Lately…

This poem is a response to Miss Aminah Tasleem’s melancholic words in poem: 7:49 AM

random-wallpapers-boat-alone-wallpapers-wallpaper-31953[1]

Lately, I’ve been tracing,
the footsteps on shore,
before waves come sweeping.
I found, those who submerged,
gave great thought before drowning.

For, I’ve too been swimming,
in river of memories, lately,
I felt touched,
by carcass of bodies,
they’re animated, steered by beasts.

Lately, I have been roaming,
corners of capital,
where people went missing.
Found there myself,
facing mirrors haunting!

For, I had been discovering,
statues of stone,
etched in abandoned places.
I related, how they’re frozen
in pangs of longing…

Lately, I’ve been dreaming,
about lands in fantasy,
a place where humans met
the guardian angels,
I gather, angels were relocating!

For, I’ve been wishing
days from a tranquil memory,
when ruled the living,
but I heard fragments urging…
‘let us be, stop chasing!’

Lately, I have been smiling,
in public appearances, the
shows of avid performances,
leaving each a note,
“Few acts worth remembering”!

For, I’ve been visiting,
the markets, to shed some old stuff,
just to feel light-weighted.
But, I ended up acquiring, what was
left by someone migrating!

Lately, I’ve been reading,
poems of secluded artists,
now no longer writing…
I found, nips become frozen,
when memories start unrolling.

Lately, I’ve been writing,
poems to those who’ve parted,
even when none’s answering.
For I found early,
when ducts open flood gate,
one shouldn’t be resisting.

– Dedicated to late time recalling…

solitude-image[1]

Image Credits:
1. Boat alone – stock wallpaper.
2. Solitude – stock wallpaper.

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The Last Letter

Some letters that never reached their destination. And some letters that did...

Some letters that never reached their destination. And some letters that did…

“Though now I realize we can never be together. I still want you to remember that I loved you with all of my heart. And always wished to hear the same from you…”

That last paragraph, was the last conversation we had. It uncovered a book unread after the dust was blown off from it. I was holding her letter, without having any idea, what to do next. It was like I was handed the universe unknown to explore, but my size was shrinking by each moment, while the universe was expanding by tenths.

“Did you see her again?”
“No.”
“Any where about?”
“No.”
“How do you feel about it?”, He asked.

My Psychiatrist is a graduate from the Harvard. And he’s the closest thing that I have for a friend, as far as the generation-X definition of friend goes. It’s just that I pay him in dollars rather than scratching his back. But like all friends that I had, he just waits for me to come quickly at a point. And here I don’t want to miss, even the tiniest of detail.

“I have learned my lesson. Perhaps.”
“Perhaps?”
“Look Doc, I know I cannot repeat it, I can’t reverse the clock, I can’t go and check if I would succeed after all this. It’s gone to never return again. All I can do is replay the memory again and again, just to find myself at place, in those corners, under those shades, with that ambiance… where I missed everything, like I wasn’t there.” – I had no way to tell him, what I sought.

“And what good would that do?”

That eve after giving him a visit, I went to a place I and her used to hang around. The rocks are same, the bench, the garden, the trees everything is same. This park used to be the place where we use to discuss the books we read. Love stories, fantasies, science fiction, philosophy and what not. Everything was there, but unconnected, like they had a feud on something. And they’re giving me this look, like I’m some stranger that has walked in amid their thing.

I have a book, its jacket, the pages, and words on them, but I lost my bookmark somewhere. I have no idea what chapter did we left on, what was the last letter that we read… I have no idea from where to move ahead.

She once narrated to me a story of a sailor that was amidst a journey and due to a sea storm, his ship got sunk, and he barely made it to the island near by, he was stranded. I asked her, if he had a compass on him or something like a flare gun, anything to go find his way home… she said, “It doesn’t matter, the ship was everything to him.”

The leaves are falling from trees, like it is a ground that loves them more.  Though it’s too late and I should be going, but I feel like home.

Bench we read letters on, bench we left some letters for.

Bench we read letters on, bench we left some letters for.

– Written as a response to an engrossing piece written by Mam Aima Jamal Yousuf, “Unrequited Love“.

Art/ Picture References:
1. Undelivered Envelope For Letter – coronel.org.uk
2. Treecat Memorial – StarLink-IRC

Why my heart skipped the beat, I recalled… (Dil Dhadakne Ka Sabab Yaad Aaya)

– Rendition by Ghulam Ali (Youtube)

Translation:

Why my heart skipped the beat, I recalled.
It was your memory that teased me, I recalled.

It is tough today to even brace myself oh friend,
strange is my perplexing state; it’s you who I recalled.

Day was passing already giving some tough time,
and then there’s your promise of evening, I recalled.

Those forgotten promises of devotion of yours,
one would indeed become lifeless, if recalled.

Once again crossed my sight – countless people,
Once more some city of ecstasy, I recalled.

