زیست کی بساط

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زیست کی بساط پر کھاتے رہے یوں مات ہم
کہ دنیا والوں کی طرح جینا ہمیں نہ آئیگا

کس کو ہماری چاہ ہے کس کو دکھائیں ناز ہم
جو روٹھ جائیں ہم کبھی کون ہمیں منائیگا

کس کو بتائوں میں یہاں کہ دل پہ کتنے زخم ہیں
ہے کون چاہ گر مرا، کون مرھم لگایئگا

راہِ وفا کیسی عجب، راہی بھی ہم، راہبر بھی ہم
بھٹک گئے جو ہم کبھی،صحیح راہ کون دکھائیگا 

مرنے کے بعد جو مرے، ذکرچھڑ گیا مرا
مرا خیال دل پہ ترے اک بوجھ سا بن جائیگا

انکہی سی اک بات جو سننے کو منتظر ہوں میں 
گزر گیا جو وقت یہ، پھر لوٹ کر نہ آیئگا

EIK MEHERBAAN HAI MERA! (For those who can not read Urdu) Nazm from ANKHAI BAATEIN

EIK MEHERBAAN HAI MERA!

Bekhwaab taareek raaton ki tanhai mein

Dard jab hadd se guzar jaata hai

Roshni dur tak nazar aati nahin

Umeed koi bhee bar aati nahin

Eik meherbaan hai mera

Jis ke narm seene mein chupa ke mein chehra apna

Bahaa leti hoon chund aansoo

Aur keh deti hun saare apne dukh such

Par wo ajab dost mera

Karta nahin mujh se koi bhee sawaal

Kehta nahin wo kuch bhee mujh se

Bas baree khamoshi se

Sunta rehta hai mere shikwe saare

Aur apni narm si aaghosh mein

Bohat pyar baree narmee se

Jazb kar leta hai mere saare aansoo

Baant leta hai wo sab bojh

Jo hain dil pe mere

Mera takya jo mera ghumkhwaar bhee hai!

Mera takya jo mera humraaz bhee hai!!

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 Translation

In the sleepless dark nights of pain and despair, 

When my heartache knows no bounds,

I can not find any light in my path,

Nor do I have any hope left in my heart,

I have a well-wisher,

In whose soft bosom I hide my face,

And shed a few tears,

And share with him my pains and sorrows,

But strangely this old friend of mine,

Never asks me any questions,

Neither does he say anything,

But very queitly,

Listens to all my complaints,

And with great love and care,

Allows all my tears to sink into his soft bosom,

In this manner he shares with me

All the pain my heart is heavy with,

My pillow who shares all my pain and woes

My pillow who is a keeper of all my secrets!

 

 

 

 

GHAZAL FROM ANKAHI BAATEIN…. (For my friends who can not read Urdu)

Phool se khushboo juda hoti hai faqat eik baar
Ye bikharti tou phir se laut kar aati nahin

Aankh se aansoo jo tapka, kya wo daaman karta tar?
Boond se tou pyaas sehra ki kabhee jaati nahin!

Hum tou thei wo zinda-dil ghum pe kabhee rotey na thei
Ab hua hai kya ke khushyon pe hansee aati nahin

Khud hi phoolon ko masal ke hai ye maali ko gila
Mere gulshan mein na jaane kyun bahaar aati nahin!

Khwaab dekhoon tou ho shayad zeest ki kuch talkhee kum
Kya karun pur neend mujh ko raat bhar aati nahin!

Hai jo qismat mein likha wo pura tou hoga zurur
Waqt se pehle tou kisi ko maut bhe aati nahin!

غزل…. Ghazal from ANKAHI BAATEIN

آنکھ سے جو گر گئے ان کی نہیں قیمت کوئی
ہیرے تو وہ آنسو ہیں جن کو پی جاتے ہیں ہم


ساتھ چلنے کی ہے تمنا پر پائوں ہیں زخمی مرے
آگے نکل جاتی ہے دنیا پیچھے رہ جاتے ہیں ہم


بس یہ مشکل آخری ہے آگے ہیں آسانیاں
ہرنئی مشکل پہ یوں اپنے دل کو سمجھاتے ہیں ہم


راہِ الفت کے مسافر جب بھٹکتے ہیں تو انہیں
شمعیں اشکوں کی جلا کر راہ دکھلاتے ہیں ہم


غم کواپنے سامنے دنیا کے رسوا کیوں کریں
دل پہ جو لگتی ہیں چوٹیں ہنس کے سہہ جاتے ہیں ہم


دکھ دیے تو جھیلنے کی تاب بھی اللہ نے دی
ہر گھڑی صد شکر مالک کا بجا لاتے ہیں ہم

MORE CONFESSIONS OF A GRANDMOTHER! (Dedicated to my darling granddaughter Javeria Elahi)

 I traced my index finger tenderly down the delicate features of my granddaughter; she seemed so vulnerable as looked at me with a timid look on her little face. I exclaimed to my daughter who was sitting propped up in pillows in her hospital bed, “She is so pretty, but I will have to admit that I would never be able to love her as much as your first born”. As if instinctively, my daughter nearly grabbed her three days old daughter away from me. Holding her closer to her bosom she enquired in an indignant tone, “Why do you say that Ammi, isnt she my daughter just like Sadia is?” I laughed at her reaction (although I felt a bit surprised), “Relax darling, of course I love her too, but the bond with a first grand child is different, but maybe you will understand my feelings when you yourself will become a grandma!” I was adamant in my confession as I took the little one back from her arms and busied myself in changing her nappy.

