Friday, June 22, 2012

Waqt...


Waqt
Har Zakham Bhaar Detaa Hai
Khwah Kitne Ghere Kiyoon Na Hon
Tab Hi to 
Sath Jeene Aur Marne ki Qasame 
Khaane Wale Bhi 
Ek Doose ke Bagair Bhi Jee Lete hain
Pooane Rishte Zahan ki Kisi Almari main pade
Yaadon ki Dhool Main Dab Jaate hain
Log Sab Bhool Jaate hain
Is Baar Lekin
Waqt Ke Sath
Main Sirf Khud Ko Hi Bhool Payaa Hoon
Tum.....Hurf Ba Hurf
Yaad Ho Ab Tak

Rahogi!!
(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed, 22-6-12 @ 12:45 am

Friday, June 15, 2012

June 3rd 2012

Jab tum Aayin Nahi thin
Tab bhi to tum Majud thin....

Monday, June 11, 2012

Ek Pooranaa Album...


Aaj bhi Tum se Mulaqaat Hui Jati hai
Kisi Poorane Album main, 
Kisi Tasveer Ke Peeche Se Tum
Wohi Adayen, Muskurahten Liye Aati ho
Kabhi Poorane Kaghzon ke Bundle Se
Tum Koi Shikyat, Koi Hikayat Sunaye Jaati Ho
Kabhi Kisi Diary Ke Panne se Nikal 
Elaan-e-Mahobbat Karti ho
Khush Ho Jati ho
Aaj Bhi Tum se Mulaqaat Hui Jaati hai
Pehle Jo Ho Na Saki 
Woh Baat Hui Jaati hai

(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed, 11-06-12

Thursday, June 07, 2012

Aaj ki raat...


Shahi, Sheenu, Sheen aur Aye - Janaab....
Wohi Naam ...
Jo Tum Ne Mere Piyar ki khatir Rakhe
Ab Dil ke Aasman Par
Sitare Ban Jagmagate hain
Jab main Unhen Dekh Muskurataa hoon
Woh Ye Jaan Jaate hain
Ke Unhen Bhi Aaj Bahut Der Tak Jalnaa Hoga
Aaj Ki Raat Bahut Mushkil se Kategi...

(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed, 07-06-12 @ 2am

Monday, May 28, 2012

Why do I write?


I have been wanting to write this post for sometime now, but never got around to it, as I was busy writing a script of  a full length feature.

As one of my rationalist friends cautioned that I might be falling into the Sudhir Kakar's  "Dev D" trap of first letting people go from my life, and then chasing them through their memories and other paraphernalia. Someone reading my last few poetry would draw the same conclusion. Someone went so far to warn me in not walling in this tub of self pity.

Here is my side of the story...

I am a writer  and a chronicler of times we live. I dont do it to glorify myself or it gives me some high. I dont get paid  to re-visit my past,  its part of my DNA. Its who I am.

For example, Its been 14 years but am still carrying the wailing sound of a  woman who was crying heart out on the road as she walked past me by the sea. I was standing there with a girl friend watching the sun go down. To this day, I dont remember anything that girl friend said or what we discussed, but I am still carrying that fleeting moment of someone's wailing sound. I still think about that woman like who was she?, what had happened to her? Why was she crying so uncontrollably on a busy sea side road? Where is she now? Alive or dead? Who made her cry?

As I grow old and wiser, my subjects grow as well and so my thoughts about them keep changing. I dont let go of them....they walk with me.

I can offer many more examples from my encounters with people even for a short amount of time. Folks dont notice, but I take away a lot from my encounters with them. Its part of the deal.

I am not alone in this, I think all artistes think alike, be it painters, actors or poets. We care for others deeply irrespective of cast, creed, gender, religion, nationality or sexual origination. We enjoy people. We identify with their moments of success, failure, tragedy and euphoria.

So, friends, relax! There is no cause for an alarm. I have a lot of times at hands these days.

Thats all!!

PS: The above pictures is from the outside gate of Rani Jhansi's Fort in Jhansi, Uttar Pardesh. This jebroni was selling his goods in 36 degree heat. From I could gather, his total inventory cost must be around Rs 500. How much you think he earns per day? Do you agree that he must be having a family to feed? Where does he go for lunch? What about going to the bathroom and other needs?

While other visitors to the fort might have taken other scenes worth recording, in my mind this was the moment of reckoning. Compare this jebroni's day earning of Rs 50 to the earnings of  intelligent folks at JP Morgan and Morgan Stanley. Compare his intention of keeping his family safe and healthy with those that brought the great depression and bunch of unnecessary wars on us. While he gets no mention anywhere for running this simple business, others hog lime lights of NY Times and Wall Street Journals for squandering the wealth of millions of shareholders, for looting pensioners out of their retirement money.....you get the idea!

