गज़ल – Ghazal

(१) ढलती शामों के उलझे साये में परवाज़ भी है

गुज़री रातों की सियाही में छुपा आज भी है

(२) मुर्दा चीखों में सुलगता है आनेवाला कल

बुझते शोलों में उम्मीदों का ईक आगाज़ भी है

(३) हैं कई दौर छुपे उम्र की गहराई में

हम हैं, तुम हो, और कई राज़ भी हैं

(४) बुत्कशी इल्म कभी, गर्दिश-ए-एहसास कभी

है अज़ां शोर कभी, कभी दाउद की आवाज़ भी है

(५) कह दो अपने खुदा से कल ना मुझॆ दिखलाए

झूठे वादों से शायर को ऐतराज़ भी है

dhalti shamon ki uljhe saaye mein parwaaz bhi hai
guzri raaton ki siyaahi mein chupa aaj bhi hai

murda cheekhon mein sulagta hai aane wala kal
bujhte sholon mein umeedon ka ik aagaaz bhi hai

hain kaii dauur chupe umR ki gehraii mein
hum hain, tum ho, aur koi raaz bhi hai

butKashi ilm kabhi, gardish-e-ehsaas kabhi
hai azaan shor kabhi, kabhi dawood ki awaaz bhi hai

keh do apne khuda se kal na mujhe dikhlaaye
jhoothe waadon se shayar ko aitraaz bhi hai

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Woh Jiski Deed Mein – Faiz by Abida

Have been meaning to write out this beautiful ghazal – Wo jiski deed mein…Again,a FAIZ-ABIDA combination… companion for a quiet evening.. Here is a feeble attempt at translating it – (with special thanks to DigDownDeep

Woh jiski deed mein laakhoun masarratein pinhaaan
Woh husn jiski tamanna mein jannat pinhaan

Just for a look at her, I have lost a million joys
And its the desire of her beauty, that I let go of my Prophet

Hazaar fitney tah-e-paa-e-naaz khaak-e-nasheen
Har eik nigaah khumar-e-shabaab se rangeen

Shabaab jis se takhaiyul pe bijliyaan barsein
Waqaar jiski rafaqat ko shokhiyaan tarsey

A thousand temptations rise and fall, with every delicate footprint of hers
In every eye, the colored dreams of her youthful beauty lie

The mere thought of her youth, strikes me from the heavens above
Yet my innocent mischievousness seeks the solemnity of her companionship

Ada-e-laghzisheiy paa par qyamatein qurbaan
Bayaz-e-rukh pey sahar ki sabahatein qurbaan

Siyaah zulfoun mein badaaon sa nikhatoun ka hujoom
Taweel raatoun ki khwabeedah raahatoun ka hujoom

In the delicacy of those misplaced feet, I can sacrifice eternities
To read a leaf, off the book of her face, I can let go of the morning wine

From her dark tresses, the intoxicating fragrance of wine lures,
Like the dreamy long nights and the promise of tranquility

Woh aankh jiski banao pe khaliq dey raae
Zabaan-e-shair ko tareef kartey sharmaae

Gudaaz jism qaba jispe sajke naaz karey
Daraaz qad jisey sarw-e-sahi namaz karey

The shape of her eyes is brooded over by the Almighty
And the poets finds themselves inadequate at praising her beauty

Whatever she wears is honored by the fall off her buxom body
Her tall personality is worshipped by the rich and the fakir

Kisi zamaney mein is rah-guzar sey guzraa thaa
Ba-sad guroor-o-tajammul idhar sey guzraa thaa

Aur ab ye raah guzar bhi hai dilfareb-o-haseen
Hai uski khaak mein kaif-e-sharab-e-sair makeen

There was a time, when I had cross these streets
And so full I was of pride and magnificence

But the times have changed, and these very streets allure me
As even your dust carries the exhilaration of wine and intoxication

Hawa mein shokhi-e-raftaar ki adaaein hain
Faza mein narmi-e-guftaar ki sadaen hain

