fAREWELL

A  WORKING WOMAN

-Sunita Rajiv

Pasted smiles, on painted faces

Expressions controlled, without any traces

Of all the tsunamis stored in her heart

 That’s  a working woman, active and smart.

The babies in cradle tucked away with nannies,

The sons in the crèches, daughters with grannies,

Files and folders adorn their brains,

The work clouds and thunders, assignments just rain.

Still with her phone, she holds on to strings

Of lunches and the dinners and missed out springs.

The husbands and bosses have to be kept pleased,

The angst just builds up, not to be released.

The heart is sliced in two, to leave the home behind

The bills and ego Titans, turn her just blind.

The dilemma of being, a woman in this world

Brings her to forked roads, the choices are unfurled.

Because she crossed the threshold, she bears all the pains

The losses can be counted, unlimited are the gains.

So once again she dons, a brave ‘n’shaky smile,

Once again she walks, those tiresome miles.

Endurance and grit are her nourishment

What if llife itself, seems a punishment!

The wrinkles shy away, and the will prevails

The indomitable spirit shines and hails.

Pasted smiles, on those painted faces

Expressions controlled, without any traces

Of all the tsunamis stored in the heart

 that’s  a working woman, active and smart.

मैं क्या पढूं?

आज फिर सर झुक गया शर्म से मेरा --मैं क्या पढूं?

अखबार के काले हर्फों में है खबर वही -- मैं क्या पढूं ?

वैसे तो हम हैं देवी के अनन्य उपासक --प्राण से !

जो पूजते हैं शक्ति को , ऐसे आराधक --मान से !

श्रद्धा और विश्वास का दीपक जला --सम्मान से !

पर देश दुःशासन बना खींचे है चीर -- मैं क्या पढूं ?

आज फिर सर झुक  गया शर्म से मेरा --मैं क्या पढूं?

अखबार के काले हर्फों में है खबर वही -- मैं क्या पढूं ?

कहीं शीलभंग कहीं त्रास है , कहीं है नरक --घर में ही !

अपमान के हैं घूँट भी , कहीं है तड़प --मन में ही !

कभी फांसी दे दो पेड़ों पे , कभी रौंद दो कोई निर्भया,

कभी गाढ़ दो किसी क़ब्र में , कुचल दो कोई -'अरुणा '

कुछ भी करो कुछ भी कहो , शर्मिन्दा देश है -- क्या पढूं ?

हूँ भारतीय नारी मैं ,मैं क्यों सहूँ , चुप क्यों रहूँ ?

आज फिर सर झुक गया शर्म से मेरा --मैं क्या पढूं?

अखबार के काले हर्फों में है खबर वही -- मैं क्या पढूं ?

A TEENAGER’S WOES

A TEENAGER’S WOES

by Sunita Rajiv

Even if I try very hard, to fit into the mould
Even if I strive hard, to get medals of gold
I still face anger and frowns ’n grades that aren't so great,
For once be by my side, let me decide my fate.

Silence of the soul and Chorus of my thoughts,
Never let me rest and weigh heavy on my heart.
I know I can do better, I know I can still shine
But clouds of expectations dampen this spirit of mine.

My father wants my name, among the toppers tall,
My mother won't be pleased to see the grades go small.

They want me to be a hero who can live their dream
My peers look at me ,their eyes fill of gleam.

I hear the success stories, of friends who are so bright,
These stories make me puny and fill my heart with fright.

I love my parents dear,I love my mentors more,
If only love could work and make better my score

 My Facebook friends are many commenting day and night

But when I need help not one is within the sight.

The world of social media, is a magnet quite strong.

I find myself so caught up, though I know it is wrong.

So I just thought and thought, and reached at one conclusion,

Just one person can help me, I AM MY OWN SOLUTION.

The world I cannot change, even though I wish to,

But I can change myself, that’s what I am going to do.

I may not top ‘n’ score high, but I will try for sure.

I‘ll take reins in my hands ‘n give myself a chance more.

For who can bend the will, the WILL of a strong soul!

