One of may fav songs from the movie 'teen deviyaan'. Deva nand is singing in a mushayara thats being broadcast live on radio.
Kahin be-khayal ho kar yuun hii chuu liyaa kisii ney
Kayi khwaab dekh daaley, yahan meri bekhudi ney
Hai bhala saa naam uuskaa, main abhi sey kyaa bataoon,
Kiyaa bekaraar aksar, mujhey ek aadmi ney
Arey mujh pey naaz waalon, yeh niyaazmandiyaan kyuun
Hai yehi karam tumhaaraa, tum mujhey naa dogey jeeney
-------------
bekhayal:- unintentional
niyaaz- offerings
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Bangle è Bello
I have never liked mumbai girls in Particular. I always use to feel that the girls here are different, but I never knew why. Same was the case in MICA.
I was in a class with 9 girls, but never liked them either. There is something different about them, and I had never been able to put my finger on it. Even in my office
Where I have to work next to them, something has been different.
I just went out for a cup of tea, and when I was coming back I saw a couple disembark in the Parking lot of a nearby call centre. And I don’t know after how long I heard a sound that’s sooooooo Indian, and so feminine. A sound that I couldn’t hear in the quite of MICA neither the cacophony of bombay. It was a sweet peal. Just a faint sound made by glass bangles on the girl’s right hand. Something like that that is so normal and everyday, that when its not there, you don't notice it.
And as if one small voice, a faint peal, explained it all. It was music. I smiled. Life is really beautiful. La vita è bella.Bangle is beautiful. Il Bangelo è bello.
I was in a class with 9 girls, but never liked them either. There is something different about them, and I had never been able to put my finger on it. Even in my office
Where I have to work next to them, something has been different.
I just went out for a cup of tea, and when I was coming back I saw a couple disembark in the Parking lot of a nearby call centre. And I don’t know after how long I heard a sound that’s sooooooo Indian, and so feminine. A sound that I couldn’t hear in the quite of MICA neither the cacophony of bombay. It was a sweet peal. Just a faint sound made by glass bangles on the girl’s right hand. Something like that that is so normal and everyday, that when its not there, you don't notice it.
And as if one small voice, a faint peal, explained it all. It was music. I smiled. Life is really beautiful. La vita è bella.Bangle is beautiful. Il Bangelo è bello.
Friday, June 23, 2006
The Punching Bag
The month Starts. And like all Newly employed people, Its time to be king for next 5 days atleast. This is the time when all those dreams that you had seen as a kid have a chance to materialize.
Every middle class kid i think has gone through the phase. When he has tried to put his finger on something really unwanted and has been dutifully told by his parents that "grow up, get a job and you can have that". The problem is most of the kids forget. As they get the sense to earn, they also get some sense on how to spend.But there were two kids who remembered an item on their huge shopping list that was stashed some where in the corner of their minds. Its really hard to remember such a thing, or to have guts to spend your hard earned money on such avenues when there are more noteworthy and grown up things to buy. The item in consideration was a Punching Bag. The wish had been so long buried that there were tonnes of memories on it, and nothing could have dug them out except one night at a place called "The Sports Bar".
The day had been rough on one of the kids. His boss had been pretty particular that day and the day had been spent on the receiving end.So in the evening when an opportunity presented itself in the form of a punching bag, he couldn't resist and vented all his fury and anger on the Bag. The feeling was nothing short of being ecstasic, and the usefullness of the Bag was noted in the Adult mind. The memories were dug out in a night of nursing the sore arms.
Sprinkle this with a night spent watching RockyI to IV, and the Punching Bag became something that was impossible to live without. Now the question remained that how to convince the other kid? This was pretty hard to do. But when the utility of the Bag as an aesthetic tool hanging from the drawing room ceiling in a all guys flat was introduced, the going became easy. Besides the usefullness of the bag in health building context really made the day. After exchanging points and counterpoints the kids sealed the deal on spit, and the Bag was as good as in.
