Saturday, October 03, 2009

One couplet written long back....

Today I remembered one of my couplets and thought to blog it ..... its better than nothing......

जो हो सुखन तो हो की दिल की बात निकले,
जुबां तक आए बात मेरी उनके मुह से निकले


Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Memories

Life is made up of many things, most prominent of them are the memories. Memories which are good and not so good, some you treasure all your life, some may even sum up your life...

I have written something few days back on these memories here it is......This is a Ghazal (ग़ज़ल)

एक वक़त की परछाई हूँ मै,
एक वक़त से परछाई हूँ मै।
अपने माज़ी से गुज़र रहा हूँ,
अपने फर्दा की परछाई हूँ मै।
शब, पड़ा हुआ अक्स-ए-रोज़ है,
हर एक उजाले की परछाई हूँ मै।
ज़िन्दगी का उजाला हूँ मै,
मौत की परछाई हूँ मै।
इन लम्हों मे, सब्त है साये कई,
हर इक साये की जुदा परछाई हूँ मै।
इन्ही मे कहीं खो गया हूँ "अमित",
इक परछाई मे उलझी परछाई हूँ मै।

Sunday, June 07, 2009

My Trivanis

त्रिवेणी - गुलज़ार जी की इजाद की हुई है. मैंने सोचा कुछ हम भी हाँथ साफ कर देखें. आप जनता जनार्दन है आप ही फैसला करें में कितना सफल हुआ हूँ

१. बड़ी मासूम है ये खामोशियाँ तुम्हारी
जैसे बच्चा कोई ज़िद पकड़ के बैठा हो
कोई कैसे मनाये, जब बड़े बच्चे बन जाये

२. सभी खुदा है, इस - उस आसमां के,
गुफ्तगू भी मुश्किल है आदमी से,
मुद्दत हुई है, खुदा से अपनी लड़ाई है

Sunday, May 31, 2009

A Video Blog

You must have heard the song written by Gulzar Saab "नाम गुम जाएगा चेहरा ये बदल जाएगा, मेरी आवाज ही पहचान है गर याद रहे ....."।

Well, I guess I was inspired by these lines and have been thinking of recording a video of one of my Poems. The video is on You tube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hFk-sHMhxgY



If its funny its meant to be funny.......

Anyways here is the poem....

रास्तों ने अपने किरदार उतारे,
और किरदारों ने पहन ली रास्तों की आग,
रास्ते उस तरफ मुह किए, इसी मोड़ पे मुड गए,
दूसरी तरफ़ किरदार, अपनी राख समेटे,
हवा के मुह लग चले।

बैठा है बरसों से, इसी जगह ये बुढा मोड़,
सोचता है, क्या हो गई वो आग,
जो किरदारों ने पहन ली थी,
क्या हो गए वो किरदार,
जो रास्तों ने उतार दिए थे।

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

एक कच्ची नज़म


पिछले कुछ दिनों से एक मिसरा अटका हुआ था जहन में। आज ऑफिस से घर लौटते वक़त उसका बुखार तेज हो गया। कुछ देर बस में बेठे बेठे उसकी आंच में बदन तपता रहा। जाने कब बैग से एक कागज निकाला और मवाद सा में कागज पे बहने लगा।

ट्रेन और बस, बदलने और पकड़ने में मूड जाता रहा। बुखार अब भी उतरा नही, जखम अबभी पुरी तरह फुटा नही। अबभी इस नज़म का एक हिस्सा मेरे अन्दर अटका हुआ है अपेंडिक्स की तरह। ख्याल ऊँघने लगे है जहन में, हर तस्सवुर थका हुआ है। कच्ची है ये नज़म, लगता है कच्ची ही रहेगी।

अब भाई, अपना ही ब्लॉग है , कच्ची या पक्की जैसी भी हो सोचा ब्लॉग कर देते है।


कोई नज़म,
सदियों से रूह के गीत गाती रही,
देह का अमृत जगाती रही,
मिट्टी से मिट्टी के दर्द चुगती रही,
लम्हों से इन्सां की राख झडाती रही,
आदमी का उजाला, है लौ आदमी की,
सुबह उगी फलक पे, जो रत भर जलती रही,
इन्सां के ग़म में ढली, दर्द में दुखती रही,
साथ आदमी के, मर मर के जीती रही,
अमर कर दिया, देवो को अमृत पीलाती रही,
इन्सां के सिने में आग, जन्नत की छुपाती रही।

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

To My Dear Friend Shashank

Taking a "blog break" from my poems to commemorate a few minutes talk with my dear friend Shashank, this evening. He is more a brother than a friend. Calling him as part of family would not be an exaggeration.

