Dust

मंत्र नंबर 205 / Mantra Number 205

गद्य काव्य/ Prose Poem
जल  ही  जीवन  है/ Water is life.
[Source – Unsplash]

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देर हो गई इतनी, मैं सोचूँ तो बोलू इतनी कितनी?

कई मंत्र जप्पे थे, कई जाने थे, अब आई बात समझ जाकर नंबर 205 पर।

उमर होगी मेरी 88-90, बोलो फिर कहाँ पाले मैंने इतने मंत्र?

हाँ तो मैंने फिर जाना की माना इस्कूल में पढ़ाया था जल ही जीवन है,

मैं गई भूल, अब आई बात समझ जाकर नंबर 205 पर।

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अब खा लूँ मैं जल, पी लूँ मैं जल, करलूं सफाई जीवन भर,

जल ही औषधि, जल ही प्राण और मैं राख,

जल नाले-नदी -झरने -समंदर में, जल मेरी मटकी में और मटकी मेरे सर पर,

मटकी टूटी तो जल ज़मीन-बीज-पौधे-पांच-साल-में-पेड़ पर, और मैं पेड़ की डाली पर।

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झोंपड़ी सी है मेरी, छत डालियों की बुन्नी थी कभी, अब छेद वाली है… फिर…

फिर इस बार अम्बर का पानी मेरी झोंपड़ी में और मैं मुईं झोंपड़ी की छत्त पर,

मुंगी भौंक उठी उस दिन मुझ पर, या मुईं छत्त पर… बिजली चमकी अचानक

और मैं गई कूद, गिरी सीधे चार-पाई पे, अब लगे मेरा बिस्तर फर्श पर।

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बड़े मटके में बड़ा, छोटे में छोटा बन जाये ये जल

और जब जाए मेरे भीतर तो बन जाए मुझ बुढ़िया सा कुबड़ा।

मूयें कुबड़े होंगे तुम सब, मैं कोई न होनी…

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फिर जल कभी मेरा खाना, कभी मुंगी का, जो वो न खाए तो चिड़िया का।

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जल आकाश, जल समंदर, और ये माटी के पहाड़ जैसे मेरी मटकी,

रिस-रिस के पानी, अंदर इस भू को जल दे जाए प्राण और ठंडक…

क्यों? पृथ्वी घूमे है तो थके न क्या? जल तो मांगे है…

फिर जल से कौन बचा, जो डूब गई वो भी किश्ती थी, जो तैरती रही वो एक किस्सा,

तुमने सुनाऔर मुझ बुढ़िया ने भी जाना, माना  माना, नहीं माना नहीं माना।

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बचपन में आई एक बार बाढ़, सब जगह जल ही जल और सत्यानाश,

मैं बच गई… काहे चौंके?

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देर हो गई, देर हो गई इतनी, मैं सोचूँ, तो बोलू इतनी कितनी?

देर नहीं होनी कोई, तुम्हारी घडी भागे दिमाग से तीन कदम पीछे।

सुनलो, जल पीना चौकड़ी मार के जैसे है कोई अमृत ये, तब ऊपर के निचे के

दांत झड़ेंगे पहले और तुम मरोगे बाद में, बिन बतीसी के

बुड्ढे खुसठ 100 पार छलांग लगा कर।

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हाँ, याद रखना, मुझ बुढ़िया की बात, मैं जल देवी कहलाउंगी इसके बाद।

हं… हं… हाँ तो…

कई मंत्र जप्पे थे, कई जाने थे, अब आई बात समझ जाकर नंबर 205 पर। 


मटकी जाने है एक राज़, हम न जाने क्या/ Clay pot knows a secret that we know not.
[Source – Pixabay]

English Translation –

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I understood quite late, but then I wondered how late is quite late?

I chanted many mantras, knew many more, but mantra number 205 enlightened me.

Am around 88-90, so will you say I have gone overboard with chanting mantras?

Hmm, so as I was saying I know we were taught in school that water is life,

But I simply forgot about it, but now mantra number 205 enlightened me.

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These days I eat water, I drink water, and I say keep it all spick and span forever,

Water is medicine, water is life-force and I am dust,

Water in the stream-river-cascade-ocean, water in my earthen jar and the earthen jar on my head,

The earthen jar broke, water seeped in the earth-seed-plant-and-in-five-years-the-tree and am now sitting on the tree’s branch.

