Thursday, May 8, 2014

Koucha-e-janaan mie ajab masti hai


Fart-e-heerat hoon ki tere dard ne
Kitaboon mie likha lafzoon ka kaha suna hi nahin

Shahid o hamraaz thaey jo tere dil ke
Unhien tu ne apna samjha hi nahin

Kis se karte biyan dard ki shidat
Samaey hai jo aisa ki samjha hi nahin

Ho chuka qutal jub mere zaat ka
Ab kya karien ge gawah jub mudda hi nahin

Youn tu dasht mi tha samandar dekhta
Bus naseeb mie tha pani hi nahin

Mehfil mie yaar ki sub kuch tu hai
Kya howa faqat jo pehlu hi nahin

Koucha-e-janaan mie ajab masti hai
Bikney ko hoon tayar gahak hi nahin

Pathar bhi hota tu moum ho jata
Tere takallum mie halawat hi nahin

Pathar jo parey mujh ko phol hi lagey
Majnoon hoon nae dhaab ka ashiq hi nahin

Lahu aya hai mere ankhon se ashk nahin
Shahid kyoun ho koi jub aarzoo hi nahin
 

Note:
After a very long time I managed to break a writer's block. This blog is based on friend’s facebook status which reads in urdu as:

ﻧﮧ ﻟﻔﻈﻮﮞ ﮐﺎ ﻟﮩﻮ ﻧﮑﻠﺘﺎ ﮨﮯ ﻧﮧ ﮐﺘﺎﺑﯿﮟ ﺑﻮﻝ ﭘﺎﺗﯽ ﮨﯿﮟ
ﻣﯿﺮﮮ ﺩﺭﺩ ﮐﮯ ﺩﻭ ﮔﻮﺍﮦ ﺗﮭﮯ ﺩﻭﻧﻮﮞ ﮨﯽ ﺑﮯ ﺯﺑﺎﮞ ﻧﮑﻠﮯ

 

 

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Chanda ki Nagri


This jingle is based and inspired by the instrumental performance “Lough Erin Shore” by Irish band the CORRS which was recorded live on October 5,1999 as a part of MTV’s Unplugged series.


Chanda ki Nagri
Ki hain
Ye Sitarey
Dekhu jo in ko
Lagtey hain pyarey

Bikhray howe hain
Falak mie aise
Jaise ho Gulshan
Mie Jugnu
Ye sarey

Chu lo agar tu
Asman ko
Mil jayien ge
Tum ko
Hian ye Sitarey

Ghum na karo tum
Khatam hoge douri
Mill jayien gay
Naddia ki
Sung kinarey

Gur raat ho
Jitney bhi gehri
Pereshan na hona
Kur dain ge ujaley
Subh ki nazarey

Jeet lou ju tu
Bazi ye hari
Honge khushian hursu
Mitt jayien ge
Ghum ye sarey

This blog is dedicated to my younger sisters

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Thank God, I am not pregnant! (Shikwah)


Note: In this blog I tried to amalgamate style of Manto with Iqbal’s “Shikwah”. This blog contains some bold ideas so reader discretion is advised.

Sir, we deal in all types of chemicals and coating additives. We are a responsible care company and concerned with the well being of customers, suppliers and stakeholders. Followed by introduction she replied some of the queries of the customer and suggested workable options. Then conversation concluded with notes of typical greetings. Mouthpiece returned to its designated rest area with crisp sound.

For a moment everything was calmed down like deep sea water. After a pause she tried to figure out what she was doing earlier. Ahan! Akhbar-e-Jahan...She resumed skimming with renewed looks on cover girl from top to bottom. She closely observed the colour scheme being used in fabric and the new stitched neck design. For a moment she realized how she will look like wearing this cover girl outfit. From halat-e-hazra to cut piece and In light of Quran & Sunnah to Filmi Dunia every page turner was an aimless attempt to kill time. She was feeling heavy.

