Ek Sachchi Amma ki Kahaani!

I wrapped up the last leg of my 10 km walk and a satisfying smile covered my face. This was often followed by a small act of self-pampering - treating myself to a dose of good music, while positioned strategically on the corner bench of the park, amidst the man-made "nature". Talk of simple pleasures of life!

As I approached my regular bench, I saw a frail figure already seated there. It would have looked really rude to just turn around so I continued forward. And now I could see the figure on the bench more distinctly - an elderly woman (okay make that old!), clad in a printed cotton salwar-kurta, of short and petite frame, with the darkness of times she had traversed through, written all over her face!

Her face was engulfed by lines, of all sizes, running in all directions. When she saw me, those lines curved into a smile, reminding me of the caricatures we drew in our art class. I smiled hesitantly and sat on the bench, at a considerable distance, the maximum a limited size bench could offer. 

She had now turned towards me, and I could feel her gaze on me. It was slightly uncomfortable and I was already doubting my sensibilities while choosing to sit there when she asked, 

"Aap yahiin rehte ho beta?" 

The voice was shaking. I could feel the vibrations. Oh wait, I could hear the vibrations. I looked up from my phone and said a quick, "ji..", only to get busy in my phone again, or at least pretend to!

Well, to cut the long story short, we spent the next half an hour talking, rather me listening to her. She seemed to be a highly intelligent lady, very well read, and having excellent communication skills. It turned out, she had just returned from her son's place in Delhi, where she was taken to, after the death of her husband. 

She turned into the quintessential proud mother when talking about her highly successful son. Her eyes gleamed when she informed me about her son being a state-topper, while in college, and how she had stood by him, through his fears and apprehensions, as a mother. She seemed to remember those incidents which definitely occurred at least fifty years before, with such precise detailing like it was just yesterday. She talked about her accomplished daughters who lived in the same city. She talked about her adorable grand-children, and how they ALL wanted her to stay in Delhi only but it was she who was adamant to come back - to this old house in the city, where she had to fend for herself, with no support from any one, at the tender age of 80. 

I was reminded of this beautiful poem by Zehra Nigaah, "Ek Sachchi Amma ki Kahaani." Something cringed deep within me, that almost felt like a pain. I got up, gave her a tight hug, promised to meet her the next day, and left with that pain now brimming my eyes.

Mire bachche ye kehte haiN

“Tum aati ho to ghar meiN raunaqeiN khushbueiN aatii haiN

Ye jannat jo milii hai sab unhii  qadmoN kii barqat hai

Hamaare vaaste rakhna tumhaaraa ik sa.aadat hai

Badii mushqil se maiN daaman chhuDaa kar lauT aayii hooN

Vo aaNsuu aur wo ghamgeen chehre yaad aate haiN

Abhii mat jao, ruk jao, ye jumle sataate haiN

MaiN ye saari kahaani aane waaloN ko sunaatii hooN

Mire lahaje se lipTaa jhuuT sab pehchaan jaate haiN

Bahut tahziib waale log haiN sab maan jaate hain

              -Zehra Nigaah (Ek Sachchi Amma ki Kahaani)

मिरे बच्चे ये कहते हैं 

"तुम आती हो तो घर में रौनक़ें खुशबुएँ आती हैं 

ये जन्नत जो मिली है सब उन्ही क़दमों की बरक़त है 

हमारे वास्ते रखना तुम्हारा इक सआदत है।" 

बड़ी  मुश्क़िल से मैं दामन छुड़ा कर लौट आयी हूँ 

वो आँसू और वो ग़मगीन चेहरे याद आते हैं 

अभी मत जाओ रुक जाओ,  ये जुमले सताते हैं 

मैं ये सारी कहानी आने वालों को सुनाती हूँ 

मिरे लहजे से लिपटा झूट सब पहचान जाते हैं 

बहुत तहज़ीब वाले लोग हैं सब मान जाते हैं 

                           

                 - ज़ेहरा निगाह (एक सच्ची अम्माँ की कहानी)

©Fursatnama