Well as I left my office building, I called him up and was ranting and raving my disappointment on some personal matter. I was a little perturbed and rattled. He was all ears to me. As always listening to me with great patience and finally threw one of my own couplet back at me and cut me down to size. I was dumbfounded for a moment.

The couplet goes like this

शब् के बाद सहर मुअयियन है मगर,
किस शर्त पे निकलेगा आफताब देखना है।

Well, It was a moment of realization for me in many ways. As always, he preached me, showed me the other side of the coin, which I was refusing to look at it. He tattered my impatience. He gave me back my lost cool. As always he was supportive and stood by my side.

The above couplet came to me in a state of despondence (When I was struggling to find a Job in Pune and could not find one), today again it was given me back by Shashank, when I needed it most.

Shashank, here are few words I could muster up for you, for holding the fort of wisdom for me when I had forsaken it.

एक शेर था मेरा, मैंने कहा था,
इक रोज़ तुम को सुनाया भी था,
उसी रोज़ शायद,
तुम्हारे पास छुट गया था,
जाने कब हाथ छोड़ मेरा,
तुम्हारे साथ हो लिया था।

आज जब तुमने मुझको यतीम पाया,
उसी शेर की उंगली पकड़ा दी मुझको,
फिर से खाली दामां भर दिया मेरा,
हम दो यतीमों को घर पंहुचा दिया।

Monday, May 25, 2009

नगमे - 4

".........सलाम भेजता है शायर हुस्न के नाम" - फैज़ अहमद फैज़

Each one of us is a poet. There is not a moment left when we are not poetic. We do poetry through our mannerisms - the way we talk, the way we carry ourselves, the way we get irritated, the ways we get pleased, our habits even the annoying ones, the way we react to a situation ... etc etc. Not only when we are ourselves, create poetry, but, we create poetry when we interact with other human beings. The situations we invent and the situations in which we land ourselves in, create poetry.

To me, Men, in their mannerisms are poetic outside the bounds of poetry. When they try to come within the bounds of poetry they create Drama. Women, in their mannerisms are in itself poetry. When they try to leave the bounds of poetry they become more poetic.

What fascinates me is the fact that it does not take much to observe the poetry essayed by the humanity. The visual senses are all you need. Bear in mind, the necessary condition to "observe" and for the power of observation to be manifested is the respect for the subject of your observation. Thus I would not go into it in more details than the mere mention of it.

In the following poem the main ingredients are my observations of the men and women alike. Though it praises the later kind. However the following facts adds to its countenance.

Fact-1 : Ever since I heard, I always wanted to write something on the lines of the song "एक लड़की को देखा तो एसा लगा ..." from movie "1942 A Love Story" and written by great poet जावेद अख्तर.

Fact-2: When I first left my home and went Indore M.P. to study Statistics. I observed that the girls in college and even the girls in my class when they drive they cover their faces with scarf, to escape from sun and dust I suppose. This was very appealing to my poetic instincts and I wanted to make use of it in some poetry of mine.

