Stupid Things in Night (Chapter – 3)

I listen to songs. Romantic, sad, songs which have heartbreak and unfaithful lover in themes. Nothing works, for I feel nothing after listening to them. They just do not seem to affect me at all. Hardly a surprise, given I have never dabbled in matters of love and heartbreaks. All I know about it, is from movies and music videos. My friends in school told me things. But those seem more like juvenile fantasies now.

Two more days. Still no reply. I have given up hopes of receiving a message from her. I do not blame her. There is much more important things in life than replying to one’s hi message on Internet. I hope it comes true for me also.

It is a moonless night. I think about love, its scarcity in life. Nothing comes up in mind. Why do I even think about this subject? I have no answer.

It might have to do with my loneliness. But what is loneliness in its truest sense? I have people to talk to. I talk to them. Is loneliness something people face in the night when they are left to themselves? If yes, then I have been having too much of it. It is, the silence of night is apt for a deep sleep. But for the sleepless folks, it is the music of worries, regrets and issues pervading them.

It is unknown to me if I talk sense. Or what I think is right by other people. It is an unusual thing for a silent person to want someone dear to talk about things.

It is night, and I wonder if I am too woke to make sense.


I do not remember any of my dreams. I also wonder if I have an inability to visualise a dream in the first place. I remember things which happened, sometimes people and places, memories but not dreams.

Are dreams infinite, in sense that they are beyond the limits of reality?

If yes, then I wonder if I can dream about someone to talk to and possibly heartbreaks too.

Sleep does not come. I want to have a dream, right now.

I am the popular lad. I am the obedient son. I excel in sports and studies. People love me. No one envies me. Girls are madly in love with me. Teachers view me as someone who would make them proud one day in future.

I do not fear anyone or anything. My pictures on Instagram and Facebook receive thousand of likes and shares. People praise me in comments. Whatever written in my captions and wall is regarded as absolute philosophy of the highest order.

I have a girlfriend. She loves me and I love her. I go on long drives with her. She tells me about her deepest desires and secrets she never revealed to anyone.

Success is the only thing which happens whenever I try a new thing. Be it music, musical instruments, writing or even filmmaking. I am brilliant at whatever I do and people and my parents love me for it.

I am a good person. I never did harm anyone. I donate blood and I am an organ donor. I do social work and I teach kids in my free time. Kids love me and they call me ‘Bade Bhaiya.’

I am on good terms with my friends, be old or new ones. Relatives are fond of me. They pray for my wellbeing.

Life is good. And I am the human equivalent of the philosopher’s stone. Everything I touch becomes good.

I have managed to make Earth a better place by bringing real peace. People treat each other with respect now. I have treated AIDS and Cancer and global warming and hate.

The weather is good now. Pollution is non-existent along with nuclear weapons. The world does not have any problem, for it is basically a big family now. Vasudheva Kutumbakam.

A dream like this, is far-fetched even for the most imaginative person. I seek sleep, a place away from this nonsense.


Stupid Things in Night (Chapter – 2)

It has been two days.

Lata accepted my friend request, but there was no reply. I did not message her again. She posts a lot of pictures, so I like them. Staring blankly at her pictures provokes no response. I want her to talk to me.

Umesh came yesterday. He wanted to drink beer. He invited me, but I declined. Past knows I cannot hold liquor, even the littlest of it. Anyways, I wanted to stay sober in case Lata replied to my message.

Umesh must have drunk a lot. He was online till 2 AM.

Lata and I sat on one of the benches in Canteen. I said, “So what are you going to do after graduation?”

“I have not think about it.”

“What is there to think? You will either study or marry someone.”

“I can think about these things. They demand a lot. Or I can just stay at home, learn new things or travel.”

“What new things? And travel?”

“Maybe I will learn cooking or knitting. And I want to go to a lot of places.”

“I thought you learnt these household chores growing up.”

“I did not. I used to study then and the rest of the time was spent with friends.”

