Writer's Clan

पर भारत वहीँ का वहीँ है

आज़ादी के सत्तर वर्षों बाद,
तिरंगा आज भी हर छत पर गर्व से लहरा रहा है।
अपने व्यस्त जीवन से एक दिन निकाल,
हर भारतवासी शहीदों को याद कर,
भारतमाता को शीश नवा रहा है।
कितना वक़्त गुज़र गया,
कितनी सत्ताएँ पलट गयीं,
पर उन्नीस सौ सैंतालिस से दो हज़ार सत्रह तक,
कुछ तो बदलाव आये ही होंगे न?
आज 15 अगस्त केवल स्वन्त्रता दिवस नहीं रह गया है।
कुछ के लिए यह एक छुट्टी का दिन है, national holiday.
तो कुछ के लिए झंडे बेच एक वक़्त रोटी खाने का ज़रिया।
कोई मोर्चा निकाल देशभक्ति की आड़ में अपना ही उल्लू सीधा कर रहा है,
तो कोई महज़ एक दिन के लिए उन वीर जवानों को श्रद्धांजलि दे रहा है
जिनके परिवार वालों को पहले न जाने कितनी बार ही दुत्कारा।
सोमवार को छुट्टी कर, कितने ही short trip पर निकल गए,
जो बचे कुछ देश की हालत से बेख़बर, गलियों के कोने में नशे से धुत हैं पड़े।
क्या करें ज़नाब!
देश अब modern हो गया है,
लोग busy हो गए हैं।
अब वो देश पर मर मिटने का जुनून
पागलपन कहलाता है।
पुरुषों के समान हक़ माँगती हर औरत
Feminist कहलाती है।
वो जो देर रात काम कर घर आती है न,
उसे तो क्या क्या बुलाते हैं, अब कैसे बताऊँ?
चीन सीमा लांघ कितना ही आतंक क्यों न फैला ले,
शाहरुख़ की नयी फ़िल्म ने 100 करोड़ कमाया या नहीं, युवा पीढ़ी को तो इसकी पड़ी है।
हाँ बस इतना सा ही बदला है भारत,
बाक़ी तो सब आज भी वैसा ही है।
एक टुकड़े ज़मीन पर सत्तर साल पहले भी लड़ रहे थे,
आज भी लड़ रहे हैं।
ये मेरा, वो तेरा की जंग में जवान तब भी मर रहे थे,
देश, नदी, पहाड़, सब की ख़ातिर आज भी शहीद हो रहे हैं।
हरा, केसरिया, हर रंग की राजनीति पहले भी पुरज़ोर चलती थी,
गाय, बकरी, मुर्गी तक तो आज बस इसके छींटे आ गए हैं।
हाँ, भारत वहीँ का वहीँ है,
बस अंदाज़ नए से हैं।
धुंधली पड़ती कुछ आँखों ने एक स्वतन्त्र जमीं का ख़्वाब देखा था,
छोड़ गए वो हमारे हाथों में बागडोर
कि हम एक नए दीये से नवीन उजाला लाएंगे।
पर हमने तो केवल पुराने को ही recycle किया,
संविधान हो या समस्याएं, किसी को भी सरल नहीं किया।
किसान तो आज भी मर रहा है,
औरतें अब भी रो रही हैं,
गरीब आज भी भूखा है,
अमीर आज भी बेचैन है।
वक़्त तो लम्बा गुज़र गया,
पर भारत वहीँ का वहीँ है।
पर भारत वहीँ का वहीँ है।।

Writer's Clan

Riverdale Review

To anyone who has read the Archie comics (even one book), the title should be enough to get you interested. If not, then here you go!

Riverdale is a CW original series which, to be precise, is a deeper and darker version of the Archie comics. It is also available on Netflix as soon as the Episode is aired on Television.


The storyline is alluring and thrilling, and personally, I, myself, being an Archie comic fan wasn’t disappointed with this series a bit. The show has an amazing cast which adds on to the thrilling mystery and murder. This series absorbs you into itself, you will not regret a second that you put in this series and while everyone has their own perspective, for me it is a worth watching series and since it’s available on Netflix, you are allowed to binge watch! Which is something this series is probably meant for. The characters, the storyline, and the thrill will keep you on the edge of your seats and make you fall in love with it and as for the characters. The story doesn’t focus on only one character and its story, instead, it tells the story of each and every character. Everyone in the series has their own story which gives every character equal weight. The first season focuses on the mysterious murder of the son of a very well known businessman, Jason Blossom and when Archie and his friends engage in solving the murder of a fellow schoolmate, they simultaneously keep finding out their own family’s connection with the incidents and various hidden secrets and even though you find out the mystery of the murder by the end the first series. The mysteries that unfold with it will keep you excited for the second season. So if you were considering watching it, go right ahead!

