Sabji Acchi bani hai – Part 1

Setting: A typical IT company office in India. 3 cubicles (cutouts) can be seen, Stage center back. Three men are sitting with backs facing the audience. They appear to be working. They are – Sumit in the Stage Right cubicle, Shanky in the Stage center and Rahul/Ashutosh on Stage Left. Loud sighs can be heard coming from Shanky when the curtain opens.

After about 30 seconds of listening to the loud sighs.
Sumit (turning to Shanky): Abey yaar Shanky, itna udaas kyun hai?
Shanky (turns to Audience and rolls his chair to Stage Center): Ama yaar kya btaun, kimkartavyavimoodh ho rakha hun.
Rahul (turns and rolls his chair to Center Left): Kim Kardashian? Abey tu itna udaas hai ki khud ke words bnane lag gaya hai?
Shanky: Abey ghonchu, hindi ka shabdkosh khol liya kar kabhi, authentic word hai.
(Rahul is still scratching his head)
Sumit (rolling chair to Center Right): Shanky, itne bhaari words mat use kar, usse samajh nahi aate, (turning to Rahul) dude, vo keh raha hai ki vo confused hai ki kya kare! Shanky, tu ye to bta ki tujhe hua kya?
Shanky (showing disappointment with ‘shucks’): Kya btaun yaar, jab se shaadi hui hai, meri pyaari preeto ne Anarkali ko chodd ke Kali ka roop dharan kar liya hai. Life jhand ho gayi hai…
Rahul: Accha, teri bhi yehi halat hai?
Sumit: Yaar sabki yehi halat hoti hai, ismein naya kya hai?
Shanky: Naya hai yaar! Pehle to main preeto ko compliment karta tha, to has ke kehti thi, ki tum to bade romantic ho!
Sumit: Aur ab?
Shanky: Yaar ab agar usse kehta hun ki sabji acchi bani hai, to usse sunta hai ki sabji KACCHI bani hai! Bekar mein har subah jagdha ho jaata hai.
Rahul: Yaar, ye to mere saath bhi bda hota hai, tang ho gaya hun!
Sumit: Yaar same here. Life ne bda hi ajeeb mod liya hai, Socha tha shaadi kar ke life mein shaanti aegi.
Shanky: Dude shaanti to aayi, par sukuun waali nahi, DD ki Mandira Bedi waali Shanti, aur uske rehte kisi ke life mein shaanti nahi ho sakti! Continue reading

Childhood

In a sea of faces
walks a child,
his mind swimming
in a sea of books.
He seems lost
in the reverie
that some call the Schoolyard.

He looks at the children,
smiling, playing, happy.
He is distant,
but not angry or sad,
just different.
There is a moment,
a flicker in his eyes
and out comes the pen,
to write words,
nay, observations,
into his notebook.

He sits in the sidelines,
toiling as hard as
the basketball players,
on rhyming his words.
Sometimes two lines
do not rhyme
and the world seems
like a dark, filthy place.
But then the light
of imagination shines
and the words come rushing.

He dares, he dreams,
he imagines, he infers,
he observes, he opines.
He holds his rhymes dear,
Till one day he will grow up
And grow out of the rhymes
With dulled imagination
and a weary soul
drifting in a sea of adulthood.

But not today!
Today he writes,
today he cherishes,
his energetic soul.
Today is not for worrying.
Today is for the now.
Today is for
Thinking, Dreaming, Hoping.