If the world is truth, than I am false.
If the world is love, than I am heartbreak.
If the world is light, than I am a shadow.
If the world is an optimist, than I am a pessimist.
If the world is united, than I am divided.
If the world is whole, than I am broken.
If the world is round, than I am flat.
If the world is ordered, than I am chaotic.
If the world is a friend, than I am lonely.
If the world is meaning, than I am meaningless.
If the world is intelligent, than I am naive.
If the world is relevant, than I am irrelevant.
If the world is of God, than I am lost.
Thus is the turmoil of my individual self in this world of great.
Posted in Islam, Life, Love, Muslim, Pakistan, Personal, Poetry, Relationships, Sufi, Sufism, Thoughts, Uncategorized
Dekh Ta Reh Gaya Mere Ishq Ka Janaza.
Samaj Mein Nahi Aata Kya Ho Gaya.
Phhir Ta Tha Mera Ishq, Khush
Aap Lipta Wa Hai Mere Samne, Khushq.
Janaza Ut Raha Hai Aab.
Namazain Par Li Hain
Duaen Maang Li Hain
Aab Tu Zameen Ho Ga Iss Ka Dewana
Mitti Ho Gi Is Ka Sung.
Ishq To Jawani Main Hi Ta
Jub Iss Ka Tumse Mil Na Hu Wa.
Aab To Iss Ka Kya Baan Na
Mitti Ka Yaar Baan Gaya.
Meri Ma, Heer Ne Kaha Tha
Ke Insaan Mar Sak Ta Hai
Par Ishq Kabi Nahi Marta.
Meri Ma Heer, Yeh Dekho!
Ishq Mera Dafan Ho Raha Hai!
Khuda Ki Marzi
Koi Nahi Rok Sak Ta.
Baitha Hua Hoon Mere Ishq Ki Kabar Ke Saath.
Dafan Ho Gaye Hain Woh Neche
Aanson Ruk Nahi Rahe
Shauk Se Bai Rahe Hain Aankon Se
Aur Tarap Ke Chalang Mar Rahe Hain Qabar Pe.
Yeh Hai Khoobi Zindaghi Ka
Ke Saaron Kay Le Aaj Eid Hai
Aur Mere Liye Qayamat.
Log Apne Aap Ko, Bhainon Aur Baition Ko Sajaa Rahe Hain
Aur Main Is Qabar Ko Sajaa Raha Hoon.
Aab Kadam Le Raha Hoon Ghar Vapis.
Kya Kehna Iss Tufan Qayamat Ka
Aab To Barish Bhe Uss Ishq Ke Aankon Ki Chamak Lag Ne Wali Hai.
Kadamain Bhe Khali Aur Aawaara Ho Gaye Hain.
Jo Maza Woh Tha Ghar Vapis Jane Ka
Aab Lag Ne Lag Gaya Hai Zeher.
Ponch Gaya Hoon Aab Ghar
Khamoshiyat Ne Ghar Ko Ghar Bana Liya Hai
Aandhera Bitcha Wa Hai Chadar Ke Tarhan.
Ishq Ke Beghair Ghar Khali Ho Gaya Hai.
Ghar Khud Ban Gaya Hai Aik Qabarestan
Jidhar Har Jaga Yaadein Dafan Hoin We Hain.
Bistar Pe Laita Wa
Samaj Nahi Aati Ke Zamana Kidhar Se Kidhar Chala Gaya.
Aik Wakhat Chor Ke
Aur Dekh Ta Reh Gaya
Mere Ishq Ka Janaza
Posted in India, Islam, Life, Love, Muslim, Pakistan, Personal, Poetry, Punjab, Punjabi, Relationships, Sufi, Sufism, Uncategorized, Urdu
Tagged Ishq, Janaza, Poem, Poet
These clips that I am going to share for you here are pure gems. The first artist featured here is Javed Bashir. Currently he is the lead vocalist for the Pakistani band Mekhal Hassan Band. Javed’s dad was a Qawaal himself and so Javed has been exposed to music his entire life. Amazing voice. The first two clips feature a Norwegian folk artist by the name of Sondre Bratland along side Bashir. The last clip features Atif Aslam with a 2kx rendition of Mae Ni Main Kinnu Aakhan. All these clips are from the Oslo Mela 2006 in Norway. Hope you guys enjoy.
Posted in Blogging, Daily Ramblings, India, Islam, Life, Love, Music, Muslim, Pakistan, Personal, Poetry, Punjab, Punjabi, Religion, Sufi, Sufism, Thoughts, Urdu
Tagged 2006, Atif Aslam, Indian Classical Music, Javed Bashir, Mekhal Hassan Band, Norway, Oslo Mela, Raags, Sondre Bratland
You walk ever so softly on this earth
As if you are mischievously hiding from my love
With all the world’s happiness laughing
Trailing behind you.
I look out my window
And watch a white glow slowly travelling through the streets of my town.
Are those Tambourines I hear?
They are the sounds of the songs sung by your anklets as you take each step.
They sing songs of love, an eternal love, set in the town of love
I step outside my door and ask the passer-by,
O Wine Barer, have you given me a drink tonight?
Silent he remains, only displaying a smile.
Am I going crazy or am I just drunk, I ask myself.
