Thankyou Sachin

Thankyou Sachin

Monday, July 7, 2014

Meet SUDHA DIDI - A MARDAANI ,lighting up many lives

A woman in her twenties arrives from Kerela to Bihar as a teacher way back in 1965.Coming from a well off family she has just heard of the poverty and deprivation in Bihar. Deep inside she knew she wanted to work for the needy and downtrodden .Spending some evening hours at a leprosy centre and assisting the medical staff during cholera outbreaks, the deaths, the caste and class differentiation even in extreme  poverty moved her. She came across a community called Musahar community ,the most backward of all where the men folk worked daily as labors and then drank  in evening, women were abused ,girls were married off at the age of 7-8 years ,dirt and filth occupied their colonies, poverty has taken such an ugly form that they started eating “Rats” and to her utter shock, rapes of the girls by dominant  caste groups were a common occurrence ,never reported.

“Sudha Didi “  as they fondly call Padmashree Sudha Verghese ,the woman behind Nari Gunjan of Bihar empowering dalit girls and women since 21 years ,Ask Sudha didi and she will tell you her journey as a woman in a man’s world ,no one can uphold MARDANI in such a true sense as her.



From constructing nalas to demanding equal pay for work for the women ,educating their children to making aware of their rights, Sudha Didi was everywhere on her cycle, at their call . Though there are endless stories of service and humanity by this lady what really made me salute her was when she decided to fight against the rape of the dalit girls .It all started when she persuaded the family of a Gang rape victim in 1997 to file an FIR against the rapists assuring them that their prevails a justice of land and the accusers just can’t walk away. The dominant caste from which the rapists belonged came to their colony and threatened them. They could have never imagined that a frail looking Sudha didi was the strength behind women standing against them .After Thana gheraos, Road blocks, petitions ,  dhamki,years of legal fight and attempts to even shoot her she managed to put the rapists behind the bars .It lits up her eyes when she tells me that within two years of that incident ,9 rape cases were reported which brought down the incidences of rape as a tool to suppress women of lower caste.

From a lady who just walked into a musahar tola to stop the child marriage of a 8 year old girl ,as I pass through the girls hostel to meet Sudha Didi ,I saw a group of girls training for karate,somewhere inside girls were practicing instrumental music ,some were studying and as they wished me Good evening didi ,I realized that this woman has pulled these girls out of the trap of poverty ,rape and oppression  through her Nari Gunjan which has 250 hostels, 550 self help groups and now giving training to thousands of girls for making them self dependent.


I ask her –what drives you to work tirelessly for these girls?
Sudha Didi- I found meaningfulness in life by dedicating my life to them ,to the people who were left with no choices.I have seen many deaths, multiple struggles which gives me hope to carry forward this journey with people. It’s a blessing of God that I chose to work for them and without their support ,their generosity ,their love and care I could not have done what ever has been achieved .Its these people who drive me ,they eat a chapati less but they never forget to feed me ,they catch fish and rats and gift it to me as a matter of gratitude. what more can I ask for

I Ask her –At any point of time ,do you regret not having a family, coming to Bihar?
Sudha didi- Never! My family comprises thousands ,why would I regret
She smiles and we wave goodbye to her and to all the girls ,I am returning back again to teach Dance to the girls ,I was happy,I was contempt that I came to meet Sudha Verghese for the “MARDANI BLOGGING Contest” but above that I was carrying back utmost respect and a sense of service from her.

Some days make you a better person, I Just had one J


This is written as a part of I am Mardaani activity exclusively at BlogAdda.com for Indian Bloggers.