“What happened to your friends? I think I am your only friend these days.”

“I still keep in touch with my old friends. They are studying in different Colleges. And you are not the only friend I have. Maybe I am the only friend you have.”

“You are right.”

“So what happened with your friends?”

“Same thing. They are studying in different colleges. And I am not great at keeping in touch. You said something about traveling.”

“I will go to Kasauli. It is so beautiful there.”



I remember the day I drank. It was the last day of school. My friends insisted and I declined. But they said about last day of our school and something about memories and friendship. I drank a little then.

It burned my tongue, throat and stomach. I was sick and threw a vomit.

I never drank after that fateful day. I never met my friends after that day either. Sure, I attended their marriages but I went there with no hopes of reunion. And it never happened.

I wonder if they even remember me now.


I feel old.

The Night is so thick, I am sure my shouts will not be able to penetrate it.

I do not like this. I do not like myself.

I fed a street dog yesterday. He seemed happy. He is not present today. I have saved a roti for him.

I look at the walls. They do not have the answers to my queries.

I pickup the phone and type another message to Lata, asking her how she is. And now I wait for her reply.


Stupid Things in Night (Chapter – 1)

I woke up with an unwillingness to start the day’s proceedings. All I wanted to do was lie down, eat and sleep.

So I slept. Morning, afternoon and in evening. Now it is night. Everything has gone silent. I am awake. My back hurts and the bed is uncomfortable. I listen to the same songs again. Repetition is boring. And I am lonely now.

How wonderful it would be to have someone to talk to now, I think. I pick up the phone and go through my Facebook and WhatsApp list. No one to talk to.

I remember things of old days. Mostly school time. College is OK but not memorable. Memories of friends, teachers and crushes come up. And comes this sense of unease. I feel choked with these memories. I get up and walk out of the room.

There is a sudden chill in the wind. It means the arrival of winter. There are hardly any stars in the sky. The only sound comes from the road far away. I go inside.

What a boring person I have become. I was not so. I used to be fun. I remember my friends always laughed when they were with me. But a lot of them got married and have families of their own to support now. I also want to get married. I just have not found a suitable girl yet. Last year father got many proposals from other parents. I turned all of them down. I did not want to get married last year. I was fresh out of College and wanted to live a little. This went on for few months. Lately, there have been no proposals for marriage.

I think about Anjana. She was my classmate. We were best friends for a few months in College before she got herself a boyfriend. She started spending more time with him. Our interactions receded. By the time College ended, she was someone less than a friend but more than an acquaintance. It sucked and I genuinely felt bad when our talks decreased, because she was a good listener.

I want to talk to her. But her Facebook account has been inactive for some time. She must have changed her number, as her WhatsApp status have been invisible to me for a long time. Maybe she has moved on towards the next big things in her life. I feel happiness for a split second. I am happy for her, because she has got things planned. Hardly surprising, since she always knew what to do.

And there was Lata. She was my senior. We met while we participated in inter-class debate competition. From there started the hi-hello in corridors and we progressed to eating lunch and talked often during our free lectures. She was funny. But she graduated soon after.

I did not remember her until today. I search her on Facebook. We have three mutual friends. I also sent a ‘hi’ message along with my friend request.

It is midnight, so the chances of a reply and getting my request accepted are none. I close my eyes and wait for sleep to come.


My old friend

My friend,

I am a memory of your past.

Or I am just living it again in these hours of loneliness.

I am alone now, left by all.

But I remember the days when we were together.

It was schooltime.

We ate together, we played together.

We even got our heart broken together.

So many things between us trapped in memories of a time which has gone and will not return,

despite my nonstop requests.

Bring those times back, is the only phrase I can speak these days.

As if our friendship is only limited to those days.

What happened?

Did life happened to us?

Or it was the distance between us and our talks.

I do not want to be a stranger to you.

Someone you will see years later in crowd and try to avoid.

Damn this life and world and people and their practicality at all times.

A man got to live.

Let him live in his memories.

