Another masterpiece. Heard this today on a road trip across the countryside. Though I had heard and used the first line of this nazm so many times in the past, it was only today that I finally got a chance to hear it completely.
The beauty of this one is that it comes to me at a time when the lyrics are almost so relevant. Well, I could say that about any urdu piece but this one touched my heart today.
बात निकलेगी तो फिर दूर तलक जाएगी ...
लोग बेवजह उदासी का सबब पूछेंगे,
ये भी पूछेंगे कि तुम इतनी परेशां क्यूं हो ...
उगलियां उठेंगी सूखे हुए बालों की तरफ़,
इक नज़र देखेंगे गुज़रे हुए सालों की तरफ़ ...
चूड़ियों पर भी कई तन्ज़ किये जायेंगे,
कांपते हाथों पे भी फिक़रे कसे जायेंगे ...
लोग ज़ालिम हैं हर इक बात का ताना देंगे,
बातों बातों मे मेरा ज़िक्र भी ले आयेंगे ...
उनकी बातों का ज़रा सा भी असर मत लेना,
वर्ना चेहरे के तासुर से समझ जायेंगे,
चाहे कुछ भी हो सवालात न करना उनसे,
मेरे बारे में कोई बात न करना उनसे ...
बात निकलेगी तो फिर दूर तलक जाएगी ...
-कफ़ील आज़र
Glossary
तलक : Till
सबब : Cause
तन्ज़ : Taunt
फ़िकरे : Jibes
तासुर : Expression
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Monday, March 30, 2009
Monday, April 28, 2008
Ek aawaaz si toh tumko aayi hi hogi ...
माना कि गूँज रहे थे सन्नाटे,
माना चीख रही थी खामोशियाँ,
जब आह भरी थी हम ने, तब न सही ...
पर जब दिल चटखा था, तब एक आवाज़ सी तो तुमको आयी ही होगी।
माना कि उदास थी बहार,
माना खामोश था यह चहचहाता आँगन,
सूनी गलियों मे छुप रहे घुप्प अँधेरे में ही सही ...
मेरी एकाकी ने अपनी एक झलक तुमको चुपके से दिखलाई ही होगी।
माना चुप्पी लगी थी इस ओर भी उस ओर भी,
माना भरोसे की किल्लत थी इस ओर भी उस ओर भी,
यह भी मान लिया दोनों ही का अहम बड़ा था, लेकिन ...
इन दूरियों ने तुमको एक दीदार की गुहार तो लगायी ही होगी।
माना कि सपना टूट गया,
माना कि रिश्ता छूट गया,
पर यह तो आज भी कबूल नहीं कि थे तुम बेवफा ...
हमारी ही वफा ने तुमको शायद कोई कमी जतलायी होगी।
माना चीख रही थी खामोशियाँ,
जब आह भरी थी हम ने, तब न सही ...
पर जब दिल चटखा था, तब एक आवाज़ सी तो तुमको आयी ही होगी।
माना कि उदास थी बहार,
माना खामोश था यह चहचहाता आँगन,
सूनी गलियों मे छुप रहे घुप्प अँधेरे में ही सही ...
मेरी एकाकी ने अपनी एक झलक तुमको चुपके से दिखलाई ही होगी।
माना चुप्पी लगी थी इस ओर भी उस ओर भी,
माना भरोसे की किल्लत थी इस ओर भी उस ओर भी,
यह भी मान लिया दोनों ही का अहम बड़ा था, लेकिन ...
इन दूरियों ने तुमको एक दीदार की गुहार तो लगायी ही होगी।
माना कि सपना टूट गया,
माना कि रिश्ता छूट गया,
पर यह तो आज भी कबूल नहीं कि थे तुम बेवफा ...
