Literary Musings

Aik Safaid Lily, Aik Surkh Lily..A White Lily , A Red Lily.

2012-02-14T12:45:00.000-08:00

ہے میرے دوست میرے ہمدم

تیرے وہ ان کہے شکوے وہ گلے

میرا سکون برباد کر گئے

میری نیند اوڑھ گی

میں کھڑی رہ گی

میں کٹ گی میں مر گی

کہاں کھلوں کہاں چھپوں

میں کیا کروں میں کیا کروں

تو میری دل وہ جان میں ہے

یقین کر اس بات کا

میں تیرے ہر دم کے ساتھ ہوں

یقین نہ ہو تو مار دے

میں تن اپنا ڈھا لوں گی

مومل کی طرھ گور میں

اور میری قبر پر رکھنا دو پھول

ایک سفید لیلے

میرے پوتر ہونے کا ثبوت

اور ایک سرخ لیلے

میرے ابد ہونے کا ثبوت

Roman English:

Aye mere dost mere hamdam

Tere woh unkahe shikwey wa gile

Mera sukoon barbaad kar gaye

Meri neend urh gayi

Mein khari reh gayi

Mein lut gayi mein mar gayi

Kahan chupon kahan khulon

Mein kia karun mein kia karun

Tu mere dil wa jaan mein hai

Yaqeen kar is baat ka

Mein tere har dam saath hun

Yaqeen na ho to maar de

Mein tan apna dhalun gi

Moomal ki tarha gor mein

Aur meri qabar pe rakhna do phool

Aik safed lily

Mere pawitr hone ka suboot

Aur aik surkh lily

Mere abad hone ka suboot

Mere hamdam mere dost

Translation:

O my friend, my love

Thine unsaid moan

Thine unsaid protest

Mine peaceful sleep gone

I stand still and alone

Lost

I am finished

Where do I hide

Where do I start

What should I do

You are in my heart

You are in my soul

Believe me, my love

I am with you always

If you do not believe

Kill me

I will hide my existence

In a grave like Moomal did

And my love lay down two flowers on my grave

One white Lily to prove my chasteness

One Red Lily to prove my eternity!

Meherzaidi, the poet.

Ab mein Kiya Karun? What should I do?

2012-02-13T12:04:00.000-08:00

اے میرے پیارے دوست

اے میرے پورے دوست

اے میرے سچے دوست

اے میرے اپنے دوست

تم نے میرے ذھن اور سکون کو منتشر کر دیا

میری دنیا بدل گی

میری کاینات بدل گی

وہ تجزیہ وہ حججتیں

تمام ہوئیں الٹ گین

میرے راستے کی امڈتی دھول

دھل گی فنا ہوئی

داستان بدل گی

راستہ بدل گی

میری روش

میری خلش

بدل گیی بدل گیی

تو اب بتا میں کیا کروں

کہاں پھروں کہاں روکوں

میں جمبشوں کے بل چلوں

کہ آندھیوں کو روک دون

کہاں چلوں کہاں روکوں

میں کب کروں میں کیا کروں

یہ جبر کے جبل بڑے

صدی سے ہیں کھڑے ہوے

یہ راستوں کو روکتے

جکڑ کے مجھ کو ٹوکتے

کہاں اٹھوں کہاں چڑھوں

بتاؤ اب میں کیا کروں

میں سلاسل اپنے کھول دوں؟

میں چوڑیوں کو توڑ دوں؟

میں کیا کروں میں کیا کروں ؟

بتاؤ تو میں کیا کروں!

یہ قفس جو میرا گھر بھی تھا

بکھر رہا ہے ھل کے اب

سلاخیں اب ہیں ٹہنیاں

امڈ رہی ہے موج بھی

یہ طوفانے ذھن وہ دل

ہے پسے دیوار ابھی

بتاؤ اب میں کیا کروں

دیواری دل کو کھول دوں؟

ڈھا کے جبر بول دوں؟

بتاؤ اب میں کیا کروں؟

میں کیا کروں میں کیا کروں

یہ طوفان اٹھ رہا ہے کیوں

یہ سچ رواں دواں ہے کیوں

میں راستے کو کھول دوں

بتاؤ اب میں کیا کروں
بتاؤ سچ میں کیا کروں

Translation:

O, my dear friend

O, my sweet friend

O, my complete friend

O, my real friend

How have you scattered my peace

Of mind and soul

My world has changed

My universe has changed

Those analysis, those arguments

All in vain

All dispersed

The story has changed

The path has changed

The dust arising on my path

Has been washed away, settled

My way has changed

My restlessness has changed

Tell me what should I do?

Where do I wander? Where do I stop?

Should I move with moments

Or should I stop Storms

When do I walk , when do I stop

When and what should I do.

These mountains of tyranny are tall

Standing since centuries

These block the way forward

These enslave me and stop

Where do I climb

Where do I stand?

Tell me whta should I do?

Do I unshackle my chains?

Should I break my bangles?

What should I do?

Tell me what should I do?

This home that was my prison

Its shaken and withering

The steel rods have become hay

The wave also swells surely

This storm in my mind and heart

Is behind the wall, hidden

Tell me what should I do

Tell me!

Should I break down the wall around my heart?

Should I crush the tyranny?

Should I raise my voice?

Tell me what should I do?

What should I do?

This storm rises, why?

This truth marches on

Should I pave the way?

Tell me what should I do?

Raat ka pichla pehar....The hour before Dawn.

2012-02-08T14:55:00.000-08:00

شاید تم سو گئے

رات کا پچھلا پھر باقی ہے ابھی

میری دبی ھوئی چیخ نہ سنی تم نے

جو ایک ایسے پیار کے لمحے میں نکلی تھی میرے حلقوم سے

صدیوں کی دبی ھوئی چیخ جو انسان کے حلقوم میں دبتی ہے

دبی رہتی ہے

جو دہقان کے حلقوم میں دبی رہتی ہے

جب اس کا رزق اسی کی اپنی محنت کا پھل اس پر بند کیا جاتا ہے

بندے قفل

بردی بردی تختیوں میں

بکنے کے لئے

اور وہ اور اس کے بھوکے بچے صرف دیکھنے کے لئے پیچھے رہ جاتے ہیں

پیچھہے

اس فرسودہ سامراجی نظام کی نہ انصاف تنہا زمین میں پیچھے

میری دبی ھوئی چیخ جب وہ میری زبان چوستا تھا

ایک عذاب ایک عذاب جو ایک بہت ہی کالی گہری لہر کی طرھ ابھرا اور مجھ کو ڈبو کر لے گیا

ایک ایسی چیخ جو کسی مزدور کے حلقوم سے نکلتی ہے جب وہ درد کے عذاب میں تنہا ہے

جب وہ اپنے حق کے لئے لڑتا بھی نہیں

صرف سسکتا ہے

کیوں کے کراچی اور لاہور کی فکتوریوں میں اس کو صرف اد ہوک رکھا گیا ہے

ڈیلی ویجس پر

تاکے اس کو کوئی فائدہ کبھی نا ملے

اور یہ آرٹی مڈل میں

اس کا خون چوس چوس کر خود اپنی موتی توندوں اور اپنی لمبی داڑھیوں اور اپنے اونچے پانچوں کو سمبھالتے رہیں

اور یہ فرسودہ نظام

جس پر یہ اپنے خدا کی چکّی بھی چلاتے ہیں

میں اس کے ٹھنڈے بوسوں کے وژن کے عذاب میں دبتی رہی

رات کے پچھلے پھر

تم شاید سو گئے تھے

کب سبحہ ہوگی

میں یہ سوچتی رہتی ہوں

کب وہ سرخ علم ابھرے گا

جب ہمارے حلقوم کی دبی چیخیں زور و شور سے نکل کر فنا ہو چکی ہونگی

وہ سرخ سبحہ

جو ایک آزاد فخریہ عادل وجود کا دعواکرے گی

جو مساوات کا دعوا کرے گی

فخریہ دعویٰ

با بانگے دھل دعویٰ

ایسے آزادی جہاں سب دنیا کے باسی آزاد ہونگے

ہر قسم کی سامراجی استعماری نہ انصاف استحصال سے پاک

اور میں نے اس کے بوسے کا جواب نہ دیا اور وہ سمجھا بھی نہیں

میں اس کے لئے ایک زندہ لاش بن چکی ہوں

منٹو کی زندہ لاش

اور شاید وہ سمجھے گا بھی نہیں

کیوں کے اس فرسودہ نظام کی ذہنیت اور اس نہ انصاف نظام کے اندر رہنے والے شاید یہ سمجھ بھی نہیں سکتے کے سچھی آزادی کیا ہوتی ہے

مساوات کیا ہوتی ہے

رات کے پچھلے پھر یہ بات مجھ پر یان ہی کے میں تم سے بہت زیادہ محبّت کرتی ہوں

سچی محبّت

پوری محبّت

بھرپور محبّت

میں تمہارے ہر جذبے میں تمہارے ساتھ ہوں

تمہارا سچا جذبہ\میرے دوست

وہ دِن دور نہیں جب سبحہ کا سورج سرخ ہوگا

اور روشن کرے گا اس دبتی دنیا کو

میں تمہارے ساتھ ہونگی

تمہارے اور سب مزدوروں کے ساتھ

تمہارے اور سب ہاریوں کے ساتھ ساتھ

ان سب عورتوں کے ساتھ جو اپنی مزدوری کا حق بھی پوری طرھ نہیں مانگ سکتیں

اور اپنے جسم کے بوجھ تلے خاموشی سے دبتی چلی جاتی ہیں کیوں کہ

یہ سامراجی استحصالی نظام انھ اپنے سخت اور جبر شکنجے میں جکڑے ہوے ہے

کبھی مذہب کا لبادہ پہناتا ہے کبھی جھوٹی مساوات کا

سچا رخ نہیں دکھاتا

رات کا پچھلا پھر بیت رہا ہے
اور سبحہ ہونے کو ہے
ایک نی سبحہ
مساوات کی سبحہ
سرخ روشن سبحہ
میری آزادی کی سبحہ
ہم سب کی آزادی کی سبحہ
مساوات والی سبحہ

میہرزیدی، Meherzaidi,the poet.

Translation
Seems you have slept,my loved one

The night before Dawn is long and dark

Have you not heard my suppressed scream

That which came out at such a moment of unwanted, un bequeathed love

The suppressed scream that is buried in man's throat since ages

It remains suppressed

That which remains suppressed in the tiller's throat

When his own produce that which his intense effort has made

Is taken away from him to be sold in the market

locked in big boxes

He and his hungry children are left back to watch, despair

Left behind in this wasted system , left behind in this Earth

My suppressed scream when he was sucking my tongue

This torture, Oh this torture

Rose like a deep wave and drowned me

Ah, this scream that comes out of a worker when he is alone in his pain

When he does not even fight for his rights

When he only cries

Because e is only adhoc in the factories of Karachi and Lahore

On daily wages

So that he does not gain

And these middle men

Who suck his blood and with their big bellies, long beards and short shalwars

And this obsolete system

On which they run their idolatory grinding machine

And I was buried in the torture of his cold kisses

In the last hours before Dawn

It seems you had slept

When will there be a new Dawn

I think incessantly

When will the Red Flag rise

When our suppressed screams will have risen out of our throats and destroyed

That Red morning

That declares a free, proud, just existence

That declares equality

Proud declaration

Loud declaration

A freedom where all the citizens of the world are free of

every kind of imperialism, capitalistic exploitation

Free of unjust social systems

And I did not return his kiss and he did not understand

I am a dead being for him

Manto's "Alive Corpse"

But he will not understand

Because those who live in this wasted system and its unjust ways do not understand

Will never understand

That what is the Morn of liberation

That what is Equality

And at this time f night before Dawn this truth is clear to me that I love you very much

True love

Complete love

Forceful love

I am with you in all your Passions

Your true Passion my friend!

That day is not far away when the morning sun will be Red

And it will light this suppressed world

I will be with you

I will be with you and all the workers

I will be with you and all the tillers

I will be with the women who do not even claim their rights

And they bend under the weight of their bodies

Because the imperialistic, fascist system has them caught strongly in this fist
Sometimes dressed as religious bigotry, sometimes as false equality
The last hours of the Night falls
And the Dawn is about to break
A new morning
A Red bright morning
An egalitarian morning
A morning of our Freedom!

Shayad tum so gaye
raat ka pichla peher baaqi hai abhi
meree dabi huee cheekh na sunee tum ne
jo aik aise piyaar ke lamhe mein niklee thi merey halqoom se
sadiyon ki dabi huee cheekh jo insaan ke halqoom mein dabi hai
Dabi rehteee hai
Jo dehqaan ke nhalqoom mein dabi rehtee hai
Jab us ka rizq, us ki apni mehnat ka phal us par band kiya jaata hai
bande qufal
bardhi bardhi takhtiyo mein
bikne ke liye
aur woh aur us ke bhooke bacchey sirf dekhne ke liye peeche reh jaate hain
peeche
Is farsooda samaraji nizaam ki na insaaf tanha zameen mein peeche
Meri dabee huee cheekh jab woh meri zabaan choosta tha
Aik azaab, aik azaab jo aik buhat kaali gehri leher ki tarha ubhraa aur mujh ko dibo kar le gaya
Aik aisee cheekh jo kisee mazdoor ke halqoom se nikalti hai jab woh dard ke azaab mein tanha hai
Jab woh apne haq ke liye larta bhi nahin
Sirf sisakta hai
Kiyub ke Karachi aur Lahore ki factoriun mein us ko sirf adhoc rakha gaya hai
daily wages par
taake us ko koi fayida kabhi na mile
Aur yeh middle men aarti
Us ka khoon choose choose kar khud apni moti tondon
aur apni lambi lambi darhiyon aur apne unche paainchon ko sambhalte rehain
Aur yeh farsooda nizaam
jis par yeh apne khuda ki chakki bhi chalaate hain
mein us ke thande boson ke wazan ke azaab min dabti rahi
raat ke pichle peher
tum shayad so gaye

kab subha hogi
mein yeh sochti rehti hun
kab woh surkh alam ubhre ga
jab hamare halqoom ki dabi cheekhain zor wa shor se nikal kar fana ho chuki hongi
woh surkh subha
jo aik azaad fakhriya aadil wajood ka daawa kare gi
jo masawaat ka daawa kare gi
fakhriya daawa
ba bange dehel daawa
apni aazadi jahan sab duniya ke baasi azaad honge
har qisam ki samaraji isteimaari na insaf istehsaal se paak
aur mein e us ke bose ka jawab na diya aur woh smajha bhi nahin
mein us ke liye aik zinda laash ban cuki hun
Manto ki zinda laash
aur woh shayad samjhen gaa bhi nahin
kiyun ke is farsooda nizam ki zehniyat aur us na insaaf nizaam ke ander rehne waale yeh samjhein bhi nahin
keh subhe azaadi kiya hotee hai
masawaat kiya hoti hai

Raat ke pichle peher yeh baat mujh par ayan hai keh mein tum se buhat ziyaada muhabbat karti hun
Sachi muhabbat
Puri muhabbat
bharpur muhabbat
Mein tumhare har jazbe mein tumhare saath hun
Tumhara sacha jazba
mere dost
woh din dur nahinjab subha ka suraj surkh hoga
aur roshan kare ga is dabti dunyaan ko
Mein tumhare saath hongi
tumhare aur sab mazdooron ke saath
tumhare aur sab haariyon ke saath
Un sab auraton ke saath jo apni mazdoori ka haq bhi puri tarha nahi maang saktein
Aur apne jism ke bojh tale khamoshi se dabti chali jaati hain kiyun ke yeh samaraji istehsaali nizaam apne apne sakht aur jabir shikanje mein pakre huey hai
kabhi mazhab ka labada oehnaata hai
kabhi jhooti masawat ka
saja rukh dikhaata hai

raat ka pichla peher beet raha hai
aur subha hone ko hai
aik nai subha masawaat ki subha
surkh roshan subha
meri azaadi ki subha
hum sab ki azaadi ki subha
masawaat waali subha

Aik Aisa Lamha....This Moment With You.