Do not inflict lonelinesses on more and more people.

Let them meet their friends for once and without any kind of worries and limits.

Let them sit together and laugh over old memories and make new one, together.

Where are your friends tonight?

I do not want to face this question ever again.

I say we must be unluckiest of people on the Earth,

When we have got insane means of communication,

And still we have become a stranger to each other.

I feel trapped with memories.

A man can endure God knows how many heartbreaks,

But the silence of his own friends whom he knew better than himself,

It is defying and something unknown to him.

Make new friends and meet new people,

It is all nice and sunshine.

But where are the old pals of yours?

This is the question I need to answer.

Friends do not come with an expiry date.

My friend, let’s meet someday.

I would like to tell you about this life I’ve lived.

You’d tell me about yours.

Now that we are old, do not fret if you tend to forget the days between your memories of things.

We will fill it mad laughter which will go out in all directions.

Let’s sit down and talk,

Before this flickering light of life goes away or our memory of our years fails us.

My friend.

Floating above the crowd has lead me to things.

I picked up their talks and things and learnt that,

It does not matter what the occasion is,

I will always find ways to make it about me.

I am fascinated with myself.

But, It is you I want to be fascinated with.

I want to talk to you, and maybe play these songs.

Yearning with each day and its hours and minutes is useless.

I know it well.

But, I do not want to strip away these notions to their barebones when it does not work.

Mind’s crazy antiques want to treat you like a treasure and put you up on a pedestal.

It is a stupid thing to think and do.

Irksome, they are.

I can only hope if there is some plan to this limited world of ours,

Then it works out for both of us.

मक्खी का साथ

मक्खी मुँह पर बैठी है। इसे उड़ाना नही है। इस पल सारी दुनिया मेरे खिलाफ है, इस मक्खी का साथ अच्छा है।

कहानी का फ्लेवर मुझे नही पता। तुम पता करना। मैं बात शुरू सुबह से करूँगा।


मैं धनंजय हूँ। मैं मनीपुर का निवासी हूँ। माँ-बाप मार चुके है। मैं अकेला हूँ। अपना खुद का मैं हूँ। सब खुद करता हूँ। यह मेरा परिचय है।

मैं उठा, हगा, सफाई की, नहाया, पूजा की, खाना बनाया, खाया और तैयार होकर नौकरी की तरफ निकल चला।

मैं कंपनी पहुँचा। चंचल की बात सुनाई दी। उसकी बात रोज वाली थी।

‘फ्लाईओवर तेरे ऊपर क्यों नही पड़ा।’

यह बात उसकी रोज की है। चंचल किसी को दिखाई ना देती है। मुझे भी नही। शुरू में मुझे समझ ना आया था। थोड़ी पूछताछ की तो पता लगा यह आवाज़ मन में है। मैंने इसे चंचल नाम दिया।

मैंने इसे परे किया और काम मे लग गया।



मैं खाना खाने के लिये बैठा।

‘पनीर की सब्जी कब खायेगा।’

मैंने सुबह आलू की सब्जी बनाई थी। हफ्ते में दो-तीन बार यही बनाता हूँ। मुझे कोई आपत्ति नही, पर चंचल को है।

मैं पानी पीने गया। मटके में पानी का तापमान सामान्य था।

‘ठंडे पानी की बोतल खरीद।’

यह नई बात थी। ब्रेक खत्म होने में अभी बीस-पच्चीस मिनट थे। मैं पेड़ नीचे बैठकर पार्किंग में लगी गाड़िया देखने लगा।

‘तू कब खरीदेगा।’

यह बात भी नई थी। फिर एक पल के लिए नजर पार्किंग में लगी घास में काम करती महिला पर पड़ी।

‘ब्याह कर ले।’

यह बात भी नई थी। आज चंचल ज्यादा बोल रही थी। मैं उठकर गेट चौकीदार के पास गया। सोचा उससे बात करता।

