Thursday, August 13, 2009

Who is the real father of Pakistan- a retrospective analysis

“Few individuals significantly alter the course of history. Fewer still modify the world map. Hardly anyone can be credited with creating a nation. Md. Ali Jinnah did all the three”, wrote Jinnah’s biographer Stanley Wolpert, describing life of history’s one of the greatest statesman.

Although we all seem to credit (or rather say discredit) Jinnah for partitioning India and creating the state of Pakistan out of it, this may not be the truth. On a different and yet novel perspective, Nehru and not Jinnah is the real father of Pakistan. The man who is frequently blamed for breaking India was once known as the brand ambassador of Hindu-Muslim unity. In accepting the Cabinet Mission Plan, it can be argued that Jinnah tried to keep India united (although it favoured his vested interests too). The man, who scoffed at Muslims as a separate nation and mulishly insisted that all were Indians, was the man who, when push came to shove, gave India that one last push towards partition by rejecting the plan. It is true that if Pt. Nehru had accepted the Cabinet Mission Plan, India would have remained united.

Nehru most probably thought of Jinnah and his Muslims as headache and the only solution he thought of was to rather cut off the head. He didn’t like Jinnah, to put it mildly. He wanted him out so that he could rule India unchallenged. When Lord Mountbatten took Gandhi’s proposal to Nehru that Jinnah be made independent India’s first Prime Minister, he couldn’t accept the notion of subordination to Jinnah and remarked,” the old man has lost it all.” In a land where it takes long stretches in prison to cut one’s political teeth, there wasn’t any single arrest warrant against Jinnah. He fought and won all his battles on the intellectual plane. He spoke to the Muslim masses in English, an alien language they didn’t understand, and yet he galvanized them. In a way, Jinnah was incredible.

There are striking coincidences too- Jawaharlal broke the Indian Subcontinent into two. Twenty-four years later, his daughter divided it into three. Nehru was a competent leader who changed the course of history for good or for bad. He had electrifying and yet, double personality. There was the westernized Nehru; Harrow and Cambridge,’ Fabian –Socialist’ and there was the Hindu Nehru that always came to the fore during crunch times, using the argument of secularism to deny Muslims their separate identity, insisting all were Indians only and could be represented by Congress alone. Today, his secularism lies in tatters, proving Jinnah and his two-nation theory right.

Great soldier Mountbatten might have been, but a great leader he certainly wasn’t, just a mediocre dictator whom Nehru played like harp. Though Nehru had a chance, he preferred partition rather than having a superior Jinnah and the Muslim ‘headache’ as constant irritants.

बारिश की एहसास

हलकी सी रौशनी आए
झूमे यह हवाएं
पंशी गुनगुनाये
छाई है देखो कैसी काली यह घटाएं

भीनी-भीनी सी खुशबु लाये
कलिया मुस्कुराये,
बारिश के बूंदों के बीच
देखो कोयलिया मधुर संगीत सुनाएं

आँगन में नाचे मयूरी मगन
कही दूर,बाजे पायलिया छ्न-छ्न
लहरायें यह मृदु पवन
खुशी से झूमें आज मेरा भी मन



Saturday, August 8, 2009

इंतज़ार क्यों?

This is one of my earliest hindi writes,most of which are lost now. written way back in 2007.

चन्द लम्हे,कुछ पल
न जाने कैसी मचा गयी हलचल
उसकी हर बातें,हर मुलाकातें
आज क्यों सताए मुझे हरपल !

टिप टिप बूंदे बारिश की
चेहरे पे रौशनी चंदा की
आज इतना क्यों भाये मुझे
शायद असर है मिलने का तुझे

जबसे खोया तेरी खयालो में
हुई चाय ठंडी न जाने कितनी प्यालो में
वोह हर एक धुन तेरी
लगती है मुझे आज भी प्यारी बड़ी

पर शायद
मेरे ख़त का आज तुझे इंतज़ार नहीं
मुझसे मिलनी की तुझमे कोई चाह नहीं
मेरे लव्स तुझे याद नहीं
देखे थे जो सपने साथ
शायद आज वोह हसीन नहीं

मेरा प्यार आज तेरा दिल नहीं बहलाती
मेरे ख्वाब,मेरी याद शायद तुझे नहीं सताती
सोचता हूँ कभी-आखिर इंतज़ार क्यों
जब बिन जवाब राह ही देखना है यू?

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Wasted

Yesterday maybe I was wrong
Thinking you were for me,all along
Wasted time with you
When I could have played ping-pong

You didn't treat me nice
When hungry,offered me just plain rice
Thought,would get sweets and ice
And meat,couldn't even ask twice !

I thought,for me you did care
But,when I laid my heart bare
All I get is your angry stare
I swear,your red eyes did scare

I thought,you might change
With me,stop acting strange
Stop shouting that hard
Already deaf,surely gonna make me retard

When you left
You took a piece of me
As if everything mine is just free
Bargaining my heart shamelessly
Like you do when on a shopping spree !

I see you in my dream
Thank God, you can't scream !
You walk to me,I run from you
Even when you threw at me your shoe
We can't glue,I knew.



Saturday, August 1, 2009

I'm Trying

You hear me? I'm trying
Just to have a glimpse of you
I'm dying
Every other rule I wanna be defying
That I love you,I'm not denying.

I hear you every night and day
Am I indifferent?nay you say
You are safe in my heart
You make it easy when life hits hard

Every night I rush to my bed
Hoping to see you before its too late
I feel you,I dream of you
Lost in a fairytale-the angel being you

Maybe the clouds seem to spry
Yet stars lit the night sky
Wanna feel the breeze and rain;and I
Will sing for you the perfect lullaby

Maybe I was a bit too lost
I never knew how hard it would cost
Guess I wasn't so right
Never meant to pick up a fight

I may say that I don't care
You may feel a rising flare
But, haven't you seen my heart bare?
A moment for me,can't you spare?

A sweet dream or a perfect nightmare
Either way,for you I do care
Wanna sail through the sea
To meet you
In a place as perfect as it can be

We'll sing, we'll dance
As if in a trance
Let music of breeze fill through your ear
Let me put a flower on your hair

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

A beggar's account

Sober and thirsty
With flaccid muscles,weary looks
His tattered clothes resemble a crook
Distinct smelly,disheveled hair
Still he ain't drasty

With heavy steps
Begs for alms at each doorstep
It ain't that he's just refused
Made fun of,rather abused
With dreary looks,he still stands amused

Yet
He can't fight back
Self-respect,he's supposed to lack
Can't hum with the wind
To the warmth of the sunshine,he's blind

With so hard-earned bread
For him,every cent counts
At times,a tear or two he does shed
Thinking of those numerous accounts
Of miseries untold,dreams unfulfilled

Realizes the futility of his existence
A picture of human persistence
With an empty bowl as thy sole comrade
His journey seems to have just begun
With each rising sun