on the project that I had been working on for almost three years got accepted today in a very decent journal. Super-relieved! And still in love with physics!

Yours confidentially!

I am beginning to feel that there are actually quite a lot of topics, which I would like to blog about without divulging my identity. This emotion is not borne out of fear of any kind but rather out of a concern of losing the objectivity of a discussion due to audience identifying/confusing my views with my personality (of course the new pieces will still be my views but it won't be like oh yeah! she would think like that because I know she is so and so...). Plus no one can deny that anonymity gives one much more independence of expression. At the same time I feel that maintaining even one blog requires a time commitment which I find hard to fulfill. So I need a show of hands from my blog-friends -- please take the opinion poll on the right and allow me to share your views on the matter.

Adieu Annus Academici

Dear academic new year (new year starts late for academicians, just like everything else!),

Welcome back! You have always been special for me, since as far back in the past, as I can care to remember. Though our relationship has been tenuous in the past few years with me not doing anything special to celebrate your birthday like before -- buying new books, clothes... stuff,  you have been continued to remain an eagerly awaited friend. Being a graduate student, my life does not particularly conform to any academic calendar with the "commencement" and "finals" strictly controlled by the unpredictable nature of my research. Nonetheless the emails announcing welcome receptions for my past-forward versions on campus (I am not on 10 mailing lists for nothing!), or the repeated reminders from the irritated registrar to register for another term yet again, have kept me informed of your whereabouts. It seemed to me as if our relationship evolved with every "student" year of my life and we moved on from being friends to lovers to a matured couple. We grew out from going into raptures on meeting each other after year long gaps into exchanging quick warm hugs as we crossed each other.

In fact, when I opted for graduate school, I was privately happy for being with you for a few more years by extending my student life. So, it has rather come as a shock  to realize that I will cease to be a part of your circle after all this time. You are probably going to be the last one which I can celebrate yet again as a student as I would have moved on into professional life before you come back next year! So you are really extra special. I never thought about this moment of bidding adieu to you as I never really thought of it coming. But next year, when I brush my bag and overturn it to empty it of the bits and pieces of last year, re-arrange the pens and pencils in its pocket (I don't remember why and when I stopped using a pencil-box!), label new folders and sort my papers... it would be to shake hands and share a smile with you for the wonderful time we spent together.

Love,
Archana

मेरे घर का पता ...

I got married recently. And as per the perplexing traditions of our society, I left my parent's home and entered a new home with a loving new family. Amidst all the celebrations and excitement, I wonder where do I belong now... This blog defines that for me. (I will include the English translation sometime later.)

जहां आसमान कुछ ज्यादा बड़ा सा है

जहां बोली का रंग थोड़ा खरा सा है

जहां धूप में कुछ ज्यादा गर्मी सी है

जहां हाथों में कुछ ज्यादा नरमी सी है

जहां फूटपाथ के किनारों पर पेड़ो के पत्ते कुछ धुन्दले से हैं

और सडकों पर बेवजह मेले से हैं

जहां गमलों के पौधों में कहीं एक गुलाब भी है

जहां रातों को छत से दिखता एक आफताब भी है

जहां पहलू में बंधा चाबी का एक गुच्छा है

जहां अचारों की अम्बियाँ का स्वाद अभी कच्चा है

जहां आँगन की धूप में कपड़े कुछ पके से हैं

और गिलहरियों के चबाये कुछ चने बिखरे से हैं

जहां चिरय्या के हौद में बाजरा अब भी रहता है

जहां सड़क पर राह चलता कभी भैया कहता है

जहां पेड़ों की ठंडी छांव है

गली के उसी किसी कोने में मेरा मकान है.

-----------------------------------------------Transliterated version--------------------------------------------

Jahaan aasman kuchh zyaada bada sa hai

Jahaan boli ka rang thoda khara sa hai

Jahaan dhoop mein kuchh zyaada garmi si hai

Jahaan haathon mein kuchh zyaada narmi si hai

Jahaan footpath ke kinaron par pedon ke patte kuchh dhundle se hain

aur sadkon par bewajah mele se hain

Jahaan gamlon ke paudhon mein kahin ek gulab bhi hai

Jahaan raaton ko chhat se dikhta ek aftaab bhi hai

Jahaan pehloo mein bandha chabi ka ek guchchha hai

Jahaan acharon ki ambiyan ka swad abhi kachcha hai

Jahaan aangan ki dhoop mein kapde kuchh pake se hain

aur gilhariyon ke chabaye kuchh chane bikhre se hain

Jahaan chirayya ke haude mein bajra ab bhi rehta hai

Jahaan sadak par raah chalta kabhi bhaiya kehta hai

Jahaan pedon ki thandi chhaaon hai

gali ke usi kisi kone mein mera makaan hai.


