The two of them were sitting on their evening bench as usual watching the birds, the water and the sunset, not in any particular order of priority. She wore her favorite skirt, the one that bothered him every time she wore it. "Honey it looks great as long as it is in the closet!" he had said in the manner Ford had spoken about his Model T's. Both had been wrong and she knew it. She therefore never acknowledged that statement even with a grunt for a response. This was their usual reprieve from the everyday bustle that they indulged in as one would in a hobby of some sort and she felt it reasonable to spend it comfortably.
On the surface anyone who knew them individually would never expect them to be a couple. But when they were together, everyone agreed that they were as inseperable as neodymium magnets - that is, everyone who knew what neodymium magnets were. They spoke different languages, but they had been successful in building their tower of Babel.
She started giggling in the midst of the flight of a few pigeons across the orange sky in front of them. Sensing a delightful conversation in the making, he turned a smile and then his head toward her asking her to let him into that delightful and convoluted world in her head that only he had been successful in mapping out. She continued to giggle and now she shrugged her shoulders and leaned forward a little while attempting to cover her giggle with one hand indicating that even though she wanted to tell him what she had been thinking about she would be embarassed about it. He continued to look at her in his relaxed posture and then smiled inquiringly, prodding her to go on and tell him. In part he was reminding her about their promise to each other to never hide any thoughts no matter what it was.
"Nooo! Hehehe!", she said.
"What is it sweetie? Tell me..."
"Noooo, I don't know if I should. Hehe!"
"Why, what is it?" He asked while not prodding her too much - an effort that he was still hoping would result in her doing the same towards him. Their promise of unbriddled, uncensored, honest, open communication between them had cost him the most in terms of efforts made to change. His method of dealing with situations was to take off for a little, clear his head, think the situation through and then rejoin her - he needed his space from time to time. She was the type of person who wanted to solve issues by talking it out and discussing every one of the details with him - she believed that they were two different bodies only because she didn't have anything to say about it when they were being made!
"No, do you remember our argument yesterday?" she asked.
"Uh huh...", he affirmed.
"No you took so long to tell me what was bothering you so much. I had to beg you so much before you would tell me.", she seemed to complain.
"Yeah, but that's how I deal with things. Don't you think I should have some space of my own every now and then?" He demanded, while simultaneously feeling proud of his 'very masculine' behavior trait. The idea of 'Brutus the stoic' came back to his mind from his high school days.
"Yeah, that's what I was finding very funny!" she answered.
He just screwed up his face requesting an explanation as he didn't understand what on earth was so funny.
"Hehehe!" Was all she offered.
"No, what was so funny?"
"Hehe! But I don't think I should tell you!" she said coyly. This would take some more begging on his behalf.
Anticipating this he replied, "No, please tell me"
"Hehe, no, I really don't think I should", she said.
"No seriously, don't worry about it. Just tell me." He assured her.
"Hmmmm, I most probably shouldn't.", she persisted.
"Okay, fine then, I don't want to know," this was the final call, you either boarded the train now or headed back home. He also knew fully well that she absolutely wouldn't fall for this reverse psychology trick. She had seen this before. She would just totally ignore that statement.
As if on queue, she carried on nonchalant, "If you promise me that you will not use this information or change your behavior after listening to this, I will tell you."
"Hahaha! You're ridiculous! You're laying down terms and conditions for me when I don't even want to know!" He said trying to provide his previous statement some credibility, failing miserably.
"NO! But I HAVE to tell you. Remember our promise - we have to tell each other EVERYTHING." She continued relentlessly.
"No, it's fine by me. I don't mind. Let's not tell each other everything." he said making yet another attempt to gain his own space.
"No, I HAVE to tell you, but you HAVE to promise me that you won't let this affect you in any way!" she shot his attempt down like a champion skeet shooter. Bam! Poof!
This was the last round. She knew she had him. She made a puppy dog face and looked up at him through those big hazel eyes.
"Hahahaha! SWEETIE! Fine, I won't change my behavior. Just tell me."
"But you have to say the words 'I promise...'", she demanded further. This wasn't going to float well with him.
