Jan 6, 2012

WOH DIN


Halak mein atke hain kuch beete hue pal,
Saans le chale phir ussi kal.
Jahaan sardi ki dhoop si thi khushiyon ki garmaahat,
Jahaan koi na ho, phir bhi hamesha thi aahat.
Bas baithe baithe khud par hans lete zara,
Chaahe aasman gir jaaye, kisse thi parvaah?

Par phir aaya ek din, jab aahat na koi,
Neend mein achaanak uth padoon,
Koi hai? Lagta hai koi aawaz suni!
Har taraf dhoondha, kahin yeh meri kalpana toh nahi?
Sapnon ko pukaarte,
Khudko dhakela neend ki galli.

Subah hui aur aankhein dhoondein wohi dhoop,
Par thand ne thithur di meri rooh.
Mann se ki dua ki yeh sirf ho ek maaya,
Palak jhukaayi aur kuch mehsoos hua.
Lagta hai sirhaane aakhir koi aaya?
Kaun aaya? Kaun aaya?
Bas Khaalipan ka saaya.

- © HAEM ROY

6 Jan 2011.

Dec 23, 2011

ON STAGE - 'WORLD WITHOUT WOMEN'

So, I am a small part of a play called WWW- World Without Women, by Loudmouth Productions. The play is about female infanticide and foeticide, and takes different looks at what would become of this world if this practice continues.

It is a short play, and we had performed for the first time as part of the Be Artsy street theatre festival at NCPA. As the creators of the play describe it and I quote:
"The play staged in a street play form, explores the possibility of a day not far in the future of a world without women. Through the metaphor of a womb, the issue of the death of a girl child is explored.
A woman-less world enfolds where abuses have died away, songs lose meaning, iconic movie scenes lose their sting, men who remember women are never the same again, while sonography operators lose their jobs. The endangered women become mere objects of curiosity, 'protected' in zoos before their eventual extinction. In the end, the womb metaphor recurs, to give the message of hope, if the world wakes up today."

After NCPA, the play became a part of one of the most prestigious youth theatre festivals in the country - Thespo, as we performed at the curtain raiser at Crossword Bookstore, Kemps Corner. And the rush was unbelievable.

Let me begin by saying this - I am someone who loves the spotlight, the stage and the limelight. I love an audience. And performing at the bookstore gave us all such an amazing high. The reactions were perfect and we were glad that the play was liked and understood.

Here are some pics: WWW at Thespo 13 curtain raiser

After that was THE performance, at Thespo 13, Prithvi Theatre. On the 14th of December, ours was a platform performance.

As we reached the venue, we saw sitting right there, in the front row - Shashi Kapoor with Dolly Thakore. The surprising part wasn't finding him there, but the coincidence. You see, we had the 'Mere paas gaadi hai...' dialogue from Deewar in the play (watch the video below to know more). If Crossword was a high, this was cloud 9 altogether. We felt so elated after the performance, and it reached new heights when the play was commended and liked by Dolly Thakore.
Watch some part of the performance: THE PLAY VIDEO

As we headed to Juhu beach to celebrate with some street food, we realised this cast may not perform together again. But we were glad that we did this, that we removed time from this from work/college/etc, that we took a social cause, and that we made new friends.

Here is hoping that many more such things happen as the next year arrives!

And for those who liked the play, you can join the group on Facebook - Loudmouth Productions 

Oct 31, 2011

The adrenaline of travelling

Travel... sigh!

Travel is a dream that one in two people have, at the least. Everyone wants to travel, see the world, in their own way. Some prefer a backpack, whilst some prefer the luxury of a cruise. Me, I just love the thrill of a new place, new people, new culture, and something different.

Recently for Diwali, I went to Pune - just for a day. I haven't visited that city in years, and so for me, it was a new experience all over again. In the evening, I would just take a walk by myself, roam the pretty streets of Koregaon Park, look around, talk to a few people, and it would be an adrenaline rush. I loved the thrill of being somewhere new, of discovering something.

I was pressed for time. But had I had the time, the one thing I wanted to do was just walk around, and ask the people to suggest the next place in Pune I should go to, get there and then figure out where to go next. Basically, build a day of travelling through a chain of suggestions from people there. Not just see the place, but feel it.

I want to travel the world, I want to talk to people, maybe live with them and see how their life is. How similar, how different. I want to step into a different country, and feel the land, the place, the vibes. Dress like them, smile at them, talk to them, maybe act a little like a tourist once a in a while, and maybe couch surf sometimes.

A new place is a new rush. So, anyone taking me somewhere new?

Sep 29, 2011

Wajah

Zindagi mein bas saans lene ki wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main,
Har ghadi bas jeene ki nayi wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main.

Phoolon ki mehek mujhe agle mod tak le chale,
Hawa ka jhonka mujhe do saans aur de.
Pyaar ka pehla ehsaas mujhe mein ek nayi jaan bhare,
Khumaari si jo aaye, kahe thoda aur jeeya jaaye.

Khojti rahoon har pal kuch naya, kuch alag,
Maksat mile toh kuch pal ki ho raahat,
Warna bechaini sada, jhapke na meri palak,
Bas taak mein rahoon, shaayad mile junoon ki aahat.

Sthir na rahe yeh mann hai ek bhatakta raahi,
Talaash ho har pal ek naye gaanv ki,
Kal ek alag mod se hogi mulaaqat,
Yehi subah uthne ki wajah bann jaati.

Har raat sitaare mujhe banaa de chitrakaar,
Baadal ka peecha kar, sukhe paate si udta rahoon,
Jigyaasa hai amrit, jo mujhe zinda rakhe,
Indradhanush ki khoj mein hi jeevan rangeen banaaun.
  