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I live in a small shack, with an old thatched roof that now has a hole in it… then…

Then, recently, it rained heavily, water entered my bloody shack, I climbed the thatched roof then

Mungi barked at me or was she barking at the bloody roof… Lightning struck suddenly,

I jumped and landed on my cot, as a consequence of which now I sleep on the floor.

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Big in a big jar, small in a small one, water takes any shape

And when I drink water, it takes the shape of a hunchbacked oldie…

Oh, you all must be hunchbacked, because I surely am not.

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Hmm… I often have water for lunch, sometimes I share it with Mungi and if she rejects it, the birds feast on it.

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Water is sky, water is ocean and these mountains made of earth are like my earthen jar,

Slowly seeping inside, water gives life-force and coolness to the earth…

Why not? The earth rotates so don’t you think it gets tired? It too asks for water…

Water is very powerful… the one that sinks is a ship and the one that doesn’t is a legend,

You have heard such tales, this oldie has also known some, if you believe in it, you do and if you don’t, you don’t.

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Once, in my childhood, a great flood caused catastrophic destruction,

I survived… you look surprised, why so?

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Quite late, quite late, but then I wondered how late is quite late?

You’re not quite late, your watch runs three times slower than your brain.

Listen, sit down cross-legged whenever you drink water as if it is an elixir, then your lower and upper

Teeth will fall before you die and you will die toothless

Grumpy and senile, only after crossing 100.

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Okay! Remember what this oldie has shared, maybe from now onwards I’ll be known as the ‘Water Goddess’.

Hmm… hmm… like I said…

I chanted many mantras, knew many more, but mantra number 205 enlightened me.


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Recent Posts


Dust

Living in a quiet and slow dust storm, I wonder if I am moving at all. Just as I approach the wall, it becomes dust and so does everything else.

What makes me thirsty? Is it the sound of future, my desire to see it or the knowledge of nothing? Sliding, swaying, fumbling I reach a well and quench my thirst happily.

Often a friend guides me, though, who borrows memories from whom isn’t clear to me as of now. But I am sure of my useless attempts to gather the dust after it is all gone.

Standing still I come across a sea of mirrors, I choose one and take the place in front of it. I tell myself I am ready to take the dive, the mirror repeats my words and then without a sound or any movement, I turn into dust.

You think the King Remembered What He Was Supposed to Remember?


I am the greatest of all great kings. I rule the land and the sea. Bow to me!

You’ll be dust one day, and completely forgotten.

My sons will carry my family name. We are the royals. Cheers to me!

Your sons will be dust too, and never talked about, ever.

My public worships me. I shine in gold and silver, I am the one they write about. Sing to me!

Once dust, you’ll become a name in a chronological list of the dead kings.

I am a just king, blessed by the almighty.

You think you’re immortal?

No. I know I’ll die one day.

Like all the others.

Like all the others…

Just remember this.


(In reference to no particular king and each and every king.)


Roger II of Sicily receiving the crown
from Christ, Martorana, Palermo.

HIS PATH

The sun was fiery, it was a blazing fire. And the path was fiery. The moon was serene, it was peaceful. And the path was peaceful. The trees canopied the earth, it knew all the secrets. And the path knew the secrets. The rivulet played music, it amplified the magic. And the path was magical. The soil was alive, it was the love of the plants. And the path felt the love too.

The traveller was walking on this path, barefooted. His feet could feel the path. The wind was also telling him something. The music he heard was intoxicating. Trees above him silently told him to stay, relish the hidden secret, because what is hidden could be found. He agreed and changed his path. A rough fresh path took him deep in the forest. He settled in the lap of a gigantic tree.

Lush greenery tickled him, relaxed him, and made him quiet. Time was moving but he had no knowledge of it. With eyes closed he was slowly seeping into the life around him. He could now feel their pulse. Some creepers were crawling on him. He was ignorant of it and soon was at bliss. The nature took over him. He became one with the nature – green, thriving, beautiful and tranquil.

A day came when he was overwhelmed to such an extent that his third eye opened. It spread a ray that was fiery, serene, quiet, magical, alive and full of love. That day his body became dust and we know nothing else as words, language and intellect falls short when magnificence takes birth.