हमारी ही वफा ने तुमको शायद कोई कमी जतलायी होगी।
Saturday, March 29, 2008
The Perfect Analysis
I had once said about Vinod Khare "...one who would give me the coldest yet the brutally sanest advice on any issue", and there he goes again! This is a short conversation I had with him on our reunion at Alfaaz, IIT Kanpur's Literary Festival, which he is gracing as a Judge!!! Beats me how he manages to do that (too!), but however, that is not the point. Speaking of which, here is the point of the pointless conversation, (definitely not the first and surely not the last) that we had today on our time honoured practice of pilgrimage to "THE MT" for chai, samosa and whatnot.
The topic of the chat is the usual, "What is Saumya Jain supposed to be doing", hehe, something in which I have earned a D.Phil., needless to mention that all arguments expounded in which are as useless as the debate of the status of the planet Pluto in the Solar System. so, here goes ...
Saumya (talking about a day in recent forgotten history on which he had a bath): See, it is about perfection, about quality. It is about giving your best in everything you do. When I take a bath, I get an oil massage, a pedicure, a nice little sunbath and then I stand under the shower for ages. That, my friend is the perfect way to cleanse the body and the mind.
Vinod: Uh-huh.
Saumya: Yeah, nothing, absolutely nothing beats the feeling of your legs being soaked in warm water, sitting in the afternoon sun, and a relaxing massage with oil.
Vinod: Uhm! You mean "Getting a massage"? Are you employing people to do that? Really?
Saumya: Ah! No, no no. I mean I am rubbing oil in my hair myself, but, isn't the feeling just heavenly?
Vinod (pauses, thinks and then BANG!): Tumhe pata hai, tumko na Raja hona chahiye. Ekdum tumhaare laayak job hai! [You know what? You should be a king. Its a job just made for you!]
Saumya (Obviously surprised at the skewed parallel drawn between a king and a job desc): Hmm?
Vinod (Coldly, as though working out a case study. You just HAVE TO give it to this guy, he can remain SO indifferent even when he is speaking of such *disdainful* wisdom!) : Haan, na tum kuchh kaam karte ho, na kuchh karna chahte ho, bas pade rehte ho, aish karte rehte ho, aalsi bhi ho, ek hi cheez aati hai, bak bak karna aur morals baantna. Yehi sab toh karna hota hai. [Yes, its obvious. You don't do anything, neither do you want to. You just hang around all day long, making the most of your leisure-time, and you are slothful too. If you are good at something, it is talking crap and moralising. This is all that one requires to be a king.] You should have been born in the medieval times. You'd have done well.
Saumya (the truth hitting him at last): Yeah, I always thought that I was a bit old fashioned for this world. Too sad I missed the window. Waise, meri kundali mein shaayad Raj-yog likha hai. [Astrologically speaking, my fortune favours me to become one of the ruling class] Hehe. Kahan apply karoon? [Where do I sign up for this?]
Vinod (Smiling. Oh thank you holy mother of God): Hehe, chal chal, MT chal, fir bataataa hoon... [Hehe, walk on along, let me explain...]
And so we met again, probably for the last time on IITK soil. Probably for the last time to discuss this dreaded issue which I myself have been taking a bit too lightly (this blog-post notwithstanding). Hopefully though, I see some light at the end of this tunnel.
So anyhow, Ladies and Gentlemen, that, was Vinod Khare, and this, is me, signing off with this little poem, which will make sense to few. At least it does to me.
The topic of the chat is the usual, "What is Saumya Jain supposed to be doing", hehe, something in which I have earned a D.Phil., needless to mention that all arguments expounded in which are as useless as the debate of the status of the planet Pluto in the Solar System. so, here goes ...
Saumya (talking about a day in recent forgotten history on which he had a bath): See, it is about perfection, about quality. It is about giving your best in everything you do. When I take a bath, I get an oil massage, a pedicure, a nice little sunbath and then I stand under the shower for ages. That, my friend is the perfect way to cleanse the body and the mind.
Vinod: Uh-huh.