"No, I don't have to say the words. I said I won't change my behavior, that itself qualifies as a promise from me." he said with an ever widening chest, basking in the sunlight of masculinity.
"Okay, so you remember yesterday's thing right..." she said moving closer to him. She cuddled up with him, put her head on his chest, and hugged him with both her hands. He put one arm around her. She continued, "You said you didn't want to talk about it, but you rally want to tell me, but your sense of 'manhood' gets in your way. That's why you wait until I ask you so many times right?"
She clung on harder while he struggled to get free.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Google Zone?
I was talking to G about her classes and she told me about this concept that she had learnt where projections of the future saw that there would be two major content providers in the future - either Google or MSN.
Ofcourse this was a bleak picture to me because if the only, truly free and unbridlled domain in this world was then going to be duopolized by these two, what would happen to free speech and the little guys opinions? But I was feeling better rather quickly because this wasn't the first time someone tried to seize the internet and make it their own, it has happened before and what's more, the internet has overcome every such attempt.
But the question is how will it do so this time? How will we netizens (I hate these kinds of words but they convey the point rather efficiently) play a role in this? What do we lilliputs have in our basket of tricks that will enable us to thwart the efforts of these giants? ANY thoughts are welcome on Imagine Carbon, our Google-sponsored blog site.
Ofcourse this was a bleak picture to me because if the only, truly free and unbridlled domain in this world was then going to be duopolized by these two, what would happen to free speech and the little guys opinions? But I was feeling better rather quickly because this wasn't the first time someone tried to seize the internet and make it their own, it has happened before and what's more, the internet has overcome every such attempt.
But the question is how will it do so this time? How will we netizens (I hate these kinds of words but they convey the point rather efficiently) play a role in this? What do we lilliputs have in our basket of tricks that will enable us to thwart the efforts of these giants? ANY thoughts are welcome on Imagine Carbon, our Google-sponsored blog site.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Lahore ke izzat ke rakhwaale
Ustaad Lahore mein jaane maane the aur unki khabar door door tak phaili hui thi. Waqai, Dilli mein bhi unke baare mein khusur phusur hoti rehti. Naturally, kaee aur Ustaadein bhi unki shaan aur shaukat ko challenge karne ke liye kabhi kabhi Lahore aa jaate the. Jab wo aate, poore sheher mein hal chal much jaati aur show ke sab tikat bik jaate. (Log “Ek tikat, do nishaan!” sochke khareed lete; yeh bolne ki zaroorat nahin hai ki red tamaatar bhi black mein bikne lagte. Ha ha ha! Abbe chup!)
Tho ek din Ustaad Charan Biryani Khan ko Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Ali Khan – urf House Full Saaheb – se ek sandesh aaya. Ustaad postcard ko pad hi rahe the ki unke begum aangan se andar aate, unko pooche, “Tho miyan kya aap us Ustaad-Wustaad, Mote-Gote se ladne waale hai ki main choodiyan-woodiyan le aane ko boldu?”
“Begum, aap choodiyaan le aane ko bolengi tho bhi mujhe hee bolengi na? Mai khareed loonga, aap chinta kyoon karte hai?” Ustaad thoda bahot chidkar apne begum ko samjhaye. Begum krodit ho kar unko ghoorne lage. Ustad bhay-bheet ho kar subject badal daale. “Par aapko is chhitti ke baare mein kaise pata hai? Abhi abhi tho mere haath mein aayeen hai…” Ustaad thoda bahot hairaan hoke pooche; unko phikar thi ki unki begum kayeen antar-yaami tho ho nahin gayi thee.
“Abhi abhi Sundari bathaake gayi,” begum bole.
“Yeh Sundari kaun hai?” Ustaad namrata se, kuch apne utsaah ko dabaye, pooche.
“Wohi, Postman ki bhains!” Begumne jawaab dee.
Ustaad apne sar ko thoda bahot zor se maarne lage.
“Tho bolo miyan, choodiyan ki tamatar?”
