2011, 1983 and a little more...

I watched with my fingers crossed, as Dhoni hit a massive six over long on to grab the Cricket World Cup and made India the World Champions. As his teams-mates carried Sachin over their shoulders, a nation erupted into joy and celebrations. Last night I encountered some of the most wonderful and unbelievable scenes of celebrations on roads: people carrying the Indian flags on motorbikes and cars chanting "Bharat Maata ki Jai", crazy boys tearing their shirts off and dancing their hearts out; strangers shaking hands, hugging each other and giving high fives. Somehow all our differences just evaporated by the warmth of this victory. It may be for a day but atleast for a day, nobody seemed  to be rich or poor, nobody was a Hindu or a Muslim, nobody belonged to a high caste or low caste. Instead, we all were common men and women, natives of INDIA, with a common feeling of ecstasy and pride. This feeling was something special, something grand.

Amongst this lovable chaos, my mind raced back to some past memories of the time, I had spent with my father. He was an avid cricket fan. We watched many matches together, on TV. We had a lot of heated arguements while discussing cricket as he used to always rank his generation of cricketrs much higher than my generation of cricketers. For him, Kapil Dev and Vivian Richards were the greatest cricketers of all time. We (me and my brother) used to roll on floor laughing when he kept emphasizing that the opening pair of Sunil Gavaskar and Chetan Chauhan was better than the opening pair of Sachin and Sourav. But the most irritating part of his conversations was his repetitive lores of the Indian victory of 1983 World Cup. He used to tell us how he and his friends and brothers cheered and chanted "Go India Go".... "Go Kapil Go...", how they celebrated the big occasion on streets and how much proud he felt watching on TV, his hero Kapil holding the World Cup trophy from the famous Lord's balcony. I never understood his passion for this event and especially for players like Roger Binny, Mohinder Amarnath and also Kapil Dev to some extent. I always thought that these players may be good  but they can never match the genius of Sachin, Ganguly and Yuvraj. 

But after yesterday's win, all his cricket conversations, are now making sense to me. I can relate to his passion and feelings. All these years, I have cheered for our team, much like him, with passion and pride and waited long for them to win the ultimate cup. Over the years many of the players of my generation have retired without living this dream.As these players were finding up new careers - some as commentators, others as state cricket board administrators, my interest in Cricket was slowing fading away. Only Sachin was the glue that kept me to stick to important matches, asking scores, criticizing young cricketers who were undoing all the good work that Sachin did for the team. I now can understand my father's favoritism for his generation of cricketers. I now can understand why he preferred watching the repeats of 1983 world cup Final match over the recordings of Sachin's marvelous batting of Sharjah cup.

The loud noise of crackers, brought me back to the present. As I watched my friends dancing and rejoicing, I made a promise to myself - I will narrate the stories of this day to my son when he grows up and I will not give it a damn if he is irritated by listening to it over and over again.

In the name of HONOUR (Final Part)

(A follow up from Part-1)

Kamla looked stone-faced, staring into nothingness. 

Khemraaj broke the grave silence, "Sister, why are you saying so? What curse are you talking about?" 

But Rahul didn't gave Kamla a chance to reply. He, himself, angrily, jumped into conversation, "Now, this was the only idiotic thing left in this matter. A curse...What a joke. In 21st century, these people still believe in these stupid things. Curse...my foot. These people are illiterate and this is the only curse, I can comprehend. Khemraaj, pack your bags. We will leave today evening. I now have enough matter for reporting."

Rahul pulled out a cigarette in disgust and desperately, rolled down the switch of his lighter. To add to his agony, the lighter didn't work.

Khemraaj helped him lit his cigarette with his match-box and said, "Rahul sir, lets listen to her. May be she will tell us something worthwhile."  

Kamla didn't wait for Rahul's approval and started speaking, "This deadly situation is all because of the cruelties inflicted on Tejas and his family by  Sarpanch Joginder Singh. Infact, all the panchs including my husband and other influential people of this village were involved in this."

Rahul interrupted in between, "Khemraaj, this is not a time for listening to bed-side stories. Let's go." 

