Silver And Wine Mingle

Between us

twenty years of age

between your lips and my lips

when they meet and stay

the years collapse

the glass of a whole life shatters.

The day I met you I tore up

all my maps

and my prophecies

like an Arab stallion I smelled the rain

of you

before it wet me

heard the pulse of your voice

before you spoke

undid your hair with my hands

before you had braided it

There is nothing I can do

nothing you can do

what can the wound do

with the knife on the way to it?

Your eyes are like a night of rain

in which ships are sinking

and all I wrote is forgotten

In mirrors there is no memory.

God how is it that we surrender

to love giving it the keys to our city

carrying candles to it and incense

falling down at its feet asking

to be forgiven

Why do we look for it and endure

all that it does to us

all that it does to us?

Woman in whose voice

silver and wine mingle

in the rains

From the mirrors of your knees

the day begins its journey

life puts out to sea

I knew when I said

I love you

that I was inventing a new alphabet

for a city where no one could read

that I was saying my poems

in an empty theater

and pouring my wine

for those who could not

taste it.

When God gave you to me

I felt that He had loaded

everything my way

and unsaid all His sacred books.

Who are you

woman entering my life like a dagger

mild as the eyes of a rabbit

soft as the skin of a plum

pure as strings of jasmine

innocent as children's bibs

and devouring like words?

Your love threw me down

in a land of wonder

it ambushed me like the scent

of a woman stepping into an elevator

it surprised me

in a coffee bar

sitting over a poem

I forgot the poem

It surprised me

reading the lines in my palm

I forgot my palm

It dropped on me like a blind deaf

wildfowl

its feathers became tangled with mine

its cries were twisted with mine

It surprised me

as I sat on my suitcase

waiting for the train of days

I forgot the days

I traveled with you

to the land of wonder

Your image is engraved

on the face of my watch

It is engraved on each of the hands

It is etched on the weeks

months years

My time is no longer mine

it is you 

Nizar Qabbani

Rahbar Material

Whenever seeking people out to be a part of Rahbar - TCF's volunteer based mentoring initiative (https://www.facebook.com/TCF.Volunteer.Programmes/) - one of the most common barriers faced is the misconception that the guides/mentors (Rahbars, as we call them) have to be some super human, oh-out-of-this-world individuals!

The fact of the matter is, there is nothing farther from truth than this notion.  

Think of RAHBAR not as a mythical character from a hollywood flick who needs to have every possible achievement in his(/her) bag of goodies, but as earthly an individual as any (wo/)man of clay is made of. 

#Rahbar is someone

• who has seen failure,
• has an idea of how bitter disappointment tastes,
• has gone through ups and down
• YET
• has chosen to keep marching
• and is eager to take other people along as well

Do you see the picture? Mr. Incredible Hulk and Mr. Batman may very well not forward applications, thank you.

So, to help overcome the limiting fence of self doubt, here is a list of questions I thought I could put forward. Following is a set of a few YES/NO answer questions to let you see for your self if you maybe ignoring the Rahbar within you to come out ... Don't rush to reply, you yourself are the jury and the time-keeper.

Be kind to yourself in time-keeping and be honest in judging. :)

Here we go! 

1. My recipe of life includes my family as a basic ingredient. Yes or No?
2. Saying 'sorry' at the end of a conflict is a near death experience for me. Yes or No?
3. Life is an avalanche and not a D.I.Y (do it yourself) project. Yes or No?
4. My usual set of adjectives in everyday lingo is positive (wow... amazing ... wonderful ... etc etc). Yes or No?
5. The most important things in my life are objects. Yes or No?
6. I can't always be the best but I try my best not to cheat (people, emotions, laws, promises, etc.). Yes or No?
7. I think my individual contribution can play a role in shaping up the destiny. Yes or No?
8. I think that as a person, I've grown mature from where I was ten years ago. Yes or No?
9. I'd rather describe myself as a grateful person than a dissatisfied person. Yes or No?
10. I'd like me if I met me. Yes or No?

Now, as you score yourself let me share with you the link: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScWSLU50ktTsgg7zn8fMELPzRIbHk8acI152QxdFNZOlTdyEQ/viewform

Another Rahbar session is initiating this October, please fill in the form if the Rahbar in you wants to be a part of it! :) 

بھوک کا راجواڑ

My writing hand hasn't yet recovered from the sprain it suffered from at Eid, but I was dying to write something instead of typing it ... it adds to the feeling triggering the words, maybe like a drug inhaled direct? ;)

Baat maqdoor ki hai.

