brieffarmclamcop

[brieffarmclamcop]

61/2018

गुड फूड अॅण्ड गुड मूड......!

बंगळूरात आलो की नवनवीन खाद्य संस्कृती शोधायचा जणू पायंडाच पडलाय असं म्हणायला हरकत नाही. आणि यात धनंजय वाकबगार मग बघायलाच नको. अन्न कुटीरम मध्ये धनंजय नि मी गेलो होतो. हे त्याचंच फाईण्ड. पंजाबी तडका नि साउथचा भडका याचा इतका वीट आलाय की बोलायची सोय नाही. टिव्हीवर असे शो करणारे बरेच आहेत. कंटाळत कसे नाहीत.

" व्वा क्या बात है....अलग स्वाद. ."

असं म्हणायला त्याला नाही पैसे मोजावे लागतात ना ठिकाण शोधावं लागतंय. इथे मामला कुछ अलग है. नाहीतर स्पॉन्सरर है ना कॅमेरा है. पण काही असो या उतारवयात हॉटेलात चढ उतार करायला मनापासून आवडतं. या शहरात इतकी ठिकाणं आहेत की राहिलेली वर्षे कमी पडतील.

बनशंकरीच्या कत्रीगुप्पे भागातील हे खाद्य ठिकाण थोडं हटके होतं. घरातलं नाही पण मठातल्या प्रसादाची चव होती. कुठेही मसाल्यांचा मारा नव्हता. केळीच्या पानावर खाताना चव मात्र होती हे सांगायला नकोच. तिथल्या व्यवस्थापकाला बोलके करायचं तंत्र आता दोघांनाही अवगत झालं होतं. कुर्गातल्या त्या पोराला आम्ही भंडावून सोडलं.

' कारे तुझ्या कुर्गात इडलीचं वावडं आहे का? '

' ऐसा कुछ नही लेकिन वहाँपे नॉनव्हेज जादा चलता है.'

' अलवा, मॉर्निंग विदाउट इडली दोसा. .. ब्रेकफास्ट इज इनकंप्लीट . ऐदु किलोमीटर मेले शिकदा .बट नो इडली. '

' टुडे यू वील गेट हिअर. .'

म्हैसूरी पगडी नि शुभ्र वेशातील वेटरनं केळीचं पान आडवं मांडलं. मठातील टिपिकल मूग डाळ मिश्रित कोशिंबीर पानात वाढताच उत्सुकता वाढली.

मग वाढलेल्या भाजीतली पायनापल रसाळ भाजी भोपळ्याचीच वाटली पण नंतर परत परत मागवली. पुरणपोळ्या दोन प्रकारच्या होत्या पण जोडीला कटाची आमटी किंवा दूध तरी ध्यायचं? पण नाही. कळाभात किंवा मसाले भात आणि गव्हाच्या खिरीनं रंगत आणली. डोसा पण आला. ..खरं सांगायचे तर भाजीवरच आडवा हात मारत होतो. यालाच खरं जेवण म्हणायचं. नाहीतर आपला ढकलतोय भात आणि भात. मसरान्ना म्हणजे दहीभात आला आणि जेवणाच्या शेवटाला आलो..

हात धुवून कोचावर बसून स्ट्रॉबेरी आईसक्रीमनं सांगता झाली. थोड्या वेळात ओला आली आणि परतीच्या मार्गाला लागलो. धनंजय मूड मध्ये होता.

" आ लौटके आजा. . "

एस एन त्रिपाठी चं फेमस गाणं. मायथॅलाॅजीकल सिनेमाचं युग होतं आणि हे नाव मस्ट असायचं. पण का गातोय? शनिपारच्या म्युझिक स्पेशल मध्ये याला ऐकवावं. बघुया.

गाणे म्हणत असताना त्याचं ठिकाण आलं

धनंजयला मध्येच ड्राॅप केलं. आणि त्याची जागा नव्या पोरांनी घेतली फ्रंट सीटच्या मागच्या टॅबनं.

" कूंम फाया कूंम फाया..."

निजामुद्दीनच्या दर्ग्यात गाणारा रणबीर दिसू लागला. माझी बोटे आपोआप ताल धरू लागली.

अशोक हवालदार

[brieffarmclamcop]

60/2018

असणं....!

माझं,

माझं असणं,

हे आपल्या

असण्यानं.

माझं,

वडील असणं,

माझी मुलं,

असण्यानं.

माझं,

नेता असणं,

माझ्या,

कार्यकर्त्यांच्या,

असण्यानं.

माझं,

गुरू असणं,

माझ्या,

शिष्यांच्या,

असण्यानं.