Khemraaj looked in despair with a little anger towards Rahul but his position in the company forced him to change his expressions to helplessness. 

He made a final attempt, "Sir, may be, what we are going to hear is all rubbish. But lets give it a try. This woman has come out from her home, to tell us something that she strongly feels we should know. We are unknown to her but she has a hope that we will listen to her and may provide some kind of help for something. Its not an easy step for a woman, in this village, to come out and talk to strangers in this manner. In their entire lifetimes, very few people are able to speak their minds. Let us, at least, respect her courage."

 

Rahul was dumb-struck. He had never anticipated that Khemraaj can be so mature. Atleast, he was, till now, unaware of his own immaturity as a journalist. Khemraaj seemed to be in-charge now.

Kamla continued, "Tejas was the son of Jairaaj, a farmer with a small piece of land. He was a  hard-working young boy who toiled his land with his father from early morning to afternoon. In the evening, he worked in our home looking after our cattle. He was an ever smiling boy and the whole village was full of his praise. I don't know, how he came in contact with Gauri, who was the daughter of our village's Sarpanch Joginder Singh. I, still can't understand, how Tejas dared to even think that he can marry Gauri. Love should always be backed with  possible consequences, atleast for the poor and weak. But this was not the case here. They started meeting each other in a mango-yard, near the main village well. Some people say that Gauri had plans of eloping with Tejas to a nearby village, to his relatives' place. But before they could do such a thing, their relation went public in the village. It was a matter of great dishonour for Joginderji. Then, followed a string of very gruesome and unfortunate events."

Kamla's eyes turned red, perhaps by the fury of the past. She struggled to control her tears and said, "Joginder Singh, along with my husband and some other rich villagers, burnt the home and crops of Tejas. His parents were burnt alive in front him. They tied Tejas along with their cattle and didn't give him anything to eat for 3 days. They constantly beat him for 3 days and on the night of the 3rd day, they brought Gauri to see him. Then, in front of Gauri, they cut his fingers one by one, abusing him and at their height of cruelity, they crushed Tejas into a wheat grinder. All the remains of his flesh were thrown for crows and vultures to eat. Sahab, Tejas died an extremely painful death.

Rahul and Khemraaj were shocked to listen to these gory details. Rahul, with a much softened voice now, spoke," What about police? Law? How can somebody do this to anybody?"

"There is no law here, sahab. Panchs are the law-makers and the law-breakers. Nobody opened their mouths or else they would have met the same fate"

"But why did they kill Tejas and his parents? And in such brutal way. They could have easily made sure that Gauri is not able to elope. They could have asked Tejas and his parents to leave the village. They could have married Gauri to someone else. There could have have been so many other possibilities. Why did they murder them so horrifically?"

"For their honour.....false honour" Kamla burst into tears.

"But what happened to Gauri? Is she alive?" - Khemraaj asked hurriedly, as though, fearing that everybody seemed to forget her.

"That's what is this curse all about, Sahab. People say that Gauri lost her consciousness watching the wickedness of his father. When she came to her senses, she had gone mad.One unfateful night, she came out to the main village well, where she and Tejas, used to meet. For hours, she kept weeping  and  grieving for her love. At night, she cut her hairs and fingers and threw them into the well, cursing the village for her situation. People say, she died on the edge of the well, and all her blood kept dripping into the well."

"Believe me, it is Gauri's curse which has brought the village into this situation. People say that her spirit still haunts near the well and in the near by mango-yard."

Kamla wiped her tears and said, "Call us illiterate, sahab but I challenge you to try all the methods your government plans to solve the water problem of this village. You can give any reason for this situation but I and all the villagers know the real cause of it. If you can, try to bring out the real cause in your magazine". She left for her home, may be to fled from the village soon.

Rahul was shaken. His education, his logic and his very being were defying the 'curse' part of the whole story, out rightly. But an inner voice was almost making him deaf and blind. He wanted to believe in this superstition.