Garaz vo husn is raah ka juzu-e-manzar hai
Niyaz-e-ishq kou eik sajda gaah maiyassar hai

The air is full of the coquettishness of youth and agility
The weather seems full of the warmth of a conversation

And the pursuit of her beauty is what the heart craves to witness
a mosque is never too far for a prayer of love


Some of the key words and their meanings –
Masarrat: Happiness, Joy; Pinhaan: Concealed, Hidden; Tah : Plait, fold, multiplicity, perplexity; Fitnaa: Sedition, Mischief, Quarrel, Revolt, Temptation, Wickedness; Naaz : coquetry, amorous playfulness; Shabaab: Juvenility, Youth ; takhaaiyul : imagination, fancy ; Waqaar : Solemnity ;rafāqat : companionship, society, friendship ; Shokhiyaan : Coquetry, Mischief, Restlessness; Laghzish: Blunder, Lapse, Mistake, Tottering ; Bayaaz: Album, Handbook, Notebook, Vade Mecum; Sahaba : Wine, Esp. Red Wine ; Rukh : Face, Cheek, Side ; Siyaah :Black, Dark ; Baadaa : Booze, Wine ; Nikhat: Fragrance; Hujoom: Assault, Attack, Crowd, Onset, Throng, Tumult ; Taweel: Extended, Lengthy, Long ; Raahat : Quiet, rest, repose, ease, tranquillity; Banaao : Appearance, form, shape, colour, Adornment; Khaliq : The Great Creator, the Originator ;Gudaaz: Well-Mixed, Well-endowed ;Daraaz : Long, tall; Qaba: Gown, Long Coat Like Garment ;Sarw : Affluent, Opulent, Rich, Wealthy; Sahi : A religious mendicant, a Mohammadan faqīr; Tajammul : Dignity, pomp, splendour, magnificence; guroor : pride, vanity, haughtiness; Ba-sad : by a hundred; Dil fareb : Alluring, Beautiful, Charming, Enticing; Sair : Walk, Excursion, Stroll; Makeen : Firmly fixed; well-established;–in a high station; Kaif: exhilaration, Happiness, Intoxication, Joy; Fiza ; Atmosphere, Environment; guftaar : discourse, conversation ; Raftaar: Going, motion, walk, gait, pace; Shokhi : Playfulness, fun, mischief; pertness, sauciness; coquetry, wantonness; Garaz: An object of aim or pursuit, or of desire; aim, end, object, design, view, purpose; Manzar: Aspect, Countenance, Landscape, Scene, Visage ; Niyaz : Petition, supplication, prayer; Mayassar: easy, feasible, practicable; favourable

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Old Wine…

Some very old stuff written by me in 2003-04.

*************************

In prismic prose
The rainbow flew down
Yet I couldn’t find
The Color of my heart…………..

********************

The poet in me
Woke up
This fine morning,
As he called my name…
And lord!
Why aren’t mornings
Always the same……………….

************

One man’s destiny
Attached to another
Feather by feather
Makes me fly
This endless joy
Of you being you
And you being the one
What’s so special
That drives me insane
Takes me away
From things so mundane
Why isn’t everyone
Soo like you
Why ain’t the sky
Always blue…………….

****

Freedom
Perfection
Words
Desires
“I believe”
Is all I need?
Hold my hand
For a moment today
There is no such place
As far away………………

….

behind every painting
bad or beautiful
there lies
a sheet in white
which owes no allegiance
to anyone’s might
yet the sheet is torn
into pieces
everytime
it doesnt sing
the mightier one’s rhyme!

Those sixes… Poetry in Motion!

Ah! Those sixes
Sailing into the crowd
They made my day, my night too
Sailing into the crowd

Sweet revenge
Of a day gone bad
A memory I wish I never had

They sailed then too
They sailed today as well
I got them on the mainstream today
They got me on the filler.. well..

We saved the back.. back then…
We packed the punch today…
And so my blow seems bigger
The job was better done today

I said then – God it ain’t fair
I need my chance too now!
Oh my son!, God said – here is your turn
Make the whole world bow!