Fact-3: Though in India, women wearing bindi on their forehead is common sight - Bindi's of various colors, shapes and sizes. It was the teeka of rori/kumkum that they wear on their forehead mostly after performing some pooja or returning from temple, that fascinated my poetic instincts. It gives a complete distinct effect on the face than the bindi. The face appears more radiant with marked tender grace ... etc etc :)

Fact-4: What you are about to read, it never happened to me. The wish, that I won't even carry to my grave, being a Hindu I will be burnt to ashes and the wish with me... Ha Ha (I guess I had to go to a Europe visit the DDLJ style..... :) )

Well, fact-1 gave me the structure of the poem and fact 2&3 gave me the first 5 lines of the poem and I hit the dead end. What about the rest? and all those thoughts of writing a long poem suddenly evaporated. I attempted to write this poem when I was in Pune and the sight of girls covering their faces with scarf was not frequent if not rare. While my commute, in taxis/buses between home and work I started again to look for any such sight :) and wished (honestly) that some action of them might give a thrust to my poem beyond those 5 lines.

Well off course it never happened and it took a while to stretch my imagination beyond my such inexperience's to grow the poem to a point.

I recited this poem in one of the annual functions of my company. Enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it.

कोई लड़की दुपट्टे में चेहरा छुपाये,
थी बढ़ी आ रही, दो आँखों की लावें जलाये,
महकती, लहकती वो धड़कती हरारत,
कोई जैसे पूजा में सुबह लोभान जलाये।

वो सुबह के सूरज का माथे पे टीका,
जैसे पीर जबीं पे दुआ रख के निकला,
थी गर्दन झुकी और ऑंखें जमीं पर,
जैसे सज्ज्दों से नमाजी माथे को उठाये।

वो चली आ रही थी अजान की सूरत,
उठे दिल से अरमां नमाजी की सूरत,
उसे पढने लगी ऑंखें दुआओं की सूरत,
जैसे काजी मदरसों में आयते बुलवाये।

ज़िन्दगी से जैसे मुलाकात थी वो,
कज़ा भी जिला दे वो हयात थी वो,
दो चार कदम ही तो दूर थी वो,
क्यों रह गया मिलते ही में नज़र झुकाये।

वो आँखों से आँखें मिलाने की कोशिश,
एक इन्सां को इन्सां जताने की कोशिश,
वो देखते ही मुह फेर लेने की कोशिश,
जैसे निकले काबे से काफिर नज़र चुराये।

वहीं है रास्ते औंधे मुह पड़े हुए,
वहीं है हम हसरत से खड़े हुए,
साये मिटते नही पे गुमां को यकीं है,
वो फिर आ रही है, दो आँखों की लावें जलाये।

नगमे - 3

Since ages, the act of an innocent heart has been called as "blind love". The innocence of the heart can be compared to a child, who wants to believe in everything and everybody without judging them. The manners of a child is the only true religion that comes close to whatever the God stands for. That divine smile of a child is the ointment to the blemishes of the soul. The sight of a child is a feast to the beauty. They are the simplicity in entirety; they simply trust you, put there faith in you, worship you, believe in you, most important accept you as you are. You are the only form of truth they come to know. To them the world is a paradise as lovable as you are to them, can there be anything more honest than this?
Only the child knows how to love and so the innocence of the heart. Only a child's love is the love as it should be and so is the love of an innocent heart.

One can only love as long as there is left some innocence in heart. Once this virginity of the heart is taken away by the influences of the world and by influenced humans, that love is lost for ever.

I hope, in the following song you may find that innocence and love of the heart. When I essayed it, that typical bollywood situation was in my mind - the introduction of a hero by a song :).

धूप में धूप की परछाईयाँ ढूढने निकला हूँ,
साये साये प्यार की परछाईयाँ ढूढने निकला हूँ।

कोई रख के होठों पे इक नाम सुनता होगा,
आँखों की लकीरों में इक चेहरा बुनता होगा,
उसी आँखों के लम्स की झाईयां ढूढने निकला हूँ।

सोच ने जब चूम लिया इक सोच का माथा,
सूनेपन को सूना सा इक सूनापन मिला,
इसी सूनेपन की तन्हाईयाँ ढूढने निकला हूँ।

कभी शाम ढले तेरे माथे का सूरज,
किनारे आँखों के गूंगे पानी में उतरे,
उन्ही लम्हों की खामोशियाँ ढूढने निकला हूँ।