While going back to Train Station, he went to the village well. The entire surrounding was engulfed into an eeriness. He looked into the well, not knowing, whether he wanted to see water or the blood. Nothing was there. He was in dilemna whether to report the scarcity of water or the scarcity of humanity!

(End Note: More than 1000 people get killed in India every year due to some form of Honour Killing. Visit this: http://www.honourkilling.in  This country, which boasts of exponential GDP growth, rapid development and world leadership, still needs some strong legislation to deal with such heinous crime)

आज जब सुबह आई....

आज जब सुबह आई; अंगड़ाई  के साथ तुम्हारा ख्याल भी लायी ;

पीछे पीछे, दबे पाँव, एक शिकवा, वो एक गिला चला आया;

बीत चुके वक़्त का,  एक सिला भी याद आया ;

एक  कंगन की कहानी, वो मेरी छोटी सी नादानी ;

कुछ ख्वाबो का ताना बाना, एक बेतुकी जिद का फ़साना;

वो बात अब नहीं, पर फिर भी कोई बात तों है,

वरना आज अचानक् क्यों उस गुज़रे ज़माने का चलन याद आया|

In the name of HONOUR - Part-1

'Don't give me such kind of assignments Prat! You know I am not good at this stuff. Besides, at first place, I even wonder why we have to do it, at all' - Rahul screamed at the top of his lungs.

'Look Rahul, this is not in my hands. The decisions have a say of many other people, apart from me. We have to do this cover story for our November issue and you have got full 1 month. Why are you panicking so much? Take it as an unusual vacation. Go to this village, roam around, talk to few people and prepare a write up. Its a chance for you to have a small break from the regular city life.' - Pratham said, emitting the cigarette smoke into the air while scribbling something on a paper.

 'Its a chance for you to have a small break from the regular city life.' - Rahul mimicked angrily.

'Don't be a brat. It will be easy. Here are the contact details of Khemraj. He is our collegue and operates from the district to which this village belongs. He will assist you in your work.  

Pratham handed over the piece of paper to Rahul. Rahul slipped it, deep into his pocket as if he did not want to find it out ever.

Rahul was working as a journalist in a news magazine office at New Delhi. He was assigned to cover a story about the sudden fled-ding of inhabitants of a village named 'Gurupur' in far eastern India. For Rahul, this assignment appeared extremely boring and tasteless. There was nothing to do here. There was scaricity of drinking water in the village and hence people were fleding from it. It was so much straight. He did not want to waste his time and energy, writing about it. Infact, there was nothing to write about, according to him, in this case. It ought to be a maximum 4 lines mention in a small corner on the second-last page of the magazine but his editor was asking to write a cover story on this.

The train stopped at a place that hardly looked like a train station. Rahul stepped down and instantly thought of getting back to Delhi. But comforting thoughts, very seldom, turn into reality. He pulled his suitcase and dragged himself towards the exit.

"Rahul Sir, electricity is a big problem here" - said Khemraj while placing the candle into the niche in wall.

"We will start from tomorrow. I have identified few people who we can interview" - he added.

"Khemraaj, now seriously tell me. What do you think about this? Why are these people are going away from their homes"

"Sir, there is huge scarcity of drinking water in the village. To remain alive they have to find a suitable place"

"Exactly..., then what are we doing here. What story would we cover, whats there to write about...Tell me"

"Sir, I am in this job for about 10 years now. Not everyday, you will get exciting or challenging stuff. Sometimes, you have to live through this kind of work too. I have arranged for some villagers to talk to us tomorrow. Lets talk to them and see what we can report." 

Khemraaj succeeded a little in soothing Rahul's frustration. He pulled the bed sheet over his face to rescue himself from mosquitoes and searched for some sleep.

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The morning looked sad and deserted. While, strolling through the muddy village roads, they saw many people travelling along with their belongings and children. It was difficult to distinguish between the baggage and the children as both were being handled almost similarly. Rahul lighted up another cigarette. It was his fourth since morning. They were going to meet Ramdin, one of the Panchs of the village.

Khemraaj greeted Ramdin who was adjusting his hukka, "Hello Ramdinji, we hope you are having a nice morning." Ramdin smiled and replied, "Ram-Ram, come, I was waiting for you."