Par yahan sab bhookay hain, aur muyassar sab maya hai! 

:)

Yani total loss ki game hai sab. 

PS: please excuse for the difficulty you came across in reading it all. 

Sa'raey Shab

A night full of talking that hurts, 

my worst held-back secrets. 

Everything has to do with loving and not loving. 

This night will pass. 

Then we have work to do.

- Rumi

Credits: 
"The Essential Rumi", translated by Coleman Barks.

Let's ..

Lets go where colors sing, 

Where dreams dance! 

And where's that, love? 

In your eyes, 

In that glance!

The Chalice In The Heart

من و اکسير جام و جانِ جنون

تو و بيداری و چشمان افسون

من و مستی و اين پيمانہ ی دل

تو و تکليف اين دنيا ی کردون

حلمی

I, the elixir of drunkenness, and the spirit of craze

You, the wakefulness, and the charming form

I, intoxication, and this chalice in heart

You, and the bounds of this gyrating world

 inapt translation: mine

Ajal In Say Mil

Ajal in say mil

Kay ye sada dil 

Na ehl'e salat aur na ehl'e sharaab

Na ehle adab aur na ehl'e hiaab

Na ehl'e kitaab

Na ehl'e kitaab aur na ehl'e machin

Na ehl'e khala aur na ehl'e zameen

Faqat be yaqeen

Ajal, in say mat kar hijab

Ajal in say mil

Barho tum bhi aagay barho

Ajal se milo 

Barho nau tawngar gadao

Na kashkol dryoza gari chupao

Tumhein zindagi say koi rabt baqi nahi

Ajal se hanso aur ajal ko hansao

Barho bandagaan'e zamana, barho bandagaan'e deram

Ajal, ye sab insan manfi hein

Manfi zyada hein insan kam

Ho in par nigaah'e karm!

- Noon Meem Rashid

Ramzan Ramzain

Some random musings during the last few weeks, compiled here ...

Tamed fears make good steeds to fancy's flight.

تعصب سے بڑی بيماری کوئی نہيں، حسد سے بڑی بدنصيبی کوئی نہيں

Smooth sailing is not meant for grandeurous shores.

Keeping dignity is an inside job.

Don't settle for a mediocre relationship with Allah!

In the tradition of lovers, no one recognizes another's seal of kiss. Each wants his own seal...

چلی ہے رسم کہ تعزير ِ قاتلاں کے لئے

شہر ميں مقتول اب کوئی دفنايا نہ جأے گا

If a shell can hold within and transform a salty water droplet to a precious pearl, imagine what can your heart do!

Making friends or picking foes, one must never look below.

علمِ بیاں سے گذر کر ہے علمِ عیاں

طلبِ صبر، نہايت صبر طلب مرحلہ

Genuinity kay musallas kay teen konay hain: Aik Allah. Aik maa. Aik apna aap. The holy trinity!

If you have a song, don't hold it in wait of Spring.

Moments of absolute void come with the most promising possibilities of fulfillment.

Stop those who kill in the name of sect. No God sells Jannah against the blood of innocents.

رقصاں جو شعلے پر يہ پروانے ہيں

ان ميں سے کس سکھ پايا ہے؟

Funerals are the best courses to learn about life.

بدنصيب ہيں وہ عبادت گاہيں جن کی زيبائی کے سبب لوگ انہيں ٹورسٹ سپاٹ بنا ليں

نہ ادھر جلتی سانس سے دہکتی دعا طلب کی جاتی ہے، نہ ہی  پيشانی ميں سجدے مچلتے ہيں.ايسی عبادت گاہوں کے بھاگ انکے صحن کی طرح خالی ہوتے ہيں

1st rule of an argument: 

If you find the need to go personal to prove your point, your argument is null and void. Maybe so is the idea.

اصل مفلس وہ ہے جس کے پاس دينے کے لئيے صرف جھوٹ ہوـ

When you carve your gods, don't forget your divine dust.

One's aura is an offshoot of one's thoughts.

جب حد سے بڑھی طالب کی طلب، طالب خود مطلوب ہوا

No seeker sets out to search, save the one who already has the Treasure.

