Tuesday, May 21, 2013

apne honthon par sajaana chaahta hoon... nida fazli

अपने होंठो पर सजाना चाहता हूँ,
तुझे मैं गुनगुनाना चाहता हूँ...


कोई आंसूं तेरे दामन पर गिरा कर
बूँद को मोती बनाना चाहता हूँ

थक गया मैं करते करते याद तुझ को,
अब तुझे मैं याद आना चाहता हूँ...

 
छा रहा है सारी  बस्ती में अन्धेरा
रौशनी को घर जलाना चाहता हूँ
 

आखरी हिचकी तेरी जानों पे निकले ,
मौत भी मैं शायराना चाहता हूँ



 
i want to celebrate you on my lips
come, for i want to hum you..
 
i want to drop a tear in your palm
and convert a droplet .. to a pearl..
 
oh! for how long will i think of u
for once, i want to be thought of....
 
it is dark again, in our village
let me burn my heart, let there be light..
 
let my last breath be in your lap
even in death, i want poetry...
 
 
 

vo dil mein raha aur use tod gaya bhi... वो दिल में रहा और उसे तोड गया भी

काँटों की चुभन पायी , फूलों का मज़ा भी ...
दिल दर्द के मौसम में,  रोया भी हंसा भी …

आने का सबब याद ना जाने की खबर है…
वो दिल में रहा और उसे तोड गया भी .

हर एक से मंजिल का पता पूछ रहा है
गुमराह मेरे साथ हुआ रहनुमा भी .

गुमनाम कभी अपनों से, जो ग़म हुए हासिल
कुछ याद रहे उन में, कुछ भूल गया भी ...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PfKFYb8vyzQ

it had the pain of thorns pricking, and the delight of flowers,
in the season of pain, the heart laughed and cried by turns..

i have no clue why he came, nor know when he left..
he lived in my heart, and broke it too...

he asks everyone for the way to our destination..
with me, even the guide is lost...

the hurt i got from the ones i trusted
some of it i remember, but the rest is forgotten...

 

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Hitchie's hatching... and the memories that got made...


आज , गुदगुदी लिखो…
क्या करना है
नेइत्श्स्चे बन कर
आज
रूमी बनो
खूब हंसो :)

आज
ग़ालिब नहीं
चुटकुला कहो…

Today,
write a tickle
what do we gain
by being Neitzsche
Today, we be Rumi
and laugh a lot.

Today,
recite not
a Ghalib
tell a joke instead...





pug-dandy...

jan-nat :)

bad-all

ped.. is par koi pun nahi..
 

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

microcosms


how can i explain how much i love you
like love was a linear metric
with a scale?

love, like life
... is amoeba
a thousand different shapes
in a hundred different directions.

depths that cannot be fathomed
because even microscopes have limitations
and microcosms created by love
are limitless.

Sunday, May 05, 2013

When a Tree Shook Delhi - excerpts

It is a commentary on the Indian democracy that Sajjan Kumar, who has been accused of leading mobs during the carnage in the most number of affidavits, secured the maximum no. of votes in the whole counry - 8,55,543 - when he won from the Outer Delhi constituency in the last Lok Sabha elections in 2004.
*********************
 

Wednesday, May 01, 2013

The 1984 riots and how they deprived us of the one thing - hope.


The 1984 riots are a miracle in human history, because NO ONE KILLED THEM, and yet, 2700 people burnt to their death in the biggest known occurence of spontaneous human combustion(look that up).
 
For 29 years, the victims have waited patiently, hearing after hearing, court after court.. for SOMEONE to be convicted. But miraculously, NOT ONE of the leaders who killed thousands in the most brutal way, not one of them was convicted.
 
Today, as Sajjan Kumar was also acquitted, i lose all hope.
 
Waris Shah, a well respected Sufi poet from Punjab, wrote of the plight of Heer - a daughter of Punjab. Many centuries later, Amrita Pritam, a Punjabi poetess, saw the massacre of partition, the rapes and the forced conversions, and wrote a very famous poem, in which she exhorted Waris Shah to rise from his grave and see. When he saw one daughter of Punjab cry, he wrote a long story about her. What will he do today, when millions of daughters cry in the land of Heer?
 