“…”
“Tho thai ho gayi, aap is Mote-Gote ko Dilli-ki-Billi banaake waapas bhejdenge! Warna…”
Tho Friday, tera tareek ki raat ko, Madhosh Khan Stadium mein poore Lahore jama ho gaya. (Baahar sab tamaatar stall par “Sold-Out” ki board laga hua tha. Tamatar ki kami se Bhel-puri ki stand bhi bandh hogayee thee. Par aap chinta mat kare, sab log moohnphali kha rahe the.) Har chehre par muskaan, aur dil mein is lok ke har ek sadasy ke liye pyaar aur dosti ki bhaawana thee. Jaise Olympics dekhne waqt hota hai, waise.
Andar, poora stadium safed rang paint kiya gaya tha. Us safedi mein, chaar concentric rings paint kiye gaye the. Center mein ek laal rang ki ek badi si bindu paint kiya gaya tha, jis par dono Ustadon ke liye laal gadde bichaye gaye the. Yeh rangeen raat abhi shuru hone hee waala tha.
MCji us laal rang waali circle mein aaye. Woh thoda bahot Elvis namak aadmi se milte julte the. Spotlight unke oopar padi tho MCji mike haath mein liye bole, “Sajjano aur khoobsoorat Sajjaniyon," Yahaan, effect ke liye thoda pause kiye, phir continue kee: "...aapke aane ki bahot bahot shukriyan. Jaise aap jaante heen honge, aaj raat, Lahore ki shaan aur shauqat – waqai, uski izzat ko – Dilli ke ek Ustaad ne lalkaara hai.”
Audience se koi chillaya “HAAN PATHA HAI SAALE!”
MCji patient type ke the, tho mind nahin kiyen. “Hum aaj, us ghustaaki ki jawaab deke hee ranhenge!”
“HAAN, PATHA HAI KAMEENE!”
MCji patient type ke the, tho mind nahin kiyen. “Ustaad Charan Biryani Khan woh jawaab Lahore ke taraf se denge, aur weh mere left mein baithe hai.”
“HAAN, PATHA HAI BHOSDI KE!”
MCji ko thoda bahot ghussa aayee, par kuch bole nahin. “Aur, Dilli ke mashoor, Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Ali Khan…” Aur wo jaldi se chalaang maarke, opposite side audience ko face karte bole, “…bhi mere left mein baithe hain! Ha ha ha!”
Stadium mein sannaata chah gaya. Ek minute ke baad kiseene chillaakar bola, “NAHEEEEEEEEEEN! WOH HAMAARE RIGHT PE BAITHE HAI!”
“HAAN, PATA HAI HARRAAM JAADE!” MCji unko daantthe hue bole. “AAPKI AUR KUCH WISHESH TIPPANI NAHIN HO THO HUM SHURU KAREN? HAAN JI? NAHIN NAHIN, POORI RAAT HAI, AAP JO BOLNA CHAAHE BOL LEEJIYE! NAHIN? SAALA, BADA AAYA…”
Tho shuru hui. Athithi hone ke naate, Ustaad Mote Khan shuru kiye:
“Arz hai…
Kehte hai ki tum shayar ho,
Par tere labz shayari to hai nahin,
Shabnam phool par baitthi hai magar,
Usko baarish bolte nahin!”
Log zor zor se “WAH! WAH!” kahe. Turant, Ustad Mote Khan – urf House Full Sahed – apni sundar groupie ko nihaare. Uski naam Rambha thi. (Waise dekhe tho, Ramba ko bhi 'House-Full Saahibaan' bulaate the, par kuch alag se kaaran ke liye...*ahem*) Ustaad Mote Khan unko ek surreptitious flying chummi bheje, aur apne hont ko gheela kiye. Ramba, kuch sharmilee hoke hus padi, aur unke mooh mein ek paan daal diya.
Ustaad Biryani Khan us shayari ki jawaab diye:
“Chilla chilla ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Hai ki nahin?
CHILLA, CHILLA ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Janaab, agle labzon ko dhyaan se suniyega!
Chilla chilla ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Par woh kutta bhi kutta kya,
Jo patthar marne par bhonktha nahin!”