2012-01-31T21:25:00.000-08:00

آه یہ لمحے جو گزرتے ہیں تیرے ساتھ

ابھی ایسے

تو سوچتا تھا کے میں ایسی ہوں

vulnerable
impressionable

بہت جلدی اٹچ ہونے والی

میں نے پہلی دفع تیری آنکھوں کی طرف دیکھا

میں ٹھٹکی

کیا میں اسے ٹرسٹ کر سکتی ہوں

یہی سوال تھا میرے ذھن میں

اور سرخ تھیں وہ آنکھیں
شدّت جذبات سے شاید

ایک اندیشہ تھا ان میں

کیا یہ مجھے ٹرسٹ کرے گی

میں کہتے لگی تجھ سے زندگی کی کہانی

اور تو سنتا گیا

وہ لمحے گزر گئے

اور پھر اس نے اس لڑکے سے کہا

یہی لمحے جو گزر رہے ہیں وہ سچ ہیں

یہی حسین ہیں

آھستہ آھستہ گزرتے لمحے

رنگیں خوشبودار لمحے

ان دونوں کے لمس سے بوجھل لمحے

تیرا وہ ؤسسا

جیسے جام آتا ہے مے کے پاس

اور اس کا اثر روح میں اتر جائے

حسین رنگین خمار آلود

ترے دھن کی مٹھاس ہے میرے ذھن میں یوں برپا

ایک جوشیلے نغمے کی طرھ

میں آھستہ آھستہ بھروسہ کر رہی ہوں

لکین کبھی کبھی خیال آتا ہے

کیوں

کیوں کرتا ہے تو مجھ سے پیار

ایک بوسیدہ جسم اور موت کا سنناتا

جو الجھن ہے میرے ذھن میں

جو درد ہے میرے دل میں

یہ کوئی اس ذات کے لئے تھوڑا ہی ہے

یہ تو ازلی کرب ہے

انسان پے جبر کا کرب

جواں کندھوں پر غربت کے بوجھ کا کرب

بلکتےبچے کے سوکھی چھاتیوں کو چوسنے کا کرب

کمزوری سے حملوں کے گرنے کا کرب

مزدور کا فکترے کے اککیڈنٹ میں اپاہج ہونے کا کرب

نوکری سے نکالے جانے کا کرب

پھر اپنی بوڑھی ماں کی دوا نہ لانے کا کرب

اپنے باپ کے لاشے پی کفن قرضے پر لینے کا کرب

اپنی عزتی نفس کو چیتھڑے ہوتے دیکھنے کا کرب

تو سمجھا کے مرے آنکھ میں یہ آنسو اس لئے ہیں کہ میں اپنی ذات سے بہت پیار کرتی ہوں اور وہ نہیں؟

نہیں وہ دکھ تو کب کا مدھم پر چکا

اور بھی غم ہیں زمانے میں محبّت کے سوا کسی فیض نے کیا خوب کہا تھا

جب تو نے میرے گال کو پیار سے چھوا تھا تو میں ایک لمحے کے لیے ٹھٹکی تھی

ایسے لگا کہ میں نے جنّت دیکھ لی

تیری مری جنّت جس میں شاید ہم دونوں اب سدا رہیں اپنی باقی ماندہ زندگی میں

ہاں ہم دونوں وہ لوگ ہیں جو اپنے ذہن اور بیلییفس کے پیچھے چلتے ہیں

تو کہتا ہے کے تم عدیلسٹ نہیں ہو مری طرھ مٹریلسٹک ہو

میں یہ نہیں سمجھتی

میں توشاید سارترے کی ایران ان دی سول کی ہیروئن ہوں

اسے طرھ اٹکی ہوئی

اپنی عیےاشیوں میں

سہیل زندگی میں بسنے والی
ورنہ میں اگر ایکسیسٹنشیلسٹ نہ ہوتی تو

میں مزاروں پر رہتی
صوفی کی ابا پہنتی اور تیری مالا جپتی
پر میں ایکسیسٹنشیلسٹ ہوں
آرام پسند
اسے لئے اس خوبصورت پنجرے میں بند ہوں
سجے ہوے مقتل میں رہتی ہوں
مگر میں زندہ ہوں
اور یہ احساس مجھے شاید اس سبب ہوا کہ میں درد محسوس کرتی ہوں
جب کوئی بھوکا ننگا ننھا سا بچھ مری طرف دیکھ کر مسکراتا ہے
اور اپنے پھٹےہےتیار کے ساتھ کھیلتے اپنی سدا بہتے ناک پونچھتے ہوے بھاگتا ہے

اور جب کوئی چھوٹے سی بچھی تعلیم سے محرم رہ جے اس لئے کے اس کو اپنے ننھے ننھے ہاتھوں سے کام کرنا ہے
کیسے کے گندے برتن دھونے ہیں
اپنی کمزور ماں کا ہاتھ بتانا ہے
اور اپنے چھوٹے چھوٹے بہن بھایوں کو پالنا ہے کیوں کے اس کے باپ نے
دوسری شادی کر لی ہے اور وہ نشہ بھی کرتا ہے
اور یہ لمحہ
جب تم مجھ سے پیار کر رہے ہو
یہ بلکل اس جام کی طرہ ہے
جس میں ڈوب کر میں صرف اپنا اور تمہارا عکس دیکھتی ہوں
اور خوش ہوتی ہوں مدہوشی میں مست ہوتی ہوں

اور کچھ دیر کہ لئے بھول جاتی ہوں کہ

بہت سے کانٹے جو دل میں چبھے ہیں وہ کسک دے رہے ہیں اور میں ان کے کرب میں سدا سے مبتلا ہوں

In Roman English

Ah yeh lamhe jo guzar rahe hain tere saath

Abhi aise

Tu sochta tha ke mein aisee hun

Vulnerable

Impressionable

Buhat jaldi attach hone waali

Mein ne pehli dafa teri aankhon ki taraf dekha

Mein thatki

Kiya mein isey trust kar sakti hun

Yahi sawal tha mere zehan mein

Aur surkh thi woh aankhein
Shidate jazbaat se shayad

Aik sada thi un mein

Kiya yeh mujhe trust kare gi?

Mein kehene lagi tujh se zindagi ki kahani

Aur tu sunta gaya

Woh lamhe guzar gaye

Aur phir us ne us larkey se kaha

Yeh lamhe jo guzar rahe hain woh sach hain

Yahi haseen hain

Aahista aahista guzarte lamhe

Rangeen khushboodar lamhe

Aur dono ke lams se bojhal lamhe

Tera woh aana jaise jam aata hai mei ke paas

Aur us ki rooh mein utar jaye

Haseen rangeen khumaar aalood

Tere dehan ki mithaas hai mere zehan main yun barpa

Aik josheele naghme ki tarha

Mein aahista aahista bharosa kar rahi hun

Laikin kabhi kabhi khayal aata hai

Kiyun

Kiyun karta hai tu mujh se pioyaar

Aik boseeda jism aur maut ka sannata

Jo uljhan hai mere zehan mein

Jo dard hai mere dil mein

Yeh koi is zaat ke liye thora hi hai
Yeh to azali karb hai
Insaan pe jabar ka karb
Jawan kandhon par ghurbat ke bojh ka karb
Bilakte bacchey ke sookhi chhatiyon ko choosne ka karb
Kamzori se hamalon ke girne ka karb
Mazdoor ka factory ke accident mein apahij hone ka karb
Naukri se nikaale jaane ka karb
Phir apni boorhi maan ki dawa na laane ka karb
Apne baap ke laashe pe kafan qarz per lene ka karb
Apni izzat-e nafs ko cheetrey hotey dekhne ka karb

Tu samjha ke meri aankh mein yeh aansoo is liye hain keh mein apni zaat se buhat piyaar kartee hun aur woh nahin?
Nahin woh dukh to kabhi ka madham ho chuka
Aur bhi gham hain zamane mein muhabbat ke siwa kisee Faiz ne khub kaha tha
Jab tu ne mere gaal ko piyaar se chuwa tha to mein aik baar thatkee thee
Aise laga mein ne jannat dekh li hai
Teri meri jannat jis mein shayad hum donon sada rahein apni baaqi maaanda zindagi mein
Haan hum donon woh log hain jo apne zehan aur apni beliefs ke peechey chaltey hain
Tu kehta hai ke tum idealist nahin ho meri tarha materialistic ho
Mein yeh nahin samajhtee
Mein to shayad Sartre ki Iron In The Soul ki heroine hun
Isiee tarha atki huiee
Apni ayyashiyon mein
Sehel zindagi mein basne waali
Warna mein Existentialist na hotee to

Mein mazaron pe rehti
Sufi ki aba a pehenti aur teri maala japti
Per mein Existentialist hun
Aram pasand
Isee liye is khubsoorat pinjerey mein band hun
Saje huey maqtal mein rehti hun
Magar mein zinda hun
Aur yeh ehsaas mujhe shayad is sabab hua ho keh mein dard mehsus karti hun
Jab koi bhooka nanga nanha sa baccha meri taraf dekh kar muskurata hai
Aur apne phatey huey tyre ke saath kheltey huey apni sadaa behtee huiee naak ponchtey huey bhaagtaa hai

Aur jab koi chhotee si bacchee taaleem se mehrum reh jaatee hai is liye keh us ko apney nanhey nanhey haathon se kaam karna hai
Kisee ke gandey bartan dhoney hain
Apni kamzor maan ka haath batana hai
Aur apne chotey chotey behn bhaayion ko paalna hai
Kiyun ke us ke baap ne doosri shaadi kar li hai
Aur woh nasha bhi karta hai

Aur yeh lamha
Jab tum mujhe piyaar kar rahe ho
Yeh bilkul us jaam ki tarha hai jis mein doob kar mein sirf apna aur tumhara aks dekhti hun
Aur khush hotee hun, madhoshi mein mast hotee hun
Aur kuch dair keh kiye bhool jaatee hun keh

Buhat se kaantey jo dil mein chubey hain woh kasak dey rahe hain aur mein un ke karb mein sada se mubtila hunhun.

Buhat se kaantey jo dil mein chubey hain woh kasak dey rahe hain aur mein un ke karb mein sada se mubtila hun.

Meherzaidi , the poet.

Translation:

Ah these moments spent with you

Now, here

You thought I am like this

Vulnerable

Impressionable

Very easily attached

Very easily fooled

When I looked at your eyes, the first time

I was startled

Can I trust him

This was my question

Those eyes were red

There was an intensity in them

I told you my life story

And you listened

Those moments passed

And then she said to him

These passing moments are the truth

These are beauteous moments

These slowly passing moments

These colorful ,fragrant moments

Moments pregnant with their touch

Your kiss is like a goblet coming to its wine

It reaches my soul

Beauteous, colourful, heady

Your sweetness is spread on my mind

Like a passionate song

I am slowly trusting you

But I think sometimes

Why?

Why do you love me

This old body and death’s silence

This confusion in my mind

This pain in my heart

This is not for my existence

Tis eternal agony!

Agony of cruelty on Man

Agony of the burden of poverty on young shoulders

Agony of a suckling sucking empty breasts

Agony of recurrent miscarriages of the weak

Agony of a disabled worker due to industrial accident

Agony of being thrown out of work

Agony of inability to get sick mother’s medicines

Agony of taking loan to shroud father’s dead body

Agony of tattering of self respect

You thought my eyes tear because I love myself too much and he does not?

No that pain has numbed long ago

There are other agonies more profound than love’s pain ,so says Faiz

When you touched my cheek with love I startled

I felt as if I have seen heaven

Yours and mine heaven in which we both will stay forever for the remaining lives

Yes we both are such people that walk behind our beliefs and convictions

You say that I am not idealist but materialistic like you

I do not think so

I am perhaps like the heroine of Sartre’s Iron in the Soul

Suspended in my pleasures

Easy life

If I were not an existentialist…

I would live on Mazaars

Wearing Sufi’s abaya and singing your rosary

But I am existentialist

Leisure loving

That is why I am entrapped in this beautiful cage

Abide in this adorned death cell

But I am alive

This I realized because I feel pain

When a naked, hungry child smiles at me

And plays running with his torn tyre

Cleaning his eternally running nose

When a little girl cannot study because she has to work with her little hands

Wash someone else’ dirty dishes

Help her weak and frail mother

When she has to look after her little brothers and sisters

Because her father has married another woman

And he is an addict too

And this moment

When you are loving me, wooing me

Tis like a goblet

In which I see reflections, yours and mine

I forget for a while

Those many thorns that prick my heart and cause that deep pain since eternity.

Karachi Kahani...East Wharf, West Wharf, Dreams.

2012-01-25T21:29:00.000-08:00

A Short Story
By Meherzaidi.

Life was too rich in this stinky, oily hot sector 22 of his mad, wild , beloved city. He stood on the pier, small, creeky, yellowish brown in the light of the setting sun. Munna came here every evening after work.He came to enjoy the sea and to meet his friend Dilawar. He counted the coins in his small hands with dirt in its creases and dirt under the finger nails. Small hands hardened and blackened. He smiled. His pink lips parted and his white teeth flashed. His smile lighted up his face. He had a wonderful smile. His boss at the mechanic shop also loved his smile. He said that all his tiredness disappeared to see him smile.So the coins were enough for today. They will buy him his food and the medicines for his ailing mother and his two siblings. One brother who was born with some injury to his head during childbirth , they said. One sister who had suffered from meningitis as the neighborhood doctor had said when she was one year old.
The seagulls were making noises near the shore. Some people had thrown some fish and food there.The colorful kites filled one part of the sky as some children played outside the small shanty huts by the peir.He took a deep sigh as if missing the joys of kite flying and playing. He had lost his childhood. responsibilities of earning a livelihood had made him a man. He felt old already.like his father. His father, a mechanic in a workshop, now frail and ailing too.
His friend Dilawar came whizzing his bike ."Come have a ride", he said. Dilawar was eighteen, sturdy and friendly. He was also an apprentice mechanic since the age of nine. He would work the whole day and happily share tea and biscuits with Munna."Ah" ,said Munna as he sat behind Dilawar on his shiny red bike.
"Zurr, Zurr" ,Dilawar revved the bike and off they went. Whizzing past the stalls on which fish was sold. Whizzed past the women cleaning some small fishes in the baskets. Whizzed past the gatekeeper and out of the gate of the Fisheries East Wharf. Quickly passing the roads , bumpy and uneven from the wear and tear of the heavy trucks and lorries passing over them without maintainence and repair. They entered the curvy,new overhead bridge. Inching slowly past the long trailers turning and entering another lane, they turned towards the West Wharf Peir Road.
Munna chuckled in sheer delight. He knew where Dilawar was taking him. He closed his eyes and felt the cool, oily , sticky breeze on his face. He felt it on his heavy lids with their long black lashes.He took a deep breath as if devouring the air, this moment, now.His tongue flickered out like a slimy snake as he licked his lips. His thoughts dwelled on the West Wharf pier. Beautifully redone with lots of food stalls, shiny, posh restaurants, a walking path along the sea and lights.Oh how he would love to go inside. He had never been inside. He just parked outside everytime with Dilawar, watching all the beautiful people in their expensive clothes and big , shiny cars go inside.
Some day I will be eating there. Some day I will bring my wife there. When I am old and rich. He thought every time.Dilawar stopped the bike where the guards would not scold them and beckoned Munna to the side. They both sat down hunching. All the people were getting down from their cars and going inside. There were whiffs of strange exotic perfumes in the air.There were chuckles and tinkering laughter in the air.This was heaven. He savored the pleasure of the moment.This was his world , this evening, today.
Munna dreamed he was all grown up in a black suit. A black suit just like Shahrukh Khan was wearing in Don 2 poster that smiled down on him near his uncle's workshop on M A Jinnah Road. His hair was slick like the hero too but he had no gun in his hand. Munna hated guns. Guns had killed so many in his neighborhood. He hated the wails and cries of the women, men and children when the slains' bodies were brought home for the funeral preparations. He hated dead bodies. He hated the white shrouds. He hated death. He wanted his father to live , even with his weak lungs and incessant cough and bouts of white phlegm. He wanted his mother to answer him smiling even if weak and tremulous, lying on her oft repaired charpoy, when he came back from a long and hard day's work. He wanted his brother with weak, distorted hands and inability to stand straight to live. He wanted his sister to live. Even if she could not see him clearly with both eyes, even if she could not sit straight and listen to him. He wanted all his family to live , happily with him. All his family with their weak and disabled hands, feet, eyes and bodies. All his family with their coughs, sneezes, tears and sorrows. He was happy. He wanted them to live and he hated guns and death and shrouds.
His dream expanded. He entered the gate of the "Grand Cafe" where all the beautiful men and women were going. It was a dream. Lush surroundings. Lights. Strange dancing coloured lights and beautiful people around him.Munna was happy.This was his world. Lighted, fragrant and beautiful.
Then he heard a sound. A familiar tinkering sound of a woman's voice. "Dilawar' ! He opened his eyes. He came out of the dream in an instance. She was beautiful. Tall, dressed like Priyanka Chopra, smelling , oh, so good. She stood laughing in front of them, a tall woman in shimmering dress and heels.It was like he had come into a real dream again. The lady came towards them, her shiny car parked behind her.
"Dilawar, how are you ?" she smiled and laughed at the same time. "It has been so long I saw you last" "So many years. my, my, you have become a young man" "How is your workshop" "Oh, I can see your new bike"
Overwhelmed by her barrage of statements and questions. Overwhelmed by her presence, and surprised , Dilawar's mouth had fallen open. She was the "madam" who used to get her Volkswagon tyre fixed when Dilawar was a kid. She was the "Madam" who in the first week of the month got Dilawar a "Mr Burger" burger from her doctor's salary. Dilawar moved towards her and smiled. "What are you doing here and who is this young man ? your son? Couldn't be!" She laughed her tinkering laugh ,like sweet bells coming out of a fairy tale. She was a fairy. In his dream. But Munna's eyes were open.
"Remember the burgers, Dilawar?" "Yes, but..." stammered Dilawar. Munna wanted to go in with the lady to the Grand Port.He wanted to wear that black suit of his dreams. He wanted to have his hair slicked, shiny in place and he wanted to smell good.He wanted to be her prince. Munna smiled.
"Let us go inside" , came a harsh male voice from besides the lady."They are waiting for us and we will be late". A man in a suit nudged the lady. "Yes, yes " said the lady. She wasn't smiling any more. The stars in her big , brown eyes had vanished. The beautiful smile that had made her face shine and look child like, soft and radiant vanished. Her sure-footed step faltered. Then she regained composure and took out a card from her bag. She thrust the card in Dilawar's hands. "Promise you will telephone me tomorrow" "Promise , you will come to see me tomorrow" "Promise, you will have dinner with me tomorrow, Dilawar" "Just like old days?"
Her eyes were smiling. Her face was shining , child like. Bring your friend with you too. Do bring him, she bent towards Munna. Munna's head swooned as her scent wiffed in his nose. He felt heady, in a trance.
"Oh, but we can come her tomorrow for dinner, sure, we can do that". She said, smiling. "You telephone me and we will fix time , Dilawar". Dilawar, nodded, keeping the card in his pocket safely. And then she was gone.
Munna and Dilawar sat on the bike and came back. They did not speak to each other till Munna's home . Their journey back was like a dream. They were snug and quiet. Each was thinking about today. Each was thinking about tomorrow. Munna was already thinking about the clothes he was going to wear ,tomorrow and his hair.

Meher's Miraji :Samandar Ka Bulawa.

