Raigani (Wastage)

Poem and Translation:

ﻣﯿﮟ ﮐﻤﺮﮮ ﻣﯿﮟ ﭘِﭽﮭﻠﮯ ﺍِﮐﺘﯿﺲ ﺩﻧﻮﮞ ﺳﮯ ﻓﻘﻂ

ﺍِﺱ ﺣﻘﯿﻘﺖ ﮐﺎ ﻧﻘﺼﺎﻥ ﮔﻨﻨﮯ ﮐﯽ ﮐﻮﺷﺶ ﻣﯿﮟ

ﺍُﻟﺠﮭﺎ ﮨﻮﺍ ﮨﻮﮞ ﮐﮧ ﺗُﻮ ﺟﺎ ﭼﮑﯽ ﮨﮯ

ﺗﺠﮭﮯ ﺭﺍﺋﯿﮕﺎﻧﯽ ﮐﺎ ﺭﺗﯽ ﺑﺮﺍﺑﺮ ﺍﻧﺪﺍﺯﮦ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﮨﮯ

For the last thirty-one days
confined in this room
am just trying to fathom
the total loss occurred over the fact
that you are no longer here…
You sure my love got no clue at all
what sort of damage this is triggering.

ﺗﺠﮭﮯ ﯾﺎﺩ ﮨﮯ ﻭﮦ ﺯﻣﺎﻧ

ﺟﻮ ﮐﯿﻤﭙﺲ ﮐﯽ ﭘﮕﮉﻧﮉﯾﻮﮞ ﭘﮧ ﭨﮩﻠﺘﮯ ﮨﻮﺋﮯ ﮐﭧ ﮔﯿﺎ ﺗﮭﺎ؟

ﺗﺠﮭﮯ ﯾﺎﺩ ﮨﮯ ﺟﺐ ﻗﺪﻡ ﭼﻞ ﺭﮨﮯ ﺗﮭﮯ؟

ﮐﮧ ﺍِﮎ ﭘﯿﺮ ﺗﯿﺮﺍ ﺗﮭﺎ ﺍﻭﺭ ﺍﯾﮏ ﻣﯿﺮﺍ

Do you remember those times
that we often spent
inside the campus hallways
just strolling back and forth?
Do you recall when steps of mine
were synchronized to the exact
beats of footsteps of yours?

ﻗﺪﻡ ﻭﮦ ﺟﻮ ﺩﮬﺮﺗﯽ ﭘﮧ ﺁﻭﺍﺯ ﺩﯾﺘﮯ

ﮐﮧ ﺟﯿﺴﮯ ﮨﻮ ﺭﺍگا ﮐﻮﺋﯽ ﻣُﻄﺮﺑﻮﮞ ﮐﺎ

ﻗﺪﻡ ﺟﯿﺴﮯ ﺳﺎ ﭘﺎ، ﮔﺎ ﻣﺎ ﭘﺎ ﮔﺎ ﺳﺎ ﺭﮮ

ﻭﮦ ﻃﺒﻠﮯ ﮐﯽ ﺗِﺮﮐﭩﮫ ﭘﮧ ﺗﮏ ﺩِﮬﻦ ﺩﮬﻨﮏ ﺩِﮬﻦ

Steps that echoed
as they covered the shore
like monks with wind-chimes
performing the morning chores.
<Sa re ga ma – ga ma sa re…>
As in the drums thumping
like the raindrops on the floor…
<tak dhinak dhin, dhinak din tak>

ﺗﻨﮏ ﺩﮬﻦ ﺩﮬﻨﺎﺩﮬﻦ ﺑﮩﻢ ﭼﻞ ﺭﮨﮯ ﺗﮭﮯ

ﻗﺪﻡ ﺟﻮ ﻣﺴﻠﺴﻞ ﺍﮔﺮ ﭼﻞ ﺭﮨﮯ ﺗﮭﮯ

ﺗﻮ ﮐﺘﻨﮯ ﮔﻮﯾﻮﮞ ﮐﮯ ﮔﮭﺮ ﭼﻞ ﺭﮨﮯ ﺗﮭﮯ

<Tinak dhin, dhana dhin>
Steps that were marching
on and on…
And till they were marching,
so were burning
the stoves of many melodious bards
till dawn.

مگر جس گھڑی تو نے اس راہ کو

میرے تنہا قدم کے حوالے کیا تھا

ان سروں کی کہانی وہیں رک گئی تھی

But very moment
you left those pathways
in the sole care of my secluded steps…
Those serenades, those tunes
amidst their way, took an indefinite halt.