Some heaves, some cuts
Some classical lofts
Some outside in, some inside outs

Higher and higher, and a touch little higher
‘fore sailing in the crowd

My wait weight behind a few of them
My elegance marking some
Some brutal in their execution
Excitement marking some

I had no brawl back then
But a joker made me lose my cool
The king.. oops.. joker got slammed for one
Bawling on the full

The last one too.. the seventh heaven
Was just to please the crowd
And up she went, like a twinkling fairy
Sailing into the crowd…

थकान… Fatigue

autumn_morning.jpg

एक थका शरीर,
एक थके हुए िज्स्म की थकी तहरीर,
ईक थकी हुइ कहानी के थके िकरदार,
थकी थकी सी िफ़ज़ाओंं में बेनूर से रंग िबखरे हुए
जैसे थके हुए मौसम की खबर सुनाती हुई ईक  थकी हुई सी आवाज़
बहोत दूर से आ रही हो
कुछ ऎसी ही थकी हुई, ठह्री हुई रूह से िमलने को
जब ईक और थका हुआ िजस्म आता है
ईक थकी हुई आहट पैदा होती है
ईक थका हुआ एहसास मुकम्मल होता है

A tired body,
and the tired handwriting of a tired existence
like the tired characters of a worn-out story
like the colorless colors of a tired life
like the tired voice of the bearer of a fruitless season’s news

And so.. when a tired, drained out soul like this
meets another tired one
You can hear the footprints of a tired walk
You can feel the pulses of a tired emotion..

Tanhai

ईतना थक जाउंगा आइने से बातें कर के
क्या खबर थी की तन्हाई यूं खाली होगी

केहते हैं वो िक तन्हाई नहीं होती खला
िफर मेरा ईश्क, तेरी सोच ही ज़ाली होगी

चंद अफसाने, कई चेह्रॆ, और दो नम आंखें
गमज़दा दौर की कुछ और सच्चाई होगी

Inta thak jaoonga aaine se baatein kar ke
Kya khabar thee ki tanhai yun khali hogi

Kehte hain wo ki tanhai nahi hoti khala
Phir mera ishq, teri soch hi jali hogi

Chand afsaane, kai chehre, aur do nam aankhein
Gamzada daur ki kuch aur sachai hogi..

One of my all-time favs

A ghazal that I dont have the MP3 of.. and I have been desperately searching for it..

Movie: Mammo (1994) Director: Shyam Benegal

Farida Jalal is awesome in this movie. and this song is just pure simple awesome!

 

Lyrics –
ये फ़ासले तेरी
गलियों के हमसे तय न हुए -२
हज़ार बार रुके हम
हज़ार बार चले -२
Ye faasle teri galiyon ke, humse taiy na hue… Hazar baar ruke hum, hazaar baar chale…

ना जाने कौन सी मट्टी
वतन की मट्टी थी
नज़र में धूल, जिगर
में लिये गुबार चले
Na jaane kaun si mitti watan ki mitti thee, nazar mein dhool, jigar mein liye gubar chale
हज़ार बार रुके हम
हज़ार बार चले -२

ये कैसी सरहदें उलझी
हुई हैं पैरों में -२
हम अपने घर की तरफ़ उठ
के बार बार चले
ye kaisi sarhadein uljhi hui hain pairon mien, hum apne ghar ki taraf uth ke baar baar chale
हज़ार बार रुके हम
हज़ार बार चले -२

ना रास्ता कहीं ठहरा,
ना मंजिलें ठहरी -२
ये उम्र उडती हुई
गर्द में गुज़ार चले
na raasta kahin thehra na manzilein thehrin, ye umr udti hui gard mein guzaar chale..
हज़ार बार रुके हम
हज़ार बार चले -२
hazar baar ruke hum hazar baar chale…

ये फ़ासले तेरी
गलियों के हमसे तय न हुए
हज़ार बार रुके हम
हज़ार बार चले
ye faasle teri galiyon ke humse taiy na hue, hazar baar ruke hum hazaar bar chale