Saumya: Yeah, nothing, absolutely nothing beats the feeling of your legs being soaked in warm water, sitting in the afternoon sun, and a relaxing massage with oil.
Vinod: Uhm! You mean "Getting a massage"? Are you employing people to do that? Really?
Saumya: Ah! No, no no. I mean I am rubbing oil in my hair myself, but, isn't the feeling just heavenly?
Vinod (pauses, thinks and then BANG!): Tumhe pata hai, tumko na Raja hona chahiye. Ekdum tumhaare laayak job hai! [You know what? You should be a king. Its a job just made for you!]
Saumya (Obviously surprised at the skewed parallel drawn between a king and a job desc): Hmm?
Vinod (Coldly, as though working out a case study. You just HAVE TO give it to this guy, he can remain SO indifferent even when he is speaking of such *disdainful* wisdom!) : Haan, na tum kuchh kaam karte ho, na kuchh karna chahte ho, bas pade rehte ho, aish karte rehte ho, aalsi bhi ho, ek hi cheez aati hai, bak bak karna aur morals baantna. Yehi sab toh karna hota hai. [Yes, its obvious. You don't do anything, neither do you want to. You just hang around all day long, making the most of your leisure-time, and you are slothful too. If you are good at something, it is talking crap and moralising. This is all that one requires to be a king.] You should have been born in the medieval times. You'd have done well.
Saumya (the truth hitting him at last): Yeah, I always thought that I was a bit old fashioned for this world. Too sad I missed the window. Waise, meri kundali mein shaayad Raj-yog likha hai. [Astrologically speaking, my fortune favours me to become one of the ruling class] Hehe. Kahan apply karoon? [Where do I sign up for this?]
Vinod (Smiling. Oh thank you holy mother of God): Hehe, chal chal, MT chal, fir bataataa hoon... [Hehe, walk on along, let me explain...]
And so we met again, probably for the last time on IITK soil. Probably for the last time to discuss this dreaded issue which I myself have been taking a bit too lightly (this blog-post notwithstanding). Hopefully though, I see some light at the end of this tunnel.
So anyhow, Ladies and Gentlemen, that, was Vinod Khare, and this, is me, signing off with this little poem, which will make sense to few. At least it does to me.
Adieu, adieu, adieu!
We'll miss you, Radley Boo,
You've been wronged,
and been miscast;
But all of that,
is in the Past.
Go on ahead, make a life,
No more worries, no more strife.
Speak out and you'll be heard,
No longer the caged mockingbird.
Go! Do the thing you wanna do,
Adieu, Boo, Adieu!
We'll miss you, Radley Boo,
You've been wronged,
and been miscast;
But all of that,
is in the Past.
Go on ahead, make a life,
No more worries, no more strife.
Speak out and you'll be heard,
No longer the caged mockingbird.
Go! Do the thing you wanna do,
Adieu, Boo, Adieu!
Sunday, December 30, 2007
If you can't return it, just throw it back ...
Give me back my love, my love.
If you can’t return it, just throw it back
But just don’t keep it with you like that
It’s all that I had that I gave to you
But maybe the meaning did not come through
So now that you don’t need it, just pass it back
It's not meant for a public view
So it wouldn’t suit your showcase
or your mantle-rack
Nor akin a library book overdue
That’s tossed in a corner untold
And lost under heaps
And heaps of memories old.
It is worth a bit more than that
As much as you may not realise
It is worth a man’s dreams, joys, sorrows,
Everything he is at
It is worth a man’s life.
I am without, and so I am not
‘coz I need what you’ve got
So just pass me back my love, my love
You can’t return it, so just throw it back.
But give me back my love, my love
That is one thing I need, to be.
If you can’t return it, just throw it back
But just don’t keep it with you like that
It’s all that I had that I gave to you
But maybe the meaning did not come through
So now that you don’t need it, just pass it back
It's not meant for a public view
So it wouldn’t suit your showcase
or your mantle-rack
Nor akin a library book overdue
That’s tossed in a corner untold
And lost under heaps
And heaps of memories old.