The world is a terrible place at times, in spite of having some great minds on earth. Why? Because those great minds dont feel for others. The day we start "feeling what other fellow travelers" going through,  the wars would end, bombs would stop dropping on innocnet women and children in the middle of the night, justice would prevail and someone higher up would start smiling at his own creation.

We will get there one day, Inshallah!!

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Un dino...



Aaj kal Offfice Se Wapsi Par
Main Seedha Ghar Nahi Aata..
Kabhi koi film 
Ya Samandar ke Kinare baith
Mahobbat karne walon ko dekhta hoon
Jo Doobte Suraj ko Naye Rang Dete hain
Ya phir Kisi Park Main Jaa kar
Bacchon ke Kehkhe Sun Muskurataa hoon
Kabhi Kisi Bazar ki Chahal Pehal main
Khud ko Bhi bhool Jataa hoon
Ya Kisi Veeran Raaste Par
Khoob Chlataa hoon 
Aur Chaltaa hi Chalaa Jataa hoon

Aaj Kal office Se Wapsi par
Main Seedha Ghar Nahi aataa

Un Dino Office Se 
Main Seedha Ghar Hi Aata tha
Jin Dino 
Tum Mera Intezaar karti thin....

(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed, 23-03-12

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Be-Khwaabi....

Aur Jab Tum Mere Seene pe Sar Rakh Kar
Soti Aankhon ke, Jaaggte Khwaabon ka Mazaa Leti Thin
Tab main Tumhen Dekh Ye Sochtaa tha
Is Ke Pehle Ye Lamhe Bhi Kahin Kho Jayen
Inhen Apne Wajood Main Samet Loon 
To Behtar hai....

Ab Jab ke Mere Bistar Pe
Din Ki Thakan aur Raat ki Silwaton ke Siwa 
Kuch nahi Hota
Main Un Lamhon ko Seene Pe Sula Detaa Hoon
Is trah Apni Be-Nighahii, Apni Be-Khwaabi 
ka Mazaa Letaa hoon!!

(c) Shahid Parvez Sayed, 20-05-12@ 3:00 am

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Shukriya...


Tanha Ye Safar
Zulmaat ka ye Qarb
Itna Rayegan bhi nahi
Yahan bhi
Hamesha ki Trah
Tum jo Sath ho
Shukriya...

(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed, 26-4-12 @ 12:30 am

Friday, April 20, 2012

Tanhaa Shaam aur Dhalte Saaye...


Tanhaa Shaam Aur Ye Dhalte Saaye
Kiya Ye Bhi Zindagi Guzaar Aaye ?

Har Mausam Hum se Rehta hai Khafa
Woh Aayen to Phir Ab Bahaar Aaye

Kayee Log Aaye, Gaye Zindagi main
Chaha Jise , woh bhi Ek Baar Aaye

Ye Na Kehnaa ke Hamen Awaaz na Di
Har Gali, Har Mod Tumhen Pukar Aaye

(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed, 20-4-12 @ 1 am

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Ration Card...



Ghar ke Ration Card par Tumhara Naam dekha
Use bhi Doosre Un Namo ki Trah
 Kaat diya gya tha
Jo Ab Sath Nahi Rahe..
Yani, Tumhare Hisse Ka Anaaj bhi ab
Mujh Tak Nahi Aata

Ek Zamana woh bhi tha jab
Tum Kacchi Pakki Rotiyan Bana kar
Jale Hue Hisse Khud Khaa kar
Mujhe Behla Liya karti thin
Aaj Tumhare Naam ka Rizq bhi
Tumhari Yaadon ki trah
Mujh pe Haraam hai

Go Waqt ne Hamare Tallouk Rok diye 
Par ye bhi Sach hai
Un Kacche Pakke Luqmon se
 Jo Khoon Bana tha
Jism main Mere wohi Rawan hai
Dil ki Sharyano main Raqs hai Jaari 
Zahan ke Gheriyon se Wohi Ayaan hai

Jis din Main Tumhare Hathon ki
 Adh Jali Rotiyon ka Zaiqa Bhool Jaoonga
Us din Ye Dil Ruk Jayega
  Daudta Khoon Tham Jayega...
Tab Main bhi Wahin Kahin so jaoongaa!