Courtesy: link

Gul Hui Jaati Hai : Faiz

This is one of the most beautiful Faiz compositions that I have heard. With Abida Parveen’s voice adding soul to these beautiful words, its the perfect setting for a nice quiet evening. I have seen a lot of people wondering about what the ghazal means. Thats when I thought I should just write this bit out. Listen it here

गुल हुई जाती है अफ़सुर्दा सुलगती हुई शाम
धुल के िनक्लेगी अभी चश्म-ए-माहताब से रात
और मुश्ताक िनगाहों की सुिन जाएगी
और उन हाथों से मस होंगे ये तरसे हुए हाथ

Gul hui jaati hai afsurda sulagti hui shaam
Dhul ke niklay gi abhi chashma-e-mahtab se raat
Aur mushtaaq nigaahon ki suni jaaye gi
Aur un hathon se mas hongay yeh tarse huay haath….

The morose evening is lost in the silhouette of a fading sun
But soon, it will come out bathed in the moonlit night
And those eager eyes will be heard to, one more time
and these longing fingers will be entwined with those fingers again

उन का आंचल है िक रुखसार िक पैराहन है
कुछ तो है िजस से हुई जाती है िचलमन रंगीन
जाने उस ज़ुल्फ़ िक मौहूम घनी छावं में
िटमिटमाता है वो आवेज़ा अभी तक के नही

Un ka aanchal hai ke rukhsaar keh payrahan hai…
Kuch to hai jis se hui jaati hai chilman rangeen…
Jaanay us zulf ki mauhoom ghani chaaoon mein…
Timtimataa hai woh aawayzah abhi tak keh nahi…

Is this the decorated end of your sari, or the colors on your face, or the way you’ve dressed
There has to be something, that has made the curtains (that hide you) so colorful
I wonder, if in the thick dark tresses of her long hair,
does it(the moon) still twinkle, hanging, suspended, still yearning for thee?

आज िफर हुस्न-ए-िदल-अारा की वो ही धज होगी
वो ही ख्वाबीदा सी आंखें वो ही काज़ल की लकीर
रंग-ए-रुखसार पे हल्का सा वो गाज़े का गुबार
सन्द्ली हाथों पे धुन्धिल सी िहना की तहरीर

Aaj phir husn-e-dil aaraa ki wohi dhaj hogi…
Wohi khaabeedah si aankhein wohi kaajal ki lakeer…
Rang-e-rukhsaar pe halka sa woh gaazay ka ghubaar…
Sandali haathon pe dhundli si hina ki tehreer…

Tonite, the beauty of my beloved will show itself in the same resplendent glory
Those dreamy eyes, and those black eyelashes
the color of her cheeks flushed with the pink of roses (cosmetics/powder)
and those hands smelling of sandal, decorated with beautiful Hina designs

अपने अफ्कार के अशआर िक दुिनया है यही
जान-ए-मज़मून है ये शािहद-ए-माना है यही
अपन मौज़ू-ए-सुखन इन के िसवा और नही
तब्बा शायर का वतन इन कॆ िसवा और नही

Apnay afkaar ki ashaar ki duniya hai yehi…
Jaanay mazmoon hai yehi, shahid-e-ma’anaa hai yehi…
Apna mauzoo-e-sukhan inke siva aur nahi
Tabba shayar ka vatan inke siva aur nahin


This is the world of the couplets and my thoughts

Such is the essense of my writings, such is the fate of this doomed poet.
there is no other subject of my conversataions,
The mood of the poet wanders in no other kingdom but that of the beloved

ये खूं की महक है िक लब-ए-यार िक खुशबू
िकस राह की जािनब से सबा आती है देखो
गुलशन मे बहार आई के िज़न्दा हुआ आबाद
िकस संग से नगमों की सदा आती है देखो

Yeh Khoon Ki mahak hai ki labe yaar ki khushboo
Kis raah ki – Jaanib se saba aati hai dekho
Gulshan mein bahar bahaar aayi ki zinda hua abad
Kis sang se naghmon ki sada aati hai dekho


Is this the warm smell of blood, or the sweet fragrance of beloved’s lips

From which direction is this wind blowing, someone go and check
Can you feel, with the arrival of spring, that the estranged have come alive
You must go and check who is the stone-hearted that sings the song of serenade!