Isn't it a fact that our quick, instant-mixture, life recipe has robbed us of the pleasure of real food for thought?

جس نظر کو جس نظارے کی طلب ہوتی ہے، اسے وہی نظارہ ملتا ہے ... ديدہ ورکو صنمکدے ميں ديدِ إلہی ہو گئی، نابينا کو کعبہ ميں پتھر ملا!

Hisaab-e Umr Ka Goshwara

Was going through my just received Bank statement document and it struck me strong ... Hamaray hisaab-e umr ka bhi aik aisa hi goshwara ho ga: Credits, Debits, Balance.

What a spine chilling thought - every word, every decision, EVERY action is a transaction being documented under either of the two columns: Credits or Debits! 

There's nothing, N.o.t.h.i.n.g. that goes unnoticed. Nada! 

Do you see how serious is this??

Thinking of the credits I made today.

And debits!

Khudaya, rehm kun bar mun! 

Bring Me Meanings

It's been a while that I had a dream. Dreams are my means to reconnect with what is Real, True. 

Dreams bring me omens. They help me chalk out my course of action. They make me expect what I need to expect.

And in their absence I am blind folded. 

I haven't been writing since words have the power to bare your soul. What and how much can you reveal when you're blind folded and are entrapped in ether? 
You won't see, you won't hear, you won't feel. 

I need an omen. And I need to hear some sound, like the crackling of wood in a burning fire. 

This quiet has stretched far too long ... Six months!

I don't even know if its a dark night of soul... Because there were ways in which there was some connection. The current flowed, with interruptions. For example with darood-e taaj...

Yet. Kuch amiss hai. Kaafi kuch, actually.

Or maybe its just that I'm not accustomed to this fine tuned, inner calm? :) 

I think I'm growing deaf of the silence. 

I need a dream. I need an omen. 

God's world must still hold some meanings... 

The Grand Play Field

در فراخ عرصۂ آں پاک جاں

تنگ آید عرصۂ ہفت آسماں

-  مولانا رومیؒ

In the heart of the pure is such extent

Heavens seven, are but pent 

Verse: Rumi

Inapt translation: mine

Raising Toast To The Day!

The best love in the world, is the love of a man. The love of a man who came from your womb, the love of your son! I don't have a daughter, but maybe the love of a daughter is the best, too. I am first and foremost me, but right after that, I am a mother. The best thing that I can ever be, is me. But the best gift that I will ever have, is being a mother.

― C. JoyBell C.

What Are They like?

And this made me laugh and cry at the same time ... :)

Voice Of The Moon

“Music is the language of the spirit. It opens the secret of life bringing peace, abolishing strife.” 

― Khalil Gibran

"Abolishing strife", I vouch for it!

Disclose To Me, I Pray Thee, O Love, Thy Secret

I have loved in life and I have been loved. 

I have drunk the bowl of poison from the hands of love as nectar, 

and have been raised above life's joy and sorrow. 

My heart, aflame in love, set afire every heart that came in touch with it. 

My heart has been rent and joined again; 

My heart has been broken and again made whole;

My heart has been wounded and healed again;

A thousand deaths my heart has died, and thanks be to love, it lives yet.

I went through hell and saw there love's raging fire,

and I entered heaven illumined with the light of love.

I wept in love and made all weep with me;

I mourned in love and pierced the hearts of men;

And when my fiery glance fell on the rocks, the rocks burst forth as volcanoes.

The whole world sank in the flood caused by my one tear;

With my deep sigh the earth trembled, and when I cried aloud the name of my beloved,

I shook the throne of God in heaven.

I bowed my head low in humility, and on my knees I begged of love,

"Disclose to me, I pray thee, O love, thy secret."

She took me gently by my arms and lifted me above the earth, and spoke softly in my ear,

"My dear one, thou thyself art love, art lover,

and thyself art the beloved whom thou hast adored.”

― Hazrat Inayat Khan, The Dance of the Soul

We, The Music Makers Kuch Ghazlon Kay

Just this morning I came across this poem:

“We are the music-makers,

And we are the dreamers of dreams,

Wandering by lone sea-breakers,

And sitting by desolate streams.

World-losers and world-forsakers,

Upon whom the pale moon gleams;

Yet we are the movers and shakers,

Of the world forever, it seems.”