(c) Shahid Parvez Sayed, 11-4-12, Mumbai

Wednesday, April 04, 2012

Har Manzar Tumhen Talash karta hai...


Doobta suraj aur ghar laut-te parindon ki qatar
Sard Hawa, Khamoshi, Aam ke woh Baug
Imli ke ped main uljha hua sa chaand
Jungle ke raston main kuch shoukh rang ke phool
Barsaat ki Phuwaren aur Bheegne ki woh zidd

Har Manzar ab jo milta hai
Woh tumhen talash karta hai
Aur ye swaal kartaa hai
Ke Ab tum saath kiyoon nahi aati?
Kiya kar rahi ho? Kahan Masroof ho tum?
Ya agar main Tanha ho chuka hoon to phir 
Har Martaba kis talash yahan aataa hoon?
Aur Kiya soch laut jataa hoon?


(C) Shahid  Parvez Sayed, April 5th, 2012

Wednesday, February 08, 2012

Tumhare Gham ki dali utha kar
Zuban pe rakh li hai dekho main ne
Ye Qatra Qatra pighal rahi hai
Main Qatra Qatra hi Jee raha hoon
(Gulzar)

Monday, February 06, 2012

Itna Hi Sath tha....


Jaise Jaise Waqt
Tumhari kahi hui baton aur andeshon ko
Sach Saabit kar raha hai
waise hi main
Tumhari Dosti, Wafa, aur Zamana-Shanasi ka
Qaail ho raha hoon
Aur Zehni Faasle Kam ho rahe hain

Magar Ye Dil to phir bhi door rahenege
Hazaron Meel aur Kayi Sadiyan Darmiyan
Aur ek din
Ek dil watan, apno se door, Tanhaa
Kisi Qabar main Utara Diya Jayegaa
Doosra Yahin watan main,
Apno se Qareeb, Par Tanhaa
Dafan hoga
Tumhari Ye fikr bhi
Aakhir Sach Saabit hogi

Aur jab woh waqt aaye to Rona nahi
Ye Tasalli Dena apne aap ko ke
Hamara Saath Tweel na sahi
Jitna bhi tha... Khoob tha
Aur main bade Itmenan se gaya hoon!!

(c) Shahid Parvez Sayed

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Waqt ne kiya, kiya Haseen Sitam

Tum rehe na Tum, Hum rahe na Hum...(Kaifi Azmi)

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Khwaab...


Jantaa hoon
Hamara Bichad Janaa hi
Ab Meri Zndagi ki 
ek Zinda Haqeeqat hai
Par
Baqi Ye Sab khwaab sa Kiyoon hai?
Mitne ka Ehsaas Sa Kiyoon hai?

(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed

Sunday, December 04, 2011

Tum ne mujh ko piro ke rakha tha.....(Gulzar)

Monday, November 28, 2011

28/11

Ansoouon ko Kaise Pata hota hai
Kaun si Taarikh hai ?
Kiya hua tha aaj ?
Kaun mila tha ?
Aur Kiyoon Bichad gyaa koi ?

Kaise Ye Bin Bataye chale aate hain?
Har Lamhe, Har Pal ko Apne Sath liye
Aur phir Sab Kaam Kaaj Rukwa kar Mere
Saari Tawajjah ye le lete hain...

Tareekhon aur Salgirahon ka Hisaab
to Bas Sirf Tum Khoob Rakhti thin...


Tawajjah = Attention, Salgirah = Anniversary
(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Din dhale jahan, Raat paas ho!

Din Dhale jahan, Raat paas ho
Zindagi ki lau unchi kar chalo
Yaad aayen gar kabhi 
Jee Udaas ho
Meri awaaz hi pehchan hai
Gar yaad rahe...
(Gulzar)

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Tumhari Aakhri Araam Gaah...



Jab kisi ne meri Tanhayee ka sabab pucha
Tum se is Darjaa Judayee ka sabab pucha
Ye bhi Pucha ke tum kaun thin? Kaisi thin?
Kahan se Aayin thin?
Kiyoon chale Jana tha tumhen?
Kiyoon Tum Ruk nahi payin thin?

Main ne ye Keh diya, Sach keh diya
Ke Arsa hua, Mar Chuki ho Tum
Bandhan woh Saare Tod Chuki ho Tum
Apne hi Hathon Tumhen Dafan kiya hai main ne
Khud Pe Ek aur Sitam kiya hai main ne

Dafan kar di hain woh Muskurahaten
Jinhen dekh Dil jhoom jhoom ho uthta tha!
Woh Adaayen bhi 
Jo Sirf Tumhen hi aati thin
Aur Woh Gussa 
Jis main Mahobbat ki Tapish hoti thi
Woh Aankhen 
Jo mere Naam Pe Muskati thin

Ab Mere Dil ke Niha khano Main Madfoon ho Tum
Kaun kehta hai Meri Jaan Mujh se Door ho Tum?
Ab Ye Dil mera - 
Ek Qabar hai
Tumhari Aakhri Aaram Gaah...