Sunday, May 24, 2009

नगमे - 2

इस ग़ज़ल को कहने में बहुत मश्शकत करनी पड़ी। लगभग दो हफ्ते लग गए थे लिखने में। बहुत सोचा कोई सिरा ख्याल का हाथ नही लगा । आप को तो पता ही होगा, खामोशियाँ बहुत बोलती है, एक दिन बेठे बेठे इन्ही को सुन रहा था, इनका मिजाज देख रहा था, की एक शेर झन्नाके गिरा जमीं पर। मैंने फौरन उसे जमी से उठाया, उसकी धूल झाडी, मुह पौछा और जेब में रख लिया। अकेला शेर कभी कभी अपने आप में मुकम्मल होता है , शर्त ये है की वो फॅमिली वाला न हो। मैंने देखा ये अकेला शेर, चहरे से फॅमिली वाला लगता था, गमभीर, जिम्मेदार, थोडी तोंद निकली हुई, दाढ़ी - मुछे साफ, था मगर लापता। जल्द ही इसके जोडीदार न ढूंढे तो ये मेरा घर में रहना हराम कर देगा। थोड़ा वक्त लगा, आख़िर इसके जोडीदार मिल ही गए| ग़ज़ल अर्ज़ करता हों ....

तेरी खुशबु गिरी है आँखों में ,
जिंदगी कांप उठी है आँखों में।

कुछ तो कहो की ये खामोशियाँ,
रात भर गूंजती है आँखों में।

देर तक शाम वो पहलू में बेठे रहे,
देर तलक होती रही अज़ान आँखों में।

न जगाओ मुझे की वो आँखे भी,
एक पल को लगी है आँखों में।

Saturday, May 23, 2009

नगमे - 1 (Title Song)

As promised, now few songs that I had once written for the album, which never saw the daylight...

Every song that I wrote I have to come up with the idea, since that guy only told me the name of the album, that he is looking for one Ghazal and few songs, along with the title song.

I based this title song upon a theme or expression which I found poetic and made a mental note of it to make use of it in some poem. Well, it came as an effect of the words spoken by my friend , whom we use to call as colonel uncle. He was a retired colonel (off course from Army) and he was one of our colleagues, studying the computer science course from UIUC's off site campus at New Delhi. One evening while he was speaking about his wife to me, he said some thing on the lines that- when a kind of report is established between the two individuals and that they both become kind of predictable to each other. At least he was very predictable being the creature of habits, he confessed.

Well, here is the title song, which I based on the above thought. The situation as explained above, found its place in the last stanza of the song... rest all is my तस्सवुर (imagination)।

हर सुबह तेरा चूमके माथा, तुझे जगाते है नगमे,
रात भर सोयी पलकों पे, ख्वाब सजाते है नगमे |

तुम आए हो घर की मेरे, खुशबू बदल गई,
हर इक शै में तेरे हाथों की नरमी धड़क गई,
बुझे चराग तनहा शामो के, फ़िर जलाते है नगमे|

हर सुबह तेरा चूमके माथा, तुझे जगाते है नगमे...

बादलों की लकीरों में ढूँढते है नक्श तेरा,
धुप में पाने लगे आँखों का उजाला तेरा,
रख मिटटी पे नाम तेरा साया बनाते है नगमे |

हर सुबह तेरा चूमके माथा, तुझे जगाते है नगमे...

दिल का बूझता पानी, फिर जिलाया होगा,
बूझा के सूरज को फिर हाँथ जलाया होगा,
ये तेरी शामो के किस्से, सौ बार सुनाते है नगमे |

हर सुबह तेरा चूमके माथा, तुझे जगाते है नगमे...

When Words Follows From Words....

The nature of poem is hard to describe in handful of words. Its only to experience. How it takes away the burden of the heart, cannot be known. It seems it does nothing, but to point out, to us, the facts which we already know consciously or subconsciously and never might dare to put it in so many words or even to name it. I think, its this act of poem, to name those burdens of soul and heart, in so many words that there remains nothing but the naked self before the eyes, looking directly in the eyes. Its the process in which we see ourselves born once again from our wombs. It equips us with tools necessary to accept ourselves and to live in peace with ourselves.