ﮐﺘﻨﯽ ﻓﻨﮑﺎﺭﯾﺎﮞ، ﮐﺘﻨﯽ ﺑﺎﺭﯾﮑﯿﺎﮞ

ﮐﺘﻨﮯ ”ﮐﻠﯿﺎﮞ، ﺑﻼﻭﻝ” ﮔﻮﯾﻮﮞ ﮐﮯ

ﮨﻮﻧﭩﻮﮞ ﭘﮧ ﺁﻧﮯ ﺳﮯ ﭘﮩﻠﮯ ﻓﻨﺎ ﮨﻮ ﮔﺌﮯ

All that craftsmanship, that finesse,
that attention to the details…
All those seeds and buds that
could’ve blossomed right from the off-set.
Just perished even before
coming into the world.

ﮐﺘﻨﮯ ﻧﺼﺮﺕ ﻓﺘﺢ، ﮐﺘﻨﮯ ﻣﮩﺪﯼ ﺣﺴﻦ

ﻣﻨﺘﻈﺮ ﺭﮦ ﮔﺌﮯ

ﮐﮧ ﮨﻤﺎﺭﮮ ﻗﺪﻡ ﭘﮭﺮ ﺳﮯ ﺍُﭨﮭﻨﮯ ﻟﮕﯿﮟ

How many of Nusrat-Fateh, Mehdi Hassan,
Elvis Presley and Bryan Adams…
Just kept waiting in this longing
that one day perhaps
our steps would once again break the pause.

ﺗﺠﮫ ﮐﻮ ﻣﻌﻠﻮﻡ ﮨﮯ ﺟﺲ ﮔﮭﮍﯼ

ﻣﯿﺮﯼ ﺁﻭﺍﺯ ﺳﻦ ﮐﮯ ﺗﻮ ﺍِﮎ ﺯﺍﻭﯾﮯ ﭘﮧ

ﭘﻠﭧ ﮐﺮ ﻣﮍﯼ ﺗﮭﯽ ﻭﮨﺎﮞ ﺳﮯ

ﺭﯾﻠﯿﭩﯿﻮﯾﭩﯽ ﮐﺎ ﺟﻨﺎﺯﮦ ﺍُﭨﮭﺎ ﺗﮭﺎ

Do you recall that specific moment,
when right away on my calling,
you used to turn toward me
at a certain angle.
The relativity and all its theory
got debunked that very moment.

ﮐﮧ ﺍُﺱ ﺯﺍﻭﯾﮯ ﮐﯽ ﮐﺸِﺶ ﻣﯿﮟ ﮨﯽ

ﯾﻮﻧﺎﻥ ﮐﮯ ﻓﻠﺴﻔﯽ

ﺳﺐ ﺯﻣﺎﻧﻮﮞ ﮐﯽ ﺗﺮﺗﯿﺐ ﺑﺮﺑﺎﺩ ﮐﺮ ﮐﮯ

ﺗﺠﮭﮯ ﺩﯾﮑﮭﻨﮯ ﺁ ﮔﺌﮯ ﺗﮭﮯ

On an extreme pull of that very angle,
scapping all the
arrangement of constellations and galaxies,
The Greek philosophers
arrived to see you,
just to become a witness.

ﮐﮧ ﺗﯿﺮﮮ ﺟُﮭﮑﺎﺅ ﮐﯽ ﺗﻤﺜﯿﻞ ﭘﮧ ﺍﭘﻨﯽ

ﺗِﺮﭼﮭﯽ ﻟﮑﯿﺮﻭﮞ ﮐﻮ ﺧﻢ ﺩﮮ ﺳﮑﯿﮟ

ﺍﭘﻨﯽ ﺍﮐﮍﯼ ﮨﻮﺋﯽ ﮔﺮﺩﻧﻮﮞ ﮐﻮ ﻟﯿﮯ

ﺍﭘﻨﮯ ﻭﻗﺘﻮﮞ ﻣﯿﮟ ﭘﻠﭩﯿﮟ

ﺟﯿﻮﻣﯿﭩﺮﯼ ﮐﻮ ﺟﻨﻢ ﺩﮮ ﺳﮑﯿﮟ

So that on a silhouette of very curves
that occur due to your bend,
they sharpen their lines
and smoothen up their crescents…
Taking their stiff necks,
they turn back – the wheel of time
to emancipate a new subject…
naming it a “Geometry”.