माझा आनंद,

तुम्हाला,

दुखःत ठेऊन,

मला,

कसा मिळेल?

हे असणं,

कुणाच्या तरी,

असण्यानं,

असतं.

उबंटूनं,

हे असणं,

मला,

शिकवलं.

आय एम,

बिकाॅज,

वुई आर.

अशोक हवालदार

आज माझ्या मित्राने ' उबंटू ' ची गोष्ट शेअर केली. मानव वंश शास्त्रज्ञाने मिठाई ची टोपली झाडाखाली ठेवली. आणि

शंभर मीटर वर मुलांना उभे केलं.

' जो कोणी पळत जाऊन आधी पोहचेल त्याला सर्व मिठाई मिळेल.'

पण घडलं वेगळेच. त्या मुलांनी एकमेकांचे हात पकडून पळत गेले. आणि ती मिठाई सारखी वाटून घेतली. सर्वांनी खाल्ली आणि आनंद घेतला.

' असं का केलंत? '

' उबंटू ' सर्वांनीमिळून एक उत्तर दिलं. अर्थ होता...

एकटा सुखी कसा होईल जर इतर दुखःत असतील तर?

उबंटू म्हणजे ...

मी आहे कारण आम्ही आहोत म्हणून.

किती छान संदेश दिलाय या उबंटू ने...! आफ्रिकनं संस्कृती ने. .. !

सलाम.

[brieffarmclamcop]

59/2018

ऐ बारीश.....!

ऐ बारीश,

इतना कयूं,

बरस रहे हो?

धरतीकी,

प्यास जो,

बुझानी है.

लेकिन,

तकलीफ तो,

हमे हो रही है.

इन सिमेंटके,

जंगलोमें,

उसे ढूंढू कैसे?

तूही बता,

हम रहे तो,

कहाँ और कैसे?

पत्थर मिट्टी,

लकडीके,

घरमें रहके तो देखो.

तुम कैसे,

समझ नही रहे हो,

की हम मानव है?

ऐ मानव,

अब तो,

समझ लो.

दिवारे बनाते,

बनाते,

इन्सानियत भूल गये.

ऐ बारीश,

तुम कितना अच्छा,

बोल रहे हो.

दिवारे तो,

हमने,

मनमेंभी बनायी.

दिवारे दिवारे,

और दिवारे बनाते,

हम मानवता जो भूल गए .

ऐ बारीश,

तुम ऐसेही बरसते,

इन दिवारोंको गिरा दो.

भिगने दो उन्हे,

जबतक,

पापमुक्त ना हो.

ऐ बारीश,

ऐसेही जोर शोरसे,

बरसते रहो.

अशोक हवालदार

[brieffarmclamcop]

54/2018

मी तुला परत भेटेन.

मी तुला परत भेटेन.

कुठे? कशी?  माहित नाही.

कदाचित,

तुझ्या कल्पनांची,

प्रेरणा बनून,

तुझ्या कॅनव्हासवर,

एक गूढ रेषा होऊन,

शांतपणे तुला पहात राहिन.

मी तुला परत भेटेन.

कुठे? कशी? माहित नाही.

सूर्याचं तेज बनून,

तुझ्या रंगात मिसळून जाईन.

किंवा रंगांच्या कुशीत जाऊन,

कॅनव्हासवर लोळत पडेन.

माहिती नाही कधी? कशी?

मी तुला नक्की भेटेन.

किंवा एक स्रोत बनून,

जसं निर्झराचं  पाणी उडतं,

मी थेंब बनून तुला भिजवेन.

आणि एक शीतल अनुभूती,

तुला मिठीत देईन.

मी तुला परत भेटेन.

कुठे? कशी? माहित नाही.

मला दुसरं काही माहिती नाही,

पण एवढं माहिती आहे,

काळ माझ्याशी जे करेल,

ते जन्मभर पुरेल.

हे यौवन ओसरेल,

तसं सारंच संपून जाईल.

पण आठवणींचे धागे.

विश्व क्षणासारखे असतात.

त्या क्षणांना वेचेन,

धाग्यात गुरफटून घेईन

मी तुला परत भेटेन.

कुठे? कशी? माहित नाही.

मी तुला परत भेटेन.

अमृता प्रीतम

अशोक  हवालदार ( अनुवाद )

आज शनिपार च्या साप्ताहिक बैठकीत या कवयित्री वर चर्चा  झाली. तिच्या साहित्य प्रवाहात  सर्व न्हाऊन निघाले. हा अनुवाद मी सादर केला. माझा प्रयत्न प्रभावी नसेल पण या कवितेने मोहिनी घातली आणि हा अनुवादाचा पहिलाच अनुभव घेतला.

[brieffarmclamcop]

3/2017

A story of Ashok, a real banker..!

‘In this shining dress you are looking a perfect banker but why auto?’

‘Sir, he is my father.’

You might have seen this ad several times. Suppose there is a twist. The auto driver becomes a senior banker and asks his assistant to visit the auto owner to inspect post advance verification. And here is the story of Ashok, as promised in the last blog of 2016.

It appears to be imaginary but today I am introducing such a person whose journey as an auto driver to a senior banker is equally amazing and inspiring one. Here I am not giving an entire biography but a little cozy part of his struggle.

Recently he retired as a senior bank manager in the month of November after demonetization. Luckily we met and I could peep his past. His elder brother was my colleague. His auto finance was made through our branch. But I was not aware of it. We met and became friend. He started with respect as ‘Sir’.

‘Gentleman I am elder than you. Right.  It doesn't mean to treat a bald like you. You have a banker’s personality. It suits you. Let me protect my hair as young, be friendly with me. Keep aside Sir…Sirjee etc. Don’t you see the waving hair on my head?’

And we both burst in to laughter looking at each other.  Being a washer man his father was running small shop and the family members were assisting him. That was the sole source of income to run a big family. He failed in the SSC examination in his disliking subjects English and mathematics. The father and mother asked him to work or support the family business. They were very reluctant to educate him. In the seventies it was very difficult to get a job due to in-completion of school education. He was to do some petty jobs in private concerns. He wanted to complete SSC but due to opposition in the family he finally joined as temporary peon in a bank. But his thirst of appearing the examination then was a remote thing.

A gentleman knowing the family asked them to support his education. Finally he decided to appear the examination.  While doing job he concentrated on study. After a gap of three years he got through the SSC hurdle. In this period he used to read books.

He joined to a shopkeeper to attend his books of accounts. He started to ply the auto. He got the license and got the brass batch to wear while driving the auto. After few days he took admission in the night college of commerce. The college and auto driving was going on to achieve something. He was in the D class of Marathi medium. The D class was almost of not clever or scholar students. Almost they were the most irregular to class or part time workers.  He passed the first year with good marks and approached the authority to give the Webster English dictionary and to switch over to English medium. His request was also genuine because there was a little margin between him and the ranked student. He succeeded in getting the dictionary. It helped him in next classes. Is it not wonderful to master on the disliked subjects like English and mathematics?  A dictionary changed him totally. He became studious in the subjects like accountancy and statistics.

‘To improve English you must read the books and English magazines or newspapers. How are you going to improve it by this dictionary?’  His Sir advised  him.

‘I can…! I will improve my vocabulary to understand the book.’

He got the dictionary and an access to the library of the college. This was the real turning point. Once he met his school teacher. He took him to a function where he  was to give a lecture. The subject was of the eight successful people who were failed in the school or school drop-outs.  After the lecture this guy stood and asked in the audience.

‘Sir, you have forgotten the ninth boy.’

He recalled his school days. How he was a difficult student.  A headache  to the school. He briefed this journey to a successful banker. The teacher and audience could not control the tears.

During his auto days he had to work hard. He had to interact with the passengers from all walks of life. But this interaction was the foundation of a successful banker. He had an opportunity to learn the economics in a practical way. He used to take the lunch at 90 paisa in day time. The hotel is still there.

After completing his commerce he attempted the MPSC examination also. Later he got through the banking recruitment examination. The owner of a coconut and grocery shop gave a recommendation letter. He still remembers those days in Bhau’s shop. Bhau used to write the poems and the listener was this angel boy. Coincidently Bhau is too my good friend. He got his appointment in small village In Konkan. He immediately enrolled in the local library.  In three years of time he did not spare a single book. The librarian was also enthusiast to fulfil his thirst of knowledge.

He got the promotion as an officer. He passed the entire banking certificate exam. and the master’s degree in commerce. I asked him how he felt in sanctioning a loan to an auto driver to purchase new rickshaw.

‘It was a great memory of my career. I knew all the hurdles in plying an auto. The income and expenditure chart and repaying the loan instalments was very important. I could see the lower, middle and upper class people as an auto driver. And more correctly I had seen an auto driver’s life within me. ’ He wiped the wetness below the specks.

‘I think am not wrong in assessing you as a successful banker or financier. You enjoyed all the ups and downs and to become hero from a zero. How do you feel now after retirement?’

‘As you correctly said my book reading, grabbing new avenues of knowledge and the life at ground level always guided in my banking career. As an active member of employees association I tried to read them closely. I used to conduct the classes for the aspirant officers.  The teacher and leader’s role taught me to remain grateful with the institution who feeds us  under its wings.’

He is successful husband, father, brother and friend to help in need. The parked car at the porch and the cool shade of ceiling and the combined lunch with the family members recall the past. The wheel of success and the shade of satisfaction give him the secrets of life.

Even after retirement he is still in active in helping others and to make them successful is his aim. This is a short story of my friend. After reading the last blog 2016 he asked me a question. Why I did not review the article on my wife who retired from the same bank. I tried to convince him but he was not satisfied by my answer. I assured him to mention it the blog related to him. His journey is important as an inspiration.

So far I have not mentioned his name but many of you guess him correctly Ashok… Yes, Ashok Chougule.

ASHOK HAVALDAR

[brieffarmclamcop]

Today I recalled my blog.

A tribute to the legend star ruling on the hearts of her fans. I had seen very few films but remember this lullaby from the film Sadama. An innocent child hidden in her appealed me and others too.

' Suramayee Akhiyon me........! '

An emotional heart touching song in soft music. OH GOd....! Her exit is Sadama....shock to every one.

39/2016

English Vinglish...Kannada Binnada...!

Yesterday I was watching the climax scene of the movie. Shashi was giving an inspiring 5 minutes speech in English, at her niece's wedding. What ever she was speaking was creating an impact on the guests and classmates audience. Her husband was not confident of her speech. The class teacher handed over her the certificate in applause, after her speech. Her classmates were from different countries. Their ways of understanding English and reproducing it through their styles were amazing one. The entire episode was an emotional to make viewers involved and unable to stop the tears in their eyes. Forget the actors on the screen but the viewers too. Don't you make to cry the emotional, heart touching scenes of drama, cinema or the incidences happening surrounding you. Usually the lady viewers can't control it.

One thing always comes in my mind, how the music composers direct the singers from different language ? Here the singer has to sing the words with the emotions attached to them. And the song becomes hit. When a Marathi singer attempts a south Indian song or vice e versa. It is not limited to ours only but in foreign languages too. The Russians fall in love and sing the Raj Kapoor creation ' Awara hun...' If I say the music directors or the singers are the true National Integrators, nothing wrong in it.

I started thinking about the languages I speak. This scene inspired me to learn one more language and to enjoy the emotional aspect. Luckily we have so many languages being spoken in our country. Still our heart language is one. We must be proud of it. The famous ' Mile sur mera tumhara ...' Sung by various artists of different languages. Or the melodious songs from the film ' Sound Of Music '. The notes Do Re Mi....and Sa Re Ga..Ma..create oneness. It is very easy to access these languages. How ? I tell you a story.

Last week I had an opportunity to attend a farewell party to a retiring officer. After the speeches, bouquet , gift presentations and photo session during the dinner I met his wife who knows number of languages. English, Hindi,Kannada, Marathi, Gujarati,Telugu, Tamil....Oh God ! the list was unending.

' Madam, it's wonderful. Tell me the magic behind this multi linguistic art.?'

' Sir, I am a Mumbaikar....and the society where we used stay was a mini India, We had a nice rapport with each other. We had a gathering on number of occasions and events. '

' Fantastic, so it was an exchange of culture and language.'

' Definitely, not only this but we learn so many cousins, the fashions and music and dance... Ugadi, Navaratri, Nadhubba,Durga puja, Onam..... celebrations...OH..! It was a wonderful experience of the colours of happiness.'

' Can you speak Bengali..?' My curiosity did not keep me mum.

' No..but I can sing the songs like ...'

And she immediately switch on her hidden juke box....She started singing the famous

' Ekla chalo..Ekla chalo... Ekla chalo re...' by Gurudev Rabindranath Tagor.

I learned ' Bhalo Asin...' and ' Kem Chho..'...' Vannakam ' from the morning walkers. I try to speak broken Gujarathi...mixed with Hindi. My Marathi is very bad....the typical Belgaum tone...the mixing of genders is a subject matter of joke. The grammar never troubles me while connecting them. There after I started writing poems and blogs in Marathi. And the love about my mother tongue Marathi enhanced. I do like to write comments on various posts which was a great help. So let's switch over to Madam's story.

After marriage she left the job in bank and started her classes. Being a teacher , she was connected to all the families and the parents in the society. Here she acquired the the source of languages. She grabbed it as if a student with full devotion. Her fluency in language helped her to become a popular teacher.

I speak four languages almost daily. My friend circle, the morning swimmers group and the salesman on the door from different parts of the country. I enjoy these languages. My friends always confuse when I shift from one to other.

' You start in Marathi, your game starts...Kannada...Hindi..English ....and the mixing. How do you manage it ? '.

' Koshish karo aur maja lo...not so difficult...Bolun tar bagh...Baratade...swalp try mad beka...'

Madam inspired me to learn more and more.

Just imagine you are learning the language and at the end of class you are delivering a small speech like Shashi Godbole.....How would you feel....? Let's all experience the thrill in these languages.

ASHOK HAVALDAR

[brieffarmclamcop]

41/2017

Chapter 8

A Hidden Amitabh

To conclude this book my mind is not ready to detach from this glamour world, especially the Big B’s World. There is an Amitabh hidden in everyone’s mind. Almost 90 percent of the people are having the impact of cinema right from their childhood. Just take a glance on your school days, high school days and more romantic college days and in our daily life routine we see the replica of cinema every now and then. When you are in front of a mirror your own image takes you in this dream world. It’s very difficult to differentiate life and cinema. The craze is as it is since years together. Is it not true that the life is becoming a cinema? Every generation, the role models or the heroes and heroines are changing.

1950,60,70,80…and so on the every decade witnessed new star but the magic of Amitabh since 1970 till today remained the same. From an angry young man to a respected matured and impressive icon is his image of the celluloid world. Well dressed and the typical voice, the baritone and the sweet Hindi ‘aadab’. These are the strong points of the super star. The audience, the contestants and the viewers of all over the world are excited to watch and hear him with high regards. This clean image is engraved on their hearts forever.

Every one dreams to be Amitabh but to realize it is a remote possibility. The result is equal to zero. To struggle and to achieve something is like the super star is a common dream of everyone. You can be a superstar in your field. I am not joking, but that’s true. We hardly notice them. But ‘N’ number of Amitabhs in real world but not in the focus of high voltage bright lights.

I take you to my cinema world. In school days I always used to open the last page of a news paper, which contained the cinema advertisements. Apart from the regular matinee or morning shows other related information was incorporated in them. But in the villages or small towns one or two theatres were there. The fad of touring talkies was in the mela or jatra (annual fare of that village of God or Goddess). Where in sometimes new released pictures were being shown. One or two big posters were displayed. Mostly at the evening time the triangular wheel cart along with band was the way of advertisement. The handbills were aired on the road and to collect them was a great hobby.

Those days the family pictures from south were more popular and they make the female audience to cry. Gemini and AVM cinema studios produced these social and family dramas. I used to write my initials in AVM form. Every year after completing the final examination paper, we had to request our parents a favour of watching the picture that night. The party system in the hotels or the ice cream parlor was not yet familiarized. At the most a spaghetti dish was in the dinner.

We used to listen the radio Ceylon and Vividh Bharati. The melodious songs increased the attraction of cinema. Our general knowledge of cinema was more than school study. When the school teachers were tired of chalk and black board, they used to tell us the cinema story with some extra spices and own creations. We used to sing the poems from our text book in cinema style.

Binaka Geetmala, every Wednesday at 8pm to 9pm, it was a great feast of new songs and sweet announcer Amin Sayani to all of us. It was based on the sale of gramophone records.

“Bhaio aur Bahano ab suniye Sartaz Geet “

And the bugle sound used to create a curiosity about the song number.

‘purane filmonse, ek hi filmse, humesha jawan geet, do pahilo do rang do geet…number of programs and this craze remain till my college days. Wednesday was a change day, in dinner the menu was almost fixed that of khichadi and kadhi along with some chatpata like batata wada and at the background of Binaka Geetmala. The style of Vividh Bharati was different. The most popular afternoon program was Aapake Anurodpar. But this program was special where in, we had to listen ‘Zoomeritalliyanse, Rajanandgaonse, Manchariyalse …’ I might have been forgotten other cities but to forget these names is 100% impossible.

Every song was related to some memories. ‘Sari sari rat teri…’ always reminds me the rainy days or the marriage functions. ‘Rang dilki dhadakan…’ or the song ‘Tum to pyar hain’ bring romanticism.

These were some of the reasons to attract the cinema. Whenever the friend circle meets the most of the portion of their talk was on films and films only.

Naturally, our study gets affected. The elders always used to warn us

“Don’t be in love with films and songs. They will not feed you, be serious.”

One day an idea clicked to my mind to be a part of this industry. Every day my elder brother used to either preach or tease me on my maintenance. My study was almost on the collapse. Anger takes you on good way or false decision. I was fed up of the frequent exchange of hot words and abuses. One brother wanted to help the other one was greedy to grab it. I could not get the hostel accommodation due to late admission. I had to shelter his place of anger. But it was a great mistake on my part.

It was rainy afternoon of September, I prepared myself to renounce everything and do a job. I packed my small tourist bag and went to the railway station. I booked a ticket for Nagpur. Nagpur? God knows, why I had selected this destination? As I entered the compartment I smelled something fishy. For a moment I was confused by watching the co passengers. The picture of poverty and backwardness of the few passengers frightened me to get out of the compartment. I rushed to the booking window to cancel my ticket. Collecting the refund amount I could not understand what to do. When a heaven of job is near to me why should I go far away? All the dream lovers prefer this city and they struggle to become something. Some of them become successful but remaining also get something to survive.

The Cinema? That was not my cup of tea and so also the Journalism field? I knew very little about art and caricature. I used to draw some faces in my own way. Immediately the road artist with his huge picture and coins allover God picture flashed and I was about to cry. One mind was asking me to go back and adjust the situation. But the rebel one was opposing it. I was caught between the scissors. Since 12 noon I was doing nothing. Finally I made up my mind to go to the dream city. I booked the ticket for Mumbai, an evening train. It was full raining and I was showered with confusions and frustration. At 5 o’ clock and the train arrived on first platform. Before this I hadn’t gone this city. Still I prepared myself to try my luck. In full rainy shower the train left the platform and my scattered thoughts started making me nervous. Co passengers were asking about my purpose to go and other things like which area I was going? Whether I could manage it due to heavy raining?

It was night and train reached Karjat station. One of the passengers asked to dine here only. There were no lights due to power failure. I ordered the food. But my mind was recalling the home food. I did not eat much and returned back to my seat. Amidst the heavy rain I reached the VT station at 11 o’ clock in the showering night. My passenger friend advised me to stay on the station till morning. It was terrifying experience and accepted the proposal.

We often read about the people who slept on the platform on their first arrival in this city. I was experiencing it myself. I spread the thin bed sheet on the cold wetly floor in front of big staircase leading to VIP passengers’ waiting room. When I touched the back to the floor within seconds I immersed in a deep sleep.

I wondered in the morning at new unknown place on a bed sheet. The other passengers already left the place. OH God! No dreams, no frequent disturbance but a totally sound sleep I had on the historical railway station.

I brushed teeth and had a steamy tea. I took a wash and prepared to reach my destiny.

It was 8.30 morning on the streets of Fort area. The huge building structure attracted my attention. It was the famous Time of India building. The first name came to my mind was none other than Laxman Sir. Those days I could draw some cartoons in my own style but following these legendary artists. But the watchman told me to come at 11 o’ clock.

“Till then what to do?”

I read the Name Chembur on the bus and I got the answer. I caught the bus and reached the famous RK Studio. But to meet someone was not so easy job. A person came out from the gate and I asked him whether I could see the shooting? He asked me to wait and later he took me inside and asked me to wait in the small cycle stand near to a canteen. Few other people were waiting for their work of that day. I was hungry and tired. I went to the RK Canteen. I took the bhaji and pav and a cup of tea. It was not that famous pav bhajee but the vegetable was in the liquid form made up of potato and onion and garam masala.

But spending 2-3 hours I was little nervous. That the shooting was cancelled and I had no option than to return back on the streets of Mumbai. Once again I reached the Times building but I was negated by the watchman. And I returned back to the VT station. The crowd and running of commuters from train to train disturbed me. I was about to cry. But one gentleman from Calcutta came to help me. He offered me a cup of tea. I told my story or foolish attempt to leave the house.

“To get a job you should have a basic qualification or extra ordinary talent or skill. I advise you to go back to your home.”

“What should I tell them?”

“They are also worried about your sudden disappearance. Nothing will happen to you. Complete your education. Have a nice degree and the world is yours.”

We were talking nearly two hours. Then I left the waiting hall and went to book my ticket to Poona. It was different evening full of fear and confusions.

As the train took speed my thoughts were also took a speed and I did not know the Tirupati statute was flashing before my eyes. I realized my mistake and repaint for it. The force of love of my people pushed me back to home. My brother and sister in law could not stop the tears and none of them asked me anything. My returning to home was everything for them.

My dream of becoming someone was ended. The hidden RK Laxman or Amitabh Bachchan in me encouraged me in my normal life. Three hours move or watching the small cartoon and our life is different. No doubt they are the icons of INSPIRATION.

ASHOK HAVALDAR.

( From my book ‘Amitabh Me And 30 Seconds )

[brieffarmclamcop]

12/2017

Rabne Banadi Jodi…..!