2012-01-20T13:24:00.000-08:00

Meherzaidi(Translator) with Anjum Zia(Poet)

یہ سرگوشیاں کہ رہی ہیں اب آؤ کہ برسوں سے تم کو بلاتے بلاتے میرے دل پی گہری تھکن چھاہ رہی ہے

کبھی ایک پل کو ، کبھی ایک عرصے صدائیں سنی ہیں

مگر یہ انوکھی ندا آرہی ہے

بلاتے بلاتے تو کوئی نہ اب تک تھکا ہے نہ آیندہ شاید تھکے گا

"میرے پیارے بچے" "مجھے تم سے کتنی محبّت ہے " "دیکھو اگر یوں کیا تو " "برا مجھ سے بڑ ہ کر نہ کوئی بھی ہوگا "

"خدایا، خدایا! "

کبھی ایک سسکی، کبھی ایک تبسّم ، کبھی صرف تیوری

مگر یہ صدائیں تو آتی رہی ہیں

انہی سے حیات دو روزہ ابد سے ملی ہے

مگر یہ انوکھی ندا جس پے گہرئی تھکن چھا رہی ہے

یہ ہر ایک صدا کو مٹانے کی دھمکی دیے جا رہی ہے

اب آنکھوں میں جمبئش ، نہ چہرے پے کوئی تبسّم نہ تیوری

فقط کان سنتے چلے جا رہے ہیں

یہ ایک گلستان ہے ،

ہوا لیلھاتی ہے ، کلیاں چٹکتی ہیں

غنچے مہکتے ہیں اور پھول کھلتے ہیں، کھل کھل کے مرجھاکے گرتے ہیں

ایک فرش مخمل بناتے ہیں

جس پر میری آرزوں کی پریاں عجب ان سے یوں رواں ہیں

کہ جیسے گلستان ہی ایک آئنہ ہے
اسی اینے سے ہر شکل نکھری ، سنور کر مٹی

اور مٹ ہی گیئ پھر نہ ابھری

یہ پربت ہے - خاموش ساکن

کبھی کوئی چشمہ ابلتے ہوئے پوچھتا ہے کہ اس کی

چٹانوں کہ اس پار کیا ہے

مگر مجھ کو پربت کا دامن ہی کافی ہے

دامن میں وادی ہے ، وادی میں نددی ہے ،

نددی میں بہتی ہی ناؤ ہی آئینہ ہے

اسی آئنے میں ہر ایک شکل نکھری

مگر ایک پل میں جو مٹنے لگی ہے تو پھر نہ ابھری

یہ صحرا ہے ،پھیلا ہوا خشک، بے برگ صحرا

بگولے یہاں تند بھوتوں کا عکسے مجسّم بنے ہیں

مگر میں تو دور - ایک پیڑوں کے جھرمٹ پے اپنی نگاہیں جمایے ہوئے ہوں

نہ اب کوئی صحرا ، نہ پربت، نہ کوئی گلستان

اب نہ آنکھوں میں جمبش، نہ چہرے پے کوئی تبسّم، نہ تیوری

فقط ایک انوکھی صدا کہ رہی ہے

کہ تم کو بلاتے بلاتے میرے دل پہ گہری تھکن چھا رہی ہے

بلاتے بلاتے تو کوئی نہ اب تک تھکا ہے نہ شاید تھکے گا

تو پھر یہ ندا آئنہ ہے ، فقط میں تھکا ہوں

نہ صحرا نہ پربت ، نہ کوئی گلستان ، فقط اب سمندر بلاتا ہے مجھ کو

کے ہر شہ سمندر سے آئ ، سمندر میں جا کر ملے گی

In Roman Script:

Yeh sargosheyan keh rahee hain ab aao keh barson se tum ko bulaate bulaate mere dil pe gehree thakan chharahee hai

Kabhi aik pal ko kabhi aik arsey sadaayein sunee hain

Magar yeh anokhi nida aa rahee hai

Bulaatey bulaatey to koi na ab tak thaka hai na ayenda shayad thake gaa

"Mere piyaare bach che"

"Mujhe tum se kitnee muhabbat hai"

"Dekho agar yun kia to"

"Bura mujh se bardh kar na koi bhi hoga"

"Khudaya, khudaya!"

Kabhi aik siskee, kabhi ek tabassum, kabhi sirf tiyuree

Magar yeh sadaayein to aatee rahee hain

Inhee sai hayate do roza abad se milee hai

Magar yeh anokhi nida jis pe gehree thakan chaa rahee hai

Yeh har ek sada ko mitaane ki dhamki diye jaa rahee hai

Ab aankhon mein jumbish na chehre pe koi tabassum na tiyuri

Faqat kaan sunte chale jaa rahe hain

Yeh aik gulistaan hai Hawa lehlihaatee hai, kaliyaan chitaktee hain

Ghunche mehekte hain aur phool khilte hain, khil khil ke murjha ke girte hain

Ek farsh makhmal banate hain jis par

Meree aarzoo on ki pariyaan ajab aan se yun rawaan hain

Keh jaise gulistaan hi ek aaeena hai

Isee aaeene se har ek shakal nikhree, sanwar kar mitee

Aur mit hee gayee phir na ubhree

yeh parbat hai khaamosh saakin

Kabhi koi chashma ubalte huey poochta hai keh us ki chataanon ke us paar kiyaa hai?

Magar mujh ko parbat ka daaman hi kaafi hai

Daaman mein waadi hai

Waadi mein naddi hai

Naddi mein behtee huwee naao hee aaeena hai

Usee aaeene mein har aik shakal nikhree

Magar aik pal mein jo mitne lagi hai to phir na ubhree

Yeh sehra hai phaila hua khusk be barg sehra

Bagole yahan tund bhooton ka akse mujassam bane hain

Magar mein to door aik peron ke jhurmat pe apni nigahein jamaaey huey hun

Na ab koi sehra na parbat na koi gulistaan

Ab aankhon mein jumbish na chehre pe koi tabassum na tiyuri

Faqat aik anokhi sadaa keh rahi hai ke tum ko bulaate bulaate mere dil pe gehree thakan chhaa rahee hai

Bulaate bulaate to koi na ab tak thaka hai na shayad thake gaa

To phir yeh nida aaeena hai faqat mein thaka hun

Na sehra na parbat, na koi gulistaan, faqat ab samandar bulaata hai mujh ko

Keh har shey samandar se aaee Samandar mein ja kar milegee.

Translation:

Ah these whisperings beckon you to come to me since long

and my heart is tired, sinking.

Sometimes for a moment, sometimes for long

I hear these voices

This unique sound that I hear

The caller beckons and is not tired

The caller will never tire of calling

"Oh my sweet child"

"I love you so much"

Look if you do not do this

there never will be any one more angrier than me"

"Oh my God, Oh my God!"

Sometimes a whine

Sometimes a smile

Sometimes a frown

But these voices beckon

They have given this life eternity

Alas, this unique sound that makes one tired

Threatens to drown all voices away

The eyes are still

The face does not smile or frown

Only the ears hear

Tis a garden

The breeze dances

The buds blossom

The blossoms' scent spreads

The flowers bloom

They die

Fall on the floor

Maketh a satin bed

Upon which the fairies of my desire dance

Giving an impression that this garden is my mirror

All faces shine, then adorn, then fade away

Never to rise in the mirror again

The majestic mountain, quiet, still

Has any brook asked its rocks what lies behind?

Alas, for me the lap of the mountain is enough

The lap is a valley

The valley has the river

The river has a boat afloat

The boat is a mirror

The faces reflect shining in the mirror

But they fade away

Never to return

This desert, vast, expansive, dry

The whirlwinds dance like ghosts embodied

I stare at the fronds of trees far away

No desert, no mountain, no garden for me

Eyes are still,No smile on my face

Nor frown on my brow

That unique sound says that my heart is now tired and calls you repeatedly

But never tires of calling you

It will never be tired

This sound ,a mirror

I am just tired

No desert, no mountain, no garden

Only the sea beckons

As all has come from the sea
So will return to the sea!

(Miraji's poem Samandar ka bulawa is unique representation of his mastery and unbridled use of expression. The poem is typical in its flow of thoughts, scenic representation of feelings and use of physical idioms of life relating to the Earth like river, mountains and desert.He expresses his feelings about life as memories of childhood, bonding, mother, his and man's relationship with Earth as a mother, life's restrictions and how we are supposed to lead our lives. The nuances of relationships and expectations which mothers or lovers or female members have with us.he then brings in the sea as eternal giver of life and also that to which man returns. In some cultures and societies, the corpses or remains have to go back to the sea. also in Bible it is written that before Universe there was water. His imagery eternalises the human life from cradle to death.He also shows the importance of the senses in experience and feelings and how close they are to life and death. The sound of the waves from the sea is used as a metaphor for both the sound of life and death.He uses the terms of "sada" as a sound of life and also as of death.He was a truly modern poet who used the Urdu language in a unique way. The abstraction in his expression also adds to the modernism which I think is almost post modern in Urdu poetry. My mother Anjum Zia taught me Urdu poetry and it is to her I owe my deep gratitude for this).

Piyaar ki kashti...Love Boat.

2012-01-01T10:21:00.000-08:00

Monet

یہ حسین لمحے گزر رہیں ہیں جو تیرے ساتھ
یہ دوبارہ این یہی ہے خواھش
یہ گزر نہ جایں یہی ہے خواھشے
وہ جو سامنے کھڑے ہے کشتی چمکتی
دمکتی
ے
کریک کراچی کے کے پرسکون پانیوں پے
رات کے سرمگیں اندھیرے میں وہ لڑکیوں کے قہ قھ
جو سال نو کی دعوت میں سجھ دھج کے آییں ہیں
اور جنکی خمار آلود آنکھوں میں جھانکتے ہیں ان کے ہم نشیں ہمسفر
کھنکتے قہقہے چھلکتے جام مہکی ہوئی شام
میں اپنے محبوب لوگوں کے ساتھ اپنے کمرے کے بستر پر سے دیکھتی ہوں یہ منظر
ایسا منظر نشیلا منظر
بہت زیادہ مزہ دینے والا منظر
بلکل مونٹ کی پینٹنگ میں آگیے ہوں اندر
اس کشتی کی قمقمے چمک رہے ہیں
ان کا رنگین لہکتا عکس پانی میں لہراتا رقص کرتا دل لبھاتا
اور وہ آدھ چاند
کریک کراچی کے سرمگیں پانیوں، آسمانوں کے اوپر ابھرتا ہوا
جیسے میرے من کا پیار
میں اس سردی کی شام میں اپنے پیاروں کے ساتھ دیکھتی ہوں
دل چاہتا ہے میں یہیں منجمد ہو جاؤں یہیں اشی طرھ اپنے پیارے محبوب لوگوں کے ساتھ
اور امر ہو جاؤں
اس مونٹ کی تصویر کی طرھ

Translation:

Ah, these beautiful moments that I spend with you
I want them to return
I wish them to last forever
That boat that shines parked over the peaceful waters of Creek Karachi
The laughter bellows over
of the ladies
Ladies who have come dressed to party
New Year's party on the boat
Their eyes drunk with their lovers' love
Laughter , wine and this evening
And I watch this scene from my bed
Lying with my loved ones
This intensely pleasurable scene
Like a Monet painting
I have entered this scenic painting
The lights in the boat shine
Green, blue, yellow
Their reflections dance on the Creek waters
Enticing, alluring
And the rising half moon
On the waters and the skies of Creek Karachi
Like the love in my heart
I gaze mesmerized at this beautiful scenery
Lying with my loved ones
I want to freeze in this scenery
Like this, forever
Becoming a Monet painting, eternal.
(Urdu words like surmageen, khumar alood, chalakte,amar can not be fully described or translated in English, however, I have tried to do so. I wrote this poem on New Year's day after spending wonderful time with my family).

Tu Ne Kaha...I Live For You,

2011-12-24T23:09:00.000-08:00

اس نے کہا چہرہ دکھا
میں تصویر بن کے رہ گیی

اس نے کہا کتھا سنا
میں کہانی بن کے رہ گی

اس نے کہا چھایے گھٹا
میری زلف کھل گیی

اس نے کہا مجھ کو ہنسا
میں کھل کھلا کے کھل گیی

اس نے کہا میں نہ تیرا
میں زندگی سے دھل گیی

اب ایک کالی راکھ ہے
جو سلگ رہی من میں ہے

اب جذبہ ایک جھاگ ہے
تو فقط ایک خواب ہے

میرا دل بھی ہے کرچی کرچی
میرا دھن ایک خاک ہے

یہ کھنڈر یہ ویرانے دیکھ
تیرا پیار ایک سراب ہے

یہ ساحل دل بھی بہ گیا
ریت پی ایک نشان خاک ہے

Us ne kaha chehra dikhaa
mein tasweer ban ke reh gayee

Us ne kaha katha suna
mein kahani ban ke reh gayee

Us ne kaha kaali ghataa
meri zulf khul gayee

Us ne kaha mujh ko hansa
mein khil khilaa ke khil gayee

Us ne kaha mein naa tera
mein zindagi se dhul gayee

Ab aik kaali raakh hai
jo sulag rahi man mein hai

Ab jazba aik jhaag hai
tu faqat aik khawab hai

Mera dil hai kirchi kirchi
mera dhan aik khaak hai

Yeh khanda yeh weeraane dekh
tera piyaar aik surab hai

Yeh saahil-e dil beh gaya
rait pe nishaane khaak hai

Translation:

He says show me your face
I transform into a painting

He says tell me a story
I become a book

He says the dark clouds come
My tresses emulate his wish

He says make me laugh
I rejoice with laughter

He says I am not yours
I die, untraced

Now remains a dark ashen hearse
Burning, smouldering

My passion, a mere foam
You are but a dream

My shattered heart is splintered
My body ashes like

See the plundered remains
Your love but a mirage

My heart's shore has been washed away
Left marks of sand on sand

Meherzaidi, the poet.

Teri muhabbat ka iqraar..Your love pledge!

2011-12-18T13:01:00.000-08:00

تو نے آ کر اچانک میری زندگی میں ایسے
کھولا در دل ایک سدا ہو جیسے

میں نے محسوس کیا تیرا یہ احساس نو
ایک ہمدم کی دلربا ادا ہو جیسے

اس گھٹن کی یہ آلودہ فضا کو دھوکر
اتنے برسوں کا حبس کردیا فنا ہو جیسے

اس کھلے در سے جو آیا ہوا کا جھونکا
ساری خوشبو تیری ذہن میں عیاں ہو جیسے

ایک امنگ کھنکتی مہکتی نغمگین
ایک پایل کی جھنکار نما ہو جیسے

میری ہر سانس خمار آلود تیرے احساس سے
ایک میری زندگی سدا اور بقا ہو جیسے

ایک امید پر بہار ایک نیا عہد وفا
زندگی کی دور سدا ہو جیسے

تیرے الفاظ کہ تو مجھ سےہے محبّت کرتا
ایک نییا ہو کنارے سے لگی جا جیسے

تیری الجھن اور میرے وہ گھاؤ گہرے
میرے جینے کا ہوں بھرپور سہارا جیسے

تیری آواز کا لمس تیرا وہ ہنسنا رونا
میرے دل کی دھڑکن کی نوا ہو جیسے

اب تو مجھے چھوڑ کے جائے بھی تو اے دلبر ہمدم
میرا شکوہ بھی بند قفل ایک سدا ہو جیسے

میں بہت خوش ہوں میرے تبسّم کی وجہ
ایک نیا جام محبّت دل نے پیا ہو جیسے

تیرے یہ الفاظ کہ تو کرتا ہے محبّت مجھ سے
میری اس عمررسیدہ کی نوا ہو جیسے

میری تصویر میں نے رنگ ہیں سجتے کھلتے
ایک ندرت بھرا بھرپور نشہ ہو جیسے

میرے گلشن دل میں پھر سے ایئ ہے بہار
ایک نوشتہ دیوار پے سر نو لکھا ہو جیسے

میرے اس ساحل دل کی سکونت کی قسم
تیرا احساس وفا ایک دریا نما ہو جیسے

آخر شب کو دل ریزہ بھی ہے پر سکوں
ابدی نیند بھی ایک امید سحر ہو جیسے

تیرا یہ کہنا کہ تو مجھ کرتا ہے محبّت جاناں
دل دھڑکنے کا ہو مضبوط بہانہ جیسے

Tu ne achanak aakar meri zindagi mein aise
khola dar-e dil aik sada ho jaise

Mein ne mehsus kiya tera ehsaas-e nau
Aik hamdam ki dilruba ada ho jaise

Is ghutan ki aalooda fiza ko dhokar
Itne barson ka habs dho diya ho jaise

Is khule dar se aaya jo hawa ka jhonka
saare khushboo teri zehan mein ayaan ho jaise

Aik umang khanakti mehekti naghmangeen
ek payal ki jhankaar numa ho jaise

Meri har saans khumaar aalood tere ehsaas se
Ek meri zindagi ki sada aur baqa ho jaise

Ek umeed-e pur bahar, ek naya ehd-e wafa
Zindagi ki nayee dur- e sada ho jaise

Tere ye alfaaz ke tu mujh se muhabbat karta
Aik nayya ho kinaare se lagee ja jaise

Teri uljhan mere woh ghaao gehre
Mere jeene ka hon bharpur sahara jaise

Teri aawaz ka lams tera woh hansna rona
Mere dil ki dharkan ki nawa ho jaise

Ab tu mujhe chor ke jaaye bhi to dilbar hamdam
Mera shikwa bhi bande qafl aik sada ho jaise

Mein buhat khush hun mere tabsum ki wajah
Aik naya jam-e wafa dil ne piya ho jaise

Tere yeh alfaaz ke tu karta hai muhabbat mu se
Meri is umr-e raseeda ki nawa ho jaise

Meri tasweer mein naye rang hain sajte khilte
Aik nudrat ka bharpur nasha ho jaise

Mere gulshan-e dil mein phir se aayee hai bahar
Ek nawishta deewar pe sare nau likha ho jaise

Mere is saahil-e dil ki sakunat ki qasam
Tera ehsaas-e wafa ek darya ho jaise

Aakhir-e shab ko hai dil-e reza bhi pursukoon
Abadi neend bhi aik umeed-e sahar ho jaise

Tera yeh kehna ke tu mujh se karta hai muhabbat jaanan
Dil dharakne ka ho mazboot bahana jaise

Translation:

Your love has opened the closed door of my heart
Like the words "Sim Sim"
A magical love song

I feel sweet emotions
Like enchanting , beguiling maneuvers of my beloved

Alas, I breathe free the air of love
Washed away are the polluted doubts

The sweet perfume of love has filled my heart
As the door of my heart opens

My hopes dance perfumed and melodious
Like a tinkering anklet song

Anjum &Zia

My every breath is drunken with your feelings
Like my life's eternal fountain of hope

A new hope, a new commitment to love
Like life's new lease

Your three words that "I love you"
My boat of heart has come ashore

Your confusion , my deep wounds
Those are my lifeline

As your voice's touch, your laughter, your tears
A sweet sound of my heartbeat like

Even if you leave me forever my darling
My woes will be locked away, just a lament like

I am but happy oh the reason for my smiles
I have drunk anew a wine of your love

Your words that "I love you"
My hope to live the rest of my life

My life's painting is colorful and bright
Your love's sweet colors fill my cup

My heart's garden flowers again
The writing of love is on the wall

I swear by my heart's quiet shore
Your love is as deep as a sea

At the night's last hour my shattered heart is restful
As if my journey ends in death's sweet dawn

Your words that "I love you" darling
A reason strong for my heart to beat

Meherzaidi, the poet.