Sometimes, something of you is left remain in them and sometimes, something of them is left remain in you. You breath in them, they breath in you.

Well, so much to say that there is a couplet of Faiz Ahmad Faiz, which had remained in me, for better I suppose. It has always given me strength and moral support in times when I am stripped of with all hopes. The couplet goes like this

दिल ना उम्मीद तो नही, नाकाम ही तो है,
लम्बी है ग़म की शाम मगर, शाम ही तो है ||
( Though my heart is a failure, its still hopeful. No matter how impassable a dusk seems, still it fades away)

Javed Akhtar, is a true son of a poet (his father Janisaar Akhtar is one of the pillars of Urdu literature) and one of the few lyricists in Bollywood who is still penning the meaningful songs, the one other remaining is Gulzar. I think Javed Akhtar, was inspired by this couplet to write one of the songs (I should rather call it a poem/Nazam) for the movie "1942 A Love Story". I hope one remembers that memorable song
ये सफर बहुत है कठिन मगर, ना उदास हो मेरे हमसफ़र......

This song underlines that couplet in the start.

These two things in turn inspired me to write the following Nazam (poem). Very interestingly one guy showed such a interest in this poem that he wanted to record it for one of the albums and he had chosen me to write the songs. Ha ha, off course the album was never got recorded and was never meant to be recorded. I was deceived, in thinking that I am getting a break in Bollywood in amchi Mumbai as a lyricist.......Nevertheless, I didn't mind at all that I was deceived why? because it gave me opportunity to write so many Nazams and that's what it matters to me. Any situation bad or good, if gives me a poem that is all I wish out of it.

I have planned to put all those Nazams on my blogs as many as I remember still. The album was suppose to be named as नगमे , and I even penned a title song for it. For now enjoy this poetry inspired by the couplet written by Faiz saab.

बर आयेगी हर उम्मीद,
दिल लहू से गर्माते रहो,
तवाफ़ पे है, मह्रोमाह,
रोज़ से शब् , शब् से रोज़ छुडाते रहो |

अपने कनार में रहो सबाँ आई है,
सोजे बादा ऐ सहर लिए हुए,
नूर गर्माओ जिस्मो की महक से,
चल रहे है दागे शबनम लिए हुए |

दर्द का जो आहंग है, रहने दो,
कैफ का जो उरूज़ है, रहने दो,
ना ठहरा दूरी ऐ जमीनों आसमां,
रवां है हम रवां रहने दो |

हम भी देखेंगे वो आतिशे शर्रर ऐ पैहम,
वो दीदार की साहिर साअत जब ,
तमिज़े माजी ओ पर्दा रहती है, ना हदे इमरोज़,
रह जाती है तो फकत अपनी बात जब

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Two and Few More Years Back



It was today, two years back that I stepped on this land of opportunities called America. So to pin this day, I am sharing following poem that I wrote in some october 2003. Though even remotely, It has nothing to do with my coming to America or anything else related to it. However for me this poem is special and of great importance and thus sharing the poem and its importance on this day.






When I wrote this poem, I had for weeks, not seen the sunrise/sunset nor had time to lift my head up and see the sky. I was deep buried in a project with an ambitious deadline (I really hate those people who just go out and commit any delivery dates to client....). Well anyways, one evening, I resolved to see at least the sunset. I went outside the company building and these were the words that smiled at me, put there warm hands on my heart, asked me how I am doing and took away the burden of my heart and soul. I found one scrap of a paper in my pocket and wrote these words.

All the above is again not important, the important thing is that, few weeks after , I learnt that Gulzar saab is visiting Pune to grace his presence on the opening show of his play "Kharashen". I had to see this play and I had to get an autograph of this great poet. So I made a fare copy of this poem and left a little space on that paper to be filled in by Gulzar saab... Yes I managed to get the autograph and that sheet of paper is still with me....my million dollars.......

Enjoy the poetry.....
सुबह आती है दबे पाँव गुजर जाती है,
उजालों की सरसराहट भी सुनाई नही देती,
दिन भर दौड़ता हूँ दिन की तलाश में,
ख़बर नही होती, कब रात,
जिस्म की लावें बुझा देती है ....