- Arthur O'Shaughnessy

Yes ... read it again ...

“We are the music makers, 

and we are the dreamers of dreams.” 

Do you, too, hear Fareeda Khanum's voice in your head:

Hum naghma sara kuch ghazlon kay, hum soorat gar kuch khwaboN kay

Such an uncanny resemblance! no? :) 

Like the baffling bright of a spring sun, or the sad crisp of the autmn leaves, like the haunting pale of moon, truth is independent of cultures, or languages .

The pains, the pleasures, the dreams, the schemes, of those in love, are just the same all across the world ...

:) Baat phir waheen aa kar rukti hai kay ... bay-jazba'ay shauq sunaein kia? Koi khwab na ho tou bataein kia?

Wo Ishq Jo Hum Say Rooth Gaya - Fareeda Khanum

Uff.. haey .. ufff ... etc. etc. :)

Counting On It

“The books we need are the kind that act upon us like a misfortune, that makes us suffer like the death of someone we love more than ourselves, that make us feel as though we were on the verge of suicide, or lost in a forest remote from all human habitation—a book should serve as the axe for the frozen sea within us.”

- Kafka in a letter to Oskar Pollak.

I hope so.

Desire - The Root, Or The Fruit?

There are words that have the piercing potential of a hunter's stabbing spear. Following few words stabbed with such a force, that even after a couple of days gone by I don't think I've come to terms with the severity of the blow yet! :) 

حضرت جنيد بغدادیؒ ميں معرفت کے اعلی ترين مقام پر ہونے کے باوجود کمال کا ضبط و متانت تھی، اس کے برخلاف شبلیؒ ميں جوش، بےصبری اور بےقراری تھی۔ مرشد اور مريد کی طبيعتوں کے اس اختلاف کے باعث کبھی ايسا ہوتا کہ آپے سے باہر ہونے والے مريد کو مرشد اپنی باطنی قوت سے روک ديتا اور کبھی يہ ديکھنے ميں آتا کہ مريد کی باتوں سے مرشد خود تڑپ اٹھتا!

ايک دن دورانِ گفتگو حضرت جنيدؒ نے فرمايا: مَن طَلَبَ وَجَدَ (جس نے ڈھونڈ ليا، پا ليا)۔

شبلیؒ بولے: جناب يوں نہيں، يوں فرمائيے مَن وَجَدَ طَلَبَ (جس نے پايا وہی طالب ہوا)۔ 

شبلی کی اس بات پر مرشد بھی سرشار ہو گئے۔

 - (بحوالہ کشف المحجوب)

Hazrat Junaid Baghdaadi main maarfat kay aala tareen muqaam par honay kay baawajood kaamaal ka zabt aur matanat thi, is kay bar-khilaaf Shibli main josh, bay-sabri aur bay-qaraari thi. Murshid aur Mureed ki tabyetoN kay is ikhtelaaf kay baais kabhi aisa hota kay aapay say bahir hotay Mureed ko Murshid apni baatani que=wat say roak deta, aur kabhi ye dekhnay main aata kay Mureed ki baaton say Murshid khud tarap uthta!

Aik din doraan-e guftagu, Hazrat Junaind nay farmaya: Mun Talaba Wajada ( jis ne dhoond lia, paa lia).

Shibli bolay: janab yun nahi, yun farmaiay Mun Wajada Talaba (Jis nay paya, wohi talib hoa).
Shibli ki is baat par Murshid bhi sarshaar ho gaey!

At the end of the day, Desire may only be a fruit? 

Where's the seed then?

Not in my hand.

Divine Mercy .... I call unto Thee!

Till My Words Return To Me - Habla Me

For a couple of months now there have been quite a few pregnant thoughts and unborn stories that await being touched... you know, touching with fingers - the kind of touch that grants existance to thought from electrical pulses within neurons into the world of binary reality.

So much going on at such a whirlwind pace, at times I wonder if there's a way to make things go slow. Or to make words be born a little more easily? ...  So that they eat up less onto your heart in their efforts to survive the trauma of coming into existance.

Till the time my words return to me and let me touch them as I please, to my fill, I can only raise a toast to them ...

