Thursday, September 29, 2011

Manam Mehv-e Khayal

The original kalam of Bu Ali Shah Qalandar (1209- 1324) uses the word "jamal-e oo" instead of "khayal-e oo"

منم محوِ خیال او نمی دانم کُجا رفتم
شُدم غرقِ وصال او  نمی دانم کُجا رفتم

In the thoughts of my Love, I've sunk
Knoweth not I, where I go
In the embrace of my Love I drowned
I lost all clue, where I go!

غلامِ روئے او بودم اسیر روئے او بودم
غبارِ کوئے او بودم نمی دانم کُجا رفتم

Surrendered to a glimpse of Thee O' Love
Caught within those long tresses am I
Turned to dust in Thy path, swirl I
Oh, but knoweth not I, where I go!

بہ عام آشنا گشم زجان و دل فدا گشتم
فنا گشتم فنا گشتم نمی دانم کُجا رفتم

Thee is who they know of, when know of wandering I
Lost my heart and soul to Thou, now wander I
Perished into this wandering... ruined am I
Yet, where do I stray, can not see I

قلندر بو علی ہستم بنام دوست سر مستم
دل اندر عشق او بستم  نمی دانم کُجا رفتم

Bu Ali Qalandar - Ecstatic at the mention of the Beloved
Existing over the intoxication of love
Knoweth not I ... where I go!

Kalam: Bu Ali Shah Qalandar
Inapt translation: mine

Video credits: Sufi Music

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Jogi Utar Paharon Aya

Drained, dead tired, I was searching for something by Abida ji to listen before I hit the pillow. 

Yes, I dont smoke, I dont drink... but I do keep certain indulgences. Abdullah, coffee and Abida... exactly in that order!

Fumbling through youtube, I was sure it would be "bekhudi bay-sabab nahi Ghalib", in Abida's voice that would make the last mark before I lose track of time and space...

But, I stumbled across something else!
A gem! :)

Totally, absolutely, ultimately SO in love with it!

The night suddenly feels beautiful... jogi utar paharon aya..

Do I also need to mention I feel warmly cuddled in a loving embrace, as I recall amma humming the words ...

Apologies for not providing any translation for my non punjabi speaking friends. This is a tappa, and its simplicity is beyond my scope of translation... :)

Monday, September 26, 2011


Here's a joint!

Two different poets; Two singers. 
The point of commonality is the spirit of the words: Ruthless. Killing.
Aren't these the kind of words that take your heart away? 

These are. These not only take it away; these words tear it down, chop it up, smash it, squeeze it ... 

... and draw the elixir out. 

Drew the elixir out!

But kia karain kay 'nasha baqadr-e hosla-e badakhuar tha!'

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Which One Is True?

When you set out on a journey without a clue of the destination in your gear, it leads you right back to where you started.


"Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.” 
-Andre Gide

Friday, September 23, 2011

Fly To Heaven

This is love: to fly to heaven, every moment to rend a hundred veils;
At first instance, to break away from breath -- first step, to renounce feet;
To disregard this world, to see only that which you yourself have seen.

I said, "Heart, congratulations on entering the circle of lovers,
"On gazing beyond the range of the eye, on running into the alley of the breasts."

Whence came this breath, O heart? Whence came this throbbing, O heart?
Bird, speak the tongue of birds: I can heed your cipher!

The heart said, "I was in the factory whilst the home of water and clay was abaking.
"I was flying from the workshop whilst the workshop was being created.

"When I could no more resist, they dragged me; how shall I
tell the manner of that dragging?"


Source: "Mystical Poems of Rumi", A.J. Arberry

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Hum-Nawaee. Na Thi.

Following is a master piece by Naseer Turabi (it was a grave mistake to mention Addam as the poet earlier on, for which I apologize!

Sung differently, by two distinct voices, the two versions must not be compared, for each has its own flavor. Each bringing forth a newer dimension of heart ache that only the poet could envision. Or a listener might feel.

"Woh hamsafar tha, magar uss say hum-nawaee na thi" is poignant. And many a times, such a true story!

Tark e taulaqaat pe, roya na tu na mein,
Lakin yeh kya keh chain se soya na tu, na mein

Woh humsafar tha magar us say hum-nawaee na thi
keh dhoop chaaon ka alam raha, judaee na thi

Mohabbaton ka safar is tarha bhi guzra tha
Shikasta dil thay musaafir shikasta-paaee na thi

Adawatain theen, taghaful tha, ranjishain theen
Bicharhnay walay main sab kuch tha, bewafaee na thi

Bicharhtay waqt un aankhon main thi humari ghazal
Ghazal bhi woh jo kisi ko abhi sunayi na thi

Kabhi yeh haal keh donon main yakdili thi Naseer
Kabhi yeh marhala jaisay keh aashnaee na thi