It is worth a bit more than that
As much as you may not realise
It is worth a man’s dreams, joys, sorrows,
Everything he is at
It is worth a man’s life.
I am without, and so I am not
‘coz I need what you’ve got
So just pass me back my love, my love
You can’t return it, so just throw it back.
But give me back my love, my love
That is one thing I need, to be.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Was it you?
Was it you or was I dreaming?
***
the late phone call at night
the stupid idiotic worthless fight
the million lines of online chat
talking about anything, everything, this n that
and then came the time, the first meeting
seeing you was enough, the rest was fleeting
the one when i became deaf and dumb
you saw me trembling, actually i was numb!
the bangles and the sarees, all that too,
was i dreaming or was it really you?
***
it wasn't you, now i have known
everything was a dream, all of my own
it was a picture that i had drawn
it was a dream that is now gone
it was a silly heart and a stupid man
doing and thinking only what stupid things can
its not your fault, you never knew
heh 'cause for me "you" were not you
from the outside, in the mold you fitted right in
but the silly me forgot to look within
you weren't her, umm maybe close
but just not her, the one that i chose
that doesnt send the real you any afar
you're a wonderful girl just as you are
but i'm a simple man and thus i opine
couldn't want something that was never mine
it wasn't you, i was dreaming all along
and then i heard the Pope singing his song
"How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind;
Each prayer accepted and each wish resigned"
the reverie is over, the dream is gone
but just don't yet talk about moving on.
***
the late phone call at night
the stupid idiotic worthless fight
the million lines of online chat
talking about anything, everything, this n that
and then came the time, the first meeting
seeing you was enough, the rest was fleeting
the one when i became deaf and dumb
you saw me trembling, actually i was numb!
the bangles and the sarees, all that too,
was i dreaming or was it really you?
***
it wasn't you, now i have known
everything was a dream, all of my own
it was a picture that i had drawn
it was a dream that is now gone
it was a silly heart and a stupid man
doing and thinking only what stupid things can
its not your fault, you never knew
heh 'cause for me "you" were not you
from the outside, in the mold you fitted right in
but the silly me forgot to look within
you weren't her, umm maybe close
but just not her, the one that i chose
that doesnt send the real you any afar
you're a wonderful girl just as you are
but i'm a simple man and thus i opine
couldn't want something that was never mine
it wasn't you, i was dreaming all along
and then i heard the Pope singing his song
"How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind;
Each prayer accepted and each wish resigned"
the reverie is over, the dream is gone
but just don't yet talk about moving on.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Commemorating today.
Impulsive writing can bring forth a lot of things. Here's some of it.
दुनिया से जब नाराज़ होने क बहाना ना रहा
आजकल खुद ही से गोया परेशान हूँ मैं
जिसके आँसूओं का सैलाब भी सूख गया हो
ऐसा ही एक खंडहर-ओ-वीरान हूँ मैं
खुद पर भी अब किस हद तक तरस करूँगा
अपने ही ग़मों की जीती जागती खान हूँ मैं
जिस शहर में चलती थी कसमें मेरे ईमान की
उसी शहर में आजकल बदनाम हूँ मैं
ज़िन्दगी से हारे हुए बहुत देखे होंगे तुमने
मौत से हारा हुआ पहला इंसान हूँ मैं
जिन कूचों से निकला था काफिला मेरे जश्न का
उन्हीं गलियों में अब अंजान हूँ मैं
मगर इस बात का गुमान आज भी है ...