Saturday, July 5, 2014

Support KHABAR LEHARIYA.........its not just a newspaper

 Khabar Lahariya (Bundeli for ‘News Waves’) is a group of newspapers written, edited, illustrated, produced and marketed by rural women in Uttar Pradesh and Bihar from Dalit, tribal, Muslim and backward castes. It covers local news that mainstream media often ignores, and is the only local-language newspaper available to readers in the districts where it is published.
The first edition of Khabar Lahariya was launched in May 2002 in Chitrakoot district of Uttar Pradesh. Today, Khabar Lahariya has six editions in five local languages: Awadhi, Bundeli, Bajjika, Bhojpuri, and Hindustani. Its online edition, available at www.khabarlahariya.org, contains a selection of news from different editions in all these languages.
Winner of many prestigious awards like Chameli Devi award, UNESCO prize ,Khabar lehariya a potent tool of social engineering in the areas where they have made inroads on their own ,u can support this group by donating at 
http://www.ketto.org/campaign/campaign_details.php?fmd_id=175#.U7frjZSSww8
Support this newspaper in any way you can 

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

ठूंठ होता समाज

पेड़ पर लटकी दो लाशें
उस ठूंठ की तरह
जिसे गाँव की पगडण्डी से
आते जाते जिसे सबने देखा है
पर कभी किया नहीं अफ़सोस
उसके ख़त्म होने का
सूख जाने का
बंद दरवाज़ों से उतना डर नहीं लगता
जितना की भीड़ में घूरती निगाहों से
नेता जी की “जवानी की गलतियाँ”
छूती है मुझे भीड़ भरी बस में
“डेंटिंग- पेंटिंग “ लगाकर जब निकलती हूँ बाहर
बस स्टॉप पर होती है मुलाकात
एक आम लड़की से
जिसे “निर्भय” बनने का कभी कोई शौक नहीं था
 थोड़ा आगे बढ़ी तो सुनाइ दी एक चीख
बंद दरवाज़ों से जिसे हम घर कहते हैं
सारी गलती मेरी है या फिर मेरे कपड़ों की
की आगे बढ़ रहे हाथों को “भैया” नहीं कहा
बलात्कार पर बनने वाले कॉमिक सीन्स पर
 थिएटर में बैठे मैंने भी ठहाके लगाये थे
सत्यमेव जयते के नाम पर सिर्फ उस हीरो ने नहीं
दो घड़ियाली आंसू मैंने भी बहाए थे
तो जब किसी कोने में ,किसी कसबे में एक लड़की की नहीं
इंसानियत की होती है मौत
शराफत को कुचला जाता है पैरों तले
अस्मिता का गला दिया जाता है घोंट
और सभ्यता का होता है रेप
तो मैंने भी कभी
ठूंठ होते हुए समाज को किया है अनदेखा
आते जाते जिसे सबने देखा है
पर कभी किया नहीं अफ़सोस
उसके ख़त्म होने का
सूख जाने का


Monday, May 26, 2014

कहानियां

बचपन में रात होते ही
घर की छत पर सोया करते थे
तब सुनी थी बहुत कहानियां
राजा- रानी की माँ से
शिव पार्वती की दादी माँ से
फिर किताबों ने खोली एक नयी खिड़की
मिली मुझे सिन्ड्रेला जैसी लड़की
रपुन्ज़ेल के लम्बे बालों के किस्से
और हर कहानी में हैप्पी एंडिंग वाले हिस्से
कुछ नॉवेल ने ,कुछ सिनेमा ने
पीछे छोड़ दिया दादी माँ को
महादेवी का अकेला जीवन
या अमृता –इमरोज़ का एकाकीपन
बच्चन को ना कुछ भूलना था ना याद रखना
मुक्तिबोध का अपने ही दूजे से लड़ना
निराला ढूँढ रहे थे अपनी “सरोज” को
और दिनकर अपने खोये ओज को
अज्ञेय की कलम चलती चली जा रही थी
और नागार्जुन को देश की चिंता मार रही थी
व्हिस्की और वुमन के साथ खुशवंत थे खुश
और नयी सोच वाले अपने नाम से नाखुश
ज़िन्दगी की समझ के परदे खोलते ये लोग
एक अनसुलझी पहेली सुलझा रहे थे 
इन कहानियों पर पड़ी गर्त हटाने की कोशिश थी 
या फिर अपना सच चीख कर बता रहे थे 
रिश्तों के मूल के बीच में 
किश्तों सी कटती है ज़िन्दगी
यह खुद देख रहे थे कि
दुनिया को दिखा रहे थे 
फिर जब उठाया उसी सिन्ड्रेला को
तो वो कुछ हँसती हुई सी लगी
'जीना ' और 'जीना' के बीच का फासला 
मुझे वही पार करा रही थी 
कभी fantasy सा लगता सच,या सच की तरह fantasy
किताबों से निकली कहानी बुनी जा रही थी 
कुछ खिडकियों पर पड़ती बारिश सा 
जो अन्दर ना गिरकर भी भीगा रही थी 
दूर सी ,अजनबी सी लगती वो दुनिया
क्यूँ खिसकती नज़दीक आ रही है
बचपन का nostalgia कहूँ इसे
या मोहब्बत हो चली है 