Khuda wo waqt na laye kay sogawar ho tu
sukoon ki neend tujhay bhi haram ho jaye
teri musarrat-e-paiham tamam ho jaye
teri hayat tujhay talkh jam ho jaye

ghamon se aina-e-dil gudaz ho tera
Hujoom-e-yas se betaab ho ke reh jaye
wafoor-e-dard se simab ho ke reh jaye
tera shabaab faqat khwaab ho ke reh jaye

ghuroor-e-husn sarapa niyaz ho tera
taweel raton main tu bhi qarar ko tarsay
teri nigah kisi gamgusar ko tarsay
khizaan raseeda tamanna bahaar ko tarse

koi jaeen na teray sang-e-astan pe jhuke
ke jins-e-ijz-o-aqidat se tujh ko shad kare
fareb-e-wada-e-farda pe aetamad kare
Khuda wo waqt na laye ke tujh ko yad aye

wo dil ke tere liye be-qarar ab bhi hai
wo ankh jis ko tera intazar ab bhi hai

Yeh Jalwa-Giri Kis Ki Hai!

Nuktacheen hai gham-e-dil usko sunaye na banay
Kya banay baat jahan baat banaye na banay

Bojh woh sar pe gira hai ke uthaye na uthay
Kaam woh aan paRa hai ke banaye na banay

Ghair phirta hai liye yoon teray khat ko ke agr
koi poochay ke ye kia hai tou chupaey na banay

Keh sakay kaun ke yeh jalwa-giri kis ki hai
Parda choara hai jo uss nay, ke uthaey na banay

Main bhulata tou hoon usko magar ay jazbaa-e-dil
Uspay ban jaaye kuch aesi ke bin aaye na banay 

Ishq par zoar nahin hai yeh woh aatish `Ghalib'
Ke lagaye na lagay aur bujhaye na banay

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Ghalib Set the Condition Right! :)

Whiskey Glass

Latafat ba kasafat jalwah paida kar nahin sakti
Chaman, zangar hai aeena'ay baad'ay bahari ka
Hareef-e josh-e darya, nahin khuddaar-e-sahil
Jo saqi ho to, batil hai dawa hoshyari ka


Monday, September 19, 2011


"Then lets see how long now can last. And remember, Dr Jones. You asked for it."

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Three Words: Sculpted, Worshiped & Smashed

Just cherishing the beauty that 'Farsi' is, and celebrating the ecstasy that it brings when coupled with the intensity of experience. You could relate to it too... All you need to do is to find a point of reference with either of the two: Pygmalion or Galatea!

Please have a seat, grab some coffee and make yourself comfortable... 

فرزانہ بہ گفتارم دیوانہ بہ کردارم
از بادہ شوق تو ہشیارم و مستم من

Jalwa Baqadr-e Zarf-e Nazar

Unless you are God; you could either be the spectator, or become the scene.

When one chooses to remain a spectator, that makes a poor pick, I must say!

Friday, September 16, 2011

She Spoke Of That Night

And as her breath caught the wasp of his freshly lit cigar, the swirl of smoke filled her senses with a sudden rush of realization. Her hands crawled to her sides to hold on to him. He was not there. Not close by to feel her. Her dewy eyes shot open. Panicked, she rose and saw him. Seated right beside the mirror... a stare from behind his spectacles reflected her image just as well as the cold mirror surface.

And in that candid. Plain. Unemotional, reflection. She saw herself. 
A brutally blunt reflection it was.

She stared. Not able to decide what struck her harder. The icicles that his gaze rode at, or the utter lack of abandon they seemed to mock at!

Her pores broke out in sweat, and this time it was not the heat of passion that had triggered that cold trickle down her body. Her eyes squinted, as her awareness began to drown beneath a surging wave of regret. 

'Maybe" ... "just maybe" ... "I was wrong. After all!" was the last thought she remembered before suffocating on that smoke. 


When the ocean surges,
don’t let me just hear it.
Let it splash inside my chest!


Thursday, September 15, 2011

Does It Make A Sound?

"If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?"

I began writing a tale, but then pressed backspace. 

The tale was rich. It steamed with emotions. But it had to ferment. Words, uttered before time, give off the steam and the essence stays back. The saline element of the moisture that floats in the eyes, and cuts through the heart, needs a little simmering to enrich the soul.

Why not hide it away in some forlorn nook of the heart, and let it stay there: unheard, unspoken of... never even whispered of! 
Let that tale's symphony keep on meddling with the rhythm of the heart. Always.

Hafiz says:

Don't surrender your loneliness
So quickly.
Let it cut more deep.

Let it ferment and season you

As few human
Or even divine ingredients can.

Something missing in my heart tonight
Has made my eyes so soft,
My voice
So tender,

My need of You

- Hafiz Shirazi


If no one is around to hear it, who knows if the tree ever fell or not?


