Life in Riddles
I remember those days when I used to go to the outskirts of the city for picnics, with my cousins, uncle and aunt. All stuffed into one car with baskets full of edibles snugly stuck in between me and my cousin, in the middle of the back seat. It usually used to be a long musical journey, filled with fun. Back then the air felt fresh unlike today and the road sides were still lined with 100–200 year old humongous eucalyptus and banyan trees, that showered leaves on the road with every blow of the breeze. We used to try catching the falling leaves. Even if we failed, the wind would brush our hands, appreciating our little efforts. Our imagination ran wild, we imagined that the swinging trees were happy seeing us and were waving at us with excitement.
When we arrived at our destination, which was a village in the middle of farmlands, we were greeted by the villagers. It was the warmest welcome, that I've ever experienced till date. It was around 5:00pm and the sun was about to set. The light was so perfect that it covered the whole field filled with ready for harvest mustard, with a golden hue. Soon a blanket of navy blue studded with twinkling stars was over us. You could clearly see hundreds of starts, bright and beautiful. That night, during dinner for our entertainment a special quiz was organized, where one person asked some confusing question and ended them with “batao kya” (which is Hindi for what is it?). It was really interesting, entertaining and a lot of fun. I later came to know that this form of questions are called riddles. I was very intrigued.
12 years later, few days back while I was sipping coffee, I was discussing with my mom, about riddles, how entertaining they are and how this art form is being forgotten, when our house help riddled us this:
Me mara tere liye, Tu na mar mere liye,
Me khada yahan tere liye, Tu mar raha mere liye
Which in English is:
I died for you, you please don’t die for me,
I’m waiting here for you, You are dying for me.
(Answer to this riddle is a worm hanging on a hook as a bait for the fish).
It’s so amazing to listen to such riddles, he told me that people in the village still use riddles as a form of entertainment and at the same time with digitization of few villages this art and the art of Dastangoi is slowly dying, which is really sad.
But to my surprise there are still few people who are keeping these art form alive. I came across one such personality during a music fest, his name is Ankit Chadha, known for his love for storytelling and Dastangoi, he truly engages and mesmerizes his audience. Recently while surfing on the net I came across his new book, Amir Khusrau The Man in Riddles.
The title and the cover of the book aroused curiosity within me, but I was a bit skeptical before buying it. If I should buy the book or not, it’s for kids, will I enjoy it or will it disappoint me ? Were some questions that created havoc in my mind. It took me a while to shut these recurring thoughts and I finally ordered the book. After going through few pages, I fell in love with it. Not only it has quality stuff but the feel and the illustrations are so good that it qualified to become one of my favorite. Most importantly, It made me feel what I felt 12 years back. Same old memory came to life after reading this book. The book is based on Amir Khuseau’s work and life. Though it is for kids, I can assure everyone who love the works of Amir Khuserau and want to enjoy reading something new should definitely give it a try.
A riddle from the book (also my favorite)
Saamne aaye kar de do
Its victims are neither scarred nor slain
Maara jaaye na zakhmi ho
Yet each one is split in twain
Arath tu iska boojhega
I you seek to riddle me this
Munh dekho toh soojhega
Facing it won’t be amiss
Answer: Aaina, Mirror
Thanks for reading…