                                                              -- Archana

A Bedtime Story

I am not aware of the exact origin of this story but I heard it from my mother and it has stayed with me all these years.

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There was once a coastal town where the townspeople were dominantly fishermen who used to cast their nets in the waters to catch fish and sold it in the market to earn their living. They had been doing this for generations and gradually the fish population near the coast dwindled. This led them to decide that they need to go deeper into the seas to catch enough fish to subsist themselves. With time, they had also grown prosperous and had better boats and stronger nets to withhold the oceanic currents and hence they went off to their expeditions farther away from the coast. It improved matters and they started returning with bigger catches but they soon realized that the fish they caught did not taste the same as before. The customers who bought them complained that they tasted stale. The fishermen thought about it and figured out that earlier they used to catch fish near the coast and the time between the fishing and selling was relatively shorter. Now since they go farther from the coasts, by the time they return with the catch it didn’t remain fresh as before. So they all decided to carry large boxes of ice where they started storing the caught fish. Nonetheless, the customers still complained that the fish still would not taste as good as before. So it was decided that the fishermen would not kill the fish instantly but rather keep them alive till they reach the shore so that the dead fish would not go stale and tastes like the live fish off the coast. For this they carried large vats of water on their boats in which they dropped the fish caught in their nets. Now the fish remained alive till they reached the coast but, alas, the customers complained that something was missing and the fish would still not taste the same. This impelled a serious rethink among fishermen as this had started affecting their sales now. They observed that the fish in the large vats do not really swim around that much and hence they came up with a new idea. In the large vats, along with the small tasty fish they caught for food, they put a small shark. Due to the presence of the shark the small fish swam around furiously just as it did in the open ocean. Of course the shark would eat away some of the small fish but the fisherman still retained eighty percent of the catch. This is what they did and lo and behold, the customers said: wow, what fine fish you caught, it tastes just like before. And the fishermen were very happy.

Life is just like the small fish and the shark represents the various problems we face at different turns of our life. These problems keep us on our toes, in absence of which our life may lose its juice just like the small fish.

War on terror turns a corner

It is quite risky to write anything about Mr. Laden in general. Not least because he was the biggest goon of the world and the organization he spearheaded still lurks in some murky hole. More importantly, in view of recent developments the number of new snippets on his death far outnumber his alleged sightings while he was still alive (which is really saying something) running the bigger risk of sounding stale or redundant (or both)!

But I am ready to take this huge personal risk on this momentous occasion in the history of modern world. This is because it is so important to believe and record this event. Even though Al-Qaeda still survives, maybe as a mere shadow of its former powerful self, and the terror it perpetrated has metamorphosed into a faceless form defying boundaries - impossible to be contained within the 18 feet high walls of the triangular compound in which its head was captured; the capture and assassination of its head had become far too important to assert the 'don't mess with us' attitude of any human being who despises the dangerous world it wanted to bequeath our generations to come. This war has come a long way from being a struggle between good and evil and attained the status of a battle for survival. It has become the fight for the right to live, the right to choose and the right to progress.

The circumstances and details of his capture also underscore a significant shift in the way we perceive international diplomacy. The fact that he was sniffed out on Pakistan soil by USA does not undermine the tenet of sovereignty, rather adds a corollary to the idea of a free nation. The right to existence and independence as a nation or an individual is not absolute but comes riddled with responsibility, in absence of which it becomes obsolete. If you harbor a terrorist in your house, it can be bombed without issuing you a memo on a on a paper carrying official stamp and duly signed by the local municipal authorities. The fact or fiction about Pakistan's establishment being oblivious from start (= osama being right under their nose) to finish ( = US choppers, how and when ??? ) does not really stand its ground as a counter-argument for more than one reasons. It, in fact, gives us a cause for even greater worry and calls for more stringent international vigilance for Pakistan. A nuclear-capable state full of incompetent oblivious authorities, with "helpful" agencies like ISI at close call can be an inviting haven for any terrorist seeking refuge.

Pakistan will do well to learn from the recent uprisings in the middle east which have ushered the Islamic world into an era of International liberalism after a long winter. The extremist organizations like Al-Qaeda were conspicuous in the recent Arab spring by their absence. Its opportune coincidence with the killing of global mascot of intolerance has thrown us a rare opportunity to uproot the diffuse, yet weakening, global network of terror from its very roots.