Audience poori tarah has pada. Kuch log apne aap ko sambhal nahin sake aur apne apne kursiyon se gir bhi gaye. Ustaad khush ho kar baaju mein dekhe tho sirf Anmol miyaan dikhai pade. Ustaad apni paan khudh mooh mein daale.
“Saale, dekh loonga!” Ustaad Mote Khan ghoorte huey bole.
“Dekh mat, sun lena, mote!” Ustaad Biryani Khan uttar diye.
Audience us comment pe bhi has pade; lag raha tha ki wae thai karlee thee ki who aaj poora paisa wasool karke hee jaayenge. Unko dekhthe, Ustaad Mote Ali Khan aage bade:
“Log hasenge hee teri shayari pe, jaanwar saale sub ke sub,
Bandaron ko sirf kela chahiye, adrak khaate dikhe kab!
Shayari mein dard hona chaahiye, shayari mein hona chaiye mohabbat,
Par dard yaha sirf mere kaanon ko hua hai, bhaad mein jaye tu, kambakhat!”
Audience “Ooooohhhhh!!!! Insult!” bole. Kuch log, apne apne tamaatar phenke, par sab miss ho gaye. Ustaad Biryani Khan ready the:
“Dumroon hai mere haath mein saale,
Karoonga main usko dugu dugu,
Patti hai tere galein mein mote,
Behn-chod, hojaon palti karne shuru!”
Audience poori tarah paagal ho gayi! Huste huste logon ke aankhon mein se paani aana shuru ho gaya. Do teen kele bhi phenke gaye. Ustad Biryani Khan apne aap pein bahot naaz karne lage. Unke do teen shishy unke haaton ko massage karne bhi lage. Ustaad Ramba ko aankh maarein. Ramba “Hrmph!” kehke kahin aur dekhne lagi.
Ustaad Mote Khan bahot krodit ho gaye. Woh desperate hone lage kyon ki woh jo bhi karte, Ustaad Biryani Khan uska jawaab sina thaan ke de rahe the. Woh do teen minute soche phir Ramba ke kaanon mein kuch khusur phusur kiye. Ramba sharmake thoda has padi. Ustaad Mote Khan ek sinister hasi has liye, aur aage badhe:
“Gande labzon se ladne se,
Karoonga nahin main kuch bada kaam,
Has jayegi saari jagat,
Par rahoonga main sirf badnaam.
Mere wise Papa kehthe thai,
‘Agar jeet mein hona hai shamil,
Dushman ko haraana hee hai,
Tho chalaao teer uske dil!’”
Audience par thoda bahot sannaata chhaa gayi. Logon ko pata nahin chala ki wo hase ki wo roye. (Ustaad Mote ke Papa ki guzarjaane ki khabar se weh thoda sad se ho gaye. Kya kare.) Ustaad Biryani Khan bhi thoda bahot stumped se ho gaye. Phir bhi, wo aage bade:
“Baat karte ho man chaahe jitni,
Tike raho topic pe Dilli ke shayar!”
Ramba devi suddenly Ustaad Biryani Khan ko aankh maari, aur thoda bahot sharmeeli hoke baith gayee. Maano Ustaad ke dil pe bijli gir gayi. Ustaad thoda bahot distract ho gaye par aage badhne ki koshish kee:
Weh bole, “Insult karo…” Itne mein, Ramba devi ki dupatta achanak sarak gayi. Ustaad ki seeti baj gayi aur unke maathe pe paseena aana shuru ho gaya. Weh mesmerised jaise ho gaye. Par do teen minute ke silence ke baad, woh aage badhne ki try phirse kiye:
“…karna hai jitni,”
Ustaad itna heen bol paaye jab Ramba devi ke haathon se ek gulaab choot kar zameen pe gir gayi! Ramba devi Ustaad Biryani Khan ke taraf dekhe, apne bhare, raseele honton ko kaate, aur us gulaab ko neeche reach karke lene hee wale the – aur uh…Ustaad Biryani Khan ko unko ‘House-Full Saahibaan’ naam se bulaane ki reason pata hee hone waala tha – jab Moti view mein aa gayi. Moti poora krod se aankh baboola ho gayi thee!
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!”
