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

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.

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.

Photo By Abro Khuda Bukhsh.

ہم قفس کی دیوار تکتے رہے 

سارے پہنچی جو آزاد پھرتے رہے 

مانیندے جگنو وہ سب چمکتے رہے 

ہم قفس کے ہی اندر جلتے رہے 

وہ دمک کر روشن اردتے رہے 

ہم اندر ہی اندر بجھتے رہے 

زندگی سارے شام ہی بوجھ گی 

اور بہت سے زخم پھر بھی کھلتے رہے 

سارے لوح وہ قلم سجاتے ہیں تصویری بتاں 

ہم منیندے عذر پتھر کے پیچھے رہے 

شام یی تو یہ رازے بٹ زر خلا 

سارے روشن سویرے کہیں کھو گئے 

تم کہیں جب سمندر کے بھر کھرے جب رہو 

دیکھ لینا وہ سفینے جو نظارے موجے سفر ہو گئے 

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.

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.

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.

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

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.