(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed

Sunday, October 02, 2011

Ye batla do...

Kehte hain ke
Waqt ke sath sab badal jate hain
Rishte, Naate, Chere, Naam

Mahobbat ke woh lamhe bhi
Waqt ke aage sar jhuka kar
Poorane jazbon main
Naye maani talash karte hain

Aur Suraj ke gird ghoomne wali dharti
Ek naya mahwar talash kar
Phir se usi tezi se ghumne lagti hai
jaise ke kuch hua hi na ho!

Yehi zaroori hai shaid
Zindagi ki irtiqa ke liye
Badalna Laazim hai
Naye Rishton se wafa ke liye


To phir, ..
Halke dhaani, Aasmani rang
Jo Waqte-Rukhsat main
Tumhare Dupatte pe chod aaya tha
Woh kiyoon nahi badle?
Ye batla do

Bas ye batla do...

Monday, August 01, 2011

Ramzan in Atlanta


Jab koi dhaan paan si
Sanvli si dikhne wali ladki
Wazu kiye
Safed dupatta odhe
Mere khayal -e- masjid ki
Seedhiyon pe aa khadi hoti hai
Aankhon main bas ek lafz liye
"Chalen!"

Main ye samajh jata hoon
ke Ramzan aa chuka hoga!!

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Mumkin...


Aur phir yaad ke saare panchi
ek ek kar Ud jate hain...
Umr bhar ka sath kahan mumkin tha?

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Yaaden...


Jab Khuda kisi par khush hota hai to use Mahobbat ataa karta hai. Tumhen woh Atiya mila hai jo bahut kam insano ko milta hai. Aise halaat main jab ke tumhen is ki zara bhi tawakko na thi - tumhen mahobbat mili. Aur phir kaisi piyari ladki ki masoom mahobbat!

Halaat par tumhara kaboo nahi. Waqt ke sel ko tum nahi rok sakte - TUM DONO KO JUDA HONA THA!

Aise dil - aawez lamhe Lafaani hote hain aur mit jaate hain, lekin un ki yaaden reh jaati hain. Aur ye yaad zindagi ke udaas lamhon ko jagmagati hain-

Kaisa Qaif aawar khyaal hai ke kabhi tumhen ek bholi bhali mukhlis ladki ne chaha tha aur shaid ab bhi duniya ke kisi goshe main woh tumhen yaad kar leti hai - Kitni haseen yaad hai -

Sab kuch fanaa ho jataa hai - Yaaden Fana nahi hotin - Yaaden Zindagi banti hain...

(From Himakten by Shafiq-ur-Rehman)

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Help is on the way....


One of my friends 80 year old mother heard about Parveen's plight and donated Rs 100 today.

I was touched by her gesture. Earlier the same friend Shagufta Farouqui had offered Rs 10,000 which I refused. The reason being I am interested more in developing a genuine chain or a grass root movement than taking quick helps from my buddies.

There are so many Parveens out there. You can count on meeting hundreds of Parveenss in every city and every nook and corner of India. It will not be humanly possible to find and each and every one of them due to constraints on resources. What we need is a group of like minded people so that we can work on politicians to enforce minimum wage in India.

The government needs to step up to the plate to enforce child labor laws on the books and to provide education and job opportunities to these kids specially girls that have traditionally been left behind for thousands of years.

I am looking forward to being a part of that chain of people that can help transform the big picture as well.

I will report more donations as they come.

Enjoy the ride!

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Parveen...



Name: Parveen, age 19, Education: school dropout
Father: Paased away when she was 10, Mother: Lost her senses
Brother: a retard, Occupation: Embroidery worker since age 10.
Earnings: Rs 50 a day ($1.15 a day). I repeat $1.15 a day.

She lives in a 50 sft corner of someone else’s house. She is the only bread earner of the family. She cooks and does household work herself as her mom cant do anything.

Her day starts at 6:30 as makes breakfast and lunch for her brother and mom and then she goes off to work. She comes home, cooks dinner and feeds them before calling it a night. This is every day, 365 days a year rain or sunshine.

I wonder what makes her get up in the morning each day? Knowing well that it will be another day when she would not be able to even communicate with her mother or brother.