Ustaad chillakar unke gadde ke peeche chalaang maar liye kyonki woh jaante the ki Moti – jyaada nahin, thoda bahot – possessive type ki thee! Moti unke taraf sir hilaaye, jaise bol rahe the ki woh unko ghar pe dekhlegi. Uske baad Moti apni sir mod lee, aur Ustaad Mote Ali Khan aur Ramba devi ko nihaare. Moti sir hilaayi aur ab lag raha tha jaise dhai hazaar bhains abhi charge karne waale hain. Phir kuch aur kahe bina Moti unpe waar kar lee.
Itne mein audience ko Ustaad Mote Ali Khan ke gehri saajish ke baare mein khabar ho gayi. “CHEEEAATING!” bolke, sab log apne Lahore ke izzat ko lalkaarnewaalon par badla lene ke liye khade ho gaye. Unme tehelka mach gaya. Saare angle se tamaatar, tarbooj, bataata, kursiyaan, aur chappal udne lage.
Unhi udthe cheezon ke beech, Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Khan aur Ramba devi udthe dikhai pade!
Aadab huzoor!
Tho ek din Ustaad Charan Biryani Khan ko Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Ali Khan – urf House Full Saaheb – se ek sandesh aaya. Ustaad postcard ko pad hi rahe the ki unke begum aangan se andar aate, unko pooche, “Tho miyan kya aap us Ustaad-Wustaad, Mote-Gote se ladne waale hai ki main choodiyan-woodiyan le aane ko boldu?”
“Begum, aap choodiyaan le aane ko bolengi tho bhi mujhe hee bolengi na? Mai khareed loonga, aap chinta kyoon karte hai?” Ustaad thoda bahot chidkar apne begum ko samjhaye. Begum krodit ho kar unko ghoorne lage. Ustad bhay-bheet ho kar subject badal daale. “Par aapko is chhitti ke baare mein kaise pata hai? Abhi abhi tho mere haath mein aayeen hai…” Ustaad thoda bahot hairaan hoke pooche; unko phikar thi ki unki begum kayeen antar-yaami tho ho nahin gayi thee.
“Abhi abhi Sundari bathaake gayi,” begum bole.
“Yeh Sundari kaun hai?” Ustaad namrata se, kuch apne utsaah ko dabaye, pooche.
“Wohi, Postman ki bhains!” Begumne jawaab dee.
Ustaad apne sar ko thoda bahot zor se maarne lage.
“Tho bolo miyan, choodiyan ki tamatar?”
“…”
“Tho thai ho gayi, aap is Mote-Gote ko Dilli-ki-Billi banaake waapas bhejdenge! Warna…”
Tho Friday, tera tareek ki raat ko, Madhosh Khan Stadium mein poore Lahore jama ho gaya. (Baahar sab tamaatar stall par “Sold-Out” ki board laga hua tha. Tamatar ki kami se Bhel-puri ki stand bhi bandh hogayee thee. Par aap chinta mat kare, sab log moohnphali kha rahe the.) Har chehre par muskaan, aur dil mein is lok ke har ek sadasy ke liye pyaar aur dosti ki bhaawana thee. Jaise Olympics dekhne waqt hota hai, waise.
Andar, poora stadium safed rang paint kiya gaya tha. Us safedi mein, chaar concentric rings paint kiye gaye the. Center mein ek laal rang ki ek badi si bindu paint kiya gaya tha, jis par dono Ustadon ke liye laal gadde bichaye gaye the. Yeh rangeen raat abhi shuru hone hee waala tha.
MCji us laal rang waali circle mein aaye. Woh thoda bahot Elvis namak aadmi se milte julte the. Spotlight unke oopar padi tho MCji mike haath mein liye bole, “Sajjano aur khoobsoorat Sajjaniyon," Yahaan, effect ke liye thoda pause kiye, phir continue kee: "...aapke aane ki bahot bahot shukriyan. Jaise aap jaante heen honge, aaj raat, Lahore ki shaan aur shauqat – waqai, uski izzat ko – Dilli ke ek Ustaad ne lalkaara hai.”
Audience se koi chillaya “HAAN PATHA HAI SAALE!”