What I want I will get it, for I am 24 carat gold.

I watch them bullying but I keep quiet,

I don’t know how to stop them, though my heart riots.

They victimize the weak and think they are strong,

No one checks them though they are so wrong.

My school is very busy and teachers teach ‘n go,

That small newcomer can’t say a big NO.

They take away his money and call him names,

Like a bunch of cats they play dirty games.

They push him here ‘n there they don’t let him eat,

They boss around like heroes ‘n think they've done a feat.

The newcomer then cries and swears to himself,

I don’t do anything.... but curse myself !

If only this could stop ,if only this could wane,

We could then breathe easy and feel a little sane.

I wish to tell you friend  you need to brave it all

Come let us raise our voice and let us make a call.

Report to the teachers and join our hands together

This suffering should then end we're birds of same feather.

No longer shall we bear ,no longer shall we cry

Bullying has to be stopped there’s no need to be shy.

If you stand firm and we all support you,

How will they dare and ever bully you, 

what's the use of studying if we can't raise our voice

We can stop it too , we have that choice.

I will not be silent nor will I be meek

I will dare to dare them, my mind I will speak.

My friends wake up now and now take a stand , 

We are quite strong , the power is in our hands.

We can stop bullying if we really want to,

we can raise our voice if we really want to

Silence is for cowards so tolerate no more

Its time to stand together and settle all scores.

Sunita Rajiv 25th Nov 2014

एक प्रश्न 

चेहरे से छीन लिया है नूर 

फिर भी तुम हो बेक़सूर 

जाने चले हैं कैसे दांव ?

कर दिया अपनों से दूर। 

ज़िन्दगी को जीने का 

क्या जोश छीन पाओगे ?

कहो समय ! नीयत  है क्या?

कितने सितम और ढाओगे ?

हुलस ह्रदय में रह गयी  

इक टीस  सुलग के सह गयी ,

बरसों में जो बनायीं थी 

इमारतें वो ढह  गईं। 

इरादे फिर भी आग हैं 

मद्धम  सुरों में राग है 

कहो समय ! नीयत  है क्या?

कितने सितम और ढाओगे ?

आँखों के गिर्द अंधेरों में 

सुनहरे से सवेरे थे 

माथे के उन लकीरों में 

कई अनुभवों के सेहरे थे। 

नज़रें धुन्धलकी  हो चलीं 

क्या दृष्टि छीन पाओगे ?

कहो समय ! नीयत  है क्या?

कितने सितम और ढाओगे ?

चाहे हूँ मैं उतार पर 

मिटने के कगार पर 

नाम मगर लिख दिया है 

हर एक दिल के तार पर। 

कोशिशें असंख्य कर के 

क्या हरा यूँ पाओगे ?

कहो समय ! नीयत  है क्या?

कितने सितम और ढाओगे ?

ENLIGHTENED?

Teacher’s Day brings joy to the hearts of a community whom the entire nation bows down to with reverence, love and devotion and befittingly calls them nation builders. Business houses cash on these sentiments and markets swell with goodies, beautifully crafted gifts, loudly proclaiming colorful cards, holding in their bosom some carefully penned verses, accolading the person called TEACHER. Children try to outshine each other by bringing richly arranged bouquets or roses for their favorite teachers and the receivers are overwhelmed at this touching gesture. The twinkle in the eyes of the students and their genuine emotions for once make you proud of yourself and you walk the dull grey roads feeling no less than an uncrowned monarch.

But…..there is something that bothers this monarch.

 A conscience which is the echo of God’s voice. As the students worship us as the gods of the day, a question gains dimensions,-“Am I a true teacher, a foundation layer ,a nation builder, a candle which burns itself to enlighten the world,?”

The self assessment and self analysis darts more such questions and the honesty this profession engrains in us, does not let us give ourselves a flattering grade.