(Translation via web)

Talk to me

Like I flirt with you

Love me

Like I love you

It's a love that is possible

For I kept what love I had

I kept what love I had

It's like a film, and it will return

Love me

Like I flirt with you

Love me

Like I love you

It's a love that is possible

For I kept what love I had

I kept what love I had

It's like a dream, and it will return

And you will come to see

That there is no understanding

For I kept what love I had

I kept what love I had

It's like a dream, and it will return

I know that you will return, and love will not end

For I kept what love I had

I kept what love I had

It's like a dream, and it will return

Or so I hope! :) 

Waheen Tak Hai Jiski Nazr Jahan Tak Hai

اہلِ نظر جانتے ہيں کہ تماشا اور تماشائی ايک ہی شے ہے ـ تماشا لگانے والا خود تماشائی کے رنگ ميں ہے۔ وہ خود ہی ہے، خود آئينہ ہے، خود نظر ہے اور خود ہی خود کے روبرو ہے۔

ـاز واصف علی واصف

Ehl-e nazr jaantay hain kay tamasha aur tamashaee aik hi shaey hai. Tamasha laganay wala Khud, tamashaee kay rung main hai. Wo Khud hi hai, Khud aeena hai, Khud nazr hai aur Khud hi Khud kay rubaru hai.

- Wasif Ali Wasif

Almost

I almost wish we were

butterflies and lived but

three summer days -- 

three such days with you I

could fill with more delight

than fifty common years 

could ever contain.

- Keats

You - The Treasure Chest

You are a volume in the divine book
A mirror to the power that created the universe
Whatever you want, ask it of yourself
Whatever you’re looking for can only be found
Inside of you. 

Rumi

Who Are You? You.

Aaeena  Toee, aks Toee!

Hallaj said:

Love is in the pleasure of possession, but in the Love of Allah there is no pleasure of possession, because the stations of the Reality are wonderment, the cancelling of the debt which is owed, and the blinding of vision. The Love of the human being for God is a reverence which penetrates the very depths of his being, and which is not permitted to be given except to Allah alone. The Love of Allah for the human being is that He Himself gives proof of Himself, not revealing Himself to anything that is not He.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And Allah says: "I have chosen thee for Myself." (20:41). 

Deen Shab Ke Mi Rafti ButaaN

Sarmad dard-e ajab shikast'e kardi
Eeman ba fida'ay chashm-e mast'e kardi
Umr'e ke be ayaat o ahadees guzasht
Rafte-o-nisar'e butparast'e kardi


Deen shab ke mi rafti butaaN, rooh karda azma yuk taraf
Afganda kakul yuk taraf zulf'ay jaleefaaN ek taraf

Az chashm-e siyaah-dari toh ab surma burud kardi
kaha zaalim che haan kardi falah andar bala kardi


Sultan-e khoobaaN meerawad har su hujoom-e aashna
Chaabuk sawaraaN yuk taraf miskeeN gadaya yuk taraf

Nausheen sharab e lala o shud majils e ma bekhabar
jaam o suraahi yuk taraf mastaaN o rusva yak taraf

Tabar rukh'e zebaya toh uftada zahid ra nazar
tasbiyeh zohdash yuk taraf, bada musallah yuk taraf


Bechara Khusro khasta ra mashoor-e khutan farmood ast
Khalq'e ba millat yuk tarf, ma'shooq tanha yuk taraf

Translation: 

The unending pain has left me strangely wretched
At one intoxicating glance, I lost my faith to you
My life is now a tale of the past
Spent, sacrificed at the alter of the deity - you!

Spent my night in the company of idols, 
A talk of soul, perhaps some time else.
Beauty of Silken locks is one thing, 
But tresses of the beloved, something else!

From the black of your eyes, 
kohl was rendered black
Of ruthless you, 
so generous your mercilessness is!

Lord of the fair-faced arrives, 
Hordes of lovers on every side
Esteemed sentinels are close by, 
the poor beggars at distance wide

Whilst delirious was I, 
Kept gathering afloat with wine.
Grail and ale at one end, 
But tipsy and drunken on the other!

A glimpse of the beloved's charming form 
afflicts the pious such
the hymns of piety are one thing, 
a drunken's worship an other!

O ye poor wretched Khusro -  
Of Khutan, said so already
An assembly of the folks at one end, 
the beloved alone at the other!

Verse: Ameer Khusro
Inept translation: mine