Ramdin arranged 2 chairs for them and ordered his wife, Kamla, for 2 glasses of water. Kamla disappeared into the kitchen, while Rahul tried to fit himself into the rickety chair. Khemraaj pulled out his recorder and started juggling with its knobs. Ramdin became alert and adjusted his clothes. Rahul smiled sarcastically. Ramdin became conscious and shyly said," You see, this is my first interview!". Meanwhile, Kamla handed over the glasses of water to Rahul and Khemraaj. Ramdin caught Rahul noticing that the glasses were only half-filled and quickly commented, "This is out of the last stock we saved".

"So, you are also planning to leave"

"Yes, we have to. There is not much drinking water left now".

"How did this problem arise. I guess you and other villagers have been living in this village for many years. What has suddenly happened."

"Nothing has suddenly happened, sahab but its quite straight-forward. For 3 years in a row, monsoons have not been good. All the wells in the village have dried up. There is no water to drink."

"But what about the initiatives of government. They have started the constuction of check-dams and deepening of wells. I heard, they have also formed a Village Water and Sanitation Committee here for the management of water-harvesting plants. What about all this?"

"Nothing is happening Sir. The government officials are just filling up their books and pockets."

Rahul asked some more routine questions and gestured Khemraaj to get up. He noticed that Kamla was looking at him, mysteriously, perhaps filled with a little fear.

From Ramdin's place, they went to meet some other people, interviewed them and went back to their place of stay. Ramdin's wife was standing at their door.

"This village is repenting for its sins. This situation is due to a curse on all villagers. Believe me Sahab, this is a curse."

Khemraaj and Rahul looked at each other. They were not sure how to react to Kamla's words.

                                                                                           ---- (To be Continued)

Happy First Birthday!

Dear Saatvik,

Congratulations!!!You are 1 year old today. Ah.....looking at these pictures make me feel that you are already a big boy by now.

I want to believe that you still have not learned how to handle nature's calls skillfully. But the naughty twinkle in your eyes makes me doubt that you are aware of everything and you knowingly soak your liquids on my clothes. Sometimes, on my face too(on my most unlucky days).

 

Last year has been an year of so many events and happenings. You, ofcourse, were the center, for most of them. Everything seems to be for you and around you. And why not? You have given so much joy to everyone of us. Infact, your grand parents seem to have got a new life altogether. I have never seen them behaving so childishly, lively and sometimes awkward, I must say. And your mom - what should I say about her. You are her most prized possession, more important than anybody, even much more important than me. I am really surprised by your unique connection with her. You are still not able to speak anything, but she seems to understand every little gesture of  yours and every little thing you require. She knows exactly when you are hungry or thirsty, when you want to be held in lap or when you want to be left on the ground. She is perfectly aware of your wake up timings, almost to the precision of a minute. She knows everything about you. You, kind of, communicate with your eyes with her. I don't know how both of you just perfectly fit with each-other. May be, this is what mothers are all about. Am I jealous?

(Watch your finger kid!!)

Probably yes, because I am completely on the opposite end. I always end up holding you from the wrong side. Somehow, you always get uncomfortable in my lap after a certain period of time. You are always more interested in sucking my mobile phone than playing with me. Though you seem to enjoy when I make you jump in the air, but that fun lasts for only 2-3 minutes and soon, you start looking around, searching for your mother. I don't know why you start crying inspite of the fact that I try to take utmost care while holding you. Now, this is not fair. I sometimes make a cartoon of myself and work really hard to entertain you but guess what, it almost always ends up in a flop show. Your mother gives me tips about building a rapport with you, but frankly speaking, I find those tips completely illogical and irrational. Your mom says that I don't play with you, instead I mess with you. But I don't...believe me.....Perhaps, I am just so terrible at these things. Anyways, I have not lost hope. I will definitely make you fall in love with me one day.