What was left to be seen was When, How and How much. So after pondering, juggling calendars a sunday was fixed, when both of them would go to some shop which was found after calling some knowledgable friends.
The sunday came and the kids took an auto. After much sightseeing in the traditional mumbai auto the reached the shop on the main road in Andheri. Since along with the Bag some weights were also to be bought first the focus was on the wieghts. But it looked like the weights which had to be bought were not much of an addition to the shop's visual merchandising, and therefore the bloke had hidden it away in a "warehouse" on the other side of the main road. Any one who has been to mumbai will definitely agree that crossing a main road is something that is not to be taken lightely.
And this was really a main road, with proper concrete dividers. As if this was not enough, the muncipallty people had strung barbed wires on wooden poles. Any one capable of effortlessly crossing the road here could as well have been shipped off to fight the pakis.
But the requriement was grave and what has to be done has to be done. So some how the road was crossed, with few drivers muttering obscenities and a hint or two of raised middle fingers.But hey, who cares, and in doing important things one must not care what people say.
The warehouse turned out to be a small garage kind of shed with heavy locks and bolts that would even keep the air out, let alone a thief. The kids waited outside the door with curiosity, because if something is that well protected, it must indeed be worth seeing. The heavy small doors opened after the sales boy put in his weight on the handles, and a small room filled with dusty wrecked tables with all sorts of junk was revealed. Weights were checked out and then piled up. But some of the enthusiasm had returned in the kids as they picked the weights and turned to cross the road.
The crossing this time was uneventful, as rarely do people with glass windshields throw obscene gestures with three guys walking with dumb bels and all. So the cars on the roads slowed down with grace allowing the guys to cross.
Now was the turn to see the punching bag. The sales person disappeared into the side door and came out with the bag. The bag which was worth all the wait since the childhood days and which was worht every effort put in the moment that led to here. All the effort that went in to crossing the road which seemed like indo-pak border in the west was going to be rewarded. The bad came out of the plastic sheet and the kids' faces fell. It was a canvas bag of just 2 feet height. That looked pretty small. Now who buys such a bag?? Their wishes might have been kiddish, but they were not. And it was THE PUNCHING BAG. The BAG which was to add some dignity to their apartment. Which was supposed to complement their soon to be tough bodies and the weights that were going to be displayed alongside.
The kid let out a tired breath. All the effort had been wasted. Now they will have to start the process again. They will have to look for more sports shops. This one itself had been hard to find. BUt the other kid didn't let it go that easily."Do you have any other bag?" he asked. The owner came out with a real cool 3 feet long leather bag. But the price Tag blew out the wind. 4000 bucks. Now this leather bag was really cool and all was agreed. But at 4000 bucks the dream was turning out to be on the expensive side. And after all the bag was not some trendy samsonite college bag or something of that sorts. It was just a punching bag, Isn't it. Besides the kid who had been neglecting his hunger in all this exitement was feeling the pangs at double the intensity.
The mood was sour. They had spent some one and a half hour. The kid was hungry and they didn't have 4k to spend on some damn leather bag. The owner suggested the solution. A canvas bag in larger size and lower price filled with sawdust could be arranged, but on the next day. What could be done. The other kid handed over his card for the weights they had bought. The shop owner's bald father took over from there.
The kid was feeling really pissed. They had spent too much time, and he was really hungry. The patience meter was going down. Besides the hawk eyed father was working even slower. Even a fly entering the shop seemed to distract his attention, and then, the card swipe machine just did it. The card refused to be acknowledged. The machine showed transaction error.
The kid asked the hawk to hurry. And the hawk instead of hurrying, just snapped its beak at the kid. The kid was getting furious by the minute, and the hawk was just working as slowly as he could. And the moment the hawk in his defiant tome said "behave like a kid if you want to be loved or else" the damage was done. The kid noted it down in his small mental diary.
With furiously pissed mood he came out of the shop carrying the weights they had bought. The other kid meanwhile had paid and was carrying the other set of weights. The shopkeeper had promissed to keep the Punching bag ready the next evening, but the hawk had done the damage. The kid just wanted to get back at him. He was really sore.
