Friday, April 30, 2010

An Urban Life, A Song of Hope !

\"I learnt that prejudice is the worst prison"
So sings a sweet crooner from Favela, Rio de Janiero, Brazil,
On BBC!
A thought arises in my mind
A song
A poem

Of Hope and Despair
Methinks of
A Flower and a Star
A Blooming Act
A Falling Deed
In between I stand
In Karachi, In Favela, In Johannesburg
Of Slums and Shanties
Tales That I and you, Spun
An Entangled Spider's Web
Of Tinned Roofs
With holes and spaces
To let the rain in
Sometimes
Of Smokey Stoves, Street Dogs, Stench
And Home Cooking!

My Urban Existence
A mixture of jeans, teeshirts and broken shoes
Burnt Cigarettes, Drugs and Coins
Coins that I Collect
Fascinatingly as a Child
Essentially as a Student
And then these Green, Green Notes
A stab in your back, my back, their backs
Society returns, gives back Nothing
But then I have Loved, Hated, Hoped and Despaired
My Final Destination is always
The truth, through Justice
Through Knowledge
I have found out the best Truth,
The only Truth,
That
" Prejudice is the Worst Prison"

Brazilian Singer from Favela, Rio de Janiero.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Paani, Tera Mera Wujood! Water, Yours and Mine Existence.


Aur dekhna aahista aahista qadam rakhna
Yeh Paani hai!
Kaheen toot na jaye Iska hajam,
Tumhare Wajood ke bojh se
Aur bikhar jaye is ka badan
Hokar
Qatra, qatra,
Qatra, qatra,
Aise jaise
Para, para,
Raiza, raiza!
Kirchee, kirchee,
Sheesha, sheesha!

Haan, yeh paani
Chaahe Ravi, chahe Brahma,
Chahe Jehlum, chahe Sindhu,
Chahe Kabul, chahe Yellow!
Bahe hai aur seenchta hai mera jeevan
Bahe hai aur devta maan
Tujhe aur mujhe zindagi bakhshta
Boond, boond,
Qatra, qatra,
Seenchta, dhaalta,
Jeevan dor baandhtaa
Behta chalta hai!

Ghoont, ghoont bheegte
Tere , mere hont!
Piyaas bujhata hua,
Seenchta hua!
Tere mere dil ki kali
Khilata hua,
Yeh paani!

Is par bojh na daal
Apne wujood ka
Bhaari
Naqabile bardasht!

Translation:

Tread softly,knowingly, lovingly,
On its existence,
Tis Water!
Lest it disappears,
Its body evaporated
As of , in drops one by one!
Like mercurial existence,
Drop by drop,
Or like shards of glass
Smaller and smaller
Till
Nonexistent!

Yes, this water,
Whether Raavi, whether Brahma,
Whether Jehlum, whether Sindhu,
Whether Kabul, whether Yellow
Flows and nurtures
My Life!
Flows and like a god
Bestows life
To You and Me
Drop by drop!

Nurturing, forming,
Our existence!
Tying the knots of our lives
Together, forever!
Creating a bud that flowers joyously
This Water!

Do not burden it
Excessively
With your existence,
Lest it fails,
Unbearably!

Edgar Degas, After the Bath!