Its difficult to do justice to such a marvellous nazm given my limited vocab. But an attempt is always on! 🙂 Let me know if you can think of some better lines.

Ek Ghazal

TeriI SadiYOn meIn jii rahaA hooN maaiN

SAans lene ki kise fursat haii

MujhKo hairAani se mat dekhaA karo

Mera visAal hi aE dost merii furqat haii..


JAane do lamhon mein kyaa kyaa yahaan bikhraa paaya

JAane kis kis ki tamanNaon ka silaa paaya

Do ghadii ruk gaya to waQt badal jayega

Ajnabi aasmAan merii pehchan, merii jaroorat haii


Baandh lo mujh ko merii Umr ke viraAne meIn

TumSe firr mil sakooN bas itni merii hasrat haii…

Couple of weeks of missed reviews!

Few snippets that’ve been lost in the sands of the last few (phew!) weeks –

1. Double deal – I decided to catch up with this fairly well known play. Experience – 4-5 out of 10.
Sandhya Mridul looks very beautiful. But Mahesh Manjrekar acted better. Even if I am the only person to think so – I always got a feeling that both the people are acting at 2 levels – 1. when they are trying to have this continuous conversation in English (I find it normal for Indians to intuitively think in their native tongue and then translate before conversing), and 2. The play itself.
It must be difficult to pull these multi-stor(e)y acts!
Also, its a one-act play split into 2 halves. 2 characters. Talking continuously.
Sense of humor – ok. Sense of drama – average. plot – good. Use of stage – minimal. Use of props – minimal. Characterization – could be better. Background music used- average.
Final comment – Its that one thing you dont want to do for fun when you want to do something for fun.
2. Ghostrider – Again.. Pathetic! Of all the comics turned movies, I have ended up liking X-men and Spiderman. Superman- the older ones. The recent one was not quite there.
Ghostrider is that Ajay Devgan action movie where even if he jumped from the 50th floor to land on 2 bicycles, there would be some B-grade movie watchers hooting for him. And the director would still say – my movie is different. It appeals to a different class of people.
Nicholas Cage, and Eva Mendes disappoint. Cage looks like a doped patient of running-stomach-syndrome. I want to go somewhere but I am too doped to understand where I want to go kinda looks! The devil is useless – does not evoke a laughter, definitely does not scare. Villains are more funny with their frozen white makeup!
Action sequences are basic, stuff that can be seen in every third movie.

High point of the movie – Emraan Hashmi, the serial kisser of Bollywood, was standing next to me in the washroom. And I realized that he is shorter than me (for those who havent seen me, someone has to be extremely extremely short to be shorter than me). God bless Indian Cinema!

3. Chennai – the city deserves a mention. I was in Chennai for 3-4 months in 2003. While talking to Bonnie and Tushar, we all agreed on two things –
a. Anyone who stays here for more than x months, should be a given a certificate of appreciation. X is a function of how far north of chennai the person is from.
b. If you see a beautiful girl in Chennai, then most probably she is a tourist. And its not about them not being good looking. They just dont have the attitude to look good.

In 2006, with probably 60% of educated families having one family member who is/has been abroad, the city is down in the pits with its conservative nature. The autowallahs havent changed in the last 40 years it seems. The roads continue to be messy (though definitely better than Mumbai roads). People on the street still cannot come out of the north-south divide and their biases. Extremely unfriendly. And any johnnie can become a hero down south!

4. Saving the best for the last – Prithvi Theater– Celebrating Poetry. I was there on a saturday when they were showcasing the emergence of progressive poetry. However, the story went back to as far as Bulle Shah, Kabirdas and covered Ghalib, Nirala, and contemporary Nida Fazli sahab as well. Beautiful collection of poetry. Couple of the actors could have done better by memorizing their lines completely.