Shah Jo Risalo..Sur Kapati...Pehli Daastan.

2011-12-12T10:54:00.000-08:00

Translation Urdu: Sheikh Ayaz
Translation English: Meherzaidi.

Akaili baith kar mat katna soot
Tujhe ho is mein kitnee hi maharat
Parakhne waale dekhen ge ise jab
Teri sab jaegee mehnat akarat

اکیلی بیٹھ کر مت کاتنا سوت
تجھے ہو اس میں کتنی ہی مہارت
پرکھنے والے دیکھیں گے اسے جب
تیری سب جاے گیمحنت اکارت

Alas thine mastery will be wasted
Whence thou doust this effort alone
The thread of beauty that thoust doth weave
Is judged by the divine eye of Excellence

اررے ماں جسنے تنہائی میں کاتاا
اسے حاصل ہوئے ہے خوب دولت
مگر وہ تار مجھ سے تو نا نکلے
بہت ہوتے ہے جن کی قدرو قیمت

O,mother only solitude brings out the excellence of mine effort
But I have yet to find the best weave in mine yarn of love divine

Ghuma charkhe ko aur kuch karle naadan
Ke bas do chaar din ki zindagi hai
Yahan jaisa kisee ne soot kaata
Usey waisee hi izzat bhi milee hai
Pahee ko haath se isne na chora
Jise Haasil shauor -o-aagihee hai

گھما چرخے کو اور کچھ کر لے نادان
کے بس دو چاردن کی زندگی ہے
یہاں جیسا کسی نے سوت کاتا
اسے ویسی ہی عزت بھی ملے ہے

Make untiring effort in thine quest for the divine excellence
For life is but short
Tis how thou weaves thine thread of love
Dost thou find honour and recognition in His court.
Hold firm the "Pahi" of divine love
All thine awareness and insight must lead thou there ,only there.

گزرتیجاتی ہے ہر ایک سا'عت
تجھے ہے فکرے فردا کی ضرورت
جہاں تک ہوسکے کاتے چلی جا
تجھے زیبا نہیں چرخے سے غفلت
کل اسکو سوت اگر ماچی دکھاۓ
پرکھنے والے کو ہوگی شکایت

Guzar jaati hai har aik saa'at
Tujhe hai fikre farda ki zaroorat
Jahan tak ho sake kaatey chalee ja
Tujhe zeba nahin charkhe se ghaflat
Kal usko soot agar maachi dikhae
Parakhne waaley ko hogee shikayat

Each moment passes in vain
Thoust need worry about thine future
Spend thine moments in tireless effort
Ignore not the spinning wheel of effort
The yarn of love must be perfect
Lest the Examiner rejects your devotion

Abhee to kaat le jo kaatna hai
Agar hain eid ki khushiyan manana
Guzar jaegee ghaflat mein jo saa'at
Nahin mumkin phir is ka lot ana
Kahin aisa na ho sakhiyon mein tujh ko
Nadamat se pardein aansoo bahana

ابھی تو کات لے جو کاتنا ہے
اگر ہیں عید کی خوشیاں منانا
گزر جاۓگی غفلت میں جو سا'عت
نہیں ممکن پھر اس کا لوٹ آنا
کہیں ایسا نہ ہو سکھیوں میں تجھ کو
ندامت سے پڑیں آنسو بہانا

Make perfect thine beautiful yarn today
If you want your final reward of joy
A moment spent in ignorance
Is a lifetime lost
Beware you may have to weep tears of sorrow
In friends' company someday

نہیں کیوں فکر تجھکو کاتنے کی
تیرا بستر ہے اور انگڑیاں ہیں
تجھے شام و سحر بے کار رہنا
یہی کیاعید کیتیاریاں ہیں
بڑی سج دھج سے سکھیاں آ ینگی کل
تیری تقدیر میں مایوسیاں ہیں

Alas thou dost not care about thy weaving
Tis your bed that entices you
Your days and mornings spent in lazy wanderings
Are these the preparations of joy?
All thine friends will be well adorned
Thine destiny but a barren expanse

Intezaar...Waiting.

2011-10-27T18:15:00.000-07:00

Saari raat firaq-e yaar mein guzri
Zeh-e raqeeb haseen itna bhi to na tha

Teri nigaah ke teer kaafi the dil lubhane ko
Mein tujh se bezaar itna to na tha

Har ek ghardhi kathin jaankuna guzree
Tera firaaq itna jan kuna to na tha

Jo range hina phaila humair manind sare shaam
Haseen is se kaheen dil ka manzar to na tha

Bitaaee jo bhi ghardyian tere firaaq mein yaar
Buhat sangeen guzrein tu hamsafar jo na tha

Meher theher abhi baaqi hai aas baqi hai
Yeh shab guzeeda qahar piyame seher to na tha

Translation:

All my night spent in waiting for my love
Is not in vain but is my rival so beautiful?

Ah your eyes' spears enough to tear my heart
I was so ready to bear this love's agony

Each moment was spent in torment
But your love was not tormenting

Meherzaidi, the poet.

The red colour of henna spreads across
My heart's scenery never so beautiful

All the moments spent waiting for my love
Were torment as you were not with me

Wait, O Meher, hope is there for you
This long dark night's torment was not the message of dawn.

Mera Qafas....My Beloved Prison.

2011-10-15T22:30:00.000-07:00

Painting By Abro Khuda Bukhsh.

Hum qafas ki deewaar takte rahe

Saare panchee jo azaad phirte rahe

Maninde jugnoo woh sab chamakte rahe

Hum qafas ke hi ander jalte rahe

Woh damak kar roshan urdte rahe

Hum ander hi ander bujhte rahe

Zindagi sare sham hi bujh gayee

Aur buhat se zakhm phir bhi khilte rahe

Saare loh o qalam sajaate hain tasweere butaan

Ham maninde Azar pathar ke peechey rahe

Sham aayee to yeh raaz e but zar khula

Saare roshan sawerey kaheen khogaye

Tum kaheen jab samander ke baher khare jab raho

Dekh lena woh safeenai jo nazare mauje safar ho gaye

Meher ab tu theher tera safar ab aakhir huwa

Tere jugnoo patenge se jalne lage.

Fire Fliies(jugnoo) in Thar by Rafiq Mangi.

Translation:
Ah, the walls of my prison
My entire landscape, my horizon

Everyone outside shines like fireflies free
But I burn inside my prison

While the fireflies shine bright and free
I am but a smouldering fire.

Life's lamp was dimmed early in the evening
But these sores keep on hurting

All easels shine with bright new faces
I hide behind my own statues like Azar

As the evening dawned , this mystery was solved
That the bright mornings are lost forever

As you stand on some faraway shore
Look back at the ships that were lost to the journey

Meher, stay still your journey ends now
Your fireflies are burning like moths, alas.

Another Boat, Another Shore but for Our Love.

2011-09-06T10:03:00.000-07:00

As I step in another boat
I see a new shore.
I look back
I see you standing there
By the side of another boat
Your soft muslin Kurta
And your sweet smile
Your brown soft hair
Your sweet lips
I see your sweet smile
Your brown , brown eyes
Sad and loving
Beckoning me ever so enticingly to come back
Back to your shores
Where the ocean laps gently
Kissing your feet
I put my eyes on your feet , my love
Ever so lovingly, gently.
The soft breeze brushing against your cheek
Where I want to put my lips ever so often

The boatman beckons me to hurry
I step forward to the boat
He holds out his hand
I think of your warm, firm hand
As it holds my hand , lovingly, caressingly
I feel your fingers, entwining mine,
lovingly, caressingly
Our hands held together
Twining our souls together
Twining our love forever

The rocking motion of the high seas
I think of my head in your lap
As you gently played with my tresses
Ever so gently
And your kiss on my forehead
Sealing your love for me
And my love for you forever.

As the storm rocks my boat
And smashes it into smithereens
As I drown in this vast ocean
And the boatman throws a vest around me
I think of your sweet smile
Your sweet lips upon mine
In the twilight of love
So calm and serene
A dark, peaceful sleep comes over me
I think of your sweet smile

O my love.

(In loving memory of my handsome father,Zia Abdul Wajid (late) and my beautiful mother ,Anjum Zia who lives abroad.A poem of love by Meherzaidi )

A Mermaid's White Thighs.

2011-08-27T00:24:00.000-07:00

A Mermaids White Thighs.

A Short Story By Meherzaidi.

She could almost feel him standing behind her. A warm, musky smell. A sort of smell, well, she imagined would come from him or her own skin after they had made love. Torrid love,passionate love. The sort of love that comes after two partners understand each other .Want each other completely. Totally understand the nuances, the arguments,the meaning of what is said like friends. The kind of understanding that comes when they want to be with each other all the time, every day, every moment. The kind of passion that makes the world such a beautiful place. She knew that understanding between married couples was different. The soap that he likes, the food he dislikes, are his shirts ready on time and all the boring stuff. That kind of understanding did not produce torrid love. That kind of understanding did not arouse the passion that makes lovemaking magical, mythical.

She felt him behind her as she cooked her meal. She felt his warm arms encircle her waist. His smell was so strong, almost primal. A mixture of cigar smoke, musk and well she could not place it but she loved it. He kissed her cheek , ever so gently almost as if a light feather had touched her. A huge wave of passion engulfed her. It passed almost above her head. She could feel the warmth way above her head. Her pale cheeks flushed. She felt her breasts heave up and down. She wanted to see herself in the mirror. Love is like a sweet heady wine. So addicting. She felt his lips on her neck. It was too hot in the kitchen. She needed to get out. She needed a cooler place.

He had made love to his neighbour. That is what he said. She was happy. What neighbour? He had not told her about this girl ,though. Does not matter. She was happy as he was happy. What did he find in her that lighted his desire? Her white thighs, he said. Her white thighs. She again felt the huge warm wave of passion engulf her. She touched her neck. Sweat was dripping from her forehead. Sweat was over her lips. It was too warm at this time of the year . She almost burned her food. The feeling of his love was too good, addicting. She wanted him so much that it almost hurt her.

She felt his masculine hands hold her hands in a tight grip that it almost hurt. He is too passionate. Her heart pounded. Have I forgotten my cardiac medicine today? She wondered. She felt his hands move down to her lift her skirt and touch her thighs, ever so gently. The huge, warm, passionate wave engulfed her. It made her limp .like a jelly fish. No she felt like a mermaid, beautiful, enticing, magical, mythical sitting on the shore. His hands were touching her white thighs. His warm, musky, strong manly hands. Her head was spinning. She was walking in a dream, a warm, hot ,magical dream. She was dancing in a daze. Floating Mermaid.

Then the telephone rang. He was on the other end. His voice was like a lifeline. I want you now, he said huskily. But you made love to your neighbour ,she asked. I want you. But you loved her white thighs. No, my darling ,he said in a hoarse voice. They were your white thighs. I am coming down by the twelve o clock train. Cannot wait to see you, can’t wait any more. She froze. Her head was spinning, she was losing consciousness. She gently uncovered her thighs and looked at the lower half of her body. Her mermaid’s body. And she pushed her wheelchair out of the kitchen as she could not breathe anymore.

Yeh Tera Haseen Faraib...Ah, your sweet deception.

2011-07-23T13:40:00.000-07:00

Mein tu samjhee thee ke tu mera hai hamdam, dilbar
Mere Is weeran se dil ki baharon ka payam
Mein thi shayad mubtila aik faraib mein
Tere haseen dilruba faraib mein.
Teri un nasheelee aankhon ka jhoota sa faraib
Teri us naghmageen awaz ka meetha sa faraib
Tere boson ka faraib
Teri baahon ka faraib
Tere us jism ka faraib
Jo mein samjhee thee muhabbat ka meri hai paimana
Tere un lamhon ka faraib
Jo guzare the tu ne mere piyaar ko lubhane ko
Aik haseen, daghabaz faraib
Aik haseen dhoka, ek jhoot

Mein nahi chor ke jaa sakti hun phir bhi
Is haseen jaal ko,yeh tera faraib

Mera toota hua khwaab bhi hai mujhko aziz
Tera jhoota piyaar, tera faraib
Mein hun mubtila tere piyaar mein aye harjai
Yeh tera daam-e faraib, mere harjai

Tu mujhe lota dai mere dil ka saroor
Mein samajh jaaon gi saccha tera jhoota wada
Mein giriftar hun teri muhabbat mein tere daam-e faraib
Aik jhoota sa nasha hai mere jism ko lagta
Aakhire shab ka ho jaise eik saccha wada
Bas hun thame mein kharee is dorahe par
Mein nahi chor saktee tera yeh jhoota sa faraib.

(Aik Zalim Pagal Larke Ke Naam..AmyWinehouse ki death par Meherzaidi key kuch shair)

translation

Ah, I desire you intensely, my deceptive lover

I desire your companionship

In this autumn dwelled heart of mine

A spring's sweet promise!

Ah, this sweet deception

Your love's sweet guile

Sweet, enticing guile

Of your beguiling eyes

Of your melodious voice

Of your enamouring kisses

Of your enslaving arms

Of your body's sweet warmth

That I thought was my desire's trophy

The deception of the moments that we spent together

Ah, this beautiful deception

Ah, this beautiful lie, this myth shattered

But nay, I cannot leave this love and go away

This beautiful web, this deceptive love

My shattered dream is also precious to me

Precious your deceptive love

Your beguiling ways

I am in love with you, O deciever

I am entrapped by your love!

Give me back my heart's joys

I will take as true your false promises

I am enslaved by your love

I am enticed by your treacherous ways

My body is addicted to your love,to your lustful desires

I believe to be true your false promises

Just like a vow given at the last moment of the night

I pause at this crossroads

I cannot leave this beguiling love, your love!

(A poem by Meherzaidi)

Meherzaidi,the poet.

Jalta Gulistan, Bhujhte log

2011-07-14T16:03:00.001-07:00

A Sindhi hari girl.

Aap yahan aye kiun
Aap Urdu bolne waale
Aap bhoke nange aaye
Sab he aatey hain bhoke nange
Is bairan, beraagi dunya mein
Is bhuki nangi dunya mein
Is bhuke nangi basti mein
Koi bhi boli bolein
Bhook nang bhook nang hi rahte hai
Koi bhi bhasha gaayein
Bhalo ya phir ultee seedhi
Bhook nang aur aflas to nazar aatee hai
Jo is nayee basti ka muqaddar ban gayee hai
Jo hai muqaddar
Jo is nayee basti ka hai khota sikka
Chalta hai har dam har so
Tum baat karo ya chup raho
Hum tum ko aise marein ge
Hum tum ko aisa katein ge
Aik aik din mein sau sau
Jab maar pare ge dekho ge
Kiyun ke
Tum Urdu bolne wale ho
Tumri boli bhalo na bashe
Bilkul waise he jaise
Unki boli bhalo na bashad
Woh jo is neye desh ke liye maare gayee
Chorde gaye , kaate gaye
Woh desh jo ab ek khwab hua
Kuch sach hua
Kuch be hisaab hua
Ab kehti hai aik boordhi bhooki maan
Hum ab aur bete nahin katwaen ge
Tum hamare khoon ka hisaab do
Is desh ko basti banane ka hisaab do
Yeh des jis ka bhook aur aflas muqaddar hai
Is des ka jahan ke bhooke nange log
Badin se Sehwan tak,
Rohri se Sukkur tak hairan hain , pareshan hain
Kuch log abhi tak zinda hain
Achey waale mare gaye
Aur ghurbat har soo chayee hai
Aik zillat ab tak chayee hai
Bhook, nang aflas mein luthree
Izzat ab tak baqi hai
Yeh mera hari bhooka hai
Kitne aag mein zinda hai
Yeh meree Raano zinda hai
Jalti reit pe zinda hai
Yahan sacchal Sain bhi zinda hai
Toota ujra zinda hai
Yahan Raano ka Moomal zinda hai
Go, bhooka nanga, ujra hai
Woh Raani kab ke khwaab hui
Jo kuch dilwatee khane ko
Ab faqat lutere zinda hain
Jo Moomal ke khwaab bhi tordhein ge
Jo is basti ko bhi tordhein ge
Woh naag hain kale chaye huey

A Sindhi woman, violence victim from family.