I wonder why she is not jumping off a bridge or into a river to end this un-ending tragedy? Living with two half dead relatives cant be fun.

And I wonder why she is at least not bitter about life and its gruesome treatment of her? Why she never complains? What makes her smile even in these circumstances? What dream she cherishes, if any?

Her optimism and confidence inspires me as I begin my day.

Her story will inspire you too as you end a bad day at Emmanuel’s or at the nearest watering hole with bud light and a bunch of friends by your side.

Yet, your story will not help her in any way nor she is aware of your existence. She is not even aware that I am writing about her on the internet or what the hell internet stands for.

So people, while you may be having a bad day, someone 9000 miles away is having a bad life, for no fault of hers. Yet, she is keeping her chins up and her head high as she struggles in this life – all alone.

Have a good one!

Ps: I would be glad to be a conduit if someone wants to help her in any way.

Saturday, October 09, 2010

Rains outside a mumbai local


It had rained unexpectedly. I was rushing out from this suburban railway station and this sight halted me in my tracks.

I stopped for a few minutes; first to feel sorry, and then to admire her enterprising spirit. In a few minutes folks had gathered behind me assuming that I was a TV reporter. They were appreciating my eye for a good shot. None had anything to say about that frail woman.

PS: I have seen small section of corporate India do "rain harvesting" and now this old woman was so enterprising to take advantage of some unexpected rains.

Rest of us are just passing by, that too in slow motion..

pps: This was my FIRST edit with my new I Mac. However, I still love my old one!

Wednesday, April 07, 2010

The class act...


They sat down next to me and started what teenagers do while waiting for a train - non stop talking on various topics. Even though I was absorbed reading a book (on insurgent Obama), I could catch a line here and there making me remember my college days.

Those girls were talking exactly like the ones from my college days. Whoever said that girls of one's youth stay forever young in the minds was correct. Giggles, exam pressures, careers - they were quite adept at covering most topics in no time. An awesome display of camaraderie and friendship.

And then as a train rolled in, they quickly disbursed into two segments. One headed for a first class compartment and the other one , a lone girl ran towards the second class compartment.

And suddenly it became clear: these two were rich girls from well to do families and here was a 'poorer' girl. They would travel a few miles, a few meters away from each other in a train headed towards their common destination.

I wondered: Will they resume their conversation from where it was left off, when they alight? As if there has been no change, no class divide, no difference of roads taken by families in the years gone past?

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Empty Room


As you return to the home empty,
left a few weeks ago
the loneliness of the apartment
decides to return to its home
- your empty heart
Finally both find a home
main aur meri tanhayee!

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Dukh sabhi ka...


Name: Sukhi Patel, Age: 52, Profession: Farmer, Married with no kids.


As I stood by the Ganges, watching his body consumed by fire, I kept asking all kinds of questions to his relatives and friends. They responded with courtesy, but I could see that they were confused about my relation with him. I stood out separate. They knew that I am not one of them.

Answers I got to my questions helped me construct his life. Brought up a series of images.

Sukhi Patel's only son died of an accident days before he was to get married. Sukhi was never the same again. He took to drinking and now - died of kidney failure.

This is how it mostly ends in small towns and villages.

I thought about his wife and wondered what would happen to her and how she would survive with no child to look after her. I wondered what she must be thinking having gone thru the rituals of breaking bangles, removing sindoor and changing to white. After having lost her son a while back.

I wondered where would he be, had his son not been killed in that accident. I wondered how he might have felt when he had showed up at the same Ganges with the asthiyan of his only son.

I stood there for an hour. Alone. My mind racing in all directions., thinking of anything and everything Sukhi Patel had experienced - like the first crops at his farm, the first look at his wife and how he must have reacted when he found out his wife had delivered a baby boy. What were his dreams for himself and his family. What did he think about world affairs if he ever did, and what was his favorite sport? What kind of movies did he see and who was his favorite heroine?

And then a thought occurred to me.

When I was thinking so much about a stranger whose existence I had no clue till about an hour ago...

What was his "creator" thinking about when Sukhi Patel's kidneys failed?

ps: As I was leaving, his friend asked me who I was and whether I had known Sukhi Patel. I told him that I just happened to be at the Ghat, stopped by to see a cremation, and did not know him at all.

Magar, Main us ke dukh ko jantaa hoon....

Sukh sab ka alag alag ho sakta hai. Dukh sabhi ka ek hai.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Sang.....

Sang Pyaar Rahe -
Main Rahoon na Rahoon...