उसके मुँह का निचला भाग तम्बाकू से भरा था। महक मेरी नाक के बाल फूंक रही थी।

‘इस हरामी के मुँह पर थप्पड़ मार।’

मैं फालतू की बात कर काम पर वापिस लौटा।

‘तेरा हाथ इस मशीन में डाल कर देख।’

मैं पेशाब करने के लिए गया। वहां पैखाने की बदबू तेज थी।

‘सूँघ। तेरे मुँह से ऐसी ही बदबू आती है।’

मैं काम पर लौटा। ऊपर पंखा चल रहा था पर पसीने फिर आ रहे थे। सामने मैनेजर अपने ऑफिस में बैठा था। उसके कमरे में ए०सी० लगा था।

‘ऑफिस में जा और सोफे पर सो जा। मैनेजर को थप्पड़ मार दे।’

मैं काम मे लगा रहा।

एक रुक्का सुना। कंपनी की मालकिन काम देखने को आई थी। वो एक-दो महीने में कभी ही आती थी। मैनेजर और बाकी अफसर अपने ऑफिस से बाहर आ खड़े हुए थे।

‘इसकी गोरी चमड़ी पर हाथ फेर दे। तेरे जीवन के सारे पाप खत्म हो जाएँगे।’

मैं वापिस काम पर लगा रहा। छुट्टी होने में डेढ़ घंटे बचे थे। सुरेश मेरे पास आकर रुपये मांगने लगा। उसे फ़ोन ठीक कराने के लिए चाहिए थे। मेरे पास बचत के रुपये थे। मैं मना करना चाहता था, पर मना ना किया गया।

‘तू इंसान है या चटाई है।’

मैंने मैनेजर को देखा। हमे काम करते देख रहा था। उसके गले मे सोने की चैन दिखी।

‘छीन कर भाग जा। तू बनवा तो सकता नही है।’

काम खत्म हुआ। पर चंचल बोलती रही।

मैं साईकल लेकर कंपनी से चल पड़ा।



मैं घर आ रहा था। साईकल को लेकर पैदल चल रहा था। एक जगह ट्यूब फट गई थी। ट्यूब के रुपये सुरेश के पास थे।

मेरे साथी और अन्य बंदे मोटरसाइकिल पर जा रहे थे। चंचल अब भी चुप ना हुई थी। मुझे बार-बार नाकारा, नालायक कहे जा रही थी। मैं थका हुआ था। इसे दूर करने की शक्ति मुझमें ना थी। मैंने चुप होने को कहा, पर उसने मेरी ना सुनी। मजाक मन मे था, दुनिया हँसती लग रही थी।

मैं पैदल चलकर, साईकल घसीटता, किसी तरह घर पहुँचा। चंचल बराबर बोल रही थी।

मैंने रुपये लिए पर साईकल को घर ही छोड़ दिया। मैं ठेके की ओर निकला।



मक्खी मुँह पर बैठी है। चंचल बराबर बोल रही है। उसकी बातों से लगता है दुनिया मेरे खिलाफ है।

मैं कुछ करूँ, पर अभी नशे में हूँ।

रात के इस पहर, मैं हांडू चुप होया,
कोई उठ जावै, न्यु पाप ना करणा।
एक बात सिरहाने रख सोया था सावण म्ह,
इब रात नै बीते वक़्त की बात खोजूं मैं।

हैरान होवण की कोशिश करियो मित्तर मेरे,
जब बताऊँ कि किन कमियां साथ जीया गया।
बेरा भी होवै मन नै सब किमी बेशक़,
कुणसे घूंट का स्वाद कीसा था।
मेरी शिकायत हजार, अर भ्रम एक,
पैर राह भूलगे या रास्ता नया बणा दिया।

आजादी (भाग-2)

भाग 1 पढ़ने के लिए क्लिक करे।

मैं अभी रो रहा हूँ। मेरे आँसू तुम्हे ना दिखेंगे। बता रहा हूँ, मान लो। बियर मुझे भावुक कर देती है।

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