Writer's Clan


Sometimes I wonder why my words look like that lunar eclipse, shadowing the moon which holds in itself the dark secrets of the universe. My words were supposed to be art. They were supposed to make me and everyone else feel something but apparently, they are too gloomy, like the grief that is too cauterized to be touched and too raw to be spoken of.
I have been fascinated about the breaking of the night into little glow sticks for a long time, I have been an audience to the horror show of tragedies and comedies taking place simultaneously and I have written about them endlessly.
And today when the universe has reversed its pace; when the friable moon has made its place between the life and the star and turned the reflections upon us red… I wonder if we will survive this loop, the playlist of the most depressing songs which is never-ending, the comedy that occurs just to clear the way for another tragedy, the momentary happiness they give us.
…and about art, what will be its significance if destruction and draining emotions are considered to be tragically artistic? If that is art then I want none of it. The way you describe it can be art but somebody free falling into an abyss cannot be. If that’s art, I reject being an artist.
Today, we are told again not to look up at the sky, not because of malevolence or corrosion but just because they want it these ways, they want us to fantasize tragedies because someday, giving up on ourselves will never feel easier! A little effort is all it takes.
//of eclipses that cast a lot more than a shadow…
-Aishwarya Diwakar

Writer's Clan

The story of the Old

Picture courtesy: Google

She seems flustered, scared and drenched in misery, coughing, constantly rubbing her wrinkled moist eyes with her chunni. She was very old and looked weak. Then the ticket checker asked her, “Kaha jaana hai Amma?” (Where do you want to go Amma?). She looked up at him, with those small eyes, too bewildered to answer, and then replied in her croaked voice, “Nhi pata beta. Kahin bhi chale jaenge.” (I don’t know son. I’ll go anywhere.) And then I saw tears gently flowing down her rough cheeks, caressing her as if they were the only ones who understood her misery and had promised to stay with her until the end of her journey.
The bus screeched and came to halt and I hurried down to reach my stop, already getting late for school. The bus drove away with that old woman in it
When my friend narrated me this incident on that day, I was anxious about that old lady’s fate. Barrages of questions were knocking at my mind. Why was she so miserable? Did her family abandon her? Where did she go? Did somebody help her? Or not? I was in 5th standard then but news about adults abusing their old parents and throwing them out of their house. It has been 10 years and I still reminisce her narration vividly. Like I am seeing those tears falling, hearing her cracked voice and the scared look in her dim eyes.
With the advancement in our way of living, and the era of the young and the active, we are deserting the fragile, old people who form a large part of our population. The world is slowly moving towards grey population, and the youth is noticing this change with little care and concern.
A report from a HelpAge India showed that almost 15 million elderly Indians live all alone. Out of 10 elderly couples, 6 are forced out of their homes by their children. They are abused physically, verbally and psychologically. The report says that about 40% senior citizens are maltreated, but very few cases are brought to light. Bangalore and Nagpur are the two cities where cases of abusing the elderly are high, while Delhi has reported the least. However, the numbers are increasing drastically annually. Only yesterday, I read the news of a 70-year-old woman, beaten callously with an iron rod by her son, because the mother was trying to sell half of her land to get money for her living after being denied food by her four sons.
The incessant exploitation, abandonment and negligence by their own children force them to resort to old age homes. The condition of all the old age homes isn’t promising and good. Those run by the government lack resources and facilities. The reason the elders are tormented and abused is their economic and emotional dependency on their family. Old people crave for love, and they bear the torments out of their attachments towards their grandchildren. There were 4% of the elders who were abused for almost 15 years!

People usually turn a blind eye towards senior citizens’ grievances. Greed swallows people to an extent that they loot their own fragile parents of the love, care and attention. They forget too easily that they were brought up strong and adept by those very hands which now want their support.
Are the youths this weak that they can’t even support their own parents!? Too weak to earn themselves instead of plundering their old parent’s share?! What goes around, comes around. If the children watch their parents tormenting, abusing and throwing their own old parents out of their homes- then, BEWARE! The replay of all your actions might be presented before you when you will be old.
Why do we forget their sacrifices, love, pain and hard work which has made us strong and brought us smiles! They helped us stand, walk, run, learn and millions of things we might have never noticed. Is it too difficult for you to provide them with their share of food, shelter, love and the smiles they deserve? Are atrocities and abuses the answers to them for giving us life? Can you only offer them a cascade of tears and shattered hopes – as their only companions?
Talk to them, they need company. Listen to their history and their fun stories. Eat with them. Take them out to parks. They don’t ask much of you. Is it a gargantuan task to spend little of your time with them? Your attention, care and love are enough to stretch their lips into a vibrant smile. Their young life had toiled and weathered to build our little life- strong, happy and beautiful. Now let them live and enjoy in their leisure time. It’s not much of a burden to be a companion.