Some of us, rather many of us are in this profession ,not by choice. Either this profession has been opted by us due to the convenient time frame, as many see this as a non demanding half day job which gives us enough number of hours to devote to our families; or this has been chosen because we were not skilled/ qualified enough to take up other jobs. If a survey is conducted, results will be highly astonishing. Quite a a large number land in  this job  as a way out,

And the irony is, we are the so called `educators’, the ` nation builders’!

This is not the complete picture though. There is a section of teachers who really wanted to be one-who pursued their B.EDs  or NTTs sincerely because they visualized themselves  as  sculptor of characters , facilitators for learners or shapers of the clay, called children. They are a part of the large group but they manage to carve  a niche for themselves in the hearts of their students. To them , teaching is the best experience and the hours spent with their students, the most rewarding ones.

They jubilate when their students bring laurels but their aim lies in bringing the weaker one to the surface. In their hands lies the magic called ` enlightening’ because teaching is their passion. When they break away from the trodden path they are envied and advised- not to try innovations, “ At the end of the day the students will forget you and the salary will remain the same anyway” they are told. It is feared by others that if one does , they might be asked to follow suit, hence the crab mentality. But a  true teacher doesn’t rest and constantly tries to improve and outshine himself, in order to  weave the magic , called`enlghtening’.He dares , cares and shares.

A wise man was asked once, ‘Why don’t students respect their teachers as they did in olden times?’The learned man answered, “They were not mere teachers, they were gurus; who were sincerely engaged in the task of character building. They didn’t have students, they had disciples.”A child becomes a student as he is admitted to school in his tender years and he has to study from whosoever is deputed for the job but a disciple is one who follows his guru willingly after the guru has accepted him as his torch bearer.  Not all could join the gurukul.

Those days are gone and so has that twenty four carat dedication. A teacher teaches because he has to, not always because he wants to. Hence the he gets students and not disciples who would prove worthy of all that he stands for- the values, the principles, the tenets of life that will make him a man.

When Lincoln wrote to his son’s teacher, he requested him to “ teach him it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat.
Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone tells him they are wrong.”

He believed and rightly so, that only a teacher could sculpt out a masterpiece from a formless chaos.

With another TEACHER’S DAY round the corner, it’s time to retrospect, analyze and assess ourselves. The nation has had a new teacher who translated the high ideals of Gandhism into action by being the father of a most unique revolution hitherto unwitnessed by independent India .Vivekananda’s cry” Arise, awake,/sleep no more;/within each of you there is the power to remove all wants and all miseries” was resurrected like phoenix from its ashes and transformed onto a defiant tricolor, so befittingly and unfailingly firm in the hands of the nation’s awakened youth. The non violent war cry resonated in the historical hall of the parliament which had witnessed debates as ‘dreary sand of dead habit’ [ Tagore].The voice of Anna became the roar of youth and the nation learnt a new lesson of peaceful Civil Disobedience and Satyagraha.

May we, the teachers, learn something too? The simple lesson of `rasri aawat jaat te/ sil par parat nisaan’; that miracles are possible and the most headstrong opponents can be won over by consistent and unflinching efforts; that one should remain humble even at the dizzy heights of victory. If thousands listened and obeyed him, it was not due to any strict discipline imposed on them but due to the deep rooted respect they had for the strict self discipline he imposed on himself. He role modeled to the nation, that lessons could be taught with honesty, of honesty, for honesty. Couldn’t we sow the seeds of honesty in the students in their school life itself? If the saplings are well taken care of, won’t they grow into a majestically tall and shady trees, benefitting one and all and strengthening the roots of their nation in future? Because-

`If winter comes, can spring be far behind?’

We live in a country where students respect their teacher and the society holds  the profession in high esteem. Our path is not paved with golden gravel, nor are the benefits so luring but nothing can surpass the joy of a teacher when the students excel in their efforts, when they challenge us to debates and when they pour out their hearts which they haven’t done even before their parents. Children are our perennial source of youth and  teachers never age with this ever flowing fountain of joy and happiness in their lives.

So come another TEACHER’S DAY and remind us of our wows and our pledges.As Frost said-

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

Sunita Rajiv