Two days went by, and it was tuesday evening before they could again think of going that way. Again after a circutious route which was different from the one previous auto had taken, they reached the shop. But this time there seemed to be a few people inside the small shop and it looked crowded.
After some waiting the shopkeeper brought out the punching bag. The scene resembled very much like the movie scenes where the boy and his parents visit the bride's house to approve her. Both the kids were busy in the shop, looking at things, trying to get interested in something, while anxious at the same time. The shop keeper brings the bag out. They both turn, and there is the bag in front of them, just lying there. The decision to buy it was instantly taken. But the bag seemed to be a bit less filled. So it was agreed upon that the kids will take the bag while the extra sawdust will be delivered to their home. The bag was put near the door.
But you can't just rain blows on a canvas bags. You need gloves too. As the bag's price was within a grand, some money could definitely be utilized in that. The boxing gloves incidently were from a company called Hawk and were priced at 700 rupees. Just think of that, you need to spend as much on the gloves as you need to spend on the Bag. Now spending on the bag was Okay. The Bag had significance, but here gloves were just extra expenses which hadn't been previously accounted for. But still, here a wish was at stake.Had the reason been something else, the gloves could have been left behind. But who tries to save money when a wish is being fulfilled and you can pay for it, you have the money and you can pay for it.The greater cause has to be achieved. Dreams were t stake here and So they were taken.
Suddenly the crowd seemed to have increased a bit. The shopkeeper went on to bill the kids, while the hawk father was busy looking at something, while the rest of the sales people were trying to make sale to customers.
The shopkeeper came out with the bill of 1400rs, which was paid for.
The other kid realized the mistake."Hey dude, he hasn't billed us for the Punching Bag." he said. The kid just thought that may be he isn't delivering the bag today and will be delivering the bag with the sawdust at their house the next day. After all they had spent three grand at the shop, and so a door delivery was something that the shop could definetly do.
But it didn't make sense. The hawk would definitely have billed the bag before sending it. As shrewd as he seemed, he would definitely be the one who would secure his investment.
So the other possibility kicked in. That simply meant that he had forgotten to bill them the only thing for which they were there. He had done the collateral damage to their pockets by the gloves and accessories, but the real damage had been spared. He had simply forgotten. But the kid realized that he might be wrong and so it had to be checked out. The Bag was waiting for them near the door, neatly propped. Everything had been packed and no one was paying attention. But still if the owner remembered at the exact time, there would be problem.
The other kid opened the glass door, not sure whether to take the bag or not. The kid followed him. And as happens in all the stories with happy ending, the good beat the evil. Just as happens and has been said in the movie "harold and kumar go to whitecastle", If something has to happen,The whole universe conspires to make it happen.
As the kids were about to move out, one lady started demanding things in her high pitch voice commanding the hawk's attention.A young and enthusiastic shop helper, bred on the idea that customer is the king, and not the thief stepped in to help them.Without saying a word, he promptly lifted the Punching bag on his able shoulders and followed the kids out of the door.
On the same main road the kid took the bag on his own shoulders, somehow suppresing his smile in front of the shop help who turned back after some distance. The other kid by that time had an ear to ear smile. The long awaited punching bag was on their shoulders, their feet were moving as fast as they could. No one could tell if they were running, or leaping or plain simply floating. But all that could be told is that they crossed the road without even feeling it in to the waiting auto.
The Punching bag is still hanging from the ceiling in our drawing room. Rahul still has an ear to ear smile, and no we don't intend to pay.
Every middle class kid i think has gone through the phase. When he has tried to put his finger on something really unwanted and has been dutifully told by his parents that "grow up, get a job and you can have that". The problem is most of the kids forget. As they get the sense to earn, they also get some sense on how to spend.But there were two kids who remembered an item on their huge shopping list that was stashed some where in the corner of their minds. Its really hard to remember such a thing, or to have guts to spend your hard earned money on such avenues when there are more noteworthy and grown up things to buy. The item in consideration was a Punching Bag. The wish had been so long buried that there were tonnes of memories on it, and nothing could have dug them out except one night at a place called "The Sports Bar".