कब से भेजा है खैरीयत को अपनी ख़बर लेने,
लगता है इक गुमराह को और भी गुमराह कर है

Sunday, May 17, 2009

ताज़ा कलाम - कुछ और गुस्ताखीयाँ

Written after staring for 2-3 hours at the blank blog page... I had never thought the voids of blank blog page would ever yield to these words ...spontaneously


देर तलक देखता रहा, सादे सफ्हे पे उड़ती हुई खलायें
देर तलक इक दर्द में, अपनी कोख में दुखता रहा
सुर्ख शफ़क - ऐ -तस्सवुर से इक शुआ न फूटी
बहुत देर हरूफों के ठंडे हाँथ महसूस करता रहा ...

तुमने भी तो , किसी नाम से पुकारा नही मुझे
जिंदगी ने भी , जीने की इजाज़त न दी मुझे

Saturday, May 16, 2009

For Mother, To My Mother

Once, for two years or so, Delhi the capital of India was my abode. I use to live in Safdurjung as a paying guest. One night I dreamed that I am at home and laying in the sun on the terrace. My mother comes and ask me to have lunch. I replied in a little irritated voice that Mother I am writing a poem for you so don't disturb me. She went away and I stood murmuring looking at the sun सूरज की राख .....

I wake up from my dream as an air bubble comes to surface in a fish tank. The words which I was murmuring in my dream were right on my lips. I could not go to sleep again. I lay there repeating these words to myself and thus the following poem was born. It was a trans like situation... the words were just flowing through my mind and I was not aware of what I am writing or whether it make sense or not. when I finished with it, it was about 4 am in the morning, I put the notebook and pen aside and went through the chores of the day. In the evening when I came back to my room, I picked up my notebook, I read what I had written and I was pleased to see that this poem is nothing short of a biography of my mother....

Many a times, I have seen in my dreams, pages of some notebook that I am reading poetry written on it or have found myself writing poem or murmuring words. This is the only occasion when words actually followed me out of the dream.


अपने भीगे पल्ले के छोर से इक गांठ खोल कर
आज धुप में सुखाने डाली है उसने,
कुछ भीगी हुई किरिचे धुप की,
चौके में जो भीग गया था पल्ला उसका

बरसों पहले जब लांघी थी, इस घर की चोखट उसने
एक चुटकी किरिचे धुप की लेकर, देहरी से,
अपने पल्ले में गांठ लगायी थी

सूरज के पल्ले में भी है इक गांठ
मेरी माँ की मिटटी की
कहीं जलकर, राख न हो गई हो, अबतक ,
बरसो आग देती आई है सूरज को , माँ अपनी मिटटी की

From the Genie Corner

I am actually trying to blog most of my nazams and here is one of them which I said long ago. Also with this poem, I am trying to revive my Genie corner.

Well, I have, sometimes written poems for my friends, which mostly they wanted to include in their love letters. I found this situation very poetic and shoved it back in my mind to write about it when my mood ripes. Sometimes when I am itchy to write but no specific subject in mind, I recollect all those situations on which I wanted to write. One such day I resolved to write on this situation of love letters ( ख़त ) and here it is

कलम उठाया होगा जब ताब - ऐ - दस्त खो गई होगी
और उठाया होगा जब हर बात खो गई होगी
ख़त लिखने बेठी होगी जब बैठा न जाता होगा
देख के सादा कागज खला आँखों मै पड़ गया होगा

सलाम पर ही रो रो के ऑंखें सूज गई होंगी
अभी लिखा न होगा की साँसे फूल गई होंगी
जुबान पे आया होगा नाम जब बोला न जाता होगा
हाथों को जुम्बिश दी होगी जब लिखा न जाता होगा

हाल पुछा मेरा अपना अहवाल न लिखा गया
और तो सब कुछ कहा मामूल न लिखा गया
कुछ न बन पड़ा जब गर्मी - ऐ - वफूरे अहसास बढ़ी
दो भीगी ऑंखें अपनी ख़त में रख कर भेज दी

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Gustakhiyan ....