MCji patient type ke the, tho mind nahin kiyen. “Hum aaj, us ghustaaki ki jawaab deke hee ranhenge!”
“HAAN, PATHA HAI KAMEENE!”
MCji patient type ke the, tho mind nahin kiyen. “Ustaad Charan Biryani Khan woh jawaab Lahore ke taraf se denge, aur weh mere left mein baithe hai.”
“HAAN, PATHA HAI BHOSDI KE!”
MCji ko thoda bahot ghussa aayee, par kuch bole nahin. “Aur, Dilli ke mashoor, Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Ali Khan…” Aur wo jaldi se chalaang maarke, opposite side audience ko face karte bole, “…bhi mere left mein baithe hain! Ha ha ha!”
Stadium mein sannaata chah gaya. Ek minute ke baad kiseene chillaakar bola, “NAHEEEEEEEEEEN! WOH HAMAARE RIGHT PE BAITHE HAI!”
“HAAN, PATA HAI HARRAAM JAADE!” MCji unko daantthe hue bole. “AAPKI AUR KUCH WISHESH TIPPANI NAHIN HO THO HUM SHURU KAREN? HAAN JI? NAHIN NAHIN, POORI RAAT HAI, AAP JO BOLNA CHAAHE BOL LEEJIYE! NAHIN? SAALA, BADA AAYA…”
Tho shuru hui. Athithi hone ke naate, Ustaad Mote Khan shuru kiye:
“Arz hai…
Kehte hai ki tum shayar ho,
Par tere labz shayari to hai nahin,
Shabnam phool par baitthi hai magar,
Usko baarish bolte nahin!”
Log zor zor se “WAH! WAH!” kahe. Turant, Ustad Mote Khan – urf House Full Sahed – apni sundar groupie ko nihaare. Uski naam Rambha thi. (Waise dekhe tho, Ramba ko bhi 'House-Full Saahibaan' bulaate the, par kuch alag se kaaran ke liye...*ahem*) Ustaad Mote Khan unko ek surreptitious flying chummi bheje, aur apne hont ko gheela kiye. Ramba, kuch sharmilee hoke hus padi, aur unke mooh mein ek paan daal diya.
Ustaad Biryani Khan us shayari ki jawaab diye:
“Chilla chilla ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Hai ki nahin?
CHILLA, CHILLA ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Janaab, agle labzon ko dhyaan se suniyega!
Chilla chilla ke bolte ho tum,
Ki shayari mujhe aati nahin,
Par woh kutta bhi kutta kya,
Jo patthar marne par bhonktha nahin!”
Audience poori tarah has pada. Kuch log apne aap ko sambhal nahin sake aur apne apne kursiyon se gir bhi gaye. Ustaad khush ho kar baaju mein dekhe tho sirf Anmol miyaan dikhai pade. Ustaad apni paan khudh mooh mein daale.
“Saale, dekh loonga!” Ustaad Mote Khan ghoorte huey bole.
“Dekh mat, sun lena, mote!” Ustaad Biryani Khan uttar diye.
Audience us comment pe bhi has pade; lag raha tha ki wae thai karlee thee ki who aaj poora paisa wasool karke hee jaayenge. Unko dekhthe, Ustaad Mote Ali Khan aage bade:
“Log hasenge hee teri shayari pe, jaanwar saale sub ke sub,
Bandaron ko sirf kela chahiye, adrak khaate dikhe kab!
Shayari mein dard hona chaahiye, shayari mein hona chaiye mohabbat,
Par dard yaha sirf mere kaanon ko hua hai, bhaad mein jaye tu, kambakhat!”
Audience “Ooooohhhhh!!!! Insult!” bole. Kuch log, apne apne tamaatar phenke, par sab miss ho gaye. Ustaad Biryani Khan ready the:
“Dumroon hai mere haath mein saale,
Karoonga main usko dugu dugu,
Patti hai tere galein mein mote,
Behn-chod, hojaon palti karne shuru!”