Final suggestion – The Babbar family kids (Raj Babbar’s son and daughter) – they should stay away from theatre. Those who cannot act in movies, will never be able to act on a stage. and especially, if the stage is like Prithvi!

Muse Rues

Part I

The poet in me
Woke up
This fine morning
As she called my name………
Oh lord!
Why aren’t mornings
Always the same………………. Part II


One man’s destiny
Attached to another…
Feather by feather…
Makes me fly….
This endless joy
Of you being you
And you being the one…
Whats so special
That drives me insane……
Takes me away
From things so mundane…..
Why isn’t everyone
Sooooo like you
Why ain’t the sky
Always blue…………….

Triveni

Triveni – a form of short poetry where the (vocal) meter should be maintained and the third line creates the effect that the first two lines refer to (but in an unobtrusive manner)!

Highly inspired by Gulzar’s works – and posted under the Triveni thread on Gulzar community (Orkut) – these are some of the trivenis written by me –

1)

kashish chand lamhon ki dhadakti zumbish mein hoti hai
bekhud sangon ki beintehaa parashtish mein hoti haikabhi tum aao in lamhon mein, tumhe khuda kar dein…

****

2)

kitni sadiyon se apne hi hathon shikast khata raha
girte, toote lafzon mein apni kahani sunata rahasadiyon ko lamhon se azaadi muft nahi milti….

*****

3)

mere kaatil ko meri maut ki saza na do
gam-e-furkat na sataaye, ye maza na do..koi jalti hui shaama ko bujhaata kyon hai?

*****

4)

ishq wo kashmakash hai yaar mere
sadiyan lamhon mein guzar jaati hain..aur wo aaine se dil lagaye baithe hain!!!

****

5)

fitna koi kehta hai, kaafir kahe koi
kehta hai koi manzil, musafir kahe koiumr ki daraj mein tasveer hai adhoori

*****

6)

Mwafi mil gayee, nazaron se kuch baatein bhee kar li hain
humne unke tasavvur se fariyadein bhee kar li haindekhte hain chand se pehle chaand nikalta hai ki nahi..

****

7)

dua ko haath uthaya ki sar jhuka paaya
khud apni khwahishon ka arsh bhi ruka paayajab khuda the, khudai thee, juban pe lafz na the…

*****

8)

Ye azaadi hai ki ek jhootha sach
Ye khuli aankhon ka sunehra sapna bhee thaAur jaane kitne dhokhe kar gaya wo paarsaa….

****

9)

hazaar lashon ka manzar tha
hazaar asmaanon ki cheekhJalianwala aaj bhee zinda hai meri aahon mein

****

Sky is my Limit?

A life full of hopes…

A night full of dreams…

A morning full of sunshine…

All you need

is to define

 

Whats my Sky? Whats my Limit?

Of Blogs here and there

Was reading Mug’s blog on Sleeplesss nights... though not quite in Seattle..

Qatil Shifai suddenly came alive

“Humen to aaj ki shab pau phate tak jaagna hoga
yahi qismat hamari hai, sitaron tum to so jao….”

Tonight I need to be up until dawn,
Thats my destiny, O heavens! You should go to sleep now

Was reading Dhoomketu on Jose Mourinho and…

.. Ghalib was peeping this time

“Har ek baat pe kehte ho tum ki tu kya hai?
Tumhi kaho ki ye andaaz-e-guftgu kya hai?”

With every phrase, you ask me- Who am I?
Is this the language of the learned and the wise?

And the last was Sunil’s Porch when it was Ghalib and Zafar engaged in a battle of wits-

“Hui Muddat ke Ghalib mar gaya par yaad aata hai
Wo har ik baat pe kehna ki yun hota to kya hota….”

Its been ages since Ghalib died, but not his memories
Especially his style- Especially his What ifs?

“Mohabbat karne wale kam na honge…
Teri mehfil mein lekin hum na honge….”

There won’t be a dearth of suitors, I am sure
You’ll still crave for my love, mon amour

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