The bright glow travelling through my little town intoxicates my curiosity
And so, I travel true the tight alleys, following the glow and songs the anklets sung.
At first I walked.
But the more I walked, The more intoxicated became my curiosity
As if the search of this glow was its wine.
Walking turned to jogging and jogging turned to running.
I was getting closer.
The songs became louder and more memorising.
The glow became brighter
A heavenly contrast to the black night sky.
At last, I turned the corner of the old stone shoe maker’s shop
And there you appear
Caught whist mischievously hiding from my love.
Your body adorned in saffron.
Your hair blowing in a wind; A wind only centred around you
Your lips draped in the colour of roses in a wild field
Your anklets singing like a Bharati Princess in a castle court yard
Your eyes sparkling like a lake at night under the moon.
I ask myself again, am I going mad or am I drunk?
Why have you the moon in your hands? I ask
Silent, you smile and say nothing.
Instead you turn to the West, and begin walking
All the happiness of the world laughing and dancing as it follows your saffron adorned body.
Instantaneously, I hear tablas and Sitars begin to play an enchanting tune
An unknown voice begins to sing poetic verses describing your saffron adorned body.
My curiosity, ever so drunk, follows you to an orange grove at a hilltop overlooking my little town.
With your arms stretched out, and the moon comfortably resting in your hands
You begin to spin
At first you spin slow.
The unknown voice ceases to sing verses, but now singing the sweetest raag
The tabla changes its tune to a hypnotic beat
And the Sitar changes its song to something that would put the faithless into a trance.
As you begin to spin faster, the instruments begin to play faster, as if to keep up with you.
The stars above begin to spin as well though the Moon stays still.
Faster and Faster you spin and everything becomes almost erratic but ordered at the same time.
Then, all of a sudden you stop, but everything else continues to spin.
The happiness that once trailed behind you, laughing, suddenly jumps up.
One by One, each explodes into the sky, like colourful fireworks at a festival.
Above that, the night sky begins to rain comets and shooting stars.
You laugh as the sky rains fire
Laughing like a little child joyful at the sight of a spinning top.
The wind blows the fabric of saffron adorned body
As if it were a flag representing your beauty.
I fall back against a nearby rock
bewildered and in utter shock.
You turn your head and look at me
Your hair dancing in the wind like an intoxicated dervish.
Slowly you walk towards me, smiling.
I pick myself up
Dusting off the grass on my clothes.
You come closer and closer to me.
And finally you speak:
I came here tonight
To your town
Filled with nothing but love for you in my heart.
Even with that
I felt it was not enough.
I felt I came with empty hands.
And so I reached high above
Right up to the sky
And stole the moon
She reached her hands out
Still with that glowing smile illuminating her face
And blew on the moon.
The moon disintegrates
First turning into dust
Than to doves
Flying straight up and away into the illuminated night sky.
…My eyes suddenly opened. I found myself in bed. And there you were, lying right beside me; wrapped up in your blanket, peacefully sound asleep. Right there and then, you had never looked so beautiful as you had right there. I couldn’t help but smile and melt. I reached over and kissed your soft, warm cheek and went back to sleep.
Posted in Friendship, India, Life, Love, Pakistan, Personal, Poetry, Punjab, Punjabi, Relationships, Sufi, Sufism, Thoughts, Urdu
Tagged Love, Moon, Princess
Kalle Mainde Kaparre
Kalle Mainda Ves
Ghunhi Bhariyan Main
Lok Kahain Darves
My Clothes Are Black
My Outfit Is Black
I Am Full of Sin
And Yet People Call Me A Dervish
-Baba Farid Gunjshakar R.A
Posted in India, Life, Love, Pakistan, Poetry, Punjab, Punjabi, Sufi, Sufism, Thoughts, Urdu
Gone are the days that we loved.
How we have forgotten how those days used to shine.
Now we sit here and become void, black
Scarred by the era in which you were our Queen.
I recall when every second was in dedication to you.
Every situation, every thought, every song
reminded me of your sweet face
When every lyric, every melody and every rhythm
reminded me of the warmth of your embrace.
And now, even the warmth of the summer nights
makes me shiver as those cold memories drown my soul into the blackness of my grave.
I remember when I used to secretly steal glances towards your direction
When you were in a crowd
Or when I yearned to hear your sweet voice on the telephone
Yearning so much that it would hurt.
The listening of your voice had become the act of worship of my ears.
Now I pray that the mere memory of you have not the audacity to enter my dreams.
If you wanted to leave us, we would have sadly obliged…
Packed up the broken pieces of our hearts and left.
But please, leave us as such that we would be able to love again.
The way you left us, how will we ever love again?
The torturous wounds of love have no mercy I guess
For we were thrown away, like a piece of garbage.
And so we stand here, in the shadows of those memories
Void of any colour or light
Watching as our vessels sink into a black sea of oblivion.
You drained what little love we had…
Stole our mercy.
We pray that the destiny you sentenced us to
You too, will suffer the same sentence.
Voice and Drum a special page on my blog dedicated to spreading beautiful spiritual music to my readers. I have updated my page with 5 new additions. One is of a Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan qawaali, one naat, one kalam and two Punjabi folk songs. I strongly encourage you to listen to them take in the beauty of South Asian melody.