Zindagi mein bas saans lene ki wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main,
Har ghadi bas jeene ki nayi wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main.

- © HAEM ROY

Sep 8, 2011

Ojhal Mann

Ek choti si jhapki jab aankhon mein basi,
Mann chala phir khwabon ki oar,
Manzil kahaan kisse hai fikar,
humein toh bas hai safar ka nasha...
dharti se humein baandhe hai bas ek patli si dor.

Door kahin ek chamak si dikhi,
Ban gayi wohi manzil agli.
Aankhen tez, aur lakshya par nazar,
Chal pade hum ban gaya woh ek safar.

Pahunche jab wahaan, toh chamak na thi kahin,
Bas halki si dhoop aur hawa mein nami,
Do pal lekar saans phir mann ne bhari udaan,
Ab kahaan chale, dhoondhe kaunsa dwaar.

Kabhi na bharta, kabhi na khush,
Mann yeh behte paani sa ojhal,
Raah badalta, na aage ka pata,
Bas chalta hai na jaane kiski khoj mein,
Bas behta hai sapnon ko sach samjhe.

- © HAEM ROY

Mar 28, 2011

Pierced through and through

A little gory, but again I have been watching crime shows a lot. Here goes:


It starts with a little poke,
A tease, a scratch,
Finding it's way in,
The needle slowly inching in.
A drop of blood, oh, it's just one,
I'll wipe it away.
But one drop gets replaced by two,
and then they turn eight.
The draining starts,
the pouring begins,
it's all on the floor.
The needle is now way in,
pierced through and through.
Can't stop.
Can't dab,
just let it flow,
just let it all go.
It will eventually stop,
it has to,
till then just lie still,
till then just think of sheep and clouds,
Don't look at the needle,
don't look at the pool beneath.

- © HAEM ROY

Mar 16, 2011

A goodbye?

I pack up my thoughts,
I pick up my memories,
Without any footwear,
I seem to walk out with apparent ease.

I step out of the threshold,
I pull myself away,
I swear not to look back,
It's time to go away.

"I shall visit soon",
"I'll drop in for tea",
Or so we say,
Before we go our way.

Why so serious they tell me,
But goodbyes are never cheerful,
They bring an impending doom,
They always leave you tearful.

And thus we part,
But it's not forever they say,
Though while I start walking I wonder,
how can a goodbye be half way?

- © HAEM ROY

Mar 14, 2011

A small village in a big city - Khotachiwadi

Bombay is a large city. Tourists coming here do explore many famous parts of the city, right from the Gateway to the Elephanta Caves to Esselworld and what not. But those of us who have settled here very rarely visit such touristy places. We also very rarely think that Bombay (yes, I shall call it that, for the nth time), has much to offer in terms of exploring, seeing, or visiting. Yes, you can go to Crawford and buy things. Or you can walk down Colaba. But none of these are something that the ordinary person living here would feel out of place, or different.

This Sunday, amidst the chaos, hustle-bustle and crowd of this ever-growing city, I found an oasis. A little hidden place that threw me off.

My three girlfriends and I visited Khotachiwadi. It is a little area, just off Charni Road, quite close to the station. You turn into a thin lane that is not wide enough for a car, with a conspicuous board at the entry. Walk a few steps, and you will wonder what happened. You are greeted by colourful single story wood houses, with balconies, plants, tiny bylanes interconnecting the houses, a grotto, graffitii painted walls, and more. It is entirely reminiscent of old Goa. And it is in Bombay.

The moment you turn into the Khotachiwadi lane, it is like all outside sound has been shut off. Nothing filters in, and you can actually hear sparrows. In fact, I actually saw a peahen, an arm's distance away, happily sitting on one of the houses.

Khotachiwadi is inhabited by East Indians, Maharashtrians and Goan Catholics. The plot of land was originally owned by Mr. Khot, who allowed migrants to settle and build houses here. The migrants slowly bought their pieces of land from him, turning this place into a small community.

No matter who you talk to, everyone here will tell you that this wadi is like a large family. Most people have migrated abroad, leaving maybe just a few members of the family back here. A lot of times, it is old parents who live here alone. And in times of need, of sickness and of trouble, anytime of the day or night, it is the neighbours who handle everything like family would.

The people come together during Christmas, and here, it FEELS like Christmas. They meet every evening, they pray together, they hold festivals and fun and fairs. And the best part, anyone and everyone is invited. These events are peaceful and quiet, with no blaring music, or alcohol.

The houses here too are Portuguese style. Some over 100 years old. A lot of them have been rebuilt. But they are colourful, open, filled with plants and each one has a character of its own. They are not boxes. They may be small, but they are not suffocating or claustrophobic. They have an old world charm and a new world spirit of liveliness, bundled together.

The place started with around 70 or more houses. But today, only 27 remain. And being located in such prime property area, it is no surprise that builders are doing their best to get the residents to sell their plots and houses. Some have done that, giving way to 18 floor skyscrapers, that look odd and out of place in this quaint neighbourhood, and attracting the wrath of the other residents of the area.

The place was declared a heritage site, but now with laws changing at the drop of a hat, the status is also under doubt. This leaves the area and the residents fighting to keep the place alive, to not let it be swallowed up by the concrete jungle that seems to be spreading like plague. Holding festivals, pot lucks, trying to get publicity and raise awareness, get more people involved in the cause, and just do anything, they are building their own wall to shield their Khotachiwadi.

Will they be successful? I don't know. Should they be successful? I want that yes. Because like Mrs. Bridget Misquita said, "Money is not everything." The joy of discovering that this place exists in a city like Bombay is even greater.