Tum us din ki ab khair karo
Jab ek ek hari uthey ga
Woh kitne bhasha boley ga
Woh kitney naghme gaye gaa
Yeh kambakhtee bhi chore gi
Roti us ki taazi hogee
Aur bhasha us ki meethi hogee
Payon mein us ke chappal hoge
Peit mein uske roti hogee
Jhootee na hogee, sacchhi hogee
Sindh ka baasi khata hoga
Apna haq ka khata hoga
Mare saare lutere honge
Sindh ka baasi jaga hoga
Jagirdar, lutere rotey honge
Bhooka nanga chaaya hoga
Saccha Sacchal chaya hoga
Jogi,Bhittai chaya hoga.

Woh saaree bhasha bolein ge
Woh sacch ki bhasha bolein ge
Tum unka haq na looto ge
Tum unke peit na pharo ge
Tum unka haq na maro ge

Yeh basti phir se jagmag hogee
Yeh basti phir se roshan hogee
Hum phir bhi Urdu bolein ge
Ham sacch ka daman na chorein ge
Jaise Karachi banaya tha
Ham Pakistan banayein ge
Ham bhook , nang mitain ge
Ham Pakistan banain ge
Hum Pakistan sawaraen ge.

A Hari child in Sindh.

Meherzaidipoet at medicalcamp Sindh

Translation:

Pray,why have you immigrated here?

You, Urdu speaking people.

You naked, hungry people

Alas, does not everybody come naked , hungry into this world?

This wretched, naked, hungry world.

Whatever their language,hungry will be hungry

Whatever songs they sing

Sweet or otherwise

Hunger will be seen, nakedness will be seen

It has become the fate of this land

Povery, nakedness and hunger

that has become the destiny.

The fake coin of our fate

Exchanged and traded all over this land

Whether you are quiet or you speak

We will kill you

We will butcher you

A hundred in a day

When you get the beating you will see

Because you are Urdu speaking

We do not like your language

Just like we did not like their language

Those that were killed for their new' Desh'

Those that were abandoned

Those that were butchered

That 'Desh' that is now a dream

Some achieved ,some unaccounted for

Now an old hungry woman says

We will not sacrifice any more of our sons

Give us the reward of our sacrifices

Give us the account of our spent blood

Give us the account of our sacrifices to make this land

A dweller's sweet home

This land whose fate is hunger and poverty

Where there are naked and hungry people

From Badin to Sehwan

From Rohri to Sukkur

Bewildered, unhappy, lost.

Some people live lavishly

While the peoples' heroes died

And poverty rules everywhere

Unworthiness is the fate of its people

The honorable wear the torn and tattered clothes

Of poverty and hunger

My tiller is hungry

My worker is hungry

My merchant is hungry

My young one is hungry

My mother is hungry

My daughter is hungry

My son works at garbage collection

my older son is unemployed

My eyes are sunken

My lips are parched

My skin pale with hunger

My Hari is hungry

He burns in hunger

My Raano is alive

In the burning desert sands of Sindh

Sacchal Sain is alive

Broken, yet alive

Moomal is alive

Naked,hungry, he is alive

Ah, that Queen is but a dream now

Who would have removed our hunger

Now only thieves rule

Thugs who will shatter Moomal's dreams

Who will shatter this land

Those black 'Naags' rule all around.

That day will come soon

When the tiller will rise

He will speak all languages

He will sing many songs

This ill fate will leave him

He will eat fresh bread

His language will be sweet

His feet will have sandals

His belly will be full

Sindh dweller will eat

He will have his rights

All the looters will die

The Sindh dweller will live.

The landlord will be crying

Sacchal Sain will rule

Jogi Bhittai will rule

The hungry, poor will rule.

They will speak all languages

They will speak the truth

You could not snatch their rights

You could not transgress their rights

This land will rise and shine

We will always speak Urdu

We will not leave truth

We will make Pakistan

The same way we made Karachi

We will remove poverty

We will remove hunger

We will rebuild Pakistan

Why do not you too?

The background of this poem is the riots and killings that occured in Karachi in July2011 where in four days more than 100 people were killed who were ethnically Urdu speaking. In some localities masked men with heavy, sophisticated weapons came and killed, raped, looted and burnt. the police and rangers were not ordered to control the massacre till these colonies were totally massacred.The senior minister of Pakistan Peoples Party, Dr Zulfikar Mirza came on television and then called people who came from India at partition "bhooke, nange log" meaning naked and hungry people . These Urdu speaking immigrants are the ones that lost so much in partition and came to Pakistan all over, some in Punjab and some in Sindh. Many were educated and most education, bureaucracy posts and even clerks were these immigrants. Karachi became a hub of industry and economy as many Gujrati and Memoni speaking who are now grouped with Urdu speaking invested and started the industry and trade.These people are second generation now and their progeny has never seen India. Urdu has become the national language which is spoken all over Pakistan from remote FATA to the magapolis Karachi. It is a versatile language with Turkish, Arabic, Hindi words and is mainly kept literally alive by the Punjabi writers and poets in the world.

AIK TOOTA HUA JAAM...THIS BROKEN GOBLET.

2011-06-20T11:42:00.000-07:00

Haan bas hai mera dil ab aik toota hua jaam
Tu ne jisko thukra ke phaink diya dare maikhane pe nafrat se
Haan mera dil to hai faqat aik thukrayee hui kirchi bhare raakh
Jo tere hiqarat se hai zakhme, ghayal.

Haan mera dil to hai ab sare sham bujha
Tere ehsaas mein ghayal
Tere is dard se bojhal
Aur ab hogee har aik raat sulagtee hui us raakh numa
Jo sulagtee he rahe, kabhi bujh na paye
Yeh meri shorishe dil yad -e rafta ki tarha roshan , bujhtee
Aik chingaree jo har dam hai jalane ko mujhe tayyar

Aur woh bhool gaya hai mere us piyaar ka lams
Aur mein toot gayee us ka intezar liye
Ab dikhane ko bhi nahin aankh ka aansoo usko
Ab sulagta hua dil bhi ho aakhire shab ka musafir jaise
Shayad use ehsaas ho ke us ne maar diya hai mujh ko
Par nahin woh nahin samjhe ga abhi
Ab khatam is haseen daastan ka wajood
Ab hai thanda woh lamase dil ka giriftar tanoor
Aik sard sa bosa hai mujhe yaad faqat ab aakhir
Us ki aankhen bhi na dekheen ke mein kehte shayad
Us ka tha piyar ka faraib shayad saccha

Ab to yeh dile ghayal nahin paata hai qarar
Aur us ki hai ilzaam tarashi eik neza-e talwar
Woh mujhe karke hai ghayal buhat khush abhi
Aur mera dil to hai ab reza reza yuheen
Aur mera dil to hai ab kirchee kirchee
Aik toote huey thukraye huey jaam ki tarha
Ab sambhal pa na sakoon gi mein hargiz hamdam
Tu ne ab tordh diya dil ko mere jam numa.

Translation:

Ah, my heart is like a broken goblet
That which thoust thrown away with hatred
My heart is nothing but a broken hearse
Full of ashes dimly lit
The shadows dark and tall on the walls
Nothing but like an injured caged bird.

My heart is now doomed early in the evening
Injured by your feelings
Seething in the pain of your love
Now each night will be like a dimly lit ashen hearse
Lit eternally, never cooled
My heart's wanton desires burn
Like a fire lit in the memories past
Burning, extinguishing.

Alas , my lover forgets my love's sweet embrace
I stand broken waiting for him
My tears run dry
My heart is still at the end of the night
May be my lover will know someday how I died
But, alas, he will not know soon, not now.

And now the sweet love's tale ends
The fiercely lit fire is now cold
In the end there is but a cold kiss
O, how I longed to see his eyes
O, how I longed to see his deception.

Alas, my heart will never find peace now
Alas, his accusations are like lances
He smiles while my heart is injured
My heart is broken, splintered
My love is now broken, ashen.

Teri Aarzoo...My Desire.

2011-06-12T08:23:00.000-07:00

Teri aarzoo aik dori se bandhee ho jaise
Tootne ko hai yeh khuwahish bhi abhi aise

Aake maqtal mein woh poochta hai harjai
Kyun hai ashkbaar tu yahan aise

Mein chalee jaaon mekhane se bin pee kar saqee
Tu pillaey to chashme jaanan se me ko waise

Mein bichard kar bhi nahin chorthee hun weerane ko
Us ki chubhti si muhabbat ho wehshat jaise

Kya kare qais kahan jaae woh rone dhone
Mar ke bhi us ki muhabbat na chore aise

Tere is lams ka ehsaas hai dile dushman par
Ek qafase jism ka ho pardae pinhaan jaise

Mein khardee sochtee hun tere bose ke us shole ko
Ek bujhee chingaree se sulgee ho naee aatish jaise

Ab theher ja safar zeest hua khatam yaheen
Aik faqat aarzoo hai Meher daastan teri jaise

Translation:

My desire for you is almost like
A broken thread

Alas, The killer is asking in the death cell
O condemned one why do you cry?

I leave the lust for wine, O beloved
If thou make me drunk with your eyes

I cannot leave this bewilderness ever
His love is like a misery eternal

Alas, where does Qais go for comfort
Her love does not leave him even after death

Your touch is entrenched on my heart
Only the prison of my body in between

O, how I remember your fiery kisses
Lighting a new fire in my smoldering desire

Stay and rest your life's journey ends here
The story of your life is just a tale of unfulfilled desires, O Meher.

Meher Zaidi, the poet.

My Freedom, Your Love.

2011-04-10T23:09:00.000-07:00

Meherzaidi, the poet.

I entered your promised garden
The one you promised me pre-existence
The one you promised me in my dreams
The one you promised me in my desires
I entered that same paradise

This paradise that had figs,
This paradise that had grapes
This paradise that had apples
This paradise that had cherries
All for our love's sweet heady wine
I entered your love's paradise
That was your abode
In my dreams, desires and existence.

There was music of thine harp
There was melody of thine flute
I danced in abandonment
To the drumbeat of thine drums

And the magic flowed
In my head adorned with a crown of flowers
White lilies,yellow orchids, pink tulips
And the whole skies stars
My feet adorned with your love's sweet anklets
They jingled throughout my heaven
I danced in sweet love's abandonment.

Then the gods did not like our love
They were annoyed at our happiness
They wanted peace and quiet in the garden
This garden of our love
They wanted deathly silence
They wanted us to behave
They wanted the death of Joy
They wanted the death of Spring
They wanted the death of Love
They wanted deathly silence
In our paradise garden of Love.

Ah, my crown is made of thorns now
Though I still wear it with pride
Ah, my feet are shackled now
Though I still wear them with love's sweet agony
Ah, my dance is now a tremor
Hidden, unjoyous, sad and trembling
Though I still sometimes hope
To break away back into my love's paradise dancing
Free and beautiful as a woman
A full woman with my sexuality and pride
To dance freely in this perfumed paradise
That is my abode now
This Earth.
With perfumed flowers and heady wine
With love's sweet pleasures and the joys of Spring
With sweet melodies like honey on my lips
This my paradise, this Earth.
In my Freedom of unbound expression.
May the gods be dead forever.

Boticelli, the birth of Venus..

Hanging By The Cliff.

2011-04-08T11:49:00.000-07:00

My eyes gaze gently upon the vast expanse below
Green and mauve valleys with lush green meadows
Yellow orchids, orange blossoms, red roses
Bright blue geraniums and pink cherry blossoms
This, my vale of love
Fragrant, young and beautiful

My ears hear the sweet melody that the bluebird sings
Hopping from bough to bough
Laden with sweet fruits and bright flowers
Tis spring
In my vale of love

My fingers touch the cool blue waters
Falling gently, caressingly
Bringing up soft foamy froth
Touching my lips
Tis, Spring of my love

I cannot look away from this vale
Vale of my love in Spring
I cannot leave this rocky cliff
By which I hang in this vale
My vale of love

Oh, my beloved
Even as you depart forever
Never to come back
I have found my place here
In this vale of love
Hanging by a cliff

Even as the autumn comes
And the colors of my vale turn red, brown and gold
Even as my palms bleed
And the chill air touches my bare shoulders
I will hang
By this cliff
Overlooking my, this vale of love

Even as my lips turn dry and crackle
And the green valley is over run by cacti
Even as iguanas and stormy lizards run wild
I will look at my vale
This, my vale of love
Hanging by the cliff

Flowers by Meherzaidi, the poet.

Forever and ever.

Buds by Meherzaidi, the poet.

Meherzaidi on Lotus Lake, Sindh 1987.

Mein Ne Jana Tujhe....Oh, How I Miss You!

2011-04-02T13:50:00.000-07:00

Mein ne jana tujhe tere jaane ke baad
Mein ne samjha tujhe apne marne ke baad

Tu yuheen bas gaya mere is zehan mein
Mein ne paya tujhe tere jaane ke baad

Teree khushboo hai ab meri zindagi ki kiran
Woh yaheen bas gayee tere jaane ke baad

Ab qadam uth bhi jaen kisee rah par
Yeh safar ab khatam tere jaane ke baad

Teri ungliyon ka lamas hai meri zulf par
Kon Sawanre hai yeh tere jaane ke baad

Yeh mere gaal bhi hain ab thande pare
Aur sookha dahan tere jaane ke baad

Mera ghar bujh gaya par mera dil hai abad ab
Woh teri yaad aye tere jaane ke baad

Tu Meher ab qeher aisa na dekhe kabhee
Wehshate baikaran tere jaane ke baad

Translation:

Alas, I love thee more after thou have gone away
Alas, I want thee more after thou have left

Thine shadow haunts mine heart forever, completely
I have found thee after thou has gone

Thine sweet smell has pervaded mine senses forever
It stays with me forever and ever

Mine life's short journey has thus ended
Even if mine feet tread new paths

Thine fingers' touch stays on mine tresses
Alas, who will caress them when thou are gone away

Mine cheeks are now cold with death's pallor
And lips parched after thou has gone away

Mine hearse is cold but the heart is warm, thus
Thine sweet memory pervades mine empty heart

O, Meher do not despair in anguish
There swells a sea of unbound misery after thou has gone.

(This poem is written in honor of Azm Behzad , Behzad Lakhnavi's grand son. I was his facebook friend and came to know about him only after his death. He is distant relation also. I have met his son, Matloob Behzad)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yiN7_bSW2P8

Meherzaidi, the poet.

Bahar Ka Intezaar... I wait for Spring.

2011-03-21T14:20:00.000-07:00

Mein chu ke tujh ko khush huwe hun
Bahar ka intezar kar rahe hun

Yeh sehne gul bhi hara huwa hai
Damak raha hai
Mein tere dil ko samajh rahi hun
Bahar ka intezar kar rahi hun

Tu ab hai aata mere chaman mein
Umang ki roshan kali ke peechey
Tarap rahi hun
Yahan khari hun
Bahar ka intezaarkar rahi hun

Yeh gul khile hain
Chaman hare hain
Mere is dil ki har ek galli bhi
Mehak rahi hai
Yeh aarzoo bhi dehak rahi hai
Mein jaagti hun
Na so rahi hun
Yahan khari hun
Bahar ka intezaar kar rahi hun

Mein sochte hun
ke shayad abke
Tu aake dekhe
mere is man ko
Tatole dil ko
Samandaron ke hisaar par bhi
Mein ab khari hun
Ulajh gaye hun
Yahan khari hun
Bahar ka intezar kar rahi hun
Yeh mera dil bhi sulag raha hai
Dehak raha hai
yeh ghuncha dil ka
Mehak raha hai
Mein sochtee hun
Yahan khari hun
mein jal rahi hun
sulag rahi hun
Bahar ka intezar kar rahi hun

Woh nama bar bhi
samajh raha hai
Palat gaya hai
Na bolta hai
faqat yahan mein
abhi khari hun
Bahar ka intezaar kar rahi hun

Translation

I touch thee
I touch Spring
Ah, how adorned is this garden
Blooms' abandon
Shining
I touch your heart
I touch Spring

Lo and behold
You enter this garden
Of love's sweet promise
I stand and wait
I touch Spring

The flowers bloom
The meadows shine
Perfume adorned valleys
My heart's desires burn
I cannot sleep
I lie awake
I touch Spring

I wait for your touch
On my heart
I wait for you eyes
To see my heart
Shake my heart
I Search
I wait and stand by the sea
By the sea embrace
I am confused
I stand and wait
I touch spring
My heart is burning
My heart pounds
My heart simmers
I wait
I think
Your love's perfume fills
The garden of my desires
I touch Spring

The postman knows
He has turned back
He does not speak
I stand alone
Here
This moment
I wait for Spring!

Meherzaidi, the poet.

Tera Hisaar Mera Sarab....Your Caucasian Chalk Circle.