And oh yes, by the way, steam contained within, could drive locomotives!

Wednesday, September 14, 2011


Pygmalion, in the ancient Greek mythology, is a sculptor who fell in love with the statue of the goddess Aphrodite he had carved.

As per the Mythology,
In time, Venus (Aphrodite)'s festival day came, and Pygmalion made offerings at the altar of Venus. There he quietly wished that his ivory sculpture would be changed to a real woman. When he returned home, he kissed his ivory statue and found that its lips felt warm. He kissed it again and touched her breasts with his hand and found that the ivory lost its hardness. Venus had granted Pygmalion's wish.

Source: wikipedia

Monday, September 12, 2011


Let me drown into a sea of sounds
Those raging waves,
That crashing force,
Let it devour all the thoughts;
Turn saline, all the sours
Let it turn murky 
the realization of reality 

Switch of the defogger
Let the rear view mirror never be clear
And for your life, never trust a No Fear!

Never. Be. Clear.


Stella Benson Says

"Call no man foe, but never love a stranger. "

Must Know...

A cheap ale makes a distasteful drink.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

And As I Looked At The Crystal Moon...

I want you to know

one thing. 

You know how this is: 
if I look 
at the crystal moon, at the red branch 
of the slow autumn at my window, 
if I touch 
near the fire 
the impalpable ash 
or the wrinkled body of the log, 
everything carries me to you, 
as if everything that exists, 
aromas, light, metals, 
were little boats 
that sail 
toward those isles of yours that wait for me. 

Well, now, 
if little by little you stop loving me 
I shall stop loving you little by little. 

If suddenly 
you forget me 
do not look for me, 
for I shall already have forgotten you. 

If you think it long and mad, 
the wind of banners 
that passes through my life, 
and you decide 
to leave me at the shore 
of the heart where I have roots, 
that on that day, 
at that hour, 
I shall lift my arms 
and my roots will set off 
to seek another land. 

if each day, 
each hour, 
you feel that you are destined for me 
with implacable sweetness, 
if each day a flower 
climbs up to your lips to seek me, 
ah my love, ah my own, 
in me all that fire is repeated, 
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, 
my love feeds on your love, beloved, 
and as long as you live it will be in your arms 
without leaving mine. 

- Pablo Neruda

Friday, September 9, 2011


Ever wonder why do they put age brackets on children toys?

A child needs to be of a specific age to understand the working of the toy, and enjoy it as such.

Such is the case of finer perfumes, and arts and music!
One needs to have developed senses, an eye, an ear for finery!

And same is the case with humans...

Develop into fine, to deserve to know the finer!

warna sir ko chaRh sakta hai ... 

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Salvaged To Silence

Have you ever been afraid of some thing?
Obviously, you have been. This is such a lame thing to ask! Okay, lemme rephrase it for you ... hmm ... lets try again:
Have you been afraid of something that doesn't exist outside your mind?

Now this got a bit tricky, aint it?
You bet!

Silence, at times could be such a thing ... Frightening. Haunting.
The usual lovers' discourses that take place between Love and a throbbing chest in silence, begin to shy away from solitude. 
One hunts in search of brash sounds to drown into. Like a loser lover heading to a pub for a cheap fix to douse his flame. or Candle.

What an unworthy trade!


Words. Words. Words.
And all devoid of the Purpose.
Meaningless sounds, too many of them.
Wasted momentss that could be spent in communion with the Beloved...

And as my heart grew heavier, burying down deeper under the rubble of the forlorn days... Yes, there has been one pick in these evenings.....
A few couple of moist smiling eyes and a gentle, soft, oh-so-tender whisper (-turned-kiss) "leenah aunty... ap bohat sweet hain... "

At times, a genuine heart felt smile is all you need to get back in touch with your own self. And the silence. And Beloved.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Inteha Iski Kahan Tak Hai

Khuda jane kahan se jalwaye jana kahan tak hai
Wahin tak dekh sakta hai nazar jiski jahan tak hai

Hum itni bhi na samjhe aql khoi dil gawan baithe
Ke husn o ishq ki duniya kahan se hai kahan tak hai

Zameen se aasman tak ek sannate ka aalam hai
Naheen maalum mere dil ki viraani kahaan tak hai

Zameen se aasman tak aasman se la makan tak hai
Khuda jane hamare ishq ki duniya kahan tak hai

Niyaz o naaz ki rudad husn o ishq ka qissa
Ye jo kuchh bhi hai sab unki hamari dastan tak hai

Khayal e yaar ne to aatay hi gum kar diya mujhko
Yahi hai ibteda to inteha iski kahan tak hai

Suna hai sufiyon se hamne aksar khanaqahon mein
Kay yeh rangeen bayani Bedam rangeen bayan tak hai

- Hazrat Bedam Shah Warsi