Even I would have revealed the state of heart,
was only by the time you left that I recalled.

Sitting in a shadow of tranquility today “Nasir”,
I cried a lot, of you what I care, I recalled.

– Dedicated to nostalgic memories…

Dil dhadakne ka sabab yaad aya
woh teri yaad thi, ab yaad aaya

aaj mushkil tha sambhalna ae dost
tu musibat mai ajab yaad aaya

din guzara tha badhi mushkil se
phir tera wadah e sham yaad aaya

haal e dil hum bhi sunate lekin
jub woh rukhsat huwa tab yaad aaya

beht ker saya e gul may nasir
hum bohut ro aye woh jub yaad aaya

– Original poetry by Nasir Kazmi; Has been performed by many legendary singers: Noor Jehan, Asha Bhosle, Pankaj Udhas, Shehnaz Begum and Ghulam Ali saheb.

Rendition by: Madam Noor Jehan:

 

Rendition by: Swati Natekar.

Rendition by: Arviand Ram

 

Chupke Chupke Raat Din – Ghulam Ali (Longing in secret, those days and nights)

Translation:

“I remember, those days and nights.”

That longing in secret, those days and nights, I remember,
the age of love, those memories in love, yet I remember.

That boldness of mine in your presence,
your biting the nails, I remember.

My playfully pulling the curtains off – a sudden,
your concealing the face in veil, I remember.

That secret place where you used to meet me often,
has been ages since, though the place – still I remember.

In scorching heat of noon, just for sake of my calling,
your coming on the loft – naked feet, I remember.

Finding you unaccompanied some times, then in caution due,
revealing state of heart to you that casually, I remember.

In nights of meeting, for even a hint of a goodbye,
your sobbing, so much as making me cry, I remember.

Among infinite fears, among those limitless desires,
time I fell in love for first time with you, I remember.

Revealing the pain of heart with insensitiveness,
while your playing with your bangles, I remember.

To convey the farewell, at time of being apart,
your hesitation, that dryness of lips, yet I remember.

– Original lyrics by Hasrat Mohani. Performed by Ghulam Ali.

Urdu version:

چپکے چپکے رات دن آنسو بہانا یاد ہے
ہم کو اب تک عاشقی کا وہ زمانہ یاد ہے

با ہزاراں اضطراب و صد ہزاراں اشتیاق
تجھ سے وہ پہلے پہل دل کا لگانا یاد ہے

بار بار اُٹھنا اسی جانب نگاہ ِ شوق کا
اور ترا غرفے سے وُہ آنکھیں لڑانا یاد ہے

تجھ سے کچھ ملتے ہی وہ بے باک ہو جانا مرا
اور ترا دانتوں میں وہ انگلی دبانا یاد ہے

کھینچ لینا وہ مرا پردے کا کونا دفعتاً
اور دوپٹے سے ترا وہ منہ چھپانا یاد ہے

جان کرسونا تجھے وہ قصد ِ پا بوسی مرا
اور ترا ٹھکرا کے سر، وہ مسکرانا یاد ہے

تجھ کو جب تنہا کبھی پانا تو ازراہِ لحاظ
حال ِ دل باتوں ہی باتوں میں جتانا یاد ہے

جب سوا میرے تمہارا کوئی دیوانہ نہ تھا
سچ کہو کچھ تم کو بھی وہ کارخانا یاد ہے

غیر کی نظروں سے بچ کر سب کی مرضی کے خلاف
وہ ترا چوری چھپے راتوں کو آنا یاد ہے

آ گیا گر وصل کی شب بھی کہیں ذکر ِ فراق
وہ ترا رو رو کے مجھ کو بھی رُلانا یاد ہے

دوپہر کی دھوپ میں میرے بُلانے کے لیے
وہ ترا کوٹھے پہ ننگے پاؤں آنا یاد ہے

آج تک نظروں میں ہے وہ صحبتِ راز و نیاز
اپنا جانا یاد ہے،تیرا بلانا یاد ہے

میٹھی میٹھی چھیڑ کر باتیں نرالی پیار کی
ذکر دشمن کا وہ باتوں میں اڑانا یاد ہے

دیکھنا مجھ کو جو برگشتہ تو سو سو ناز سے
جب منا لینا تو پھر خود روٹھ جانا یاد ہے

چوری چوری ہم سے تم آ کر ملے تھے جس جگہ
مدتیں گزریں،پر اب تک وہ ٹھکانہ یاد ہے

شوق میں مہندی کے وہ بے دست و پا ہونا ترا
اور مِرا وہ چھیڑنا، گُدگدانا یاد ہے

با وجودِ ادعائے اتّقا حسرت مجھے
آج تک عہدِ ہوس کا وہ فسانا یاد ہے

(مولانا حسرت موہانی)

Update 10/15/2013:

Here’s my favorite performance of Ghulam Ali saheb hosted on SoundCloud: