Tu kisi rail si gujrati hai, mein kisi pool sa thartharata hoon


Above lines are by celebrated Indian poet Javed Akhtar who also is a part time intellectual with an opinion on everything. The image is taken from ScoopWhoop.com which has a title “These Poignant Shayaris By Javed Akhtar Are An Absolute Treat For Your Heart And Soul”

What I see in those lines is Dil, Badaal, Dard, Tanha, Duniya, Ghabraya and a shitload of words that have been used for last couple of centuries by a boatload of poets of colors a hues. These words are so overused that the term “cliche” was invented to describe them. They are as much of a treat to soul as a Parle-G biscuits dipped in shezwan sauce.

But this is the poetry that gets passed off as “great poetry for soul”. Damned be those souls. People who pen these downs will be called to give off awards and will comment on how younger generation does not appreciate poetry.

Kabir 

Kabir was an ordinary man. Man with probably no education nor reputation or money. He wrote simple words. Probably considered a mad man by his neighbours but immortalised by his poetry.

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Rough translation: Everything happens at its own pace. Does not matter how much you water plan, it will bear fruits only when the right season arrives.

Now that is something my grandmother would say when I failed for the n-th time. That is simple, completely relatable and yet contains a wisdom that has accumulated over time. That is why Kabir the destitute will probably be immortal while no one would remember Javed Akhtar.

Love of an ordinary person 

When I was in teens I  have done things I am not very proud of but as a consequences I got much deeper look into  minds of ordinary folks and teenage romances. The engineering college hostel romance might be fueled by the songs penned down by Javed Akhtar but no Romeo thinks on the romanticized lines like “aasoo palko pe aya…” and all that. They often drink beer and find solace in the curse words.

The real world romances do not run on the fuel of dreams about moons and palaces, analogies about flowers and birds. They are about aspirations of meeting that person after school. They are about finding private time in the middle of city or a corner of a park.

People on street do not have vocabulary of JNU grads. They have simple terms but they are capable of love in all the forms that it comes.

Tu kisi rail si guzarti hai
Tu kisi rail si guzarti hai
Main kisi pull sa.. thartharata hoon
Tu bhale ratti bhar na sunti hai
Main tera naam budbudata hoon
Kisi lambe safar ki raaton mein
Tujhe alaav sa jalaata hoon
Tu kisi rail si guzarti hai
Main kisi pull sa.. thartharata hoon

This is a lyrics by Swanand Kirkire that immediately struck a chord. It is about a guy in polytechnic trying his luck with a girl. They do not meet in Kashmir’s orchids but at durgapuja. The guy has a face that is as forgettable as the last taxi driver you had seen.  The girl is as ordinary as the one you have ignored in a crowd.

Yet the universal feeling of missing a heartbeat when she passes by you is expressed in the words ordinary people would understand. After all Javed Akhtar might not have travelled by trains and might not have felt how the bridge vibrates as the train passes on it.

In last decade the elites of the entertainment industry have gone farther and farther from reality. That is why newcomers strike a chord.

While many struggle to understand why Sairat becomes a runway hit, I find it very easy to understand. The ordinary man on street does not aspire to have Deepika or Katrina as their girlfriends. The one they like is like Archie and they themselves are as crude as Parshya.

For many sensibilities Sairat might strike as far to crude, not a polished romance of Rahul and Simran not as gracefully tragic as that of Vasu and Sapana ( Ek Duje Ke Liye).

Note: I am not a literary critic. My beef with main stream entertainment is that how detached it is getting from real Indian people on streets!

 

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One thought on “Tu kisi rail si gujrati hai, mein kisi pool sa thartharata hoon

  1. All Brahmins always love depictions of stand-stilled scenes in which the context of the culture in which the 96 Kuli Maratha girls have been raised, are lost. … Happened for at least a few generations before mine… How possibly could you (a well learned, more importantly, a well-earning (compared to my life)) man do otherwise?

    In this respect, they all—Brahmin-borns—are *exactly* equivalent to the Marxists and “Buddhists.” Also every hater of any girl out of the context that she was born in a particular caste.

    But they [I mean Brahmins] ALL believe that they have done [GOOD] enough to protect them—I mean the girls. Even if the actor, here, I suppose, going purely by my guess work, was a Brahmin.

    They [I mean the Brahmins] look down upon them [I mean the (Marathi) “itar” (English translation): “others”].

    Sometimes they (I mean the former) even inter-marry them (I mean the latter), out of an internal vacuous need of some sorts. [I know such Brahmin-borns, COEP educated [You Know, The Good-Looking Building], and then, not necessarily marrying. I know them at the first hand.]

    At other times, they [I mean the Brahmins] exercise every thought-process known to mankind (of which they think they are the Loving Guardians) just in order to protect a single thought—what happens if their genes get intermingled? what if their girls marry non-Brahmins? isn’t the integrity of genes, of whitish appearances, of straight noses (etc.) of Truly Metaphysical Importance?

    Any picture of Anoushka Dandekar on your blog, Akshar—the son of the farmers from Goa, going by your description of yourself over the years? and, to add to that, very proud of your Hindu roots? dharma raksha(tu/ti) etc? Has your Hindu etc. dharma etc. been with YOUR life all along? including reading this comment?

    No, you will never post a SUFFICIENTLY COMPREHENSIVE reply. You are in San Francisco Bay Area, the New Home of the Brahmin. That’s why.

    I may be wrong here and there, but not too much. If too wrong, please do correct me. Thanks in advace; know that it would have helped me.

    In any case, very sincerely, I shall respond to you. [But, I already guess, it’s getting near nonlinearity, catastrophe. I will honour my word, in any case, though. And, BTW, think: what CASTE—i.e. a set of ENFORCED ideas—helps a simple person place HIGHER value on HONORING his WORD in ACTION, to the POINT of his own possible DEATH?…. Just think. ….]

    In a [[very] limited] sense, yours,

    [But don’t split my comments paras-by-paras, or words-by-words, first. First, try to get the overall sense of it. But in case you don’t, as they say, we all were born human beings—girls having castes, or girls having no castes. And the point to begin appreciating that point does not begin with Sairat. It begins with your Sangh Rakshak Abhay Vaidya of Pune.

    [And, now try to edit this comment, as on Atanu Dey’s blog: deeshaa.org.]]
    [But the time to say that I was just sharing a song has long past gone.]

    –Ajit

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