Egos and Fears

For those of you who don’t understand Urdu, here is a list of words which will help you understand this Urdu poem better:

Zaar-zaar= wailing, Rusuukh= influence, Sartaaj= leader, Kaarvaan= caravan, Humnava= friend, Qaael= agreeing, Guftagoo= talks, Parwaaz= flight, Nashishton= get-togethers, zaaviye= angles/point of view, Vast-e-samandar= middle of ocean, Saahil= shore, Aarzoo= wish, Anaa= self/ego, Lagzish= shaking/digression, Lagzish-e-paiham= constant shaking.

Do pal ke liye saath the,
Do pal ke liye jazbaat the,
Angdayi li lamho ne kuch is tarah,
Ki agle pal hi hum zaar-zaar the,

Insani fitrat ke beshak hain qasoor,
Begaane rusuukh kaa bhi dakhal,
Lekin apni kismat ke to hum sartaaj the,

Kaarvaan to chalta raha,
Waqt bhi badalta raha,
Phir bhi kyun us humnava ke qaael hum aaj the,

Guftagoo hoti rahi,
Armaan bhi parwaaz bharte rahe,
Milan pe usne kaha ki humari nashishton ke zaaviye kuch aur the,

Lagta wo mera kuch bhi nahi,
Apne hi raston ke hum musaafir rahe,
Bichda phir to kyu laga ki vast-e-samandar saahil ke liye betaab the,

Khwahish-e-dil saanson ko jakadti rahi,
Rok le use ye aarzoo dil mein ghut-ti rahi,
Ab anaa inko kaise samjhaye ki wo zameen aur aasmaan the,

Wo hansta tha, khilkhilata tha,
Lagzishen dil ko de jaata tha,
Zabaan ko lagzish-e-paiham milne ke hum mohtaaj the.



Trouble In Paradise

Shaam ka ye hasin manzar,
Khud me kuch yun hi gunguna raha
Jaise ki teri shararat se bhari
Wo tera mil ke bichhadna,
Mujhe bikhra raha hai,
Mujhe yaad aa raha hai. . .

Subah me wo sardi ki
dhoop ki tarah tera milna,
Hothon pe mahsoor kar dene
wali hansi,
Aur hawaa ke jhonke se teri lat
ka wo chehre pe girna,
Mujhe behka raha hai,
Mujhe yaad aa raha hai. . .

Teri aankho k aagey duniya ke
paimano ka koi wajud nahi,
Itni gehri meri duniya ka hona,
Jumbishe bejaa mere hothon pe
Lekin phir bhi tere saamne
khamosh musawar banke khade
Mujhe rula raha hai,
Mujhe yaad aa rha hai. . .

Samaa ka tham jaana,
Kuch is tarah tera mere pass
Thandi hawa ke jhonke ki tarah
teri zulfo ka mujhe choo kar
paar chale jana,
Mujhe sada ke liye wahin thehra
raha hai,
Mujhe yaad aa raha hai.



“Having her was the best charm of my life. Her charisma, her motivations, her jokes were really the order of the day. Racing deep down towards the library of memoirs, I pulled out a script from among the ruins. The ruins told me the real story. They were crying for attention. And they needed it sooner rather than later. It was then that it hit me that after bifurcating our stairway to the heaven of our dreams, the two of us had come really, really far. I was delving deep into an unfathomable ocean of picture sequences of her when I felt the script in my hand was frowning at me, like she would do if I didn’t keep all my senses transfixed on her face when she talked. I meekly looked at the script for a moment before deciding to open it up. As I opened it, a dead rose, martyred in the way of love, gave way to the holy scripture it clung on to for so long. My face lit up like the sun was smiling behind me, like it does so often with moon at nights. It reminded me of the first time when I got to really know her, it was the time when I decided to hold hands with her, forever.” :



A Figment of Imagination

Sometimes what you plan doesn’t go far. You suffer heartbreaks in your paradise. Things go awry. But then what doesn’t happen in this world! You just smile and let the world know that you’re on the move. But what about reality? You know very well that the reality is far from it. After a day full of faking it, you go back to the darkness in bed trying to be your real self, feeding on stuff you’d have loved to take their course:



When the trial gets over,
When the body feels living again,
When I knock out the tribulations,
When I get much farther,
We will be meeting again,
We will be alive again..
With that man above proud again..
I will be seeing you again.



Aberration. Yeah, you heard it right. This period was just an
aberration. Time to go back to the murky life, a life devoid of any
life, where mechanical fluency is the order of the day. Those routines
which will tucker you out and those hypocrites waiting in the alley to
bite back on you. Normal service will resume and you'll see frustrated
faces all over, again. Only if friends were omnipresent, only if we
could savour any moment all our life, only if we could take our
happiness with us. Alas! Only if aberrations lasted longer.
A clumsy figure, a drooping shoulder, a barrage of do's and don't's on my
back, I backtrack to the place I'm the king of. Into the oblivion. Adios.