Agar kisi ne tumse poocha ki India ka sabse bada colour kaunsa hai, toh shayad tum kahoge…
Hara… kyunki kheton ka rang hai.
Neela… kyunki aasman aur samundar ka rang hai.
Ya phir tirange ke teeno rang.
Lekin jo log Sawan ke mahine mein Haridwar se Delhi, Meerut, Muzaffarnagar, Roorkee, Saharanpur ya Uttar Pradesh ke highways se guzre hain, unke liye jawab shayad sirf ek hoga.
Kesari.
Har saal kuch hafton ke liye India ka ek hissa kesari ho jaata hai.
Na isliye kyunki kisi ne road paint kar di.
Na isliye kyunki kisi festival ka decoration hua.
Balki isliye kyunki lakhon log ek hi rang pehen kar ek hi disha mein chal padte hain.
Door se dekhne par lagta hai jaise road par koi nadi beh rahi ho.
Bas paani ki jagah…
Log chal rahe hote hain.
Kandhon par Kanwar, haathon mein Gangajal, honton par “Bol Bam”, aur aankhon mein bas ek hi manzil—Bhagwan Shiv.
Pehli baar dekhne wale ke liye yeh ek religious procession lag sakta hai.
Lekin agar tum kisi flyover par khade hokar kuch der sirf dekhte raho…
Toh dheere-dheere samajh aata hai ki yeh bheed nahi hai.
Yeh hazaaron alag-alag kahaniyan hain.
Har kesari kapde ke andar ek alag wajah chal rahi hoti hai.
Kisi ne mannat maangi thi.
Kisi ne kisi apne ki sehat ke liye yeh yatra shuru ki.
Koi bachpan se har saal aata hai.
Koi pehli baar Kanwar Yatra ka hissa bana hai.
Kisi ke kandhe par sirf Kanwar nahi…
Saal bhar ki umeedein bhi hoti hain.
Aur sabse ajeeb baat?
Road kisi ko nahi jaanti.
Usse nahi pata kaun doctor hai.
Kaun mazdoor.
Kaun businessman.
Kaun student.
Uske liye sab ek jaise hain.
Sab uske upar chalne wale musafir hain.
Shayad isi liye Kawad Yatra mein pehli baar insaan ka introduction uska profession nahi hota.
Uski pehchaan bas itni hoti hai…
“Yeh bhi Shiv Bhakt hai.”
Highway ke dono taraf duniya bhi badal jaati hai.
Jahan roz petrol pump dikhte the, wahan temporary Bhandara lag jaate hain.
Jahan log sirf chai peene rukte the, wahan ab sharbat, glucose aur paani ke stalls khade ho jaate hain.
School ke playground kuch din ke liye rest camp ban jaate hain.
Gaon ke log apne gharon ke bahar matke rakh dete hain.
Doctors temporary medical camps khol dete hain.
Mechanics apni dukaan der raat tak khuli rakhte hain.
Police sirf traffic control nahi karti…
Woh iss chalti hui duniya ko sambhalti hai.
Aur yeh sab bina kisi invitation ke hota hai.
Jaise poora sheher pehle se jaanta ho…
Mehmaan aa rahe hain.
Is yatra ki sabse khoobsurat baat shayad yeh nahi ki lakhon log chalte hain.
Balki yeh hai ki lakhon logon ke chalne se aur bhi lakhon log apni jagah khade hokar unke saath chalne lagte hain.
Ek chaiwala apni pehli ketli thodi jaldi chadha deta hai.
Ek halwai extra jalebi bana leta hai.
Ek dukaan wala paani ki bottles zyada manga leta hai.
Ek school apna hall raat ke liye khol deta hai.
Ek ghar ke bahar likha hota hai…
“Kanwariyon ka swagat hai.”
Kisi newspaper mein un sabke naam nahi aate.
Kisi documentary mein unke chehre nahi dikhte.
Lekin agar woh log na hon…
Toh yeh safar sirf lamba reh jaaye.
Khoobsurat nahi.
Aur phir baarish shuru hoti hai.
Pehle halki.
Phir tez.
Road geeli ho jaati hai.
Kapde bhaari ho jaate hain.
Kanwar par boondein jamne lagti hain.
Lekin chalna rukta nahi.
Baarish aur kesari rang ka ek purana rishta hai.
Ek aasman se girta hai.
Ek zameen par chal padta hai.
Dono milkar Sawan ko pehchaan dete hain.
Shaam hone lagti hai.
Suraj dheere-dheere badalon ke peeche chala jaata hai.
Highway par headlights jalne lagti hain.
Door tak bas do cheezein dikhai deti hain…
Safed headlights…
Aur unke beech chalta hua kesari samandar.
Us pal samajh aata hai…
Kuch rang deewaron par acche lagte hain.
Kuch kapdon par.
Aur kuch…
Sirf tab khoobsurat lagte hain jab woh chal rahe hote hain.
Kyunki kesari sirf ek colour nahi.
Sawan ke kuch hafton ke liye…
Woh ek chalti hui kahani ban jaata hai.
