Yaad…

This is something I found somewhere on the net. The person who has written it was not specified there. However their is something in this poetry that gives way to some pain hidden inside. To all those who have drank the bitter cup of wine only to find a lifetime of unrest. Here it goes:

Jo bhi dukh yaad na tha yaad aayaa,
Aaj kyaa jaaniye kyaa yaad aayaa
Fir koi haath hai dil par jaise,
Fir teraa ahd-e-vafaa yaad aayaa
Jis tarah dhund mein lipte hue phool,
Ek ek naqsh teraa yaad aayaa
Aisii majboorii ke aalam mein koi,
Yaad aayaa bhi to kyaa yaad aayaa
Yaad aaya tha bichadna tera,
Fir nahiin yaad ke kya yaad aayaa…

Longing

longing by Paulitte Insall

Hey all,

I have been reading my old diary from a few days. Earlier I had this habit of jotting down words that I felt were absolutely delightful. In fact beautiful words; like beautiful ladies have always made me feel a sense of longing for something unrecognizable. I have tried to fathom but never succeeded in finding what it is that makes me feel love, disappointment, sadness and grief all at once. This longing; she is my tormenter as well as my solace. Like a jealous lover she rebukes me, but seeing me sad her heart melts and she comforts my desolate soul. Time progresses and our love hate relationship matures. It is like those haggard couples that grow old fighting acrimoniously, never agree on anything under the sun, rake up nightmares from the past and fill their life with bitterness- but never give up. Because they realize that they are incomplete without each other. There is music even in the chaos.

Anyways, coming back to my five-year-old diary, I found this beautiful poem written by Faiz Ahmed Faiz. This is an English translation of the original. I do not know who did it but I am very thankful to him as I do not know Urdu. So here it goes. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do every time I read it.

MUSIC BY NIGHT

Midnight, moon, self-forgetfulness;

The assemblage of existence is desolate,

Silence is the embodiment of longing,

The gathering of stars is a melancholy thing,

The waterfall of silence is flowing,

On the four sides a sort of unconsciousness is prevailing.

Life is like a part of a dream,

All the world is like a mirage;

On the dense trees is sleeping

The tired voice of moonlight;

The Milky Way with half open glances

Breathes legends of self surrendering love;

From the heart’s unplucked strings

Echoes of blissful raptures drift -

Longings, dreams and your beautiful face.

- Faiz Ahmed Faiz