जहां न प्यार की दुखद खंजीर हो
जहाँ न हो हवस की, लालसा की तड़प
जहाँ न वादों की जंगाली ज़ंजीर हो
जहां सब का ख़याल हो
जहां किसी से दूरी नहीं, रंजिश नहीं
जहाँ किसी से न बवाल हो
उस जहाँ की ही तमन्ना थी
पर जनम से ही दर्द-ऐ-फासिल में था
और सदियों से था इक आंधी का ज़ोर
कि उस झील का दीदार मुझे हासिल न था
ढूँढता रहा सीने में झुलसती आग को लिए
हर पत्ता हर पत्थर पलट कर, जला कर देखा
कभी अपने में तो कभी बाहर, उसी के लिए
---
दर्द-ऐ-फासिल: The pain of separation
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21 comments:
banal...
especially after dear and duck!
Arrey wah, aap toh kavi bhi ho!!!
I can't say good work, because I couldn't understand many of the hindi/urdu type of words.
And with regards to comment one, I have to say this. That while you have the balls to publish a negative comment, he is hiding in anonymity!!!! This is certainly not banal. It was quite good (Whatever I understood of it).
जुस्तजू हो तो सफ़र ख़त्म कहाँ होता है ,
यूं तो हर मोड़ पे मंजिल का गुमान होता है.
_______________________________
मंजलों से बेगाना, आज भी सफ़र मेरा
रात बेसहर मेरी, दर्द बेअसर मेरा
_______________________________
-Ghulam Rabbani Taban
khanjeer = dagger
bazm = a poem
ranjish = hurt, complaint, sorrow
and you are right about bawaal, it does mean a riot of some kind.
This is a poem written as an experiment in a specific rhythm.
Its contents, though topical, are of a "complaining" kind, and that is usually the case with such kind of poetry, e.g. (not equating myself in anyway) Ghalib's "Hazaaron Khwahishen Aisi..." or Unknown-to-me's "Kabhi Kisi ko Muqammal..."
A well balanced and expressive poem. Hardly banal! Here's one from Faiz with an unnecessary translation:
Maqaam Faiz koi raah mein jacha hi nahin
Jo kue yaar se nikle to sue daar chale
I could never find a goal to identify with. Emerging from the beloved's street , I landed straight at the gallows.
लाल सुरा की धार लपट सी कह न इसे देना ज्वाला,
फेनिल मदिरा है, मत इसको कह देना उर का छाला,
दर्द नशा है इस मदिरा का विगत स्मृतियाँ साकी हैं,
पीड़ा में आनंद जिसे हो, आए मेरी मधुशाला।।१४।
यम आयेगा साकी बनकर साथ लिए काली हाला,
पी न होश में फिर आएगा सुरा-विसुध यह मतवाला,
यह अंितम बेहोशी, अंतिम साकी, अंतिम प्याला है,
पथिक, प्यार से पीना इसको फिर न मिलेगी मधुशाला।
Neend bhi khuli na thi ki hai dhoop dhal gayi,
Paon jab talak uthe ki zindagi fisal gayi,
Paat-paat jhar gaye ki shaakh-shaakh jal gayi,
Chah to nikal saki na par umar nikal gayi.
Geet ashk ban gaye,
chhand ho dafan gaye,
Saath ke sabhi diye dhuan-dhuan pehen gaye,
Aur hum jhuke-jhuke,
Mod par ruke-ruke,
Umar ke chadhaav ka utaar dekhte rahe,
Karvan guzar gaya, Gubar dekhte rahe!
Neeraj
Bhindi:
Are you sure its Faiz cause Faiz was a committed leftist and clear enough goals.
What a lovely poem!
धर्म ग्रन्थ सब जला चुकी है, जिस के अंतर की ज्वाला
मंदिर-मस्जिद-गिरजे, सबको तोड़ चुका है जो मतवाला
पंडित, मोमिन, पादरियों के फंदों को जो काट चुका
कर सकती है आज उसी का स्वागत मेरी मधुशाला
Seems like everyone else is quoting Madhushala and not giving credit to the original writer....plagarizers....all of you (LOL).
Here is "my" (fav) contribution
याद न आए दूखमय जीवन इससे पी लेता हाला,
जग चिंताओं से रहने को मुक्त, उठा लेता प्याला,
शौक, साध के और स्वाद के हेतु पिया जग करता है,
पर मै वह रोगी हूँ जिसकी एक दवा है मधुशाला।।७८।
Harman, you need to put up a blog on Madhushala....seems like lot of interest out there. Big B did a blog post on it recently...it was great!
banal : trite; without freshness or originality; commonplace; stale; usual
The poem begins with a premise of a quest of an ideal world/situation which ends at a whining note of failure. It is written in romantic vein of failure and quest becoming the redeeming feature of the protagonist, a victim syndrome in place, some thing Mirza Ghalib specializes in as the poster has given a refered to him as an inspiration in the comments. Nida Fazli's ghazal ' kabhi kisi ko...'' is again in a defeatist mood for being a misfit in the present world, trying to find El dorado, and missing both in the end. Since such experiments have been done several times and worded better, the poem post , in my opnion, is banal and especially when the poster had posted Dear and Duck story previously.
as a feedback on poetic diction:
'lalsa' would be better if it were ' khawaish', as the former is a typical hindi language word, sticking out in a poem with a urdu flavour. Sixth line should end as ' bawal ne ho' to give it a better 'rythm'.
posting comments anonymously is accpetable on blogsphere and valid criticism ought to be taken as it is and not ascribed any malafide intentions.
Anonymous 1.56:
You have a point of view but outright condemnation as banal is perhaps unfair if not anti-constructive---as the poster asserts he is neither bidding for a nobel or ratna.
Defeatism/effeteness as a fashion tends to pervade large segments of Urdu and Hindi and Indian literature( Sarat, Batalvi) but within this limit Ghalib is certainly a philosophical and literary giant and world-class, transcending his time and place.
Anonymous and pseudonymous comments are accepted and need not be ostracised particularly.
.
Yes, anonymous comments are legitimate (till they are made illegal) so long as they do not stoop low.
Anonymity of comments serves a definite purpose since it gives a greater comfort zone and freedom, provided it is not misused.
Some blogs don't accept ananymous comments---it is their own choice. That too is the privelege of moderation.
The elder Bachhan never touched a drop of liquor in his life. When questioned he gave the immortal reply:
मैं कायस्थ, कुलोधाभव मेरे पुरखों ने इतना ढाला
मेरे तन के लहु में है पिछत्तर प्रतिशत हाला
पुश्तैनी अधिकार मुझे है मदिरालय के आँगन पर
मेरे दादा परदादा के हाथ बिकी थी यह मधुशाला
Yahan to achha khasa kavi darbar jaari hai! Suhan allah!
Di:
Pesh hai kalam e shahenshah e nazm (besharta kanchi waale ki kanchi na chali)
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.
Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
Aap ka Ulloo
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