मिटाने से भी जो नहीं छूटेगा तुम्हारे दामन से
ऐसा ही एक बेगैरत निशान हूँ मैं
दुनिया से जब नाराज़ होने क बहाना ना रहा
आजकल खुद ही से गोया परेशान हूँ मैं
जिसके आँसूओं का सैलाब भी सूख गया हो
ऐसा ही एक खंडहर-ओ-वीरान हूँ मैं
खुद पर भी अब किस हद तक तरस करूँगा
अपने ही ग़मों की जीती जागती खान हूँ मैं
जिस शहर में चलती थी कसमें मेरे ईमान की
उसी शहर में आजकल बदनाम हूँ मैं
ज़िन्दगी से हारे हुए बहुत देखे होंगे तुमने
मौत से हारा हुआ पहला इंसान हूँ मैं
जिन कूचों से निकला था काफिला मेरे जश्न का
उन्हीं गलियों में अब अंजान हूँ मैं
मगर इस बात का गुमान आज भी है ...
मिटाने से भी जो नहीं छूटेगा तुम्हारे दामन से
ऐसा ही एक बेगैरत निशान हूँ मैं
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Kabhi Kabhi
This is the original version of the sher by Sahir Ludhiyanvi that inspired the beautiful rendition of one of the most heart rending verses I have heard lately.
(Note : A self-attempted glossary follows for words in blue)
Shadaab : Taaza
Tiragi : Andhera
Zeest : Zindagi
Shuaaon : Roshni
Begaana-ilm : Jaankar bhi Anjaana bhi
Jamaal : Husn
Raynaaiyon : Adaaon
Gadaz : Mulayam
Talkhiyaan : Kadwi baatein
Halaawat : Chaen
Hayaat : Zindagi
Barehna-Sar : ...
Justajoo : Longing
Rahguzaron : Raaste
Muhib Saaye : Bhayawah Parchhaiyaan
Hayaat-o-maut ke Pur-haul kharzaron se : Zindagi aur Maut ke dardnaak kaanton se
Khalon : Khaalipan
Humnafas : Dost
By the way ... Here's the much simpler Hindi Version
And while I am at it, if you would listen to the song, here's the best stanza
(Note : A self-attempted glossary follows for words in blue)
Kabhi Kabhi
Kabhi Kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai
ke zindagi teri zulfon ki narm chhaon mein
guzarne pati to shadaab ho bhi sakti thi
ye tiragi jo mere zeest ka muqaddar hai
teri nazar ki shuaaon mein kho bhi sakti thi
ajab na tha ke main begaana-ilm hokar
tere jamaal ki raynaaiyon mein kho rehta
tera gadaz badan teri neem baaz aankhein
inheen haseen fizaaon mein main ho rehta
pukarteen mujhe jab talkhiyaan zamaane ki
tere labon se halaawat ke ghoont pee leta
hayaat cheekhti phirti barehna-sar aur main
ghaneri zulfon ke saaye mein chup ke jee leta
magar yeh ho na saka...
magar yeh ho na saka aur ab yeh aalam hai
ke tu nahin tera gham teri justajoo bhi nahin
guzar rahi hai kuch iss tarah zindagi jaise
ise kisi ke sahare ki aarzoo bhi nahin
zamaane bhar ke dukhon ko laga chuka hoon gale
guzar raha hoon kuch anjani rahguzaron se
muhib saaye meri simat bhar aate hain
hayat-o-maut ke pur-haul kharzaron se
na koi raah na manzil na roshni ka suragh
bhatak rahi hai khalon mein zindagi meri
inheen khalon mein rah jaaonga kabhi kho kar
main jaanta hoon meri humnafas magar yunhi
kabhi kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai ...
