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

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

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

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

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

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 |

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. 

 

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.

Waiting for the right wave

Taken from my Palm at Rockport

From Old to New

Hi Guys..Lost my old blogs they have shifted to me on this new blog but they are unable to retrieve my old postings. however i find that the old postings can still be seen from http://amitkhare.blogspot.com/

Well...you know being a poet I have to grab my mood again and have to go on with this new blog....till I get my mood back please visit the postings on above address...Thanks for remembering me..

Amit Khare

Amit Khare

Shaab Ke Baad Sahar Muaiyan Hai Magar,
Kis Shart Pe Niklega Aaftab Deekhna Hai