تنہائی میں کیا کیا نہ تجھے یاد کیا ہے

کیا کیا نہ دل زار نے ڈھونڈھی ہیں پناہیں

آنکھوں سے لگایا ہے کبھی دست صبا کو

ڈالی ہیں کبھی گردن مہتاب میں بانہیں

The Beauteous Too, Live In The Same World ..

In Pushto by Rahim Majrooh

Translation by Syed Aadil Omer

I’ve always thought,
If nothing else,
but at least in the matter of love
all the comely people in the world
wouldn’t have any sense of deprivation.
They would be thorougly self-sufficient
with abundance of love for them; they would
be happy in possession of this treasure
without any complain or displeasure,

for they are adored by all;
they rule over the hearts of the people.
They are eagerly awaited wherever they go
as people hold them in high affection;
they are treated with special care.
Every set of eyes admire their beauty.
People even spend their entire
lives to fulfill their wishes.
All the admiration, the veneration
is reserved for them.
They are considered the weakness
of every human being;
their chin-moles have been deemed
wealtheir than Samarqand and Bukhara.
Even kings behave like courtiers
at their doors-steps;
They are dedicated books,
and building are built on their names.
They are the fairies
of the imagination of poets;
they are the princesses
of the dreams of painters.
To meet even a single of their wishes
some are ready to stake
their lives while others could forsake
their entire surroundings and faiths.

Hence I think,
in the matter of love,
all the beauteous in the world
wouldn’t have any sense of deprivation;
they would be self-content in love,
but nay, it isn’t the case!

One can’t fathom the depth of a sea
standing afar on the shore.
The elegance, no matter how charming therewith
they might seem,
like the proud fairies of Koh e Qaaf,
or how reckless or ruthless they might look ,
they also breathe in the very world which we inhabit.
And this world is all but the name
of a trial; of desires, of the dreams unfulfilled.

So, the handsomes too carry in their hearts
a number of wastelands like that of a moon.
They too pass through the phases
of several heartbreaks, like that of a flowerbud
before smiling into a full bloom.
They too melt in the flames of their own selves
like that of a candle.
They could be in likeness to a parched shore
that breaks into cracks in waiting
of the arrival of favourable tides;
and like a phoenix
they burn in to ashes.

Another translation ..

The gifts of Globalization are many, so are its curses like colonization, wars and monopolies but since I’m sick of the wars and violence around, I deemed it appropriate to resort to poetry. Incidentally, the name of the below translated poem is also ‘Globalization’ which thankfully is having a different context.

In this modern age of Globalization

The distances have so shrunk

In a manner,

That these seem unreal

Like a dream,

Or like a mere figment

Of one’s imagination.

People in the world

Have become so close

As those living in a village

Or in a same little house.

But you and I,

The eternal unfortunates,

Are dwelling in the same city

For years,

Without a contact,

Without a relation.

We are so oblivious

Of the whereabouts of each other.

What sort of a cave,

Of the times bygone is that

Wherein we are resting?

Which kind of a season,

Or times we expect

And are waiting for?

I ask you, love, to judge by yourself!

Since I have not been able to write my mind of late, I’ve found it apt to try and translate someone else’, so here ‘s another R.K. Majrooh poem that might make to a collection of my translations to be included in his upcoming book of Pushto poetry.

la sta da ishq awo sta da meeney peeryan

ma na kooz shawe na dee

la sta da husn talismi asar na

za rawataley na yem

la me da wasl loogharhana tanda

yawa zara hum mata shawey na da

la me da shauq da lewantob abaseen

kha pa ghorzang rawan de

la me da zrha pa khudadad mumlikat

sta da yadoono raaj de

la da ghwagoono pa gumbad ke zama

sta da painzo awo da bangrho shranga da

la me da stargo da banho pa asman

da speno okhko kehkashan zaleegi

sara da de che pa safar ke da jwand

dasey muqam ta rasedaley yema

charta che da da mayentob khabarey

charta che da da lewantob khabarey

hess ehmiat na laree

hess haisiat na laree

dere sat-hee awo beymanee khkareegi

da qadar warho da qeemati asasey

koota seekey khkareegi

da hosh awo aqal Guantanamo Bay ke

bandey aksar mastey jazbey khkareegi

nu oos insaf pa ta de, waya kana!

che ta zama da lewantob de kaifiat ta aakhir

kom tanazur ke gorey

da taalluq da paidara awo zangarey jazba

ta da maayar pa koma tala taley ..