Kabhi Kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai
ke zindagi teri zulfon ki narm chhaon mein
guzarne pati to shadaab ho bhi sakti thi
ye tiragi jo mere zeest ka muqaddar hai
teri nazar ki shuaaon mein kho bhi sakti thi
ajab na tha ke main begaana-ilm hokar
tere jamaal ki raynaaiyon mein kho rehta
tera gadaz badan teri neem baaz aankhein
inheen haseen fizaaon mein main ho rehta
pukarteen mujhe jab talkhiyaan zamaane ki
tere labon se halaawat ke ghoont pee leta
hayaat cheekhti phirti barehna-sar aur main
ghaneri zulfon ke saaye mein chup ke jee leta
magar yeh ho na saka...
magar yeh ho na saka aur ab yeh aalam hai
ke tu nahin tera gham teri justajoo bhi nahin
guzar rahi hai kuch iss tarah zindagi jaise
ise kisi ke sahare ki aarzoo bhi nahin
zamaane bhar ke dukhon ko laga chuka hoon gale
guzar raha hoon kuch anjani rahguzaron se
muhib saaye meri simat bhar aate hain
hayat-o-maut ke pur-haul kharzaron se
na koi raah na manzil na roshni ka suragh
bhatak rahi hai khalon mein zindagi meri
inheen khalon mein rah jaaonga kabhi kho kar
main jaanta hoon meri humnafas magar yunhi
kabhi kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai ...
Shadaab : Taaza
Tiragi : Andhera
Zeest : Zindagi
Shuaaon : Roshni
Begaana-ilm : Jaankar bhi Anjaana bhi
Jamaal : Husn
Raynaaiyon : Adaaon
Gadaz : Mulayam
Talkhiyaan : Kadwi baatein
Halaawat : Chaen
Hayaat : Zindagi
Barehna-Sar : ...
Justajoo : Longing
Rahguzaron : Raaste
Muhib Saaye : Bhayawah Parchhaiyaan
Hayaat-o-maut ke Pur-haul kharzaron se : Zindagi aur Maut ke dardnaak kaanton se
Khalon : Khaalipan
Humnafas : Dost
By the way ... Here's the much simpler Hindi Version
Kabhi kabhi mere dil main khayal aata hai
Ki zindagi teri zulfon ki narm chhaon main guzarne pati
Toh shaadaab ho bhi sakti thi.
Yeh ranj-o-gham ki siyahi jo dil pe chhayi hain
Teri nazar ki shuaon main kho bhi sakti thi.
Magar yeh ho na saka ...
Magar yeh ho na saka aur ab ye aalam hain
Ki tu nahin, tera gham teri justajoo bhi nahin.
Guzar rahi hai kuchh iss tarah zindagi jaise,
Isse kisi ke sahare ki aarzoo hi nahin.
Na koi raah, na manzil, na roshni ka suraag
Bhatak rahin hai andheron main zindagi meri.
Inhi andheron main reh jaoonga kabhi kho kar
Main janta hoon meri hum-nafas, magar yunhi
Kabhi kabhi mere dil main khayal aata hai.
Ki zindagi teri zulfon ki narm chhaon main guzarne pati
Toh shaadaab ho bhi sakti thi.
Yeh ranj-o-gham ki siyahi jo dil pe chhayi hain
Teri nazar ki shuaon main kho bhi sakti thi.
Magar yeh ho na saka ...
Magar yeh ho na saka aur ab ye aalam hain
Ki tu nahin, tera gham teri justajoo bhi nahin.
Guzar rahi hai kuchh iss tarah zindagi jaise,
Isse kisi ke sahare ki aarzoo hi nahin.
Na koi raah, na manzil, na roshni ka suraag
Bhatak rahin hai andheron main zindagi meri.
Inhi andheron main reh jaoonga kabhi kho kar
Main janta hoon meri hum-nafas, magar yunhi
Kabhi kabhi mere dil main khayal aata hai.
And while I am at it, if you would listen to the song, here's the best stanza
Kabhi kabhi mere dil mein khayaal aata hai
Ki jaise tu mujhe chaahegi umr-bhar yun hi
Uthegi meri taraf pyaar ki nazar yun hi
Main jaanta hoon ki tu gair hai, magar yun hi
Kabhi kabhi mere dil mein khayaal aata hai.