Today, this comes, straight out of grief. There is no other emotion. No anger, no rage, not even a hollow sense of injustice. Just. Grief. and an emptiness that cannot be filled.
 
The piece is in Punjabi, and borrows from the original of Amrita Pritam.. because today, i know what it is to not have a single living soul to look up to for hope or solace.
 
ਆਜ ਆਖਾਂ ਅਖਬਾਰਾਂ ਨੂ,
ਕਿੱਤੇ ਪ੍ਰੇਸਾਂ ਵਿਚੋਂ ਬੋਲ
ਇਕ ਧੀ ਮਰੀ ਸੀ 
ਤੂ ਲਖਾਂ ਅਖਰ ਵਗਾਏ (ਅਥਰੂ ਵਰਗੇ) ..
... ਆਜ 2700 ਲਾਸ਼ਾਂ ਪੁਛਦੀਯਾਂ ,
ਕੀ ਸਾਡੇ ਲਹੁ ਦਾ ਮੋਲ ?
 
ਕੋਈ ਇਕ ਨਾ ਅਖਰ ਬੋਲੇ,
ਕੋਈ ਇਕ ਨਾ ਅਥਰੂ ਰੁਡਯਾ ,
ਬੀਬੀ ਬੈਠੀ ਸੁਬਕਦੀ ,
ਕੋਈ ਇਕ ਨਾ ਲਁਗੇ ਕੋਲ...
 
ਆਜ ਆਖਾਂ ਜ਼ਮੀਰ ਨੂ,
ਕਿੱਤੇ ਕਬਰਾਂ ਵਿਚੋਂ ਬੋਲ 
ਤੂ ਉਸ ਵੇਲੇ ਵੀ ਚੀਖਦਾ , 
ਜੱਦੋਂ ਬੁੱਲ ਰਹੰਦੇ ਅਡੋਲ 
 
ਆਜ ਆਖਾਂ ਚੀਖਾਂ ਨੂ,
ਜਿਗਰਾ ਫਾੜ ਕੇ ਪਾਓ ਸ਼ੋਰ 
ਡੋਰੇ ਸਾਰੇ ਜਜ ,
ਸਾਡੇ ਹੌਕੇਯਾਂ ਨੂ ਕਰਨ ਖਮੋਸ਼ .

आज आखां अखबारां नु,
कित्ते प्रेसां विचों बोल 
इक धी मरी सी,
तू लखां आखर वगाये (अथरू वर्गे)
...आज २७ ० ०  लाशां पुछ्दियाँ ,
की साडे लहू दा मोल ?
 
कोई इक न आखर बोले 
कोई इक न अथरू वगेया 
बीबी बैठी सुबकदी ,
कोई इक न लंगे कोल ...
 
आज आखां ज़मीर नू 
कित्ते कब्रां विचों बोल 
तू उस वेले वी  चीखदा 
जद्दों बुल रहंदे अडोल 
 
आज आखां चीखां नू 
जिगरा फाड़ के पाओ शोर 
डोरे सारे जज ,
साडे हौकयाँ नु करण खमोश .
 
Please see the comment for a translation.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Absence by Pablo Neruda

I have scarcely left you
When you go in me, crystalline,
Or trembling,
... Or uneasy, wounded by me
Or overwhelmed with love, as
when your eyes
Close upon the gift of life
That without cease I give you.

My love,
We have found each other
Thirsty and we have
Drunk up all the water and the
Blood,
We found each other
Hungry
And we bit each other
As fire bites,
Leaving wounds in us.

But wait for me,
Keep for me your sweetness.
I will give you too
A rose.
Pablo Neruda

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Not tonight, darling.

Another day, perhaps,
I will take
your pity
poured in a glass
called "love"

Not tonight, Darling.

 
किसी दिन शायद
मैं पी पाऊँ,
तुम्हारी दया की मदिरा,
तुम्हारे प्यार नाम के प्याले में,

आज मन नहीं है जान!