2011-03-18T07:38:00.000-07:00

Tera Hisaar Mera Sarab

Aur woh aahista aahista tang kar raha hai apna hisaar

Mere zehan ki us khulee khirkee par

Mera zehan jo hai ek aazad panchee ki tarhe

Kabhi zakhmi kabhi ghayal

Kabhi bezaar kabhi mayal

Aur yeh mera dil bhi to hai

ghayal panchee ki tarhe

Kabhi zakhmi kabhi

bojhal

Aur kia mein us ko dikhaon

Yeh dil-e ghayal ghayal

Woh to hai abhi ek khayal-e subhe nau ki terha

Abhi saada abhi mushkil

Abhi uthtee hui eik umade nau ki tarha

Pehla ehsaas

Ya phir shayad

Tera bhoola huwa aik mohoom khayal

Jo kabhi raat ke pichle pehar mein ajaae achanak aise

Kisee sotey huwe dard ko jagane ke liye

Aur woh aahista aahista karta hai tang apna hisaar mere dil par

Mein apnee khalish chupane ko hun baichain abhi

Mein tarptee hun abhi us ko chupane ke liye

Aik boseeda tamanna ka wajood

Aik muhabbat ka hisaar

Aik tootey hue jaam ka toota hua

Ghayal sa khumaar

Aake ab bhairdh do yeh boseeda dar-e maikhana

Jis ki deemak bhi hai ab toote huae lashe ki tarha

Jis ke boseeda shaarb ab deti nahin hum ko khumaar

Jis ki boseeda sharab ab deti nahin dil ko sukoon

Ab tau dil bhi hai har waqt khamosh, jalta , bujhta

Aur woh tang karta hai apna hisaar mere dil se qareeb

Mere us mazeeyi boseeda ki hai raakh kured

Shayad mere dard se woh aajae mere dil ke qareeb

Aur rakh de mere toote huey dil pe apna woh haath

Aur le le mere peeshanee ka bosa jaise

Aur mere gaal ko woh choomle halke halke

Shayad woh soch raha hai abhi aise

Aur mein mehsoos kar rahi hoon us ka hisaar

Dil bhi shayad abhi mehsus kare halke halke

Aik mohoom si pur umeed kiran

Shayad aik chingari sulag jaye halke halke

Aur ab us ka hisaar hai jaala jaala

Mere is dil-e boseeda pe tang halke halke

Mein usey rok dun haan phir bhi nahin

Mera yeh zehan hai mayal halke halke

Aur woh aahista aahista apna hisaar tang kar raha hai

Mere is dil ke dareeche pe halke halke

Meherzaidi, the poet.

Schanze And Me.

2011-03-06T03:43:00.000-08:00

Woh ghazala chashm aur subuk chaal bari
Us Ki aamad se hai meri dil ki baharon mein khumaar
Us ki aahat se hai mere piyaar ki joban sarshaar
Us ki hai aankh jo aahoo ki ghazala si chashme nihaar
Us ka kaajal hai dil ko lubhane har dam tayyar
Yeh meri piyaari si beti hi to hai
Yeh meri subuk chaal piyari si beti hi to hai

Yeh meri laala sifat piyari si beti hi to hai
Yeh meri shula badan piyari si beti hi to hai
Us ki jo chaal har ek aahoo-e ban ko karde maat
Us ke hanste huaey lab karen shagufta har khilta gulaab
Us ki baaton ki mithaas kare mere ghar ko har dam roshan
Us ke geeton se mehekta rahe mera sheesha numa dil shadab
Us ke gaisoo ki ghataen mere gham par hain haawee hardam
Us ki hai aankh ka har tara tapkta, gohar-e nayab
Jab woh roothe to meri kainaat hai darham barham
Jab woh hans de to meri dunya hai aabad wa shaad

Mein ne har dam har lamhe hai us ko chaaha
Har khalish har tapish woh hai mere dil ki hamdam
Jab se woh aayee hai mere jeevan ki bahaaron mein hunooz
Mera dil shaad hua hai misl piyaasi ko saagar jaise
Us ki har salgirah mein ne manai hai zaroor
Aise hi josh se ho jashne baharan jaise
Ek ek saal hai roshan masroor ba khushboo-e bahar
Satrawehn saal ki joban bhi hai us ke hi rang se sarshaar

Piyaari piyaari si meri Schanze hai gurya rani
Us ke abboo aur mere dil ki hai woh har dam jaani
Ya Khuda us ke chamane dil ko to aabad rakhna
Us ke moti se jeevan ko hardam to murraqae asbab rakhna
Koi gham koi ranjish na kabhi paas aye uske
Woh hamesha muhabbat ka pehne huai taaj aaye
Us ka woh piyaar bhara dil bhi toote na kabhi
Mein yuheen us ko duwayen deti reh loon hardam
Paye woh ek piyaara sa sachha sa saathi hamdam
Us ka dil kabhi toote na ho kirchi kirchi
Khelti rahe woh is jeevan mein hanstee bastee.

Translation:
She brings joys to this sad heart of mine
Her love wakes me up
Her eyes are the beauty unsurpassed by the deer
Her kohl eyed beauty brings joy to my heart
This my blooming rose is my daughter
This my deer like runner is my daughter
Her laughter brings life to a blooming rose
Her sweet melodious voice brings peace to my heart
Her songs bring my fragile heart strength
Her dark long tresses ward away the sad clouds from my heart
When she is angry my whole world falls apart
When she laughs, I begin to live again
I have love her each moment, each instance of my life
In each joy and sorrow her love shield close to my heart
I have celebrated each of her birthdays
Like the festival of Spring joyous
He sweet seventeenth year stand tall
In all her colors of life
She rules my heart as a sweet Queen
She strings our hearts like puppets.

I Want My Time Machine.

2011-03-04T16:50:00.000-08:00

I Want My Time Machine Now This Moment

I Want To Go Fast Forward

Flying Quietly Into New Galaxies

Landing Into Unexplored Spaces

Spaces Of Our Mortal Lives

Immortally

I Want To Be The New Alien

In The New Unexplored Universe

I Want To Touch The Stars

We Each One Float In Our Spaceships

Rotating, Vibrating,

Up And Down

Gyrating, Exploding

Dancing In Our Worlds

Our Worlds So Apart

Just Like The Time Spaced Galaxies

Each In its Own Time And Space

I Want My Time Machine Just So,

Just This Once

Just In This Lifetime

So That I Can Reach You In Future

Always, Forever

I Want To Reach Those Stars

Those Stars That Shine Bright In Your Eyes

Just In This Lifetime, Just This Once

I Want To Love You Eternally

With All The Galaxies And Exploding Stars Around Us

I Feel Your Love

In This Time

Eternally

Immortally

I Want My Time Machine

So That I Can Be With You Differently

Like A New Alien

Exciting

Enticing

New

Young

Exploring New Horizons

Each In Our Spaceships

Reaching Across The Universe

Touching Our Hands In Love

In Time And Space

Across Mortal Barriers

I Want My Time Machine

To Love You In Future And

In eternity, Forever.

Meherzaidi, The Poet.

A Sweet Lovers Quarrel.

2011-02-25T17:53:00.000-08:00

Drifting apart,

Like the few twigs that spread away

On a floating raft

A raft on a lazy lake

We spent our lovers' days and nights together

Lazing, loving and searching

Searching for the divinity in our mortal love

Searching for the eternity in our fleeting desires

Gripping at the hands, groping the love

Catching the moments in our passions warm and tender

Hoping , just hoping that all this will last a lifetime

Catching the drops of sweat falling sweetly, warmly over the softness of your earlobes and then your cheeks

Cheeks flushed with our lovemaking

Cheeks warm in our pleasures

Catching the sweet drops of sweat of our lovemaking with our tongues

Drinking the wine of love

We both clung to our parts of the floating raft

Our raft of life

Our raft of love

Life on this still lake of love was a dream

And now we are caught

In this lovers' quarrel

Each in his sphere of life

Clutching to our egos

Love is hiding there, somewhere

Beneath our bed's crumpled, heady smelling, sheets

Love is residing somewhere, there

In the sweet smelling corners of our bedroom

I feel the heady warmth sometimes

I feel it when you drink out of my cistern of love that is the fountain

I feel it when sometime you inadvertantly kiss my mouth in sweet pleasures of the body

I feel your love sometimes

I clutch at the feeling of love

I cling to your soul

Sometimes

In moments such as these

When our tongues meet

But then we drift apart

Like autumned leaves, like drifting twigs

On a still, still lake

A lake that looks peaceful and pristine

A lake that is cold and blue

A lake that is the beauty of the landscape

I still remeber the sweet love's first embrace

That you gave me on Saif ul Maluk

On the Majestic Malika Parbat

Where you held me and kissed me

I feel the warmth that engulfed my body, my soul

Even as my feet, though booted touched the icy cold waters of the water springs and the lake

I feel your kiss , even today

It keeps me going

Even as we quarrel

A lovers sweet quarrel

It keeps our love alive

That sweet kiss.

Picture taken by Meherzaidi, the poet.

Mera Khayal Pani Pani.. The glass wall of water.

2011-02-19T22:37:00.000-08:00

As the cool water of the pool touches me gently
As it laps gently across my chest, touching, caressing my heaving bosom
I think of you
I think of your sweet smile
I think of your sad big eyes
Tearful as I left
Your hands warm and loving across my face
Touching my warm cheeks
For the last time
As if preserving the memory
To never let it go
Never to let go of the love that has become like the strong, banyan tree
That stands firm in rainy storms,
Stands strong in the lightening thunderstorms
Stands strong in the shaky earthquakes
Stands strong between us on the grassy, green , green hilly expanse of our lives together
The evergreen expanse of our love, eternal

The rain falls across my window
Quietly, gently
Singing a rhythmic melody
Crescendo and then tinkling
Like the fairy tale bells that rung oh ever so sweetly as you held my hand
For the first time
I trembled
My body quivered
The sweet ecstasy of love shook my weak and frail heart
The stars exploded all around
I was a Princess in a moment of joy
You became my Prince.
The rain fell.

As my feet feel the cool sand of the beach
As the gently lapping waves of this beautiful Arabian Sea touch my weakening feet
I think of you
I raise my hand towards you
To touch you
I know you are raising yours too
This instance, this moment
To touch mine across the oceans, across the seas
Hands that touch like across a prison wall glass
Cold wall in between
Does not exist
It is gone
But the feelings of lovers warmth remain
Eternal, etched in stone
Across the cold , cold, steely glass wall
I feel your hand
Across the vast and blue, tempestuous water s of the oceans
I feel the warmth of your raised hand
I feel your love reaching out
To my body, heart and soul
I feel your love
As the gentle waves of the pool by the sea lap against my breasts
I feel thee, I love thee
My friend.

Our hands touch and the wall of glass falls splintered ,away
Our prisons of separate existence are set free
Yes we each one are prisoners in our mortal bodies
Our souls imprisoned in our existentialism
The existence of Id and ego
The existentialism of you and me
Inside our own prison walls
In the existential cage of our souls
And yet my heart reaches out
Gently, warmly
Across the seas
Across the oceans
To thee
Free, My thoughts fly
Free as bird
Across the ocean sky
Towards you
Across the seas
Across the oceans
Across the continents
Across the existential barriers
To reach out for love
To touch our imprisoned souls

Across this glass wall of water.

Meherzaidi, the poet.

Love's Sweet Endearments.

2011-02-18T16:46:00.000-08:00

Meher Zaidi, the poet.

As I feel the touch of thine strong fingers on my neck
Holding its nape in your hand
Gently caressing my hair silky in your grip
The love in my heart swells deep into my breath
The sweat of longing fills my bosom
The sweet desire of love's first bloom fills my heart

Oh, my beloved come near me and lie by my side
As I smell the sweet rain falling on the sand
The gentle droplets falling on my breasts
Accidentally.
I feel thine sweet love in my heart
A heart that is as pure and pristine as a pearl
Enclosed in a shell deep in a blue sea
Hidden, waiting, untouched
A heart that is as pure as the inside of the rose bud before it is opened
A heart that is untouched
Untouched by desire or lust
A heart that has just started living
A heart that is ear to your sweet endearments of love
My heart is turning towards you
Gently
As a dewdrop that touches the beloved's sweet lips first time in spring
As the tinkering sound of a bell in the morning
As a ray of sunshine when it touches a beauteous cheek
Or a teardrop that falls from the dark, dark eyes.

Come and lay by my side gently
Hold my hand in yours, warm and strong
Comfort me and promise me
That you will never leave me
That you will be my anchor
In life's tempestuous waters
Promise me that our love will stay forever
Above prejudice, mistrust and sorrow
Promise me that our love will live forever
Always till death do us part
That your sweet kisses will wipe away the tears
That your love's sweet endearments will wash away the sorrows
Sorrows that sometimes are our fate

Oh my beloved
I feel thine strong fingers on my cheek and hear your caressing voice
Knocking gently open the door
To my love's untold hidden pleasures
Pleasures that are way above the body
Pleasures that reach deep into our souls

As the rain falls first intensely and then gently
Like the tears in a beloved's eyes after a parting night
Parting that leaves unfulfilled the lovers' sweet desires
Parting that forces the forlorn kisses to be the fate
I feel for your strong hands on my face
Touching . caressing, finding my features
I feel your sweet, heady breath on my lips ever so closer
I can see that your closed eyes cannot see what I see
But the pounding of your heart sings to me a song
So sweet and full of love's sweet endearments
As your strong fingers curl and hold my hand
I hear your heart's passion rise
Like the crescendo sound of the rain falling
The sweet sweat of love breaks upon my brow
Drowning all my life's painful sorrows

My bosom fills with unfulfilled desires deep
Desirous of the longing for your kiss on my cheek
And sweet endearments and whispers in my ear
Of promises to be kept
Of love's eternal hold on my heart
Endearments that will stay forever
Till death do us part.

Karachi Kahani ...Love Is A Many Splendor Thing Or Is It?

2011-02-16T19:50:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time we thought love was a many splendor-ed thing. There was romance in it. There was joy and then of course there was sex in it. Sometimes hidden, sometimes fleeting. Sometimes obvious, intense, with passion. This was way before the age of advertisements, commercials, plastic hearts. Big red, plastic balloon hearts of the Valentine sort. The sort that have neither a cool , sexy, silky texture. The sort that neither have the sensuous , velvety touch to light your fire or inflame your passion. but the cold, unfeeling plasticized feel that throws cold water on your desires. Desires that sometime one tries to light up like the already dulled ashes on a cold winter morning. Stoking gently ,the icing hearth. finding some semblance of a small chingari. Or the quickly snatched kiss in a dark elevator while coming up and down in an I I Chundrigar office building. Maybe this may lead to a more passionate commitment. But then, now the elevator is always too crowded. No more the lonely moments or joyful encounters in the dark. Only one works in the entire ten floor building. One works sometimes, the third one always out of order. Just like our characters in life, these elevators in Karachi. Love has also become dull, imaginary and plasticized,Valentinized. Snatching it away from a 9-5 moment. Finding it in a very tired weekend night. Saturdays have become synonymous with the much awaited relief from the urban jungled, fast paced I I Chundrigar cage. Well sort of .A quivering anticipated wait to find the moments of love. Away from the mediocre cold , cold existence of an urban existence. A hot passionate embrace, a soft full mouthed kiss. Maybe sometimes the fragrant touch of my beloved's dopatta pallu on my face for a fleeting while. And the dreams live on. The dreams of love as a many splendor thing . Love with romance that is now dying . Thanks to the ugly dance moves of the reddened Indian movies.Love with passion that now comes with cheap, quickly snatched urges. Thanks to the vulgar almost non-lyrical songs blaring out from our China made MP4s.
Love as a many splendor thing that was once the forte to be written by Lord Byron.

Ehsaas..Tere Wajood Ka Lams: Your existence ,my feelings.

2011-02-11T06:03:00.000-08:00

Mein ne tujh ko mehsus kiya hai kaise kaise
Kabhi ungliyon ki poron se shuru hoker halke halke
Ek dile dereena ki khwahish ho ataktee jaise
Ek halqoom e girifta ki dabi cheekh ho atkee, atkee
Ek mere aankh ka moti ho jo tara tara
Kabhi behta, kabhi atka, sulagta, bujhta
Kabhi palkon ki sajawat ka woh moti banta
Aik anmol sa heera kabhi jalta, bujhta
Mein ne mahsoos kiya hai tujhe kaiose kaise

Tera yeh karbe judai jo na tha itna shadeed
Jab mere jism ka hua tha pehla ehsaas
Meri aankhon ke sitare the woh roshan roshan
Aur mere paon ke paayal he the bin payal cham cham
Mere sar par the woh phoolon ke mehekte huay taaj
Joh har ek dosheeza-e nau ki karte hain wajood ki nau
Aur the sab range baharan uththe roshan
Ab woh ek khwab ki tarha hai hewla manind
Jaise hon Sadequain ke kanton bhara pehne huaiy taaj
Ab woh garmee-e ehsaas hai thandi, thandi
Aur yeh karb mere dil ka haiy jalta bujhta
Jaise ho jai ek haseen sham ke baad
Saahile darya pe rakhee huwee woh aag ki raakh
Joh eik haseen sham ki naghmageen geeton ke hujoom
Mein guzaree ho doston ne shauq ke saath
Jehan goonje hon naghmae sartab buland
Aur ek misle jashn hum hon naachte haste
Ek teri aankh ka ho jam-e khumaar behka behka
Aur mere dil ki ho sachayee bhi behki behki
Kaheen roshan hon kuch khwaab halke halke
Kaheen ehd-o -paimaan hon thaamte huey haath
Aur tere gaal pe woh cherta, hansta hua til
Mere dil ko gudguda ke tharakta hua jaise
Woh jawanee ki umang
Woh jeevan ki uthaan
Ab tau ek hewla-e yaad-e rafta hain bane
Isee sahil pe men ab bhi teheltee hoo akaile akaile
Aur yeh paoon hain jab bhi is reti pe hain parte udhte
Mere ehsaas ka woh halka sa karb hai ubharta jaise
Joh tha jaagta, josh marta mere dil ke ander
Eik jawan khuwahishe tauqeer thi dil ke andar
Garm joshee-e hayat mein tha har pal masroor
Aur thi jolaniye tabyat bhi bhari har dam
Kabhi aise kabhi waise
Yuheen harsoo hardam
Saare the khwab nikalte hanste gaate
Tere un lab kusha jalwon se pare
Teree ungleeon ki poron se kuch aage aage
Mere us wajood ki ek tasweer banate the woh rangeen roshan
Mein tera ehsaas kartee thi palkon se zaroor
Tera woh cherdh ke jaana hai mujhe yaad abhi
Goke woh ehsaas hai madham abhi aur door
Wohee lamhe joh the aag alao dehkate
Dil-e bechen se paon talak mehkaate
Yehi the ek gawahee tere wajood ki gawahee dete
Aur baaqi tha mera ehsaas unke tufail

Ab jab bhi mein chaltee hun saahil ke kinare kinare
Aur mere boseeda se paon pardhte hain geelee reit pe
Tera ehsaas mujhe karta zinda
Tera ehsaas dilaata hai mujhe
Apne wajood ki sachayee ka ek lamha-e zauq.