Audience poori tarah paagal ho gayi! Huste huste logon ke aankhon mein se paani aana shuru ho gaya. Do teen kele bhi phenke gaye. Ustad Biryani Khan apne aap pein bahot naaz karne lage. Unke do teen shishy unke haaton ko massage karne bhi lage. Ustaad Ramba ko aankh maarein. Ramba “Hrmph!” kehke kahin aur dekhne lagi.
Ustaad Mote Khan bahot krodit ho gaye. Woh desperate hone lage kyon ki woh jo bhi karte, Ustaad Biryani Khan uska jawaab sina thaan ke de rahe the. Woh do teen minute soche phir Ramba ke kaanon mein kuch khusur phusur kiye. Ramba sharmake thoda has padi. Ustaad Mote Khan ek sinister hasi has liye, aur aage badhe:
“Gande labzon se ladne se,
Karoonga nahin main kuch bada kaam,
Has jayegi saari jagat,
Par rahoonga main sirf badnaam.
Mere wise Papa kehthe thai,
‘Agar jeet mein hona hai shamil,
Dushman ko haraana hee hai,
Tho chalaao teer uske dil!’”
Audience par thoda bahot sannaata chhaa gayi. Logon ko pata nahin chala ki wo hase ki wo roye. (Ustaad Mote ke Papa ki guzarjaane ki khabar se weh thoda sad se ho gaye. Kya kare.) Ustaad Biryani Khan bhi thoda bahot stumped se ho gaye. Phir bhi, wo aage bade:
“Baat karte ho man chaahe jitni,
Tike raho topic pe Dilli ke shayar!”
Ramba devi suddenly Ustaad Biryani Khan ko aankh maari, aur thoda bahot sharmeeli hoke baith gayee. Maano Ustaad ke dil pe bijli gir gayi. Ustaad thoda bahot distract ho gaye par aage badhne ki koshish kee:
Weh bole, “Insult karo…” Itne mein, Ramba devi ki dupatta achanak sarak gayi. Ustaad ki seeti baj gayi aur unke maathe pe paseena aana shuru ho gaya. Weh mesmerised jaise ho gaye. Par do teen minute ke silence ke baad, woh aage badhne ki try phirse kiye:
“…karna hai jitni,”
Ustaad itna heen bol paaye jab Ramba devi ke haathon se ek gulaab choot kar zameen pe gir gayi! Ramba devi Ustaad Biryani Khan ke taraf dekhe, apne bhare, raseele honton ko kaate, aur us gulaab ko neeche reach karke lene hee wale the – aur uh…Ustaad Biryani Khan ko unko ‘House-Full Saahibaan’ naam se bulaane ki reason pata hee hone waala tha – jab Moti view mein aa gayi. Moti poora krod se aankh baboola ho gayi thee!
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!”
Ustaad chillakar unke gadde ke peeche chalaang maar liye kyonki woh jaante the ki Moti – jyaada nahin, thoda bahot – possessive type ki thee! Moti unke taraf sir hilaaye, jaise bol rahe the ki woh unko ghar pe dekhlegi. Uske baad Moti apni sir mod lee, aur Ustaad Mote Ali Khan aur Ramba devi ko nihaare. Moti sir hilaayi aur ab lag raha tha jaise dhai hazaar bhains abhi charge karne waale hain. Phir kuch aur kahe bina Moti unpe waar kar lee.
Itne mein audience ko Ustaad Mote Ali Khan ke gehri saajish ke baare mein khabar ho gayi. “CHEEEAATING!” bolke, sab log apne Lahore ke izzat ko lalkaarnewaalon par badla lene ke liye khade ho gaye. Unme tehelka mach gaya. Saare angle se tamaatar, tarbooj, bataata, kursiyaan, aur chappal udne lage.
Unhi udthe cheezon ke beech, Ustaad Mote Kha Chuke Khan aur Ramba devi udthe dikhai pade!
Aadab huzoor!
Monday, July 04, 2005
Deaf Dancers
This was a link forwarded to me by my sister. All the dancers are deaf and are coordinating with the music through visual signals being provided by the people standing on the sides of the stage. Check it out and post your reactions.
http://www.cse.ohio-state.edu/~panugant/downloads/chineese.wmv
http://www.cse.ohio-state.edu/~panugant/downloads/chineese.wmv
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