Monday, June 25, 2007

Pyaar Ka Dushman

Once Rishi Kapoor standing below Neetu Singh's house sang against his song in Amar Akbar Anthony....Tayyab Alli Pyaar Ka Dushman Hai Hai...The Hai Hai part was of course sung along with the legendary 'Hai Hai'ers...The Eunuchs!!!! The inhuman Tayyab Alli was Neetu Singh's on screen father in the film.
It has been about thirty years to the occurence this monumental event. The fathers...off screen and on screen haven't changed. Cinema is the mirror of the society. Fathers still rule the chair of being the 'Pyaar ka Dushmans'. But this role is now not only restricted to the 'Ladki Ka Baap's. The Baaps all over the world and those who aren't the Baaps still have started to contribute their bit in being the 'Pyaar ka Dushman'.
The phenomenon of 'Mass Pyaar Ka Dushmani' has acquired it's place in the now social structure of India, making the Jamaanaa....Jaalim and Bura and the Duniya....Dushman!!! What has led to this revolution???....the emergence of the Great Indian Moral Police!!!! And the growing realisation of the loss of Indian Culture Make love...and moral police will come for you.

Think!!!!....You are siting with your sweet heart at a lonely sea face. A wildly romantic evening. Wet winds are blow over the sea. They touching you lightly. Waves come and crash at your feet. They whisper a word in your ear...Love!!!! You turn to your sweet heart. Your sweet heart turns to you. You exchange 'Love you's and 'Love you too's. You move closer to each other and......You are attacked by a group of youth activists with saffron, tricolour or green bands on foreheads...."Aye!!... sharam nahi aati kya??",.....and then you are caught and castigated for your act!!!!..."Chalo...sau uthak baithak nikalo". For your mistake is an unpardonable one....you sit in a couple.
Yes it is a crime. A crime for which there is no mercy in the eye of morality. You have marred the mighty wall of our culture which for years have been gaurding our decency. Yor act of indecency involving sitting close to each other has touched the curtain of culture with a burning torch, the curtain behind which we keep our 'Laaj' enclosed. Down with you you lover. You are a blot on your country.
Private display of affection too is a misdeed today. Tommorow maybe you won't be allowed to hold your 'coochie poo's hand in public. Locking fingers will be unthinkable of. Why so???...Because we are a cultural nation. Don't you remeber the pledge in school.."I am proud of it's varied culture and heritage." Well ,by your acts of affection, you are razing it out. You should feel ashamed for it!!!!

But....what's the point????
How does it blight the culture and all the stuff???
What is wrong so with it???
Excuse me gentlemen, the sons of morality, the true children of culture.....how many of you don't peep into windows where you get even a slightest glimpse of a woman changing???? We are all born with needs. We live with them. They aren't any new discoveries of science. They were, are and will be there. Separating humans from them is unfeasible. And locking them in coffers of morality is only other way of worsening them.
And talking about culture.....Are you seriously speaking about our Indian culture???? If you are then let me clear you that this is the land that has created Kama Sutra....the art of making love. This is the land where Khajuraho exists, the temples with love carved out on each of it's walls. And if you discard my statement by forwarding an argument saying, it is meant for couples tied in the eternal knot of wedding....let me remind you of a mythological affair of Lord Krsna and his mate Radha, already married to Anay, meeting secretly in the dark hours of night, whom we pray to in our odd times.
So Moral Police, just give a thought to your acts before condemning the acts of hearts in love. Is snatching away the freedom of peaceful people in any sense reasonable. There are many other topics which await your eruptive protest and blazing action. Just open your eyes and see the world around with them and not through the eyes of people who brainwash and misguide you.

And dear Policemen, you have a lot of work in stock for you other than scaring little love birds and snatching away money saved for Pizzas and Coffees by them. Remember the last time you hit a boy, after scaring him and grabbing money, on the lonely beach of Aksa when this conversation occured....
"Sharam nahi aati????...sitting here with girl...that too in such a position."
"We were just sitting normally Sir...what did we do???"
"Don't argue....I saw what you were doing.....maaloom nahi kya??...This is a PUBLIC place."
"But is it okay when people booze over here"
"Boozing is different....loving here is not allowed"
"Then where is it???"
"Go to lodge"
"You raid them"
"Go to gardens"
"Kids play there"
"Don't teach me, you people sit hidden in the bushes"
"There too the authority comes and asks us to leave"
"Then go to National Park"
"Forest Authorities harass us there"
"If you have so much khujli...then go to your houses and do it in front of your parents"
"Give me a logical answer, where should we go then???....keep yourself in my place and think"
"Don't act smart...leave now"
"We will...but please first tell me where should we go???"
"Why do you need to do anything like this at all???"
"The reason you need to rape girl in custody and chowkies"

We all are born with needs.....Police, Moral Police, everybody. Then why this scene of culture and all. why be 'Pyar Ka Dushman' when we all long for it......

Making Love To The City

I want to embrace you....
hold you in my arms....
half sunk in the saline waters
clustered with promfrets and bombay ducks....
and run my hand slowly.....
over your railway tracks....
your humble spine....

I want to rub my cheeks
on your smooth sands
and run my fingers
through the messy network of wires.....
suspended above
to hold the sky
if it everfalls over you......

I want to touch those sky scrapers and rising towers
lightly.....with my nose tip
and fill in the smell
of old English heritage
spirts of whichstill hover
in minds
and lanes........

draw circles with the tip of my finger
over the maidans, parks and grounds
and hold in my palms
the numerous houses
you bear....

I want to kiss those pools and ponds in you
and see them blush in ripples
and rest my head
in the hills tall and short owned by palaces some
some encroached by huts....

Hold the Irani Cafes
close to my chest
and let the special tea
seep into my heart
mix with my blood....
and feel the heatof oil pans
with vadas afloat
ready to rest
within the spread arms
of a Paav

and put my ear
to your heart
to listen to the cacophony
orchestrated by a thousand vehicles
standing close to each other
almost stuck
to disallow even stray gush of wind
to pass between them
waiting eagerlyto move on......

let the dabbawallas
run all over mein their network
to take my words
from my mouthto your invisible ears
which I altough don't see but know
that hear
my words
of unending love for you
of my wish...to make love to you
once
in the way you are...
before I loose you
as you walk on
holding the hand of time.....

(With all my Love....for the slowly changing structure of my dear......Mumbai)