DHAAKAD YUG KE KUCH DHAAKAD YUVTIYAAN... BY ALI PETER JOHN

I have just returned to my good and not so old place on Yaari Road And within ten minutes I have come to know that there are no yaars or yaari on yaari road I knew the worm called covid was changing the face of humanity and hiding faces behind colorful mask was not going to help in changing the face of humanity - Ali Peter John

Friends who I had known were now looking at me as if I was an unwelcome militant from some other planet, I kept looking for all those places where I used to sit alone with a cutting chai on the table and dreaming dreams and making plans to change the world, an effort I have failed in time and again, but have not given up, I see all my favorite walls and bus stops smeared and sullied with dirty and sexy slogans and wonder what my world has come to.

There is a building called ‘Sagar Sameer' where, Kamal Amrohi used to live in his last days and it now looks as if no one has lived there for 100's of years, even though there are signs of people still living there.

The old bungalow of Sahir Ludhianavi has been razed to the ground and the foundation is being laid for a monstrosity of a building without a soul to come up, and I can see Sahir sahab standing in the midst of the sea and crying,“jalla do jalla do yeh duniya, mere saamne se hatha do yeh duniya, yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaaye toh kya hai??"

The bungalow called ‘ Captain's Bungalow' where the mighty Amitabh Bachchan had once told me a lie about his not joining politics and had not only joined politics, but had flown to Allahabad to file his nomination.

The only things faithful to me were the sea, trees and the sand on the beach I came back looking for the grocery shop of my friend Virji Devji and I was shocked to see that where his shop was, there was now a modern cafe where boys and girls came, sat and ordered coffee which was rs 220 a cup, it was an amount my mother used to spend on tea and coffee for a month.

A girl who still looks like a girl came and sat next to the chair where I was sitting She had worn tattered jeans and a skimpy top and it looks as if she had not washed her hair for several days.

She ordered her coffee with a click of her thumb and fingers and then put both her legs on the chair next to her and took out a packet of ciggerates from her bag and before the coffee could come, she had smoked four ciggerates and had discussed the future of Shah Rukh Khan, Deepika Padukone and Katrina Kaif who she said she was sure was pregnant

I felt as I had seen that girl lost in the smoke of the ciggerates somewhere I looked at her closely and found out that she was wearing the earrings of her mother, Sunita and I knew that she was Sunita's daughter who had grown up in just three years and had changed, literally like hell.

Was this the same Riddi Rawat who I used to see going to the St Louis convent school every morning and coming back every evening? What had changed Riddi Rawat so much? What had happened to all the love and care Riddi's mother had showered on her since her birth?

What had happened to all the discipline and the punishment Riddi's father, a call center worker, gave her whenever she went wrong? And had happened to all the prayers Riddi and her family prayed for a happy future every evening? And what the hell had happened to my world?