I wasn't like this before.......

Believe me

I wasn’t always like this

Lacking common sense

Or looking insane

Like you

I used to be clever

In my days

Never like this

Totally enraptured

Totally gone

Like sharp shooters

I used to be

A hunter of hearts

Not like today

With my own heart

Drowning in its blood

Nonstop asking and

Searching for answers

That was then

But now

So deeply enchanted

So deeply enthralled

Always pushing

To be ahead and above

Since i was not yet hunted down

By this

Ever-increasing love

RumiÂ
– Translation by Nader Khalili
“Rumi, Fountain of Fire”
Cal-Earth Press, 1991

Image Courtesy: Windswept Fields by Sorsdhal

Carve me out into mould of yours O love!

The following qawwali by Ameer Khusro has an almost haunting feel to it, or perhaps the way Shafqat Amanat Ali's vocals have rendered it that 'soze' has added to that magical effect. I am not into Khusro's poetry. At times despite grasping the concept, the idea of lover and beloved as he presents, becomes too knotty for me.

However, I just fell for this one. The yearning, the longing, the desire is so strong, so potent that it hardly leaves any margin for not falling a prey to those gutsy torrents of love showering down upon one's entire being.

Translating it was the closest thing I felt I could do to immerse in those blinding showers of intoxicating pure love. I so wish I could do better with this for this deserves to be treated so.

Mohay apnay hi rung mein rung lay,

Tu to saaheb mera Mehboob-e-Ilaahi;

Mohay apnay hi rung mein……

Humri chundariya, piyaa ki pagariya,

Woh to donon basanti rung day;

Tu to saaheb mera …….

Jo kuch mangay rung ki rungaai,

Mora joban girvi rakhlay;

Tu to saaheb mera…….

Aan pari darbaar tehaaray,

Mori laaj saram sab rakh lay;

Tu to saaheb mera Mehboob-e-Ilaahi,

Mohay apnay hi rung mein rung lay.

Tone me into a glow of thine

Thee my sir, are Allah's beloved

Dye me into a cast of thine

My scarf and the love's turban

Let both be flushed with the tint of spring

Thee my lord, are Allah's beloved

Whatever it may cost infusing the color

Loan it against all this bloom of mine

Thee my knight, are Allah's beloved

(now that) I have rolled in at thine court

Thou I ask to keep my honor and esteem

Thee my man, are Allah's beloved

Adorn me with that value of thine

Lyrics: Ameer Khusro
Inapt translation: mine
Image Courtesy: learningguidenetwork.com

Talaash-e-harf, Khayal-e-Faiz

More often than not all of us let our worlds revolve around activities that are related to the outside sphere, rather than concentrating upon the one that matters to the universe that exists within.
Unfortunately, whatever we find happening, happens in the EXTERNAL orbits, away from the electric field of the nucleus that is responsible to keep us charged. This just serves to dissociate us farther from our inner self. The happenings serve as the magical potion, the entrancing tranquilizer, which take us away from the turmoils of the self; far far away into a land of forgetful bliss, an island of beautiful sunrises and enchangting eves. The intoxicating rush of breaking away from the reality is so potent that like a speedy car of a drunken driver, it makes us loose our sense of direction and we dive straight into the realm of artificiality that we fondly call "the happening world".

However, the hangover of this treacherous lovemaking with the diva la-di-da leaves one battered like the Titanic. Then all what is left for the self to gloat in consists of a void so deepening that it swallows every thought into the black hole at its pit; words are  rendered speechless and fancy rotting to nothingness. All that is left is an echoing silence!

Aaj ek harf ko phir dhoondta phirta hai khayal
Madh bhara harf koi, zeher bhara harf koi

Dil-nashin harf koi, qeher bhara harf koi
Aaj ek harf ko phir dhoondta phirta hai khayal...

Today again my fancy seeks a word to soar
An intoxicating word,  a word brimming of venom
A word that bewitches, a word that is barbed
Today again my fancy seeks a word to soar...

Harf-e-ulfat koi dildar-e-nazar ho jaise

Jis’se milti hai nazar bosa-e-lab ki surat
Itna roshan ke sare-mauja-e-zar ho jaise
Sohbat-e-yaar main aghaaz-e-tarab ki surat
Harf-e-nafrat koi shamsheer-e-ghazab ho jaise,
Aaj ek harf ko phir dhoondta phirta hai khayal...

A word of desire like the enchanting beloved herself

Whose glance greets like a kiss on the lips

As radiant as the wavelet of a sea of gold

Like the hum of a ballad in the company of a lover

A word of spite that wounds like a vengeful sword

Today again my fancy seeks a word to soar...

Ta abad shahre-sitam jis’se tabah ho jayein

Itna tareeq ke shamshan ki shab ho jaise
Lab pe laoon to mere honth siyah ho jayein
Aaj ek harf ko phir dhoondta phirta hai khayal...

A word so potent to consume the rancor forever

A word so dark as the eve of a charnel

A word when uttered,  leaves my lips charred

Today again my fancy seeks a word to soar...

Poet: Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Inapt translation: mine

Image Courtesy: Photograph by Roberto Grilli

And So I Left Facebook..

"I believe this has been VERY biased and shamelessly blasphemous an act by the Facebook administration to not ban the group "Everybody Draw Muhammad Day". In addition to getting my protest registered in black and white, I am deactivating my Facebook account for the next couple of days. This status msg would stay here for a while so as to ask all others affected to join as well."