The day had been rough on one of the kids. His boss had been pretty particular that day and the day had been spent on the receiving end.So in the evening when an opportunity presented itself in the form of a punching bag, he couldn't resist and vented all his fury and anger on the Bag. The feeling was nothing short of being ecstasic, and the usefullness of the Bag was noted in the Adult mind. The memories were dug out in a night of nursing the sore arms.
Sprinkle this with a night spent watching RockyI to IV, and the Punching Bag became something that was impossible to live without. Now the question remained that how to convince the other kid? This was pretty hard to do. But when the utility of the Bag as an aesthetic tool hanging from the drawing room ceiling in a all guys flat was introduced, the going became easy. Besides the usefullness of the bag in health building context really made the day. After exchanging points and counterpoints the kids sealed the deal on spit, and the Bag was as good as in.
What was left to be seen was When, How and How much. So after pondering, juggling calendars a sunday was fixed, when both of them would go to some shop which was found after calling some knowledgable friends.
The sunday came and the kids took an auto. After much sightseeing in the traditional mumbai auto the reached the shop on the main road in Andheri. Since along with the Bag some weights were also to be bought first the focus was on the wieghts. But it looked like the weights which had to be bought were not much of an addition to the shop's visual merchandising, and therefore the bloke had hidden it away in a "warehouse" on the other side of the main road. Any one who has been to mumbai will definitely agree that crossing a main road is something that is not to be taken lightely.
And this was really a main road, with proper concrete dividers. As if this was not enough, the muncipallty people had strung barbed wires on wooden poles. Any one capable of effortlessly crossing the road here could as well have been shipped off to fight the pakis.
But the requriement was grave and what has to be done has to be done. So some how the road was crossed, with few drivers muttering obscenities and a hint or two of raised middle fingers.But hey, who cares, and in doing important things one must not care what people say.
The warehouse turned out to be a small garage kind of shed with heavy locks and bolts that would even keep the air out, let alone a thief. The kids waited outside the door with curiosity, because if something is that well protected, it must indeed be worth seeing. The heavy small doors opened after the sales boy put in his weight on the handles, and a small room filled with dusty wrecked tables with all sorts of junk was revealed. Weights were checked out and then piled up. But some of the enthusiasm had returned in the kids as they picked the weights and turned to cross the road.
The crossing this time was uneventful, as rarely do people with glass windshields throw obscene gestures with three guys walking with dumb bels and all. So the cars on the roads slowed down with grace allowing the guys to cross.
Now was the turn to see the punching bag. The sales person disappeared into the side door and came out with the bag. The bag which was worth all the wait since the childhood days and which was worht every effort put in the moment that led to here. All the effort that went in to crossing the road which seemed like indo-pak border in the west was going to be rewarded. The bad came out of the plastic sheet and the kids' faces fell. It was a canvas bag of just 2 feet height. That looked pretty small. Now who buys such a bag?? Their wishes might have been kiddish, but they were not. And it was THE PUNCHING BAG. The BAG which was to add some dignity to their apartment. Which was supposed to complement their soon to be tough bodies and the weights that were going to be displayed alongside.
The kid let out a tired breath. All the effort had been wasted. Now they will have to start the process again. They will have to look for more sports shops. This one itself had been hard to find. BUt the other kid didn't let it go that easily."Do you have any other bag?" he asked. The owner came out with a real cool 3 feet long leather bag. But the price Tag blew out the wind. 4000 bucks. Now this leather bag was really cool and all was agreed. But at 4000 bucks the dream was turning out to be on the expensive side. And after all the bag was not some trendy samsonite college bag or something of that sorts. It was just a punching bag, Isn't it. Besides the kid who had been neglecting his hunger in all this exitement was feeling the pangs at double the intensity.