Saturday, May 24, 2014

I have a dad who happens to be my hero........

We are a pets crazy family n yes it runs in our genes (don't count my mom though ,she is a complete no no when it comes to pets) .This memory goes back to two incidents n so different in time scales .It so happened that it was raining for continuously two days n the roads, canals, everything was flooded, no electricity (the time when there was no face book ,so it didn't matter much ) .We were trying to float our "very bad in shape" paper boats to the canal that flowed at the back of our home n suddenly we saw three little kittens who were born just two days back clinging to a wooden piece which was just on the verge of floating with the stream and a cat, their mother trying to enter into water to save them but the strong water flow pushing her back, As is every child's habit ,we ran to Daddy as we always believe at that age he has the solution to every problem in the world n told him about the plight of kittens He came with us and after a brief thought ,he entered into water n let me tell u it was not a fresh water canal ,it was the main canal that took the waste water away from the town ,embedded in water till his stomach, he picked them up n brought home ,washed them with damp cloth and fed them milk with a small spoon, the cat looked at him adoringly ,so did we n mummy with anger ,as always obsessed with cleanliness she was instructing dad to clean himself, take a bath n then enter the house........till date neither has mum changed nor my dad


*Next incident of my crazy dad goes to the time when we lost our sweetheart puppy Tipsy.Tipsy was a pet dog ,she was THE MOST IMPORTANT member of my family (n yes this time my maa also loved her)she fell ill n refused to eat anything ,even when we tried feeding her chicken (okk,its a big thing in a brahmin family but for tipsy to eat ,we could have done anything ) ,even the veterinary doctors refused to do any miracle n those days our diner table was silentn only conversation we used to have was of cursing the veterinary science (not the doctor because he happens to be my uncle) n one sad day after coming from her veterinary visit, she was no more ,we were crying ,i took her in my laps n sat for hours n in the afternoon my dad came from clinic n when he entered home, he could make out that tipsy was no more he took her in his lap n looked at her with absolutely expressionless eyes .It was decided that tipsy would be buried in my brother's factory area so that wild dogs won't dig her up n eat her body ,we went ,the laborers dig up a big hole ,tipsy was gently pushed inside and the worker started to pour mud over her body and suddenly my daddy who was silent all this time, screamed "Don't pour mud over her face ,it would hurt her eyes" n yes he cried ,cried like a little baby who was lost in a crowd ,completely unaware of people around watching that its the same Dr Saheb whom we look up to always is crying .Next day our maid came to work and she said to me ,"In the slum colony, the talk of the day was ,how Dr Saheb was crying "
that is why i said YOU CAN CALL HIM CRAZY I CALL HIM DADDY



There you are standing as tall as an oak tree when I am small

You stand over me guarding my actions and catch me when I fall

When I reach the teens you are there
giving me your knowledge and wit

and although the times get tougher as i grow you never ever quit.

as I reach adulthood I start to do things on my own

wondering how you did it from the time I was born until I was grown.