I’m still haunted

by the ghosts of your love

I’m not yet out of the trance

of your beauty

My lips are still parched

with the thirst of your union

The tides of my passion

still rise with the same ferosity

Your thoughts are still there

to rule over the land of my heart

The music of your anklets and bangles

still chime in my ears

A galaxy of crystalline tears still shines

on the tips of my lashes,

Though I’ve reached a certain place

in the journey of life, where

things like love and passion seem all

but shallow and meaningless;

where all those treasured assets

of the esteemed lovers

feel like useless coins,

like the fervor of love

imprisioned in the Guantanamo Bay

of reason,

yet I ask you, love, to judge by yourself!

How do you look at the state of my ardour?

Whats your criteria to discern

the strength and distinction of

my feelings for you?

Two Hykus In Translation

In Pushto: Rahim Khan Majrooh

1) Ya kha buzdil ya kha ashna de zama

che pa maray zama charha teravee

awo zaroorat mehsoosavi da naqab

He is either a friend or a coward to extreme

While slitting my throat

He feels the need to cover his face

2) za che tarsou na wom panah la kali

ma che har sou warey pa sha okatal

da bam pa sar sra lupata khwazeda

Until I left the proximity of village

Every time I looked back

A red veil fluttered on top of the roof

Faraz Kaisay Bhulaoo’N Teray Firaaq Ka Ghum!

Yesterday, August 25th was the first death anniversary of the revolutionary poet Ahmad Faraz. His absence still confounds the logic, for his words, his magic is all around us. We felt an overwhelming presence of the spirit of Faraz in the recent Lawyers Movement and his pugnacity is always cited where there is a struggle against the forces of evil.

Like his resistance poetry, his tributes to the Holy Prophet (S.A.W) too are filled with the concern he felt for his downtrodden people struck hard by the illegitimate forces of the State as well as exploited by the Political jugglers in the visage of religious clerics. Below here is one such Naat that angered the dictatorial regime of the time to an extent that Faraz was jailed for reciting it in a forum at a gathering in Karachi.

مرے رسول کہ نسبت تجھے اجالوں سے

میں تیرا ذکر کروں صبح کے حوالوں سے

نہ میری نعت کی محتاج ذات ہے تیری

نہ تیری مدح ہے ممکن مرے خیالوں سے

تو روشنی کا پیمبر ہے اور مری تاریخ

بھری پڑی ہے شب ظلم کی مثالوں سے

ترا پیام محبت ہے اور میرے یہاں

دل و دماغ ہیں پر نفرتوں کے جالوں سے

یہ افتخار ہے تیرا کہ میرے عرش مقام

تو ہمکلام رہا ہے زمین والوں سے


مگر یہ مفتی و واعظ یہ محتسب یہ فقیح

جو معتبر ہیں فقط مصلحت کی چالوں سے

خدا کے نام کو بیچیں مگر خدا نہ کرے

اثر پزیر ہوں خلق خدا کے نالوں سے

نہ میری آنکھ میں کاجل نہ مشکبو ہے لباس

کہ میرے دل کا ہے رشہ خراب حالوں سے

ہے ترش رو مری باتوں سے صاحب منبر

خطیب شہر ہے برہم مرے سوالوں سے

مرے ضمیر نے قابیل کو نہیں بخشا

میں کیسے صلح کروں قتل کرنے والوں سے

میں بے بساط سا شاعر ہوں پر کرم تیرا

کہ با شرف ہوں قبا و کلاہ والوں سے