The mood was sour. They had spent some one and a half hour. The kid was hungry and they didn't have 4k to spend on some damn leather bag. The owner suggested the solution. A canvas bag in larger size and lower price filled with sawdust could be arranged, but on the next day. What could be done. The other kid handed over his card for the weights they had bought. The shop owner's bald father took over from there.
The kid was feeling really pissed. They had spent too much time, and he was really hungry. The patience meter was going down. Besides the hawk eyed father was working even slower. Even a fly entering the shop seemed to distract his attention, and then, the card swipe machine just did it. The card refused to be acknowledged. The machine showed transaction error.
The kid asked the hawk to hurry. And the hawk instead of hurrying, just snapped its beak at the kid. The kid was getting furious by the minute, and the hawk was just working as slowly as he could. And the moment the hawk in his defiant tome said "behave like a kid if you want to be loved or else" the damage was done. The kid noted it down in his small mental diary.
With furiously pissed mood he came out of the shop carrying the weights they had bought. The other kid meanwhile had paid and was carrying the other set of weights. The shopkeeper had promissed to keep the Punching bag ready the next evening, but the hawk had done the damage. The kid just wanted to get back at him. He was really sore.
Two days went by, and it was tuesday evening before they could again think of going that way. Again after a circutious route which was different from the one previous auto had taken, they reached the shop. But this time there seemed to be a few people inside the small shop and it looked crowded.
After some waiting the shopkeeper brought out the punching bag. The scene resembled very much like the movie scenes where the boy and his parents visit the bride's house to approve her. Both the kids were busy in the shop, looking at things, trying to get interested in something, while anxious at the same time. The shop keeper brings the bag out. They both turn, and there is the bag in front of them, just lying there. The decision to buy it was instantly taken. But the bag seemed to be a bit less filled. So it was agreed upon that the kids will take the bag while the extra sawdust will be delivered to their home. The bag was put near the door.
But you can't just rain blows on a canvas bags. You need gloves too. As the bag's price was within a grand, some money could definitely be utilized in that. The boxing gloves incidently were from a company called Hawk and were priced at 700 rupees. Just think of that, you need to spend as much on the gloves as you need to spend on the Bag. Now spending on the bag was Okay. The Bag had significance, but here gloves were just extra expenses which hadn't been previously accounted for. But still, here a wish was at stake.Had the reason been something else, the gloves could have been left behind. But who tries to save money when a wish is being fulfilled and you can pay for it, you have the money and you can pay for it.The greater cause has to be achieved. Dreams were t stake here and So they were taken.
Suddenly the crowd seemed to have increased a bit. The shopkeeper went on to bill the kids, while the hawk father was busy looking at something, while the rest of the sales people were trying to make sale to customers.
The shopkeeper came out with the bill of 1400rs, which was paid for.
The other kid realized the mistake."Hey dude, he hasn't billed us for the Punching Bag." he said. The kid just thought that may be he isn't delivering the bag today and will be delivering the bag with the sawdust at their house the next day. After all they had spent three grand at the shop, and so a door delivery was something that the shop could definetly do.
But it didn't make sense. The hawk would definitely have billed the bag before sending it. As shrewd as he seemed, he would definitely be the one who would secure his investment.
So the other possibility kicked in. That simply meant that he had forgotten to bill them the only thing for which they were there. He had done the collateral damage to their pockets by the gloves and accessories, but the real damage had been spared. He had simply forgotten. But the kid realized that he might be wrong and so it had to be checked out. The Bag was waiting for them near the door, neatly propped. Everything had been packed and no one was paying attention. But still if the owner remembered at the exact time, there would be problem.
The other kid opened the glass door, not sure whether to take the bag or not. The kid followed him. And as happens in all the stories with happy ending, the good beat the evil. Just as happens and has been said in the movie "harold and kumar go to whitecastle", If something has to happen,The whole universe conspires to make it happen.
As the kids were about to move out, one lady started demanding things in her high pitch voice commanding the hawk's attention.A young and enthusiastic shop helper, bred on the idea that customer is the king, and not the thief stepped in to help them.Without saying a word, he promptly lifted the Punching bag on his able shoulders and followed the kids out of the door.