There came a few lows in past year, as well and the biggest one of those was when you fell terribly ill and had to be hospitalized for 3 days. I was away from home for a month and nobody told me about this. I only came to know once you were back home. Your mother told that your whole body had swollen due to some kind of bacterial infection and you were in so much pain. I believe you fought bravely, with a little help from the doctor, to beat the disease. I am so proud of you for this and I feel guilty, I was not there in such demanding times. I missed you so much while I was away.

You have introduced me to the joy of being able to grow up again. I had completely forgot the simple pleasures of life. Now, with you, it seems I have re-discovered them. I am not in any kind of hurry now. I like sitting idle, watching you, trying to understand your strange and sometimes silly expressions. I like when you roll your tongue in awkward manner and close your lips, almost spitting at me. I don't know why you turn upside down and try to crawl with the help of your head. Its fun to watch, though. My heart comes to my mouth when you fall , at-times, trying to drag or stand up. But now, watching you, I understand that falling is an important part of learning how to stand up. You  rise strongly everytime you fall. Nothing seems to be impossible to you. You try to grab the sun-rays , you try to hold your own shadow and you never care for the fact that you have reached to the end of the bed. Gravity simply doesn't matter to you at all. I like when you get excited and throw your little hands in air when a pigeon flutters its wings on our balcony railing. Never before, I had realized that watching pigeons can provide so much joy.

And I also like to play along you, with your toys. Here is one little secret. Though I show everybody that I am playing with your toys to make you happy, but the fact is, I myself enjoy them very much. You see, they make such wonderful toys these days. I especially like that monkey with the long neck. And you know what, these days I am searching for the big dolphin, I brought for you. Your mom has hided it from me. She says, I will break it. I like when she remarks that she is having a tough time in handling 2 kids - you and me. I feel privileged to be put in your class.

 I like watching your mom trying to make you sleep. While doing so, she is so much full of love and care for you. Its amazing to see that contentment on her face. You see, mothers are people who spend their nights, awake, just to make sure that their kids sleep peacefully. Mothers...hmmmphhhhh.....I also tried to help you sleep many times but  instead, ended up disturbing the sleep of neighbors. I promise, I will practice hard to improve at it. But I like it very much, when your mom or your grandmother compare your certain mannerisms with me and say:                                                                                   "LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON".

Happy Birthday once again dear! A large part of  your birthday cake, I brought today, will be devoured by me but I am sure in the coming years, you will fight with me to have the most of it. I have one more thing to share with you. Before you, I was never ever a baby-friendly person. I was not a 'baby-hater' but I was also not a 'baby-lover'. I was reluctant to hold babies, never enjoyed their company and atleast never found them 'CUTE', for sure. But with you, I have changed and it feels lot better to be what I am at present than what I was in past. I am now not shy to accept that I am a baby person. Day by day, you are evolving into such a wonderful son. Its great to have lived some amazing moments of life with you. We have crossed 1 year and I guess, we are comfortably poised to enjoy the rest of our journey together.

No, I am not finished yet..... :)

I hope you will grow up to have the indomitable spirit similar to that of the person shown in the below video or may be better than him. I wish I can be a father like the one shown here or may be better than him. ;)

My Birthday Cake

(This happened almost literally with me today. :) Thank You Dear wife for such lovely cake)


 Birthdays are nature's way of saying to have more cakes!!