हर्फ़ तुम्हारी उम्र लेकर जाविदाँ हो जाते है
तुम्हारी साँसे लेकर धड़कते रहते है
तुम्हारे ख्यालों की रानायियतें पैकर इनका
तुमसे पैदा हुए है तुम्हारे जुड़वां कहलाते है

तुम भी तो जुड़वां हो इन्ही हर्फों की
तुम्हें इन्ही में धड़कता पाया है मैंने
जो रह गया था इनकी आँखों में
वही तुम्हारा उजाला देखा है मैंने

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Aarz Kiya Hai - 2

Just now recollected a nazam, which I wrote some 4-5 yrs back. Thought Just to blog it and would worry about translation and how it was conceived, all but later (Almost time to bed, if I have to be awake to enter the whirlpool (office) tomorrow)

Shaam hui dhaal chala hai aaftaab,
hum bhi ghar jakar apne, aab dhaal jayenge |

door talak hayaat ke koi sarsarahat nahi,
sanson ka jism mai dhasne ka aahsaas bhi nahi |

na deer se khayaal koi pahlu se uth kar gaya ,
hasraton ne karwat badli, na koi armaan he dukha |

ujalon ke gard bhi jhadai nahi paeraahan se aab taak,
murda saaya bhi jism ka mitti se uthaya nahi aab tak |

na kuch yaad aata hai, na hamari he sai-aa-taab rahi,
jaahan bujh chuka hai na aab aag mai aag rahi |

badaan ka aalav bhi dhanda ho chala hai aab uth jayenge,
hum bhi ghar jakar apne, aab dhaal jayenge |


Monday, May 11, 2009

Aarz Kiya Hai....

I have been thinking to pen religiously something for my blog. However I am aware of my limitations in prose. I feel at home in expressing myself through poetry especially urdu poetry.. in forms of Gazals/Sher/Nazam.

Well, today while cooking dinner (some two hours ago), the chain of my thoughts revealed a Sher to me, which I had said (wrote) long back [ in urdu poetry you don't write a Gazal/Sher/Nazam you always say for example you will hear people saying "maine ek sher kaha ...."

I remember I was in Pune (India) and I took the public bus to home from work. As I had to pass my time and also I was itching to say something....before I reached home, I came up with following couplet actually a "Makta"....

es ko bhala kahon  "Amit", ya usko bura kahon,
ye jo bijali giri ghar pe, ya wo jo ghar khaak hua ||

(Well let me try to translate it in English.....give me a hand please ........will you ?

What shall I consider of these two act "Amit",
is it good, the striking of lightning on my house, or is it bad, that my house turned charred  
)  -- oh well I tried at least......:)

CHOICES - Sometimes, its hard to distinguish between good and bad effect of a choice and sometimes, its hard to distinguish between good choice and bad choice. The couplet is my humble attempt to capture that very nature of choices that we face daily in our life. 

 


Saturday, May 09, 2009

A toast to the human spirit

Written some 4-5 years back as a token to the celebration of human spirit...

I come to you oh!  dawn,
lit my heart and eyes,
had there been no east and west,
the three Suns would have born ... I come to you Oh ! dawn....

Tall Extra Hot Chai - Made Sweet

For long (very long) I had felt the absence from my dashboard...many things changes with time - I changed and so the blog ... I have been groping for a topic to pick up the threads left long ago and concluded to write upon the way of life - success and more of failures( since its taste is still fresh), how they affect you and how they render you a personality.

How do we grow in life? once, we reach a frame of certain size. You don't have to be a seer to retort - Experiences !! (I add under my breath - if we survive one ). Well, how do we then measure it?

The ups and downs in our lives test our metal. They bring us in close proximity to ourselves. They are the mirrors in which we see ourselves. They give us a chance to hug ourselves. It is this touch - the dawn of our wisdom. It's a paradox of life, that we learn more from our failures than form our success. Did I say failure? am I saying that you fail more to acquire more wisdom?