Ki jaise tu mujhe chaahegi umr-bhar yun hi
Uthegi meri taraf pyaar ki nazar yun hi
Main jaanta hoon ki tu gair hai, magar yun hi
Kabhi kabhi mere dil mein khayaal aata hai.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Mirza Ghalib, mera Dil-e-Naadan aur असमंजस
This is a very famous ghazal by Ghalib, which (strangely) I stumbled across today. Its a sweet piece, describing very beautifully the असमंजस of a man in love. (Oh yes, I had promised, there wont be any further mush on the blog, but wtf, read this and you'll stop being so picky about my words) Anyhow, I was saying, this one describes the whole situation so perfectly that I couldn't resist putting it on the blog. The actual ghazal has more verses, but I have chosen to present here the ones which I could connect to at some level.
दिल-ए-नादाँ तुझे हुआ क्या है?
आख़िर इस दर्द की दवा क्या है?
हम हैं मुश्ताक़ और वो बेज़ार
या इलाही ये माजरा क्या है।
मैं भी मुँह में ज़बान रखता हूँ,
काश! पूछो कि "मुद्दा क्या है?"
जब कि तुझ बिन नहीं कोई मौजूद
फिर ये हंगामा, ऐ ख़ुदा! क्या है?
हमको उनसे वफ़ा की है उम्मीद
जो नहीं जानते वफ़ा क्या है।
जान तुम पर निसार करता हूँ
मैंने नहीं जाना दुआ क्या है।
Its just so very smooth and satirical, I am almost falling in love with Ghalib, lekin, "humko unse hai wafaa ki ummeed, jo nahin jaante wafa kya hai" Heh! Naah, Mian Ghalib can wait till I finish reading the complete Diwaan-e-Ghalib in Urdu, which will take time (since obviously Ill have to learn to read in Urdu first, ha ha!). I have a copy of the book somewhere, courtesy my dad, who's probably the one who unconsciously got me hooked on to urdu poetry. All that, for laters.
दिल-ए-नादाँ तुझे हुआ क्या है?
आख़िर इस दर्द की दवा क्या है?
हम हैं मुश्ताक़ और वो बेज़ार
या इलाही ये माजरा क्या है।
मैं भी मुँह में ज़बान रखता हूँ,
काश! पूछो कि "मुद्दा क्या है?"
जब कि तुझ बिन नहीं कोई मौजूद
फिर ये हंगामा, ऐ ख़ुदा! क्या है?
हमको उनसे वफ़ा की है उम्मीद
जो नहीं जानते वफ़ा क्या है।
जान तुम पर निसार करता हूँ
मैंने नहीं जाना दुआ क्या है।
Its just so very smooth and satirical, I am almost falling in love with Ghalib, lekin, "humko unse hai wafaa ki ummeed, jo nahin jaante wafa kya hai" Heh! Naah, Mian Ghalib can wait till I finish reading the complete Diwaan-e-Ghalib in Urdu, which will take time (since obviously Ill have to learn to read in Urdu first, ha ha!). I have a copy of the book somewhere, courtesy my dad, who's probably the one who unconsciously got me hooked on to urdu poetry. All that, for laters.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
"Us"
Here's a short piece I just wrote randomly. I don't know in what genre of literature I should basket this one, but here goes ...
Beyond the mazes of time,
Beyond the veil of reality,
Beyond the spaces that be,
There exists an ‘us’
Waiting.
Breathing…
Silently, Patiently, Serenely.
I shall meet ‘us’
Will let you know.
Just keep in touch.
:|
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
and he waits...
There’s a boy in a room.
And a girl in a city.
Living each other’s dreams
Treading their paths. Living life.
When the world sleeps, they talk.
Share their days.
They talk about love.
About happiness. About life.
He loves her. She knows he does.
She likes him.
Doesn’t tell.
And he waits.
And a girl in a city.
Living each other’s dreams
Treading their paths. Living life.
When the world sleeps, they talk.
Share their days.
They talk about love.
About happiness. About life.
He loves her. She knows he does.
She likes him.
Doesn’t tell.
And he waits.
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