On the same main road the kid took the bag on his own shoulders, somehow suppresing his smile in front of the shop help who turned back after some distance. The other kid by that time had an ear to ear smile. The long awaited punching bag was on their shoulders, their feet were moving as fast as they could. No one could tell if they were running, or leaping or plain simply floating. But all that could be told is that they crossed the road without even feeling it in to the waiting auto.
The Punching bag is still hanging from the ceiling in our drawing room. Rahul still has an ear to ear smile, and no we don't intend to pay.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Deewangi Rahey baaki
Terey Jamal sey roshan hai kaaynaat meri
Meri talaash, teri dilkashii rahey baaki
Khudaa karey ki, yeh deewangi rahey baaki
----------------------------------
My universe is lighted by your beauty. I hope that my search
and your lovliness remains as it is. May god keep my craze as it is.
----------------------------------
Jamaal>beauty, elegance
Kaaynaat>universe
Dilkashii>attractiveness
Baaki>remains
Godspeed
Cogito ergo sum
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Do aarzuu Pey aur Do Intezaar pey
Hmmm,
Today It will be four years since I met Nidhi. Four loooooong years(or were they short??) coz we have been more away than close.
“Chaar Saal”.
Reminds me of a sher by Zafar. When he was in a prison in
Looks like prison does something to shayars
Umr-e-daraaz(longlife) maang kar laaya tha chaar din
Do aarzu mey kat gaye, Do intezaar mey.
Nahii nigaah mey manzil to zustzu(effort) hi sahi,
Nahi visaal(meeting) mayassar(destined) toh aarzu hi sahi
Gar intezaar kathin hai toh jab talak ae dil
Kiisi key vaada-e-fardaa(promise breaking) ki guftguu(talks) hi sahi
So I guess a lot of life is going to be spent on “zustzu” and “aarzu” and some “intezaar” sprinkled in midst.
Just Hope that this doesn’t happen.
Iis bahaney sey magar dekh li duniya humney
different from “Khwahish”, and Ghalib writes,
Hazaaron khwaahishen aisi ki har khwaahish pey dum nikaley
Bahot nikaley merey armaan, lekin fir bhi kam naikaley.
Uuski hasrat hai jiisey dil sey mita bhi na sakun
Dhhundhney uusko chala huun jisey paa bhi na sakun
And hasrat is also linked to “ummeeed”, as no aarzuu can be without ummeed, and this Sher beats them all
Sau sau ummeed bandhti hai, ek,ek, nigaah pey
Aisey naa mujhey pyaar sey dekha karey koi
Godspeed
Cogito Ergo Sum.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Gettin Bored
Getting Bored……..I don’t know why. I wanted to be here. I am here. Took me a year, but I am here. And now the whole day Whenever I get time to raise my head for a second, or take a deep breath. The lines keep humming in my head.
Lo suni gayii humari, yuun firey hain din ki fir sey,
Wohi Goshaa-e-kafas hai, wohi fasl e gul ka maatam.
I dunno why, but this keeps sounding like goshaa-e-kafas. The feeling doesn’t happen always, but comes on sometimes.
But since I have already given the whole thing in my last post, I will write something else. Mind you, It’s a bit sad. Its by Rahiid Kamal And is also available here
here
kabhii aah lab pe machal gaii, kabhii ashk aankh se Dhal gaye
vo tumhaare Gam ke chiraag hain, kabhii bujh gaye kabhii jal gaye
main Khayaal-o-Khvaab kii mahafilen, na baqadr-e-shauq sajaa sakaa
tumhaarii ik nazar ke saath hii mere sab iraade badal gaye
kabhii rang mey kabhii ruup mey kabhii chaanv mey kabhii dhuup mey
kahiin aafataab-e-nazar hain vo, kabhii maahataab mey Dhal gaye
jo fanaa huye Gam-e-ishq mey unhen zindagii kaa na Gam huaa
jo na apanii aag men jal sake vo paraaii aag men jal gaye
Thaa unhen bhii merii tarah junuun, toh phir unmey mujh mey ye farq kyun
main giraft-e-Gam se na bach sakaa vo huduud-e-Gam se nikal gaye
---------------------------------
khayaal-o-khvaab->whenever ‘o’ comes it means ‘aur’ so here khyaal and khvaab
Bakadra-e-shauq-in accordance of my liking
Aaftaab(sun)-e-nazar> whenever ‘–e-‘ is used it means ‘of’ so here ‘sun(shine) of eyes’
maaahtaab- moon
Fanaa-death, destruction
Giraft- grip
Huduud> boundaries
-----
Lo suni gayii humari, yuun firey hain din ki fir sey,
Wohi Goshaa-e-kafas hai, wohi fasl e gul ka maatam.