शबरी के बेर

"माई, अनोखी पगली हो तुम! किसको पता की राम यहाँ आयेंगे या नहीं और वो यहाँ क्यों आयेंगे| क्या वो तुमको जानते हैं? क्या तुमने कोई संदेसा भिजवाया है? विचित्र बातें करती हो तुम| इतना बड़ा संसार है| उन्हें क्या पता की कोई शबरी कई वर्षों से उनकी राह  देख रही है| वो राजा हैं| तुम तों ऐसे ही भगवान् मान के बैठी हो| अरे, भगवान् हैं तों आये क्यों नहीं अभी तक| इतने वर्षों से देख रहा हूँ - प्रतिदिन पूजा करती हो, गहरे जंगले से फूल और फल चुनती हो, भजन गाती हो, रास्ते के कांटे साफ़ करती हो, लोगों के अट्टहास का विषय बनती हो| पागल हुए जा रही हो| क्यों दुःख देती हो इतना अपने को| तुम्हारे ह्रदय की पीर का रामजी को कुछ नहीं पता| तुम समझ क्यों नहीं रही हो, वो नहीं आयेंगे, वो नहीं आयेंगे|" - कुछ खीज कर मैंने इस अध्-पगली बुढिया को समझाने का प्रयत्न किया| जाने कहाँ से वो यहाँ, ऋषि मतंग के आश्रम में आ गयी थी और जाने कहाँ से रामजी से मिलने का विचार अपने ह्रदय से लगा बैठी| गुरूजी ने भी ना जाने क्या सोच कर इस भीलनी को यहाँ रहने की अनुमति प्रदान कर दी| पर जो भी हो, शबरी माई ने अपनी लगन और सेवा-भाव से सभी आश्रम वासियों का मनं जीत लिया| इसी कारण, मैं यदा-कदा शबरी माई को ये  रामजी से मिलने के  व्यर्थ विचार को त्यागने  का सुझाव देता, पर माई  कहाँ सुनने वाली थी| लगता था, वो तों राम की भक्ति में लीन हो अपना विवेक और समझ, सब गवां बैठी थी|

मेरी बातें सुन, एक गहरी सांस छोड़ कर बोली, "प्रभु राम बड़े दयालूँ  हैं| वो अपने भक्तों का पूरा ध्यान रखते हैं| मैं तों इतनी समर्थ भी नहीं की अपने मुख से उनकी सच्ची  प्रशंशा कर सकूं| अगर वो नहीं आये हैं तों इसमें उनका दोष नहीं है| मेरी ही भक्ति में कुछ त्रुटि रह गयी होगी| पर मेरा मन जानता है की वो ज़रूर आयेंगे| जग वालों के लिए मैं अछूत हूँ पर मुझे विश्वास है की राम के स्पर्श से ही मेरी नैया पार लगेगी| तुम देखना, तरु, वो ज़रूर आयेंगे|"

"वाह ऱी मेरी भोली मैया| तुम भी कमाल हो| कितना सरल तर्क दिया है की अगर राम नहीं आये तों इसमें भी तुम्हारी ही कमी है| कहाँ से लाती हो इतना प्रेम और इतनी श्रद्धा| अब भोजन कर लो या फिर राम नाम से ही पेट भर लोगी" - मैं,  दीपक जलाते-जलाते बोला और अपनी ऊँगली जला बैठा| शबरी माई तपाक से बोली, "और करो मेरे राम का उपहास| यही होगा तुम्हारे साथ"| हम दोनों हँस दिए!

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कुटिया के बाहर बहुत कोलाहल था| सभी लोग बदहवास से इधर उधर भाग रहे थे| एक पल के लिए मुझे लगा की किसी दानव ने आक्रमण कर दिया है पर लोगों के चेहरे प्रसन्नता से दमक रहे थे| उन पर भय नहीं, ख़ुशी व्याप्त थी| मैंने लगभग भुज का हाथ पकड़  उसे रोका और पुछा, "ये क्या हो रहा है, भुज| सब लोग कहाँ जा रहे हैं"|

"क्या कह रहे हो तुम, तरु| क्या तुम्हे ज्ञात नहीं की आज, श्रीराम हमारे आश्रम में आ रहे हैं| हम सभी लोग उनके स्वागत के लिए जा रहे हैं'| कितने अहो भाग्य हैं हमारे| चलो, तुम भी चलो"| मैंने तुरंत, माई की कुटिया की तरफ देखा| वहां कोई नहीं था|

