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Monday, February 20, 2012

Iss Basti Kay Ik Koochay Main...



If the above embedded video player doesn't work for you, try this one:





Parbat kay us par dais mein zindagi yun machalti thi jaisay shoakh pahaari jharnay... athlaati, khilkhilati, gungunati! 

Parbat ki bulandioon par basayra karti barf ki haakmiyat ko bus issi ik dais ki garamjoshi challenge karti thi; musalsal na khatum honay walla challenge! 

Har roaz aankhain moonday angraiyaan laita susst sa sooraj rooee kay gaaloon kay beech se us gahazbnaak malkaa ko daikhta, jiska sard-tar mizaaj us dais ki naqabal-e shikast baghawat par aag-bagoola hoay jata.


...

Nafrat ki ye aag itni pheli kay parbat ki bulandiooon se us sard-ro hakim ne us garm-khoo dais ko mitanay kay liay miti main milna gawara kar liya! 

Aik sailaab aya, aur basti ko baha kar le gaya ... 

Duur. Bohat duur. Nigah kay haq se bhi paray...


Basti, khaak nasheenoN ki thi. So, wo mitti main mitti ho gai.

Masla tou us sard saltanat ka hai...

Us sar-e pur-ghuroor ka jo mitti ko mitti main mila denay kay liay pani main beh gaya!


Ab kuch nahi jo parbat ki bulandioon par basayra karti us barf ki haakmiyat ko challenge karta ho. Laikin naajanay kion apnay seenay ki barfeeli khunki kay bawajood, us ka dil thunda kion nahi ho raha...



Ab hota koi Kabeer ka rung, tou raavi us hukmaraan ki fatah ka qisa likhta,

"bhala hoa mori matki phooti re..."


Lekin, ab, raavi us shoakh ahang dais ki mitti main mili zindagi ko dekhay ga aur iss shikast par sirf ye likhay ga...


"*Chal Khusro ghar aapnay, saanjh bheyo chahu des"




*Let's, O Khusru, head home now. The dusk settles all across now.



Friday, February 17, 2012

Ameen!




It was narrated from Anas ibn Maalik (may Allah be pleased with him) that the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) said:

اللهُمَّ لا سَهْلَ إلا مَا جَعَلتَهُ سَهْلا وَ أنتَ تَجْعَلُ الحزْنَ إذا شِئْتَ سَهْلا

O Allah! Nothing is easy but that which You make easy and You can make hardship easy if You will.”


َ.إِنَّكَ عَلَى مَا تَشَاءُ قَدِيرٌ وَ أَنْتَ حَسْـبُنَا اللَّهُ وَ نِعْمَ الْوَكِيلُ

“O Allah! You do whatever You wish, and You are my Availer and Protector and Best of aid.”

Thursday, February 16, 2012

And HE Beckoned


Aj subah mujhay Allah ji pe bohat pyar aya.. Bohat sara. I realized kay banda apnay zarf ka aseer hai, aur Maa'bood ka zarf Uski shaan hai!

Apparently, kuch aisa nahi hoa jo koi mark of achievement ho. Balkay rationally speaking, all that could/couldn't go wrong... went wrong.

Aur us waqt when, deeply distressed, I took up my sick, crying prince up in my arms and he hid his face in the crook of my neck, mujhay Allah ji pe bohat pyar aya.
My kid was in pain, and he came to me with all his guards down, convinced of my touch to heal him. That is exactly how we behave.

Pain, takleef are just a means to draw one close. Close to the One WHO is the healer.


Jab WOH khud apni panah, aur us main simat aanay kay jawaaz bhi de raha ho, tou kaun ho ga jo apnay naseeb pe nazaaN na ho!


Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Untitled


Illusions


It's awkward when you wake up with a start in the middle of a cold night, the realization hitting you faster than the darkness of the room, is that: There was a February 14 in 2003, as well!


'Time is an illusion', you must repeat to yourself. And go back to sleep.





Friday, February 10, 2012

Whats Your Reason?



Is it the scent of flowers dead since long, bringing one to revisit a mausoleum again & again. And again... Or is it the guilt of a kill?



The Holy Or The Broken ...





... Hallelujah 


Thursday, February 9, 2012

The Company




NOW, VERILY, it is We who have created man, and We know what his innermost self whispers within him: for We are closer to him than his neck-vein.

Al Quran 50:16

Thursday, February 2, 2012

When I Have Fears



When I have fears that I may cease to be  
  Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,  
Before high piled books, in charact’ry,  
  Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain;  
When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,  
  Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,  
And think that I may never live to trace  
  Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;  
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!  
  That I shall never look upon thee more,  
Never have relish in the faery power  
  Of unreflecting love!—then on the shore  
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think  
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.

- John Keats