Tuesday, 2 February 2010

Meristan mein baharistani (Baharistanis in Meristan)

All the characters and ares used in this story are fictious and carry no resemblance with some one. If there is any then it is only a coincidence.
इस कहानी के सभी पात्र काल्पनिक हैं और उनका किसी भी घटना या जगह से कोई लेना देना नहीं है. अगर कोई मेल खता है तोह ये मात्र संजोग है!

"Hit Him! Don't Let him Go! Catch !" , shouted  Meer. They caught hold of a young man. He was around eighteen years of age. Smart  and educated boy. They started beating him. After he was bashed up, he lay on the street not in the condition of getting up. He thought bewildered "why" ?

Hi, I am Tarun. I was the young man in the above story. Now I am an old man. Old enough, that I don't need to introduce my self to everyone as old. They already know by my gray hair. I was born in Baharistan. I lived my17 years here and went to study in Meristan. Many people used to go then. Some to earn money and others for studies.

After the incident happened I always used to think why did they do that? Why to me ? I did not even know them. I was so hurt and heart broken. My self respect and along me Baharistan's self respect called and defamed the incident judging the persons who hit me criminals and Meristan a place which is unsafe and hostile. I wanted those guys to get punished. I never ever had hit any body there. Then Why , i wondered.

The incidents grew. Baharistanis in Meristan and vice versa were not having a good time. I was happy when a Meristani got hit on my land. This continued and relations worsened.

The aftermath of initial incidents was really unfortunate and today when I see back I feel ashamed. Not at my self , not at others and not at my land or outside land, but I feel ashamed at us all as humans. We never tried to get to the core of the reason why all this violence and hatred grew.

Today I realise, we Baharistanis were creating a influence in Meristan which was not in synchronization with their culture. As they did here in Baharistan. We never accepted each other's culture.
We always felt that women were bound to behave in a certain way. One example, like they should not wear short skirts and show off. If they do so our mentallity as per our culture was that yes, she is like this because she wants a guy and so on the young guys talks. They did not like the adulturation in their culture and rarely but they say.

The other way round happened in our land. Then finally the patience and power of tolerance ended. A flurry of violent things stared and the relationships ruined.

I feel guilty for the day I was happy when a Meristani was hit in my land. I feel I should be more of a human than a blind Patriot. It should've been a positive nationalism , which seems to be dying today.
 As I lay on my death bed today I remember all this and think that I am going to meet Meer in the after life. Yes the same Meer who hit me. Yes, the same Meer I killed in revenge of Baharistan's self respect. . . . .

नफरत से क्या हासिल है तुम्हे होने वाला
अरे ओ आग से आग को बुझाने वालों
सागर भरे पड़े हैं,  उसे फैला दो
बड़े बड़े तंज-ओ-गिला कसने वालों
अपने रकीब से मोहब्बत कर लो
अपने ही दोस्त को मिटने वालों
नफरत से क्या हासिल है तुम्हे होने वाला

दिल-ए-गुल कोई खिला लो
ओह गुलिस्तान को मिटने वालों!

1 comment:

  1. Amazed!...the story and and then the poem. Liked the depth :)
    Meer and Tarun are between ourselves...only we can let them befriends. Very nice post..