I dunno why, but this keeps sounding like goshaa-e-kafas. The feeling doesn’t happen always, but comes on sometimes.
But since I have already given the whole thing in my last post, I will write something else. Mind you, It’s a bit sad. Its by Rahiid Kamal And is also available here
here
kabhii aah lab pe machal gaii, kabhii ashk aankh se Dhal gaye
vo tumhaare Gam ke chiraag hain, kabhii bujh gaye kabhii jal gaye
main Khayaal-o-Khvaab kii mahafilen, na baqadr-e-shauq sajaa sakaa
tumhaarii ik nazar ke saath hii mere sab iraade badal gaye
kabhii rang mey kabhii ruup mey kabhii chaanv mey kabhii dhuup mey
kahiin aafataab-e-nazar hain vo, kabhii maahataab mey Dhal gaye
jo fanaa huye Gam-e-ishq mey unhen zindagii kaa na Gam huaa
jo na apanii aag men jal sake vo paraaii aag men jal gaye
Thaa unhen bhii merii tarah junuun, toh phir unmey mujh mey ye farq kyun
main giraft-e-Gam se na bach sakaa vo huduud-e-Gam se nikal gaye
---------------------------------
khayaal-o-khvaab->whenever ‘o’ comes it means ‘aur’ so here khyaal and khvaab
Bakadra-e-shauq-in accordance of my liking
Aaftaab(sun)-e-nazar> whenever ‘–e-‘ is used it means ‘of’ so here ‘sun(shine) of eyes’
maaahtaab- moon
Fanaa-death, destruction
Giraft- grip
Huduud> boundaries
-----
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Yeh jafa e gham ka chaara
This is one of my favourate poems by faiz….Sadly you don’t get these lyrics online. So I am posting it here
Yeh jafa-e-gham ka chara, woh najaat-e-dil ka aalam
Tera husn dast-e-iisa, teri yaad ruuh-e-mariyam
Dil-o-jaan fidaayen raahen, kabhi aa key dekh humdum
Sar kuu-e-dil figaaran, shab-e-aarzuu ka aalam
Teri deed se sivaa hain, terey shauq mey baharaan
Who chaman jahan giri hai, terey gesuuon ki shabnam
Lo suuni gayi hamari, yun firey hain din ki fir sey
Wohi goshaa-e-kafas hai, wahi fasl-e-gul kaa maatam
Yeh ajab kayamaten hain, teri rehguzar mey guzraan
Na hua ki mar mitey hum, na hua ki jii utthey hum
Jafa-e-gham
English: Oppression of my grief
Chara-Solution
Nijaat-e-dil –liberation of heart
Dast-e-isah- Like hand of Christ
Ruuh-e-mariyam-Like soul of mother mary(pure)
Dil-o-jaan Fidaaen raahen (heart and life sacrificed on the way)
Sar kuu-e-dil Figaaran….all the paths in my heart are injured(afflicted)
Shab-e-aarzu -The night of longing
Teri Deed sey siva hai tere shauq may baharaan-The spring that yearns for you is devoid from your sight.
Gesuuon-hair
Goshaaa-e-kafas- The corner of a prison
Fasl-e-gul ka maatam- The sadness for the spring
Godspeed
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