It’s a very melodious song from the same titled film. Yesterday we completed the 37th year of togetherness. The same confusion, 'When a boy meets a girl,' was in my mind when I met her for the first time through my sister in law. The question and answer session was totally rubbish and disturbing one. Before meeting her I cleared to my relative ‘She would be the first and final ’. My revolutionary idea was not digested by her.

‘Meet her personally and take a decision and that would be proper.’

‘Let her decide whether I am a suitable boy or not. Perhaps my idea of selecting a life partner may not appeal to her. But I am still firm and final on my say. I must clarify my protest to this system of marketing. I treat it as an injustice to them when we beat the drums of equality. I did not like the show off in my brothers’ marriages. I want to stop it. If she had any doubt let her satisfy.’

‘If she would have said no then?’

‘I have to fall in love or vice versa.’

We met in our relative’s house. She was swinging looking at the poor chap in the chair. It was just casual meeting without any seriousness.

After two weeks my sister in law informed about her nod. I was against of going through horoscope and other details. I must respect her decision though she was highly educated than me. She was a master in science where as mine was just bachelors degree in science. We both were working in different banks. After marriage she dragged me to join morning Law College. After three years I got the degree. She was the first to greet me to diminish the mismatching qualifications of both. And the Rabne Banadi Jodi was finalized.

My mother being little orthodox took the horoscope to an expert. He commented on the existence of Mr Mars in her Kundali.

'Your son would be taken care of by an intelligent daughter in law.'

Finally the 22nd January the double ducks landed in the pond. Thank God both are streaming in the same direction. But the artistic picture of two opposite ducks or swans is more attractive. Is it not? But in my case on and often this beauty of life was enjoyed 37 long years. The very next year one more Mars was born. She too was too super intelligent Mars. I am talking about my elder daughter. And later one more Mars in my second daughter’s horoscope. Just imagine the condition of poor Guru, my Rashi swami against three red Marses. ‘ Vahi hota hai jo rab ko manjur hota hai. ’

Once I happened to meet on stage an expert astrologer. Who used to perform one act show to present the lighter and brighter side of these planets in our life? It was his first day first show of new version. He invited few lucky spectators to react over or ask any question. I was one of them.

‘Yes, Mr. Smart, please proceed.’

‘What is the effect of Mars?’

‘Before going to answer let me say something else. If I would have been a girl I would have proposed you without any hesitation. The girl no doubt is an intelligent bride to select you, a Mars less. Coming back to your question, tell me. How are you now?’

‘Sir, I am not talking about one Mars bur a series of Mars in my life. I am a Pisces and a poor Guru is my guide. I am not getting a suitable boy to my doctor daughter. Her sun sign is Scorpio. Whether the Mars female are merciless?’

‘No No Gentleman, it’s a wrong myth. Why are you worried? She will get a suitable boy. A late marriage is always good in these cases of Mars.By the way I am interested in your horoscope a non Mangalik married to a Manglik girl.’

‘Sir, my problem….?’

‘Support her.’

‘Yes Sir.’

I was shocked by his attack. He called me a smart guy and but did not say anything about my problem. Still he was curious to know about mismatch or fish match. I returned back to my seat.

‘Smart boy and intelligent girl, story finished? You should have told him about the arguing wife and daughters. It was a totally free advice chance to you. You poor chap missed it.’

‘Thank you. Otherwise he will call me again.’

‘How nice are you! Why don’t you marry him?’

The next spectator lady listening her remark covered her face by both the palms.

She told this episode to both my daughter during the holiday mood. They burst in to laughter.

We reached the 37th year, looking back was so much thrilling experience. I must salute her brain. She worked hard and achieved the best. But she always appreciates my support. We remember the first day of her promotion in a village. It was a rainy season. A day before her joining, we all went to the place. A big problem of accommodation frightened to us. At the last moment before going to bus stand I recalled my Reiki friend. He gave me a reference of a professor of that village. And our luck smiled with a sound big shower on the roof top of the big house. We relaxed and I found a spark of hope in her eyes.

It was a very crucial period for us, but we never grudged but enjoyed the new role of House Husband. Younger daughter also contributed a lot . We both used to keep the house as she was there. The conditions makes you hard and sensible to overcome all the obstacles. It learnt a lesson of a house wife to face all the fronts. I never felt it an insult to manhood. To look after her homework. to prepare her school bag the lunch-box. To updates the empty jars with fresh grocery. To keep the table and kitchen platform clean. The woman has to work number of things. I always thank her for giving this opportunity.

On the other side she being at responsible post has to vigil all the official duties. Every day is a new challenge to her. To create a work culture is a skill which requires a devotion and determination. This is a big family work. This is the result of Mars person. I salute the intelligence and alertness.

Ye to Rab ki kamal hai. Jodi nahi banata balki pyari jodi banata hai. Here your personality plays a very important role. The movie I liked very much. The silent,shy wife with workaholic,soft spoken husband feels free with sportive personality. The husband plays this role. Two different persona creates a dilemma before the wife. And they realise it. The background score and the melodious 'Rabane Banadi Jodi....haye...' was a favourite of mine.

There after she never looked back. The elder daughter was in her final quarter of medical and the younger was to appear the 10th exam. Once in a week she used to join our self made dinner. Last year when she retired in the same month of marriage anniversary and my birth day she flashed back in the past 36 years of togetherness. She uttered with tears looking at me.

‘Thank you my smart boy.’

Ashok Havaldar

[brieffarmclamcop]

56/2018

पावसा.....!

पावसा,

असा का रे,

कोसळतोस सतत?

तहानलेल्या,

जमिनीला,

आनंदी करायचंय.

पण,

किती नुकसान,

होतंय आमचं.

सिमेंटच्या,

जंगलात,

तिला शोधू कसं?

मग,

आम्ही रहायचं,

कुठे आणि कसं?

दगड माती नि,

लाकडाच्या घरात,

राहून तर बघ!

कळत कसं नाही,

आम्ही,

माणसं आहोत?

माणसा,

आता तरी,

शहाणा होशील?

भिंती,

बांधता बांधता,

माणूसपण विसरलास.

पावसा,

किती रे छान,

बोलतोस!

मनाच्याही,

भिंतीत,

राहिलो अडकून.

भिंती भिंती,

आणि भिंती बांधताना,

माणुसकी बसलो हरवून.

पावसा,

असाच कोसळत,

या भिंती पाडून टाक.

भिजू दे,

सगळ्यांना,

पापक्षालन होईपर्यंत.

पावसा,

धो धो कोसळतच,

रहा असाच.

अशोक हवालदार

[brieffarmclamcop]

68/2017

तिनंअसं का केलं?

हळव्या मनाच्या,

वर्दीतल्या कवीला,

दोन ओळीने,

रडवलं त्याच्यातल्या,

अधिकाऱ्याला.

असा कसा दुष्काळ?

तहानलेल्या,

काळानं लिहितं केलं,

तिला.

का नाही सरस्वतीनं,

तिला वाचवलं?

तिनंअसं का केलं?

भाकरी करपली तर,

भूक भागेल.

रानंच करपलं तर,

उपाशीच ठेवेल.

बळीराजाला पार,

कंगाल केलं.

कर्जबाजारी केलं.

सारं घरंच,

रस्त्यावर आलं.

परिस्थितीनं का नाही,

शहाणं केलं,

तिला,

असं करण्या आधी?

तिनंअसं का केलं?

हुशार पोरीला,

अस्वस्थ केलं,

परिस्थितीनं.

दुर्दैवी बापानं,

गाव सोडलं.

भावालाही,

देशोधडी लावलं.

एका जमीनदाराला,

काळानं मजूर केलं,

बांधकामावर.

छोटीचा चेहरा पार,

काळवंडला.

घराबाहेर न गेलेल्या,

माऊलीचे दशावतार,

पहावे लागले,

तिला.

ते कोवळं पोरवय,

का कोमेजून गेलं?

तिनंअसं का केलं?

.......

आणि एक दिवस....!

.........

सकाळ अंधारली,

अचानक.

दवबिंदूनी रडून,

प्राजक्ताला,

हैराण केलं.

शाळेवर कसलं तरी,

सावट पसरलं.

काहीतरी विपरीत,

घडणार होतं.

पोरीला मोठ्या शाळेत,

जायचं होतं,

कायमचंच.

सारा गाव,

झाकोळलं.

आक्रंदत होतं.

हे का नाही कळलं,

तिला?

तिनंअसं का केलं?

झालं...!

आता सारंच संपलं.

या लढाईनं,

तिला हरवलं.

गाव शोकसागरात,

बुडाला.

हळहळला.

अश्रूनी डबडबला.

पाण्यानं भाजलेला गाव,

हा महपूर कसा,

थांबवेल?

त्यानं कागद उघडला,

भीत भीत.

' बाबा, माझ्यासाठी नको,

पिंकीच्या लग्ना करीता,

हे पैसे ठेवा.'

तो पार कोसळला.

दगडी काळजाला,

पाझर फुटला.

रडतच राहिला.

अशोक हवालदार