A few hours later, my Facebook account deactivation form bore this deactivation reason:

"I condemn Facebook for not banning the event of "Everybody Draw Muhammad". I am utterly disappointed in Facebook for explicitly associating itself with extremism and racial/(anti)religious fundamentalism, and that too, via the most heinous form of Freedom of Expression. Since Facebook, despite being a global 'social' networking site, has failed to control and ban things that are hurtful to my feelings and those of my nation,  I find it below my dignity and against my self respect to keep using it." 

I wish there was more that I could do, in addition to asking for a 'dislike' button for a note shared at a friend's profile, and which read:

Please be patient and offer durood. Think of what the Prophet S.A.W. would have done. He would have smiled and forgiven them (the blasphemers) for their lack of understanding. Lets show the same tolerance as that of our beloved Prophet S.A.W. and stop participating in this useless condemnation.

I wonder how 'beloved' is this beloved? And is this the same cool display of patience they would have expressed had the target been one of their really loved ones? 

Main hosh mein hoon, Abida Parveen

main hosh mein hoon hosh mein hoon, hosh mein hoon... 

I am sane, in my senses, in my wakefulness

deewaana hoon to tera hoon

And to Thou still I belong in my craze

hoon raaz agar to tera hoon 

If an untold secret, to Thou I belong

afsaana hoon to tera hoon, 

If a myth narrated, I belong to Thee

barbaad kiya barbaad huva 

Deserted by Thou, ruined I am

aabad kiya aabaad huva

Blessed by Thou,  salvaged I am

viraana hoon to tera hoon,

If bereft, to Thou I belong

tera kaashaana hoon to tera hoon, 

If endowed, I belong to Thee

(iss teri tajjali ken kurbaan kurbaan-e tajjali har unava) - 

main shamma bhi hoon to tera hoon 

If a beacon I am, to Thou alone I belong

parwaana hoon to tera hoon, 

If a seeker, I belong to Thee

tu mere kaif ki duniya hai - 

From Thou I draw my serenity

tu meri masti ka aalam 

In Thee I find my ecstasy

paimaana hoon to tera hoon -

If a chalice, to Thou I belong

maikhaana hoon to tera hoon,

If a tavern, I belong to Thee

har zarra Zaheen ki hasti ka 

Each speck of Zaheen's humble self

tasveer hai teri sar-taa-pa 

carries an image of Thou all over

woh kaabaa-e-dil dhaanewaale 

Oh Thou who can raze the Kaaba shrine of heart

butkhaana hoon to tera hoon, 

Even if am an idol temple, I belong to Thee

main hosh mein hoon to tera hoon 

deewaana hoon to tera hoon

In my sanity, to Thou I belong, 

in my madness I belong to Thee

(the translation is mine, hence quite humble.)

Come September

Come September, the Rock Hudson version (there are 2 remakes), is one of the truly delightful movie experiences from my yester years. I remember my gleeful mum as she recalled her fond memories of her elder brother moving in and out of home humming this tune; her fondness of Rock Hudson, another factor in making this a special watch. 

Heard this after years, and the simple joy that this lovely tune brings with it alongwith the gushing stream of images of some lovely and heart warming smiles just made me hum along. Wanna join? :)

My SUN's mothers' day gift :)

It's gonna rain

It has been a pretty good weather for the last couple of days, for this time of the year. But still I am thrilled by this wind storm that is beginning to pick up. Its thrashing against the structures like a mad lover, crashing like an angry sea god. The wind hisses and wails alternatingly, talking of the happenings only it witnesses during its flow. Sobbing for the sorrows only carries within. The sturdy trunk braves the slapping wind with enviable dignity, while the weak branches sway with the force, grooving along the orchestra only a wild wind can play.


Its dusty. I close my eyes and decide to get back in. But my senses ask me to stop. Its turning moist. The dampness that is the gentle texture of the soothing shower which is going to subdue this mad lover, is slightly becoming detectable. Soon this hissing and wailing wind would be sighing of relief, gathered and collected within the moisture washing away its sorrows.

I stay on the terrace for I smell rain in this hurling cloak of dust. 

The wait is over.

Choosing a turn.

Have you ever been at a cross section? Of course you have been. But how about being on the cross section where you are to choose between two of the available turns, and both are left. This LEFT or that LEFT! Yeah, thats when you don't have any RIGHT. 

Life could be testing. For you? Are you sure?

A very captivating message that we tend to forget in the mundaneness of the day in day out life ......

Pal Pal ...

A lovely pahari folk song by Tahira Syed which is laden with the richness of softness that is so characteristic of the folk music.

I couldn't grasp the lyrics completely to put them down here for the benefit of readers, but the mood and the feeling isn't hard to capture. And how could it be any other way! the mellowness and softness and the ultimate sense of serene belonging that only some relation, deep relation, can allow makes it just relevant..

I remember talking about the richness of folk music with someone some eons ago, and what I realized for the first time was the pleasant discovery that the lavishness of tenderness with which folk music tickles ones senses is a result of the patient braving of the souls and traditions embedded in soil against the ravaging assaults of time.

Its a warm early evening. And the time and mood ask for some reconnecting with the self, roots, and everything in between .....

Enjoy your day ....

Image Courtesy: Earth's Richness by Howard Ganz