It was a dull deserted office of a local importer firm at a second floor of an unsuccessful plaza who remained under-occupied since the year of inauguration. She was a sales girl cum secretary of Malik Sahib – the owner of a firm. Besides her a firm comprises of one dozen marketing executives who had a very high turnover for switch-overs.  

Marketing guys may loose a chance to hunt a prospective client but they never miss a chance of flirting with her though they were well aware that she is heart throb of Malik Sahib. Every passerby marketer was admirer of her smart fit appealing attire. Indeed she was a perfect candle with surround moths. Time had told her how to remain inflammable. However she was realistic enough to know that ultimately candle lastly sparks, burn out and finally ends up with grey coloured upsurge one liner smoke…after which dark & gloom prevails.

Her dullness started getting heavier that day with cramps, head ache and back pain. For now there was no more charm in page turner of magazine. She put a magazine aside and geared up for her visit to Malik Sahib’s chamber. She entered in chamber without knocking the door. Chamber was full of cigarette’s smoke. Silence broke up with her extended rousing “Sir!”. Malik Sahib faced up from newspaper and looked at her. The visual delight of her was more charming than picture of Katrina Kaif in the newspaper. “Whats up?”

Malik Sahib! Should I leave, I am not feeling well, she said demandingly.

With a flip of finger Malik sahib shed ash on the tip of cigarette to ash-tray, took another puff and with locked looks said, “It’s ok, take good care of yourself.” She gave a thankful smile and returned back. She wore veil as if she was a nymph on her way to holy pilgrimage and came out of office. Even she came out earlier it took one hour to reach home.

After entering home she paid soul-less salams to Amman ji and went to her room. She spent next 15 minutes lying over her bed. Then she moved up to bath room for change over. She looked herself in a bathroom mirror and tried to recognize herself. Her bleak and unconscious face had a lot of complaints with existence. Finally, she thrown away the sanitary napkin in a litter-bucket and murmured “Thank God, I am not pregnant!” 

P.S: The story of this blog is inspired by thesis work of an art student.


Wednesday, January 4, 2012

New Year's Resolution

Neither I know Rumi nor Behlol

I know myself and know my goal

Mysticism of death

Can not dead my soul

Like a beacon of moth

My life has to play a role

If not understood for meaning

Verses & stanzas are just black of coal

Shahid come out of beloved’s deceit

You are not a traveler of a boat with hole

Friday, July 15, 2011

Mona Aaliya – My lady Aaliya

The pillow gossips remained till the confirmation of the sleeping of children. In aftermath Jamal had another splendid night with Aaliya.

With far away resonance of Aazan Jamal noticed movement from bed. Aaliya was taking her bath. Sonnet of sprinkling water droplets over floor of attach bath had a heavenly effects on ears like the way bhujaan purifies the sins of burhamans.

With half opened eyes, Jamal seen chaddar covered nymph standing on a prayer carpet. Watching last praying part of the congregation session was angelical. Aaliya angled her chaddar driven head to 90 degree right and then 180 degree left in order to conclude salams and raised hands.

Closed eyes and whispering lips were evident of the dedication towards praying. The monumentality of the composition and atmospheric illusionism were novel qualities of the sight that had contributed to the continuing fascination. For the moment Jamal felt jealousy for the God on account of Aaliya’s allegiance and submission.

Upon folding of prayer carpet Aaliya noticed the eyes of Jamal over her and said: What are you looking at? “Nothing!” Jamal replied in total absenteeism and while hiding his state counter asked, “What you were asking from God with this dedication?” In reply Aaliya just smiled with enigmatic facial expressions. The mesmerizing face glow was a look alike dawn marking beginning of twilight before sunrise for a surround darkness.

Aurora now had left her saffron bed,
And beams of early light the heav'ns o'erspread,
When, from a tow'r, the queen, with wakeful eyes,
Saw day point upward from the rosy skies.
(From Virgil's Aeneid)

Jamal thought that if he were Leonardo da Vinci the world surely witness portrait more promising then Mona Lisa.

(This blog is a sequel of earlier posted blog “Umeed-e-Bahar” dated November 27, 2009)

Friday, April 22, 2011

Rastoon pur ilzam tu aye ga

Garcha hon tarey rahbaar,

Rastoon pur ilzam tu aye ga,

Jub bhi chubhey ga sufar mien kanta,

Raastey se he poucha jae ga,

Ajab ja hai yeah duniya bhi,

Kuch na karney ka tu sila paye ga,

Qais sehra ke saraboon mien,

Laila ka dhoka khaye ga,

Shahid honge sub dar-o-deewar,

Rastoon pur ilzam tu aye ga

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Durre Shehwar & The Royal Ring

Qamar-ud-din Khan Siddiqi (Asif Jah - I), later known simply as "Nizam-ul-Mulk", was the founder of the Asif Jahi dynasty which ruled the Hyderabad state of India from 1720 to 1948. There is an old myth about Asif Jah that on one of his hunting trips he was offered some kulchas by a holy man and was asked to eat as many as he could. The Nizam could eat seven kulchas and the holy man then predicted that seven generations of his family would rule the state.

By the middle of 18th century the Nizams of Asif Jahi dynasty had quickly surpassed the Mughals ruling a vast dominion in South India. They were among the wealthiest people in the world and history acknowledges the fact that seven Nizams ruled the Hyderabad estate for nearly two centuries.

The Asif Jahi rulers were great patrons of literature, art, architecture, culture, jewelry collection and rich food. The Nizams ruled the state until its integration into the Indian Union in September 1948 after independence from the British.

Nawab Bahadur Usman Ali (Asif Jah VII) was the last Nizam of the princely state of Hyderabad. Though during his days as Nizam he was reputed to be the richest man in the world but he & his wife Dulhan Pasha Begum were worried about their elder son Azzam Jah since they were aware of the family myth of seven generations. Both were wanted to arrange marriage of their son to a princess; but she would have to be a real princess.

They inquired all over the world to find one, but nowhere could they get what they wanted. There were princesses enough, but it was difficult to find out whether they were real ones. There was always something about them that was not as it should be. So they were sad, for they would have liked very much to have a real princess so that the Asif Jahi dynasty will prosper further and stretch to further future generations.

One evening a terrible storm came on; there was thunder and lightning, and the rain poured down in torrents. Indeed it was a fearful night. Suddenly a knocking was heard at the main gate of Chowmahalla Palace - The Royal residence of Nizams, and the darbans went to open it. It was a princess who stood outside, but what a sight the rain and the wind had made her look. She was in a terrible state. The water streamed out of her hair and her clothes; it ran down into the toes of her shoes and out again at the heels. And yet she said that she was a real princess Durre Shehwar, a daughter of his imperial majesty Sultan Efendi of Ottoman Empire.

Well, we'll soon find that out, thought the Pasha Begum standing besides the Nizam, she was listening to the whole conversation. But she said nothing, went into the bed-room, took all the bedding off the bedstead, and laid a royal ring at the bottom; then she took twenty mattresses and laid them on the royal ring. On this the princess had to lie all night. Then she showed the girl to her room.

The rain beat down all night and lightning streaked the sky. In the morning she was asked how she had slept. The girl politely replied: "lt was a lovely soft bed, so soft that I could feel something hard under the mattress so that I am black and blue all over my body. It kept me awake all night!"

Now they knew that she was a real princess because she had felt the ring right through the twenty mattresses. Nobody but a real princess could be as sensitive as that. The Pasha Begum offered her apologies for laying a ring under her bed, before rushing off to her son. With this assessment she had actually selected a real princess Durre Shehwar for her son.

After the wedding, the royal ring was placed inside a gold and crystal box and exhibited in the Chowmahalla Palace Museum, where it may still be seen, if no one has stolen it.

(Adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Princess and the Pea)

P.S. PKR 6000/- is the realized price of my 25 years old bed sold today.