Now this is good stuff:D

Were there any music in curves

Your form on the balcony

Would be a joyous symphony

Sure to shake Vivaldi’s nerves.

My apologies if you don't like the reference to Ghalib....

Is ku hijr na wisaal kahiey

Izhaar-e-shauq kamaal kahiey

Zulf sar honey ke muntizir

Aur umr bhar na haal kahiey

Kaash...

Rat jagey se kisi ne kia paya hai

Who aaj phir thak kar sub’h ghar aiya hai

Mulla draata hai jaan ke janey se magar

Farz hai karna jo batil mun mein aiya hai

Yeh aakhri baazi bhi khel hi jao *Hosh

guNwaney ku tum ne kia bachaya hai?

Emergency

Kehtey hain:

"Khamosh raho tu sukhi raho ge

Ghar mein raho tu sukhi raho ge

Kitabon mein jo tum ne seekha hai

Bhool jao tu sukhi raho ge

Sola crore jo bhooke mar rahe hain

Marney do, tu sukhi raho ge"

They say:

"Stay silent and no harm will come to you.

Stay at home and no harm will come to you.

Whatever you have learned from your books,

Forget it and no harm will come to you.

The millions that are dying of hunger,

Let them die and no harm will come to you."

Insaaf per nafiz nazar-bandi hai

DiloN ke milne pe pabandi hai

ZubanoN pe taale laga rahe hain

Niyyat in hukamranoN ki gandi hai

Justice has been detained

And meeting of hearts restrained,

The tongues have been padlocked,

Intentions of these rulers are stained.

kia yeh aik mushkil faisla hai?

kia ab bhi intizaar ki gunjaish hai?

Is it a difficult decision?

Is there still time to wait?

Nahi chahiey mujhe yeh

Sisk'ti hoi lachaar zindagi

Dari hoi, murda, bekaar zindagi

I am sick of this life:

This woeful, helpless life,

This scared, dead, meaningless life.

Bohat kos chuke tareekh ko

Bohat pooj chuke iblees ko

Haq ki roshnai jab ragoN mein ho

Farz hai badlna taqdeer ko

Enough of criticizing history!

Enough of worshipping lies!

For when the truth runs in your veins

It's binding to change your destiny

Jeena hai tu dil se jeo

Dil ki baat her bol ke jeo

Jin haathoN mein bandoqeiN hain

Mal-e-haraam ki sandooqeiN hain

Un zalim hathoN ku tor ke jeo

Dil ki baat her bol ke jeo"

Want to live? Live by your heart,

Live, by expressing the truths of your heart

The hands that have guns for oppression,

The hands that have the wealth of corruption,

Live, by shattering those suppressive hands.

I don't know as well...

But burdened with too much in your head? bibi tum London mein bhi preshan si kiuyn ho? "I dont know..." you'd say, and probably that IS the right answer.... because life is always this complicated... but this burden starts feeling on your head only when you are unable to resign yourself to it, to surrended to it... it looks like a rebellion initially, but since the victory is at best a reconciliation, this rebellion is no more than the futile effort of Sisyphus to reach the top and stay there. He'd never stay.

Some people do solve the jigsaw, but in an instantaneous epiphany. You can't look for it, or worry about it. It comes like a divine blessing. If there were any other way, the thousands of philosophers in the last two thousand years would have found it.

Time - a cruel consolation

I came across this small epilogue in an Italian movie I watched last night.... it's quite romantic and has a line from Neruda's poem "me gustas cuando callas":)

"My friend, my confidant: don’t despair for me, or wish me well. I’ll learn to live without you. I’ll learn to breathe again, and follow my schedules. It’s just a matter of time before I’d have rationalized my love for you, and it’s just a matter of time before you’d have rationalized your sympathy for me, and soon we would have all the explanations we don’t have now.

Time is a cruel consolation: it relieves the pain, but relishes in scars. It’ll relieve us of our pains too, and teach us to embellish our scars – perhaps for its own debauchery, but to our advantage as well. I’ll be content with secondary advantages and, perhaps, you’ll discover new interests too.

But I still can’t help but be honest with you, and tell you, even though “my voice does not reach you”, that I might very well live on and learn to breath and follow my schedule, but I’d never be able to comfort in my scars."

I will write a novel someday

"I must admit it's a dilemma.... I have only myself to amuse me, but it's intellectually much more productive than any alternative... should I cry or laugh?"


p.s. I like to put quotation marks around my own words - they are written with great care and respect:)

Circular arguments

inspired by Breakfast at Tiffany's...

Ishq-yaabi-o-raqeebi ke gur tu seekhe the,
Mera raqeeb kambakht saccha ashiq nikla!

Tu Phir

Woh sab payar bhare khat
Likhe agar jaatey tu phir?

Us t'weel farhang main
Ma'ani bhi hotey tu phir?

Hum rashk-e-Qais-o-Farhad
Laiq-e-ishq hotey tu phir?

Imakanaat ki bhagdar main
Makeen-e-shauq ho jaatey tu phir?

Itna mat sochna tum Mirza
Tumhain bhi deir ho gai tu phir!

I do not love you...

I admit I have stopped loving you:
That fresh jasmine face,
Which I bore in my arms through so many nights
In sweet sleeplessness,
And tendered with utmost care,
Does not haunt me anymore.
I do not miss those tales
of passion and allusions –
Allusions to you and me –
That you used to tell
While waiting for sunset (or, for moonrise,
But you never stayed so late).
Nor do I love that shy smile
That tempted me into that...

Why, I am a sensible man.
I know when to let go.
Your name is like an epitaph -
To be read only with silent respect.

But why does it make me anxious,
Whenever I hear it in random discussions,
Or read it… in my rusted memoirs,
Even in someone else’s name?
Why is it that any other face,
Any other smile,
Or allusion,
Falls like rain on barren land?
And who can account for that abstract company -
That idle apparition -
That distracts me in a most intense conversation?
(I felt lost during my job interview yesterday!)
I wish it were a disease
Which I could find a cure for,
And let myself go as well.