पूरा मार्ग 'जय श्रीराम' के उच्चारण से गूँज रहा था| लगा, जैसे पक्षी भी यही चहचहा रहे थे| चारों ओर से पुष्प वर्षा हो रही थी| मैं आश्चर्यचकित, ठिठका सा खड़ा था| विश्वास ही नहीं हुआ की स्वय्मं राम और लखन मेरे सामने थे! कितना आलौकिक रूप था उनका, कितना तेजस्वी व्यक्तित्व | जैसा सुना था, उससे कहीं बढ़कर पाया| मेरा सम्मोहन, शबरी माई की वाणी से भंग हुआ ,"देखो तरु, मैं कहती थी ना, मेरे राम आयेंगे! मेरे राम, ये सब लोग मेरा कहा सुनते ही नहीं थे| पर मुझे सम्पूर्ण विशवास था की आप आओगे| कितना समय लगाया आने में| मेरी आँखें सूख गयी आपकी राह तकते तकते!" और ये कहते कहते वो फूट फूट कर रोने लगी! राम भाव-विहल होके माई को सहारा देते हुए बोले, "माँ, अपने पुत्र को क्षमा करो, मैंने बहुत समय लिया आने में!"

आज उस दबी, चुप-चाप सबकी बातें सहने वाली, में जाने कहाँ से इतनी शक्ति आई की उसने लगभग आदेश देते हुए कहा, "राम, सबसे पहले मेरी कुटी में जायेंगे|" बड़ी तेज़ी से, जाने कहाँ से, वो  एक बर्तन में जल ले के आई और अपने आँचल से रामजी के चरण-कमल धो धो कर पोछने लगी| अश्रु लिप्त होठों से बोली, "आइये राम| अपनी इस भक्त का निवास धन्य कीजिये"| राम ने स्थान ग्रहण किया| हम सब बाहर से ही इस द्रश्य का आनंद ले रहे थे|  शबरी, मंत्र-मुग्ध सी, राम को निहार  रही थी और रोती जा रही थी! अनायास ही राम बोले," माँ, बहुत भूक लगी है| कुछ खाने को दो ना!" शबरी जैसे नींद से जागी, "ओह  मेरे राम! मुझे क्षमा करो| मैं आपके लिए सुबह ही ताज़े फल लायी थी| प्रतिदिन लाती थी, यही सोच कर, की आप जाने  किस दिन आ जाओ|"

मैं बाहर खड़ा मुस्कुरा रहा था और अन्दर, शबरी ख़ुशी में कुछ गाते हुए, अपने लाये हुए बेर एक टोकरी  में भर रही थी| उसने पोंछ कर एक बेर राम की तरफ बढाया पर कुछ सोच कर ठिठक गयी| राम उसका चेहरा देख कर मंद मंद मुस्कुराये  जैसे उन्हें पता हो की शबरी के मन में क्या चल रहा है| अगले ही पल मेरे पैरों तले धरती खिसक गयी जब मैंने देखा की शबरी ने उस बेर को चखा, मन ही मन कुछ बुदबुदाई और फिर दूसरा बेर चखा| इस बार वो बेर श्रीराम के हाथ में देकर बोली, "प्रभु, ये वाला लीजिये| ये अत्यंत मीठा है|  हम सब ठगे से खड़े थे| लक्ष्मण भी कुछ विचलित दिखे| पर राम ने बहुत  प्रेम से वो बेर लिया और खा केर बोले," सच में माँ, ये तों बहुत मीठा है"| बस फिर क्या था, अब तों शबरी हर बेर चख कर श्रीराम को देने लगी और राम बड़े चाव से उनको खाने लगे| कितना अदभुध द्रश्य था| जगत के स्वामी अपने भक्त के झूठे बेर खा रहे, और भक्त उनके प्रेम में डूबा, चख चख कर खट्टे और मीठे बेर अलग कर रहा था| शबरी की इंतनी श्रधा देखकर प्रभु श्री राम भी अपनी अश्रुधारा नहीं रोक पाए, फिर हम तों साधारण जीव थे| शबरी का प्रेम कितना सरल, कितना सच्चा और कितना गहरा था |

एक पल ऐसा आया जब मुझे पता ही नहीं चल रहा था की दोनों में से कौन प्रभु है और कौन भक्त| प्रेम ने आत्मा और परमात्मा के इस फर्क को मिटा दिया| मैं बस यही सोचता रहा की संसार में क्या शबरी के इन बेरों से भी अधिक स्वाधिष्ट कुछ हो सकता है?