Javeria (as she was named later) was a loveable child and although I carried on with delight the duty Grandmas usually perform when their daughters are convalescing after childbirth, some how I could not feel the same rush of ecstatic happiness I had felt more than three years back when her elder sister was born!

Days passed into weeks and weeks into months. My grand daughter was growing up, she seemed to bubble with life, was more demanding than her sister and definitely possessed the qualities which endear a child to everyone around him/her.

Snuggling closer to me whenever I took her in my arms, she seemed to look at me with questioning eyes. “Why should I be loved less if I was born a second child” she seemed to challenge me! I often felt that she remembered the discourse between me and her mother on that day in the hospital! Or maybe my inner guilt was playing games with me!

Even before I realized it, I found myself deeply in love with my second grand daughter. I would call my daughter just to hear her cooings on the phone and whenever she came to visit with her mother, I just couldn’t put the darling child down, carrying her in my arms the maximum possible time.

Yes, I had to admit to myself that she was making inroads into my heart. I was confused. My first grand daughter was as dear to me as ever, but somehow her little sister was sharing the same amount of love. After her first birthday passed and Javeria started to speak a few words, the loving way she called me Naneemee (Her way of saying Nani Ammi), her sticky kisses when I took her in my arms and the way her pretty face lit up with a happy smile when she saw me, I slowly realized that I was fighting a losing battle.

On her second birthday I had to make the confession! On her card I wrote, “My darling Javeria, this is the best day to admit that YOU are second to NONE! And I accept my defeat with pride. Because having a granddaughter as loving and caring as you, is no little honor for me!

Forever yours,

Naneemee.

          After Javeria, although I have been blessed with more grandchildren, I never made the mistake of making any above mentioned claim again. I realized that each grandchild holds a special place and brings with him/her a new fountain of love which erupts from the depths of a Grandma’s heart.

          My grandchildren have taught me that love defies all rules of Mathematics! It multiplies when it is divided, has no option of subtraction and keeps on adding up with time, until it reaches infinity!

          (Yesterday was Javeria’s twelfth birthday and in moments of nostalgia, I went down memories lane! And I found myself smiling at my folly as I remembered my hurried claim when she was just three days old!)

 

I SHALL BOUNCE BACK…. INSHA ALLAH!

I have been through this phase earlier, or to be more specific many times earlier! This hollow feeling….. as if I am living in a vacuum! Ideas evade me, and I find myself unable to focus on the ones that come and go through my head like fluttering butterflies. It has been weeks since I have written anything new. But this span of un-creativity also brings a sense of frustration and deprivation.

My all time favorite novelist Pearl. S Buck says “I don’t wait for moods. You accomplish nothing if you do that. Your mind must know it has got to get down to work.” And this quote becomes my inspiration!

I feel that the days passing by are being wasted, that I should write something, anything! But as I scan my mind for ideas, I feel totally lost. There are times when they rush in so quickly I feel breathless, but there are spans when I can not come up with anything I feel would interest my readers.

Finally, an idea struck in today! Why not make this very feeling my new topic, because I feel every writer experiences these phases of hibernation in their writing careers. This reminds me that I do not have much of a career! A few published articles, a published book and a blog site can not make one a recognized writer. The basic requirement of being a good one is having a lot of readers, hits and followers on your blog site, and a book which sells like hot cakes. And I can boast of none of these!

Writing for me is not only a hobby, a means of spending my spare time in a positive manner; it also brings a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment. I sometimes feel that a part of me grows older after every blog or article I write and a part of me dies! Yes, the pain of creating something new is definitely experienced every time, but I love to go through this agony again and again.  

I do not write for fame, neither for money, but to give a path to my inner feelings, frustrations and emotions. I do not want to share my woes with my readers because I abhor washing my linen in public. But I like to share experiences which may help them to recognize and face the harsh realities of life. Personal traumas, hopes, aspirations and yes sometimes even disappointments teach us a lot and I love to share these lessons with anyone who is interested. Positive thinking is my plus point and I want to spread this frame of mind to people around me.

So, my positive emotion for today is that I promise myself that I shall bounce back, comes out of this period of hibernation! Finally I have realized that writing has become my soul’s bread and butter. I can not survive without it. So, I will start writing something new. Very soon!  Insha Allah!