Translation:

Oh how I have felt thine sweet touch
From the beginning of my fingers
Gently , caressingly
Like a rare heart's desire
Like a soft scream
Waiting to be set free
Like a pearly teardrop of my eye
Shining like a star
Sometimes flowing, sometimes held back
Simmering , burning
Sometimes like a pearl necklace on my lashes
Like a precious diamond Alight or hidden
Oh how I have felt thine sweet touch.

The pain of your separation was not so intense before
Whence the reality of my body's feeling had dawned
Oh how my eyes were shining bright
Like stars in heaven
And the sweet melody was coming from my anklet
Even without adorning it
My head adorned with fragrant flowers crowned
Like a virgins sweet first bloom
The spring's color were aplenty, abound
All that is but a dream now
Like a shadow of a dream lost
Like the thorn crown adorned head
Of Sadequain
That warm feeling is cold as ice
My heart's light is low and flickering
As quiet as a dark night's spent ashes on the beach
Those that after a night's songful festival abound
Spent in the beloved's arms
Where lovers danced in rapturous embrace
Drinking the sweet heady wine off the beloved's eyes and lips
My heart was full of love's sweet heady trance
Like dreams awakening in love's warm desire
Where the vows of love taken with holding hands
I was smitten by the mole on your sweet cheek
That teased my heart with joy and pleasure
Ah that was the youth's warm desire
Rising, promising
But now it is but a fading distant dream

I stroll gently on the same beach
These worn out feet tread the sand
The feeling of longing rises in my heart
That which is simmering , smoldering
Like a a young heart's desire to be loved
Life was whence pregnant happily with the warm desires
Sometimes hence, sometimes whence
All the dreams danced singing happily
Sometimes hence, sometimes whence
Sometimes here, sometimes there
Away from your astounding beauty
Away from the sensitive tips of your fingers too

They painted a picture bright and shining
Of my existence, those moments of desire
I felt you with the lashes of my eyes
I remember your loving teasing
Though that feeling is dull and far away now
Those were the moments of burning fire
From my restless heart to my feet
Fragrant with love's warm desires
Those were the moments that witnessed
My existence
Those were the moments of truth.

Now as I stroll along this beach
My worn out feet feeling the cold sand underneath
Your desire makes me alive
Your desire gives me that moment of truth
That precious moment of my existence.

Sanglaakh Basti...Pakistan.

2011-01-04T07:33:00.000-08:00

AAH, Yeh zakhm mere paun ke
Kiya poochta hai aye humsafar
Aah, yeh kante mere haathon ke
Kiya dekhta hai aye humsfar
Woh bhi kiya din the mein tha zarreen
Woh bhi kiya lamhe the sukoon se pur
Yuheen jab shakhein thee haree har shajer ki
Yuheen thi jab sajee har rahguzar
Dasht jab dasht the is sheher se hatt kar bethey
Jabal jab the buland saron se buland tar
Aur panchee the urdte aasman ki oat
Bila jhijhak, bila khatar
Koyee sayyad na tha un ka lutera, kafir
Koyee qaatil na tha is qadar bebak, idhar
Tha yeh qafla-e dil chalna shuru halke, halke
Sarey the log musafir dar-e dard wa dilbar
Hum ne socha tha ke yuhein qaid-e ulfat ka safar
Hum karein ge poora, sachaee ki chadar ordhe

Aur yeh khwab azaim huwe kirchee, kirchee
Gir ke tukre huwa jab pyar ka woh jam-e khumaar
Jab gira dil pe woh laasha mere Qaid ka
Jis ka Mukka tha alamat mere azaad sifat logon ka
Us hi din ho gaya khoon- e jigar mera naseeb
Aur phir lag gaya ambar yuheen lashon ka
Yeh chmakta hua, lamayin gulshan huwa khoon faraz
Mere sajde huwe khoonen aur khoon khoon meri namaz
Saari lashon ki saardhi, boo thi bikhree har soo
Kabhi Bhutto mein, kabhi Bibi mein aur kabhi mein, tu
Mere bache huwe nehlai huwe ba kafan har soo
Mere laashe huwe pur mehak-e kaafoor har soo
Yeh jo ujla sa tha gulshan yeh weeran huwa
Dasht to dasht na raha, shehr mein zum huwa
Mere khwabon ka nagar aaj hai weeran , ujra
Ab mein mazloom ki awaaz se bhi moon pher chalaa
Jaan bachana hi mera ab ek shwaar hua

Par yahaan aaj bhi woh jiyalai hein
Jo dil o jaan ki baazi lagane se naheen sharmate
Aur eik aisee baat ab bhi kar jaate hain
Jis se ban jaate hein woh la qabile faramosh naqash

Haan tu behez kar ke woh kafir hai ke shaheed
Mein tau janoon hoon ke woh haansta, khilandra larka
Jis ki kisi baat pe aata tha bhi mujh ko ghussa
Apne wafa-e shauq ke sachey reh par
Kar gaya hamesha ke liye yeh paya silsil likha
Tu mujhe aik bulbula-e mehmal na samajh
Mein hun Yaqoot, tere dil pe musalsal pairan

Ab kabhi jab Lahore mein patange gi urdeen
Us ka hasta huwa chehra hoga
Aur aik azm, aik such ki faseel
Mere is naantawan dil ko dete hogee dharas
Tu yuheen na giri, sarbakaf aye aazadi
Tere thai zinda dilaan laash uthane wale
The tere sarbakaf, sarfarosh jiyale
Jo tere is laaghir, naantawan jism ko uthaye huwe sargardan

Be khater, bekhauf hein larte teri rahoon mein hamesh
Aisey bamrd log ke jin se tu ab tak qaem
Shayad hein abhi kam par hein woh baaqi zaroor.

TRANSLATION:
Aah, do not look at these sored feet
Aah do not look at these sored hands
Those were the days when
These pathways were shining and free
Green were my vales and free were my moments
Of love and truth.
The mountains were tall and majestic
The cities were lit and happy
The journey of love had just started
We had vouched for reaching our destiny
With courage and truth
The bird of freedom flew high in the sky.

But this dream was shattered so soon
This eternal drink was blown to pieces
The leader who was the symbol of freedom
Fell down dead in front of us
The leader whose fist gave us strength unbound
To face the hurdles and weather storms
When our journey as a young nation had started
Then this mound of fallen soldiers
Increases day by day, hour by hour
All around are the corpses fallen
Sometimes in worship, always in love
The smell of incense numbs my deadened senses
The Brightly lit cities are dark with death
All my dreams are shattered
I look away even from injustice being done
Selfish, trying to save my own life I have become
A dead soul, a dead corpse
But that soul which laughed and made me angry sometimes
Has in his bold death shown the resolve
That there is still hope for our wretched nation
As long as there is heroes like Bhutto, Benazir and Taseer.

And now whenever there will be Basant in Lahore
This face of a jiyala will be remembered always
Whose brave stance in this selfish , killer land
Even in these wretched, ugly times
For a married, Christian, woman
Poor and accused, was so heroic and bold
Death did not make him meek
He stood for what he believed
His death shows that his enemies are defeated
Their faces blackened with injustice and haterd
And when the day of judgement arrives
His will be the victory, glorious and true
God will ask of those who killed at will
Why did thoust kill this man
The killers will pray that they were buried in sand.

(This poem is written as Salman Taseer's body awaits buriel. He was a brave man who stood for his principles which were freedom of speech, human dignity, democracy. His political party was the Pakistan Peoples Party, for which he always worked bravely.He opposed the decision of a lower court for hanging a Christian lady, married with five children, accused circumstantially by Muslim women in a town in Pakistani Punjab, vouching to save her and get the presidential pardon. This was no blasphemy law or the seal of the Prophet of Islam being the last prophet disrespect. It was a citizen's right to contest for which he was killed. This is a black day for the history of justice and rights of non-muslim people in Pakistan. This shows the cancer of intolerance and bigotry has spread deep in Pakistan polity which pretends to be Muslim.)

Karachi..A Vampire City.

2010-10-20T15:41:00.000-07:00

A city of beaches, blue skies and eagles
Soft flute, snake charmers and parks
A city of kebabs, juices and bottles
A city with discotheques, nightclubs and bars
Such was a city that was named Karachi
A city of dances and romances
A city of hotels and cabanas
A city of whiskey and beer
A city where lovers went to matinee
A city where minstrels sang
A city where in the lane behind Radio Pakistan
The artists and musicians hanged
Such was a colorful city named Karachi
The skies above were blue and clear
There were always people laughing far and near
The damsels showed off their long tresses and navels
Beach Luxury, Palace Hotel and Intercontinental
Such was the gem of a city called Karachi
I was five with roller skates on
A tall glass of Coke in hand on main Shahrahe Faisal
No traffic
Fun and skating
This was Karachi a city of fun
There was Eid namaz in Polo ground
There was Jinnah parade on Bunder Road
Such was the friendly city of Karachi
There were Parsis, Marathis, Sindhis, and Pathans
There were Muhajirs, Punjabis and Bengalis
There were Americans , British and Chinese
And we all lived together
In this city named Karachi

And now the skies are red with blood
The ground black with hatred
The average man is slave to fear
The child bereft of laughter
O, what has happened to this beautiful city
This city named Karachi
It has become the city of vampires
Living off the blood and death of its inhabitants
The snakes and serpents abound
Hiding, killing, spreading fear
O why has this city become the city of Vampires
This city that was loved named Karachi.

Karachi Kahani..Kut Putli, Kala Naag Aur Pehl Dooge!

2010-10-18T02:13:00.000-07:00

A Short Story In Urdinglish
By Meherzaidi.

Life was a stage in Nazimabad number Chaar, Do, Aik or Teen or even Lalukhet, Teen Hatti, Clifton, Keemari, Federal B Area or Airport. A Shakesparean stage or to put it Indianly an Agha Hahsarian stage. This was way back in Karachi in the fifties and sixties when Ghalib or to be more precise Aatish or to be gender precise Noor Jehan jawaan thee. My childhood was a dream, a play, a dance. A dream like the Shakesparean Midsummer Night's Dream. Here all the other children were characters, Munni, Bubbly, Salma, Shahid, Tariq etcetera, etcetera. They still stand firm, playing their memorable roles, clearly etched in my memory with their Shararast and various mischiefs. Stuck in their places like Shakesparean characters. The highlight of our monthly fun was the Kut Putli Tamasha. This would be announced with fanfare in my mom's montessori school and almost all Nazimabad Numbers and Lalukhet children would come, invited or uninvited. Like a Mela. The amazingly entertaining and vocal puppets or Kat Putlis will start moving, vibrating and talking in strange C-minored tones. "Arrrrreyy Kia haal hai? " "Asssaam Alaiiikumm"! sometimes we would get scared but then we had to hide the excitement, slurrping on the Kulfis that we cherished licking. The Kulfis would be fattened according to price . Chaar anney ki patley aur Aath aaney ki motey. And there was mango flavor too. Electricity was not important in our childhood days in sixties. Summer, playing and shows were. Only Pir Pagara's house had Air conditioners, twenty rooms, jhoolaas, huge drawing room, exquisite dining room and bathrooms with tubs in all of Karachi. His kids were also my friends but that world was full of dolls, velvet bows, hairbands from England, movies at the drive-in-cinema and frequent horse riding, skating and visits to Clifton beach. And of course journeys to areas around Nazimabad.
But the real fun was the Kut Putli Tamasha. All I can remember is the intense excitement of watching the show. I can neither remember the dialogues, nor the characters. Then there was the Kaal Naag snake show. The snake charmer was a strange man. He was neither dangerous nor harmful. He was always an epitome of mystery. When he came and the sound of his Been floated in our ears , we would run outside in the galli to welcome him. He would settle his wicker pits which contained various sizes of snakes and partially remove the lids to give us a peek of the black, brown, slimy, writhing creatures as if to whet our appetites for the real Kaala Naag show. Amazingly our parents would send us money to give him willingly. After much pre-show he would open the big Pitari and take out the Kaala Naag. Ah, the majesty, the charm of the Kaala Naag as he would sit and look around. His handsome, sharp forked tongue flickering out, his head high and aloft, he would look at us. We would stare at him fascinatingly, our little hearts full of fear yet endearing excitement of adventure. This strange feeling stayed with me even as an adult. On a Shikaar journey in Sindh jungle I almost ran towards a handsome Kaala Naag sitting on a bund when a deft shikaari helper beheaded him in an instant with a hatchet to save my life. Such are the fantasies and loves of the childhood. Pure, pristine, platonic.
The Been would chant strange songs, mesmerizing us. The Kaala Naag would swerve its head and the dance would begin.
The games that we played were simple too. Pehle Dooge or hop skip. A chalk design would be made on simple cemented floor. 1, 2, 3 and some more chambers. The game would begin. Cotton frocks, rubber chappals, joyous screams and sometimes Katti. Katti was a way where we showed our little fingers to express our disdain, disagreement or sheer anger. Our little faces would grimace to match our feelings. Eyebrows in a frown. Lips in a pucker,. Sometime a teardrop or two. Then there would be the caressing ,loving Duppatta ka Pallu to dry our precious tears by a mom, an aya or an apa.Life would be simple and safe.
The snake charmer would try to make a fast buck by selling his Magical Saanp Ka Manka to gullible ladies as a potion which will change life, bring lovers in your feet and sometimes make you a millionaire.
As I still long for the snake charmer's Been on the Clifton beach which have strangely disappeared from Karachi, I think that modern life has been made complicated and consumerist by us, ourselves. The snake charmer is still there in Sindh, the beens are there, the reed baskets are there. It is only we who have become boring and artificial in Karachi.

Snake charmer picture courtesy Jan Khaskheli.

DARD JA SINDHU SAGAR...THE INDUS POEM.

2010-09-24T12:33:00.000-07:00

Dard Ka Sindhu Sagar

Bhook ,nang, aflaas mein beh kar
Marui je moti lekar
paak, mithaal
aankh se tapka
dard ka Sindhu Sagar

Tinke, chhappar, behte, girte
mera aik gharonda
sada jeevey Sindh mein
dukhta, rista
zakhmee panch, pakheroo
peep se behta
mera panja
pakrde hai kuch kante
shayad bach kar pankh bakhere
dard ja Sindhu sagar

Sacchal saeen, Lateef saeen
mere man ke raja
un ki aankh se tapka jaey
dard ka Sindhu Sagar

Yeh diwanee, faqeer nimaanee
mehru, devi Hingol
mein us ki chashme nam mein basta, rachta
dard ka Sindhu Sagar

Yeh paagal jogi jabal mein phitrta
meree hee maala japta
behta mera sailaabi rela
budta saree khalqat

utraa hun mein ab ke
Sehwan se Manchar
Dard ka Sindhu Sagar

Translation:
Oh, how the floods have passed
From the hunger, poverty ridden
sweet pearl of Marvi's pure and chaste body
Pure sweet emotions become the teardrop
of the woeful Sindhu Sagar.

Meherzaidi, the poet.

My hearse is swept away
That which was made of straw and falling reeds only
Always in Jeay Sindh
Painful, bleeding open sore
My claw
I am but a wounded bird, my sore claw holding
Some splinters,some thorns
Hopefully it may be saved
and spread it's wings
This the woeful Sindhu Sagar

Sacchal Saeen, Lateef Saeen
The rulers of my heart
Fallen like a teardrop
This the woeful Sindhu Sagar

This fakir like wretched crazy woman
Mehru Devi of Hingol
I dwell thus in her parched eyes
Eternally
me, the woeful Sindhu Sagar

And this 'Jogi' wanders in the mountains of 'love'
chanting my love songs always
flows my flooded body
thrashing the humanity
I thus destroy from Manchar to Sehwan, again
I, the woeful Sindhu Sagar.

(I have used words like Sindhu which is the name of Indus river in the Sindhi language,Marvi was a pure and chaste heroine of Sindhi folklore, Sagar is a hindi word for water body that is flowing like a river, jogi is a wandering minstrel or a saint who has left worldly ways, Manchar is a lake in Sindh that is now reflooding, Sehwan is a town where the great poet and Sufi saint Sacchal Sarmast resides eternally. Lateef Saeen is Shah abdul Lateef Bhittai, one of the greatest Sufi saints and poets of Sindh. his poetry is incomparable in spiritual richness and linguistic beauty of expression.)

Reaching Out.

2010-07-16T01:28:00.000-07:00

Shah Faisal Mosque, Islamabad.

Khuda Aur Us Ki Bandi

A poem by Meherzaidi.

Aur tu samajhta hai ke mein ne chor diya hai us ko tanha kaise?

Naheen,
Who jo aik laghar si hai boorhi si tanha aurat
Laitee hai, simtee hai, kuch cheetrey phailaaye

Taktee hai tujh ko, mujh ko apnee pathraaee huwee benoor si aankhon se

Woh jo ek laghar si, boseeda si, pasmanda aurat

Basti hai, sisakti hai, Jinnah aspatal ke peek zada footpath ke paas

Mein jo Kulle Makan hoon, apni muthee mein dono jahan ki saari basaat liye
Us ki be jaan si, sisaktee hui siskee suntan hun

Us ki tasbeeh peh hoon Qaim, apni Shaan liye!
“Subhan Allah”
Aur yeh sach hai ke Qaim yuheen azal ta abad
Aur mein us ki sheh rag se bhi qareeb
Qaim, Daa’em
Azal ta abad

Jab who taktee hai musalsal ek tiktakee bandhe
Mein us kee sheh rag se bhi qareeb hoon us ke
Jab who taktee hai tiktakee bandhe

Aur tu kiyun us ki jaan naheen lota deta?
Aur us ki baste huwee khotee huwee zindagi
Us peek zada foot path ke saaye, saaye
Woh to sach’chi hai kehtee hai jo
“Subhan Allah”
Aur Mein hota hoon us ki sheh rag se bhi qareeb uskey
Qaim, daa’em
Azal ta abad
Apni saaree khudai ki tamaam shaan liye!