ﺍﺏ ﺑﮭﯽ ﮐﭽﮫ ﻓﻠﺴﻔﯽ، ﺍﭘﻨﮯ ﭘﮭﯿﮑﮯ ﺯﻣﺎﻧﻮﮞ ﺳﮯ

ﺑﮭﺎﮔﮯ ﮨﻮﺋﮯ ﻣﯿﺮﮮ ﺭﺳﺘﻮﮞ ﭘﮧ ﺁﻧﮑﮭﯿﮟ ﺑﭽﮭﺎﺋﮯ ﮨﻮﺋﮯ

ﺍﭘﻨﯽ ﺩﺍﻧﺴﺖ ﻣﯿﮟ ﯾﻮﮞ ﮐﮭﮍﮮ ﮨﯿﮟ ﮐﮧ ﺟﯿﺴﮯ

ﻭﮦ ﺩﺍﻧﺶ ﮐﺎ ﻣﻨﺒﻊ ﯾﮩﯿﮟ ﭘﮧ ﮐﮩﯿﮟ ﮨﮯ

ﻣﮕﺮ ﻣﮍ ﮐﮯ ﺗﮑﻨﮯ ﮐﻮ ﺗُﻮ ﮨﯽ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﮨﮯ

Still, few philsophers
escaping from their barren worlds…
would yet stand on these very ways
spreading their graze…
As in a hope to locate – that very spot
from where all the wisdom cascades.
But alas, to repeat that same angle
you’re not present.

ﺗﻮ ﮐﯿﺴﮯ ﻓﻠﻮﺭﻧﺲ ﮐﯽ ﺗﻨﮓ ﮔﻠﯿﻮﮞ ﺳﮯ

ﮐﻮﺋﯽ ﮈﯼ ﻭﻧﭽﯽ ﺍُﭨﮭﮯ

ﮐﯿﺴﮯ ﮨﺴﭙﺎﻧﯿﮧ ﻣﯿﮟ ﭘِﮑﺎﺳﻮ ﺑﻨﮯ

ﺍُﻥ ﮐﯽ ﺁﻧﮑﮭﻮﮞ ﮐﻮ ﺗُﻮ ﺟﻮ ﻣﯿﺴﺮ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﮨﮯ

So how come now
from the narrow streets of Florence,
would emerge some Da-vinci…?
How from the coasts of Hispania
a gift from Picasso
will come into being…?
As none of them now
will have you ever seen.

ﯾﮧ ﺳﺐ ﺗﯿﺮﮮ ﻣﯿﺮﮮ ﺍﮐﭩﮭﮯ

ﻧﮧ ﮨﻮﻧﮯ ﮐﯽ ﻗﯿﻤﺖ ﺍﺩﺍ ﮐﺮ ﺭﮨﮯ ﮨﯿﮟ

ﮐﮧ ﺗﯿﺮﮮ ﻧﮧ ﮨﻮﻧﮯ ﺳﮯ ﮨﺮ ﺍِﮎ ﺯﻣﺎﮞ ﻣﯿﮟ

ﮨﺮ ﺍِﮎ ﻋﻠﻢ ﻭ ﻓﻦ ﻣﯿﮟ ﮨﺮ ﺍِﮎ ﺩﺍﺳﺘﺎﮞ ﻣﯿﮟ

ﮐﻮﺋﯽ ﺍﯾﮏ ﭼﮩﺮﮦ ﺑﮭﯽ ﺗﺎﺯﮦ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﮨﮯ

ﺗﺠﮭﮯ ﺭﺍﺋﯿﮕﺎﻧﯽ ﮐﺎ ﺭﺗﯽ ﺑﺮﺍﺑﺮ ﺍﻧﺪﺍﺯﮦ ﻧﮩﯿﮟ ﮨﮯ

They all it seems are paying the cost
of you and I not being along each other anymore.
That, it’s due to your very absence now,
in all the worlds, in all the times,
all the art, literature, music, or rhymes
there’s no facet left
that worthy of attending.
You sure my love got no clue at all
what sort of damage this is triggering.

— Original poem by Sohaib Mugheera Siddqui
— Translation dedicated to all those who face something similar. It’s a struggle of having a logical mind but with a heart-wrenching emotional experience.

Credits: Thanks to Mr. Usman Ghani @UGPK (no longer on Twitter) whose recitation of the poem, introduced me to this masterpiece couple of years back.