Then I remember all you have done for me throughout the years

Remembering you were there for me through the happy times and the tears

I am happy you are my Dad

It makes my heart feel merry and glad.

no other person could ever take your place

And i realize this as i look into your face

This Fathers Day I want to honor you

For all the wonderful things that you do


I am writing about #MyRoleModel as a part of the activity by Gillette India in association with BlogAdda.com.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

याद है तुम्हे वो परछाई

वो उठता समंदर
लुका छिपी खेलती चांदनी रात
लहरें दौड़ती थी और लौट जाती थी
उस सपने की तरह
जो आँख खुलते ही धुंधला जाता हो
बीच का तूफ़ान
यूँ मिलने की तड़प
टूट जाना तुम्हारी बाहों के किनारों में आकर
और एक शांत सी आह
फिर वही आवेग वही बैचैनी
एक आधी अंगड़ाई जैसी
याद है तुम्हें वो परछाई
लहरों के साथ उठती थी पर गिरती नहीं थी
किसी चित्रकार के पेंटब्रश से निकली
अघड़ सी एक तस्वीर
दो आकृतियाँ एक ही आकार में  
याद है तुम्हें वो परछाई
जो सिर्फ एक लम्हा नहीं था
ना ही ज़िन्दगी की दौड़ से चुरायी हुई एक ख़ुशी
वो सच था
मेरा सच
तुम्हारा सच
हमारा सच

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

यह दिल मांगे मोर शहादत और देशभक्ति की आवाज़ है ,किसी की बपौती नहीं

कैप्टेन विक्रम बत्रा .परम वीर चक्र अगर स्वर्ग से नीचे देख रहे होंगे (अगर!) तो जिस देश के लिए उन्होंने शहादत को हसते हसते पाकिस्तानी सैनिकों से गोलियों के बीच मजाक करते गले लगा लिया ,उस देश के नेताओं पर उन्हें शर्म आती होगी . टाइगर हिल को फतह करने के बाद उन्होंने भी नहीं सोचा होगा की “ यह दिल मांगे मोर” अटूट देशभक्ति की मिसाल बन जायेगा और क्या आपने सोचा है कि एक सैनिक देश के लिए अपनी जान क्यूँ कुर्बान करता है? क्या उसे अपनी ज़िन्दगी प्यारी नहीं होती? क्या उसे अमर होना होता है ?

नहीं !! एक सैनिक अपने कर्तव्य के लिए “ on the line of ड्यूटी “ अपनी जान न्योछावर करता है ,किसी तमगे ,भाषण ,आर्थिक सहायता या वाह वाही के लिए नहीं. और अगर हम शहीद विजयंत थापर या शहीद अरुण नैयेर के ज़ज्बे की बात करें या शहीद मनोज पाण्डे के गुस्से की –इन सभी शहीदों में एक बात सामान है – उनकी जिंदादिली मौत जैसी विषम परिस्थिति में भी.

हाल में ही श्री नरेन्द्र मोदी ने शहीद कैप्टेन विक्रम बत्रा के अमर शब्द वोट मांगने के लिए इस्तेमाल किये ,और अगर आप उनसे कारगिल युद्ध के सिर्फ परम वीर चक्र प्राप्त करने वाले सैनिकों के नाम पूछेंगे तो उन्हें पता नहीं होगा. भारतीय सेना अपने बलिदान की कीमत नहीं मांगती है तो राजनीति के नाम पर उनका ना तो मत घसिटिये . अगर यह कम नहीं था तो मिनाक्षी लेख ने यहानक कह दिया कि “यह दिल मांगे मोर “ पर किसी का कॉपीराइट नहीं है .तो श्रीमती लेखी –ये दिल मांगे मोर पर पूरे देश क कॉपीराइट है ,तिरंगे में लिपटे लाखों लोगो के आंसुओं के बीच अपना अंतिम सफ़र करते कैप्टेन बत्रा पर हर देशवासी का कॉपीराइट है


राजनीति करिए ,लम्बे वादे करिए पर वीरों की शहादत का मजाक मत बनाइये , ये दिल मांगे मोर पर किसी भी पार्टी की बपौती नहीं है यह सैनिकों के खून लेकर लहराते हुए तिरंगे का प्रतीक है