Translation

God and His worshipper woman

Do you think that I have left her all alone yet?
Nay, Not that old, wretched lonely woman
Who lies on the torn shreds of cloth
Alone on the ‘paan’ spit stained footpath
Of the Jinnah hospital.
Who stares with her eyes un-enlightened,
Blind eyes at you and Me
Me, who is everywhere
Me, who has both the worlds in the palm of His hands

I listen to her weak, lamenting cries
I am existent on her repetitive rosary
With my Majestic Presence
When she says “ Subhan Allah”

And this the Truth,
That I exist
From before the beginning to eternity
I am there close to her
Even closer than her aorta
Always present!
Especially when she stares continuously
I am there close to her
Even closer than her aorta

And why do not you return back to her, her life?
Her happy, her sad life
Near the’paan’ stained footpath
She speaks the Eternal Truth
When she says “Subhan Allah”

I am always there, present,
Closer to her than her own aorta
Always Present
Always There
In all my Godly Majesty!

My Rejected Body, Your Rejected Soul!

2010-06-29T16:31:00.000-07:00

Meherzaidi, the poet.

Mere Is Jism Ke Peechey
Aik Rooh Bhi Hai
Aye farsooda insaan, kiya Usey dekh Pao ge?
Mere is Tilism ke peechey
Aik Wujood bhi hai
Kiya usey dekh pao ge
Aye murda Shaitaan?

Haan yeh tumhare zulm-o-jabr
Wehshiana Raqse Besehar
Barjamane mehfil-e Meh -wa-shar
Abhi aur sahee, par ab naheen
Ab Aagayee hai woh Khabar
Ke bas Huwee Umeed-e-Sehr
Ayaan, Zofishan
Ba kull-o -Makaan
Uthaa hai hisaab ba mahshar
Tera wujood ab Hil gaya
Aye zanjeer-e-Rizwan-pa, Shar
Dey hisaab, Dey jawaab
Tere wajood ki azmaaish ki gharhi guzar gayee
Aye Sharri insaan
Ab Chal, abla pa, nang sar,
Tu nahin hai qabile rahm
Apne Khuda ke Huzoor
Wohi Khuda jo sab ka hai
Teri ghari guzar gayee
Ab faisla bhi ho gaya
Yeh Zulum ab khatam hua
Teri gharee guzar gayee
Kiya tu ne socha na tha?
Ye aazmaish-e- jism wa -Jaan
Yuheen nahi hai ham par ayaan
Bas ab na ro, bas ab na dhoondh
Tera raasta bhi band hua
Woh jo zindagi mein ayaan bhi tha
Tera zulm jab fashan bhi tha
Tu to mard tha, khuda bana
Akar, akar ke chalta tha
Aur deewaar mein chunta tha
Mera yeh wujood-e-zarfishan
Tu to mard tha , khuda bana
Bas ab Faisla tau ho chuka
Tera Maqbara tau ban gaya
Tera zulm hai tau likha huwa
Woh waqt gaya, woh waqt gaya
Ke tu bhi hota maa'fi ka haqdar
Ab woh waqt gaya
Bas ab chal Suwe Daar
Tere jurm hain ab beshumar
Aur naheen hai ab
Rahe Tauba Khulee

Aye marde-kul, bujha huwa
hai woh diya
Joh jala tha Umeed-e-roshan liye
Ke shayad tu hota sarbakaf
Ba Rahe Taqwa!

Translation :

Can your old, prejudiced eyes see
The soul behind my body?
Can you see clearly
O, corpsed Satan
My existence behind this adorned, magical facade?

Oh yes, you may continue
Your tyrannical savage dance
Imposed in the evil "Mehfil"
But no, not now
Now the news has come
The light of Dawn breaks
All over the universe
A light of Hope!
The apocalypse has arrived
The day of judgement is here
Now shakes the existence of your bieng
That whose feet are now shackled
By the Guardian 'Rizwaan'
Angel of the Heavens
Because of your evil dance.
Give account!
Give an answer!
Passed is the moment of Redemption
O, evil man
Now walk with blistered feet,
Bare -headed in scorching heat
You are forsaken
No mercy.
Present yourself before God
Who is the God of everyone
Your moment of redemption has passed
The judgement is given
Your tyranny has ended
Did you not think before?
Of this exam of body and soul?
Was not in vain!

Do not shed tears now
Do not seek forgiveness
Its late
Your path is sealed
That path which was lightened in your life
When your tyranny was evident
You were a man , pretending to be god
You walked in false pride
And you forsaked me in a brick wall.
You were a man, pretending to be god

Now the judgement is given
Your grave dug
Your tombstone written
Engraved with an obituary
Of tyranny that was your forte.
The time has passed
That time has passed
That you would have been redeemed
Now walk the Cross
Your sins many, uncountable
The path to redemption closed
O, all male
Extinguished is th 'Diya' that burnt bright
With a hope
That you may be ' Sarbakaf'
In the path of fear of God.

"Diya" means oil lamp, "sarbakaf" means ready to die from fear of God that is "Taqwa", "Rizwaan" is guardian angel of heaven. I have included metaphors as references , for example in the story of 'Anarkali" an Indian servant girl with whom the Prince Saleem, son of Emperor Akbar was put inside the brick wall alive as was custom of punishment in olden India. The fear of God in Islam is known as "Taqwa" out of which man has to do justice and refrain from injustice.
"Mehfil " is the party.
I have written this poem in honour of all the women, children and men and others who have died unsung, unredeemed by us cruel people , who have been hanged, brick layered, murdered , killed , burnt and maimed in the name of honour, in the name of not bearing a male child, in the name of studying and educating, of all the NGO workers especially drivers and poor men and women who were killed by terrorists recently for carrying out their duties to help poor Pakistanis improve their lives, in health and educating. My list will go on and on. There is only hope for people who believe in God that the fear of God may forsake them from injustice , from Karo Kari and other honour killings, from rape and violence and child abuse, from giving unfair treatment to the poor, infirm and the needy. The list goes on and on.

Broken Heart, Shattered Dreams!

2010-06-28T12:47:00.000-07:00

My heart is shattered into a thousand splinters
Each splinter sharper than a diamond razor
My life is spread like a splintered crystal goblet
Like pearls of dreams, splintered, shattered
My bleeding feet burn numb into my journey
of fires raging , with hatred and curse
My heart is shattered into a thousand splinters
Each splinter sharper than the sharpest "Khanjar"
I walk this thorne laden path alone,
I weep incessantly
Yet my screams fall on deaf ears
false values, fake smiles, broken promises
And then the world is only a make believe
We think we are "normal" ? O you male and female?
Do we not have to find a living, snatch a respectable life?
Then why this prejudice and false pretension
Always, everywhere love is pure
Pure like a mountain spring
falling, sparkling,
Nurturing, benefitting all who care
And yet there is silence and hate and prejudice
My broken heart and a thousand splinters shattered!

Dil Darwaza Aur Singhar...Heart Door and Vanity!

2010-06-08T03:10:00.000-07:00

Aur jab us ne dil darwaza kharkhaya
Woh hone lagi tayyar, karne lagi singhar
Aankh ka kaajal,
Paon ki payal
Haath ki mehndi
Kaan ki baali
Dene lagi gawahee
Surkh labon ki Muskan
Zulfun ka haijan
Uth,tha girta aanchal
Machane laga ek shorish zada halchal
Woh gaal ka til bhi bol raha hai
Ek uljhan zada daastan

Kabhi hanstee thee, kabhi rotee thi
Kabhi jaagti thee , kabhi sotee thi
Aur har lamha sochtee rehtee thi
Aaye ga woh is ko sab kehne
Aur kare gee woh bhi iqraar
Yunhee jaari tha intezar
Har lamha har pal tha beqarar
Thee us ke gulshan mein ajab si bahar
Pur umeed , pur waqar

Aur phir woh kabhee na aya!
Shayad woh bhool gaya
ke karti thi woh uska intezar!

Woh saare khat jo arsaal huey the
Woh saare parche phaar diye
Kuch roshan daan se phaink diye
Kuch angeethee mein dagh diye

Sab surma daani , hont ki laali
Sab choori mehndi,
Sab paoon ki payal
Sab pethi mein hain bandh diye.
Sab dafan huey hain
ek heuwla ban kar!

Ab jab bhi sawan aata hai
Aur papeeha shor machata hai
Ek baarish dil par girtee hai
Har boondh hai bojhal zakhmon se
Har soo ek gehra saya hai
Aur cheekh raha hai sannata
Khamosh hai payal
Gum sum hai bahaar.
Aur band hai dil ka darwaza
Weeran hai piyar ka suna mandir
Hain Umeed ke saye jaala jaala
Jape hai woh bas ek dukh ki maala
Jogan jogan, Raanjha Raanjha
Bhool gayee hai woh Sohni, Heer
Ban ke Sassui, ban ke Shireen
Kitne sawan beet chuke hain
Jab Khula tha dil ka darwaza!

English Translation:

He knocked the door to her heart
She started adorning.
Kohl in her eyes, Anklet in her feet,
Henna in her hands
Earrings bejewelled.
Spoke thus
The sweet smile on her pink lips
The movement of her tresses
Her falling, moving scarf
Evidence of storm ridden torment
Thus speaks the the mole on the cheek
Of the hidden torment!

She laughed and she cried
She lay awake and slept sometimes
And all the while she thought
That he would come to express his love
And that she would acknowledge
her sweet passion
Thus continued her wait
Each moment a torment, a tempest.
So was her heart's garden in bloom
In a stange elegant anticipation.

But he never came.
Maybe he forgot that she waited.
And all the letters were torn to pieces.
Some thrown out of the ventilator
Some burnt in the chimney.
All kohl container,lip stainer,
All bangles, henna,
All anklet, earrings
Put away in the box.
All buried like ghostly apparitions

And now when the rains arrive
and the Robin tweets endlessly
The rain falls in her heart
each drop heavy with eternal sadness
All around is endless darkness
And screams the eternal silence
Quiet is the anklet,
Silent , the spring.
Closed is her heart's door.
Empty, abandoned
her heart's unadorned mandir.
Her hopes like spider webs
She "japaays" her "dukh maala".
She's the gypsy of love like "Raanjha"
She has forgotten that she is
"Sohni" , "Heer".
She is like "Sasui", "Shireen".
She has forgotten the endless rain seasons that have passed
Since the heart's door was open to love.

Bougainvilla Dreams.

2010-05-13T09:20:00.000-07:00

Bougainvilla dreams.

Hey, friend

I am neither the dreaded gang or some unfaithful, old woman

I am just Me

A girl who wants to be helpful,

A girl who is simple and straight forward.

I cannot but feel angry

At the strange, mistrustful behaviour

At the calculating, unfriendly eyes

I hate it when you mistrust me

I am simply sincere and loving in my nature

Hey, guy, how are you mistrusting me

And turning your face away

I feel hurt

And I dont care if you are a man, a woman, or simply a person

If you dont care about me

But then I do care

Because I am

Sincere

I am not like the old calculating, double faced women that your very artificial world has aplenty

I am not uncaring

I hate it when in your thoughts you put me on the same level

I hate it, I hate it, I do hate it!

But then why should you care

You have only known me a fleeting moment

Dear,dear friend

Why should you care

In your cold and cold world

Why would there be a place for me

A simple, sincere friend!

A world where your heart cannot be open

A world where conspiracies abound

A world where false pretensions rule.

A world of hate and connivances

A world of treacherous deals

A world of dangerous liasons

A world of death and deciept

I simply cannot function

In such an atmosphere

In such a contaminated environment

I will choke and die simply

Because I am like a bird

I am the bird

That flies and chirps and tweets in my own backyard garden

Free, untainted,

Hopping from bough to bough

Singing from branch to branch

Happy, innocent,

Loving you always

In my bougainvilla dreams!

The poet Meherzaidi.

Sabz Shamein Kidhar Gayeen?

2010-05-12T05:35:00.000-07:00

Woh sabz shamein kidhar gayeen hain
Woh zard subhein bikhar gayeen hain
Yeh kaali ratein sulag raheen hain
Tere hi kajal ke dhundhlakon mein
Yeh shehre yaran bujha huwa hai
Yuheen bhatakta chal raha hai
Yeh qafla-e-sarfaroshan halke halke
Woh sabz shamein kidhar gayeen
Jehan tu aur mein bethte the
Sehan mein kursiyaan lagake
Woh ek khushboodar poda
Rakha huwa tha, ajab tarhe se
Hamaree batein sun raha ho jaise
Hamaree batein, giley naheen the
Na shikwa-e-naalan
Woh zindagi ka aghaaz ho raha tha
Haseen -o hairan
Muhabbaton ka safar shuru hua tha
Woh hanste chehre damak rahe the
Muhabbaton ka safar shuru hua tha
Ajeeb meetha meetha nasha hua tha
Fareb deta, ghazab ka saaqi
Keh us ki aankho ki mey me behta
Muhabatton ka safar shuru hua tha
Woh mehki shamein
Sulag raheen theen
Muhabatton ka khumar lekar
Woh zard subhein kidhar gayeen
Ke jin ke aanchal mein ham the baithe
Samandaron ka hisaar lekar
Tere us aanchal ki purkashish si bahar lekar
Samandaron ka hisaar lekar
Woh sabz shamein, woh zard subhein
Chalee gayee hein.
Aur ab hain baithe yahan wahan par
Udaas, shabnami wadiyon mein
Bujhe, sulegte diyon ke saaye
Khamosh subhein, sulagte saye
Gali ki weeran seerhiyon par
Ummad rahe hain, sulag rahe hain
Tera, mera gham bhula rahe hain
Yeh jaam-e- surmageen ba khanjar
Dehek rahe hain, sulag rahe hein
Woh tere gham bhi
Woh mere gham bhi
Udaas shamein
Udaas chehre
Tu ab mera paas aa ke bethe
Yehee hai hasrat, yahee dua hai
Bas eik pal ke lamas ki pooja
Inteha hai,ibtida hai
Woh sabz shamein kidhar gayeen hain
Woh zard subhain bikhar gayeen hain.

Translation:

Where have the twilight evenings gone?

O, where have the twilight evenings gone
O, where have dispersed the yellow mornings?
These dark nights, o, how they smoulder;
In the misty darkness of thine kohl-blackened eyes.

This city of loved ones
O, how it smoulders, fading,
Wandering aimlessly
This caravan of the martyrs of love
Slowly, slowly moves.

O, where have the twilight evenings gone
Whence you and I sat quietly
On the porch
On chairs that faced each other.
And that beautiful plant
Placed strangely besides us
As if listening to our conversation
Our conversations were not laments
Neither forlorn complaints
It was the beginning of our lives' journey
Beautiful with anticipatory promises
Love's journey starting anew

Our faces shining in love's bright glow
Love's journey starting anew
Those sweet scented evenings
Smouldering, simmering
Enlaced with love's heady potion.

O, where have the yellow mornings gone
In whose shade we sat
Between the enclosure of the seas
The spring of your scarve's blooming shade
between the enclosure of the seas
Those twilight evenings, those yellow mornings
They have gone!

And now we sit here and there
Sadly in dew-drenched valleys
Under the extinguishing, smouldering lamp lights' shades
Quiet mornings, smouldering shadows
On the abandoned stairs of the alley
Engulfing us, smouldering us
Making your sorrows go away
Making mine sorrows go away
These pegs of love's sweet wine
Deceptively heady
But with a hidden sword's edge
Burning, smouldering
Those, your sorrows
Those, mine sorrows
Sad evenings
Sad faces
That you come and sit besides me
This, my desire
This, my prayer
That but a moment's touch of thine kiss
Is my worship object
The ultimate
The beginning
O, where have the twilight evenings gone
O, where have the yellow mornings dispersed.

Meherzaidi..The poet.

Of a Sweet Forlorn Kiss.

2010-05-06T12:58:00.000-07:00

She dreams of the rose that was so red as he put it in her golden tresses
Sweet scented as his face brushed ever so slightly against them
Silky, shiny golden tresses
Her sweetest smile, enhanced like a bejewelled crown with her pearly white teeth
Betwixt her rosy pink lips,
Hiding her soft, sensous mouth
Inviting to the hidden treasures of her person.
Love, oh what a sweet word,
Formed in his mind,
Waking up in her young heart.
The melodious lark sings on the bougainvillae boughs
She is happy with the advent of spring
The dew drops shine tremolously
On the fresh green grass
Velvety beneath their feet.

Love's forlorn kiss,
Anticipated anxiously
Will it happen,
She cannot breath almost
Eyes closed,
Wondering
And then it is time to wake up!

An Urban Life, A Song of Hope !

2010-04-30T22:42:00.000-07:00

\"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.

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

2010-04-05T22:34:00.000-07:00

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!

Karachi Literature Festival: Literature In Translation.

2010-03-28T02:44:00.000-07:00

http://docs.google.com/View?id=dnw3qjw_27gbw5thhk

Meherzaidi, the writer.

The session on literature in Translation provided insight and tips on how to create good literature translations. The Karachi Literature Festival did generate ideas that good English literary works also need to be translated into Urdu as it is the language that is read and spoken by a wide audience in the subcontinent. It will bring greater cultural exchange and understanding between peoples as desired by the British Council (a cultural NGO).Please read my post on the above address.

Karachi Literature Festival..Creative Writing Workshop.

2010-03-26T00:17:00.000-07:00

Your document is publicly viewable at: http://docs.google.com/View?id=dnw3qjw_26drq7srhm

Meherzaidi, the writer.

The workshop was conducted by Adrian Hussain and Zulfikar Ghose (poetry section) at the Karachi Literature Festival by Oxford University Press, Pakistan and the British Council , Karachi.I have written the post about it on the above website.