Well, we take a step forward and sometimes fell down, right on our face. Is it a failure? may be not - that one forward step, was doomed to bring you down on your face. Is it a mistake? may be not - that one forward step, was a conscious action taken in full faith to gain success. 

Actually, as I mull on it, that failure is  more a Ignorance  -  A blinding pride, assumed assumptions (on our part and mostly on other's behalf), possessed with the spells of desires, as soon as we take that step, we fall. It is because when we fall we see, the bubble of pride exploded, assumptions shattered, desires mowed down, stripped off with every little illusions about self and find ourselves naked, face to face with the world. Alas !! The humility sinks in, which is difficult to admit to the world and impossible to admit to ourselves. I think this is what we loosely call as FAILURE. 

I have always wondered, this so called failures, are not for the frail hearts. Only the worthy comes out winners, others they loose everything starting from mind....

WISDOM -  is what we learn from the process of getting ourselves up on our foot (after above described GOOD FALL) , in gaining the grounds back below our feet. How do we muster courage to get up, to stand again on one's feet. No body is there to give you hand, because they are busy in laughing their hearts out (not only others, sometimes even our dear ones ... remember the story by Tolstoy "God sees the truth but waits" what does the wife goes and ask her husband in prison ? ). 

The only way to get up,  The only way I got up - is the thought that "Its my action and my decision now whatever comes out of it, good or bad is all MINE"... no one can put it better than Ghalib

Apni he khudi se ho, jo kuch bhi ho,
aagahi na sahi , gaaflat he sahi !!

(whatever happens, must happen,  out of my own ego (EGO - one's own self) 
if not  cognizance or alertness (aagahi -cheetna) , be it my laxity (gaaflat - asaawdhaani) ) - excuse my incapacity to translate the magic of a sher

The other important thing, that helps and had helped me, is to admit to ourselves the humility and our ignorance. It was a very hard lesson to practice, now it comes to me, if not easily but with much less efforts. It did wonder's to me .... I was able to laugh on myself, I was able to make a joke of myself, I was able to be silly and serious at the same time, I came to know my capabilities and incapability's, I came to know who I am and what I am not, I came to know the measure of my patience, it added to my tolerance, it certainly busted all the illusions about self and others, for example, I discovered a friend within and able to see a friend among hundreds of friendly people, it bent me in many ways unimaginable,  that I gained, that flexibility and known the limits when I will break,it made me accommodating, it gave me the eyes to see the beauty even in a barren tree, it gave me ears to recognize that sweet music in the rhythm of life, it gave me back my hands to hold that weeping heart, my lips trembled with those heeling words - which every one longs to hear in those desperate moments and realized only you can say those words to yourself, I was armed with that inevitable perception or imagination - which is required to put myself in other person's shoes and to say truly " I Understand", I learnt to guard my self respect and to regard it in others, learn the meaning and gist of relationships, Yes !! overwhelmed me with optimism, preached me the art of living and how to savour the juices of each passing moment, came to know, the dignity of being human, it overwhelmed me with humbleness and made me human.  

All these, I could not have learned from any book, in any national or international school ... except my penchant to tread the path of life on my own, to take pride in my decisions and to accept, whole hearted, whatever good or bad comes along my way and most important, the very TRUST in myself.

Recently, just a week back, at my work, I made some silly mistakes, not that I did it deliberately but somehow I missed it ... I just missed it to see it before hand though I toiled myself to give my best shot and with all alertness.... Oh Hell !! no excuses, I openly admitted to my seniors, my mistakes. Said sorry to myself and to them. I lived my days in humongous humility,shame,agony, anger, pain, hopelessness, bitterness ... etc.. it looks like, whatever I touched, it failed and I fall flat on my face. 

Now, when all that storm passed away and I gained back some of my senses. As, I reflect upon those chain of events, it dawned on me, that in those acerbic days, in all bitterness, the only sweetest thing that chanced upon me, was my SWEET extra hot tall chai in the morning, that I still buy from Starbucks before stepping into the office building.

How strange !! a little insignificant act, executed without giving a thought, in the perspective, surge  a new life, a new hope and renders you appease and gratified.

Sunday, April 26, 2009