Thursday, 28 July 2016

Sadia's Writings!

~ Flailing in your arm,
Inside that little nut-brown valise,
Packed away is a tangible chunk of my life,

And such easily, I was kept from living it—
All in the wake of your wayward 'walk away'.


Living without you,
Could not have been this bad—
As is not to live at all. ~

~ चाहना, चाहना, ज़ियारत--इत्मिनान का खेल है,
फुरसत मिली गर इस ज़िन्दगी से, तो ज़रूर खेलेंगे... ~

~ Do you still hate braid?
Or, now you plait to incarcerate those sunny locks?
I know, Lass,
A loose auburn bun must be embellishing your pearl face…
Your fingers,
Long and slender, those ambling inanely to your nose,
Crinkled small nose,
Resembling your grandfather’s capsized boat…
Your lips, Lassie, do they mutter,
The songs of naïve adolescence?
I just hope,
They are not as quite as this room of mine…
Freckled cheeks, I loved how you cribbed,
About the specks of God’s imprudence on your skin;
You looked pretty though!
Don’t worry about your flab, too
Perfection in my world is,
Tubbiness padded you…
Don’t panic, just stay put, my Lass,
Corral around your home would keep you safe,
Until, future has become past…
Lassie, are you listening to your pet?
Your ringlets of hair, do they still take wings?
Is there cosseting zephyr—
A warm sweet light wind, lingering in your grave?

Lass... ~

~ मुहब्बत हो ही जानी थी... ज़रा इत्तेफाक़ जो रखते,
ये दूरी भी फना होती, सिलसिला--मुलाक़ात तो रखते... ~

~ तकबीर--आरज़ू है, सुन ले मुसाफिर,
जो बेहद लम्बा सफर है... तो आज ठहर जा...

इस बसर, उस शहर, तेरा कोई ठिकाना,
एक-आध लम्हे की नींद को, तू आज ठहर जा... ~

~ अब, इस तफसील की तफ्तीश एहम्काना है,
मैं रही उनकी, या ग़ालिबन... वो मेरे थे। ~

~ This,
That I seek refuge from,
Is my own delirium—
And to my dismay,
I have no place
To moor
But my fraught thought…

When did I become an asylum—
This again,
I may not know. ~

~ तू है एक क़तरा,
इत्र का,
और मैं शीशे की शीशी,
दायरों में तुझको समेटे हुई...
महफूज़ हूँ जब तलक,
तुझे तहफ्फुज़ दे रहा हूँ,
वरना बिखरने को चार सिमत पड़ी हैं,
और सिफर क़ैद...


~ It is just not,
Rain like bijou thing,
Falling from the sky.

It in fact is,
Wending one's way under the sun,
With no birches taking your side;

Toiling... until day perches high,
On the night's... lapis lazuli thigh;

And then you watch, night reposing,
In those weathered wakeful arms,
And dreaming—

That love just is,
Rain like bijou thing,
Falling from the sky... ~

~ Hips thrusting unrhythmically,
Intermittently,
Cervix is 10 centimeters,
After dilation of 5...

Jagged breaths— short and sharp,
Follows then fatigue and nausea,
For she is emotionally warped.

Her cervix is effaced,
Pain, interspersed;

By 3 centimeters, or more perhaps,
Pink gossamer is simply slashed,
And now the vulva crowns;
It stings, it burns... No! Let her shriek and cry!

"Gently, slowly, yes, because it shall pass;
Bear the unbearable for the sake of your God!"

So just one more push,
This last time...
And the baby is out,
In her world,
That calls— the woman— feeble and fragile. ~

~ Incurious silt,
Settling in between the toes of my feet,

Is the onliest seer,
Of subliminal journey,
That I will make someday,
Before becoming one of it(silt),
To leave traces on someone else's feet... ~

~ Love is... just too plain a lass,
For the savants, versed, and highbrows,
That they eviscerate her homely body,
To plunder the bottomless bed,
But return beggarly;
Forlorn, and destitute utterly.

And then they raise their heads,
To give out an agonized cry,
"O' hail ye!
Love, thy sobriquet,
She played knavery,
And even pilfered what little I had.
To this day I wander,
Often drifting away like a tumbleweed..."

[And from beyond the intellect, beautiful Love comes dragging her skirts, a cup of wine in her hand... (Rumi)]

... to whisper in their delirious ears,
Sweet lilt of a thousand celestial years,
"Sshhh... be quiet... I am here,
Open up your eyes to my land..." ~

~ Cannot I—
Just come there,
Lie by your side,
And rejoice in you?

For until the time,
You can hear what I say,
What sweet felicity it is,
To tell that I exist because you do. ~

~ रूदाली की, रुलाई चुका दी,
दरज़ी की, सिलाई अदा की,
रैन-बसेरे सा जी, रफू करा के,
मैंने सारी पीर पराई सुला दी। ~

~ गली के मोड़ से, जो कमसिन सी शामें गुज़रती थीं,
बड़ी ही रंगीन होती थीं... बहुत, नमकीन होती थीं... ~

~ बस मुख़्तसिर सी, साहिब, एक बात थी,
लावारिस दिन, और लम्बी भूखी रात थी,
खाने, बिछाने, बदन ढाकने को हर रोज़,
सड़क पर, ख़बर की, इतनी औक़ात थी।
***Unlike us, the apathetic stoics, they bring the 'news'paper to some functional use. ~

~ Aasteenen sikudd rahin, aur daaman na wo' ab gulabi rahe,
Mujasma saz ne lihaaza, ashq ander hi ander modd diye...
आस्तीनें सिकुड़ रहीं, और दामन ना वो अब गुलाबी रहे,
मुजस्मा साज़ ने लिहाज़ा, अश्क़ अंदर ही अंदर मोड़ दिए... ~

~ Khat ke mazmoon sa din guzra unka,
Mere pehlu mein raha kal, hujra unka...
ख़त के मज़मून सा दिन गुज़रा उनका,
मेरे पेहलू में रहा कल... हुजरा उनका... ~

~ धूप हूँ,
नहीं रूप हूँ,
तुम आईना,
मैं स्वरूप हूँ।
* I am what you are. ~

~ बंद बरनी का भपका था,
सांझ, अँखियन से टपका था...

* बरनी - An earthenware (jar with a heavy lid) to store pickles, marmalade, oils and syrups. 
भपका - A light warm cloud of stale air that reeks. 
सांझ - Evening. ~

~ ना लगा, सखी री, उबटन मोहे,
कोरा अंग, रंगरेज़ की बाट जोहे*...
*रंगरेज़ की बाट जोहे - Waiting patiently for the one who dyes clothes.
(I do not desire to be anybody else's, but get drenched in the colour of his being; waiting to dissolve in him. To be(come) his.) ~

Saturday, 25 June 2016

I rise


I rise,
I rise from a wilted rose,
Blooming in your cheeks,
And from a grass spikelet,
Dewed in those pink eyes.
I rise inasmuch as,
My body sleeps below the soil...
For thirty dense years, in Ar- Rihla*,
Sighing, and marveling at my travel inside,
Ibn Battuta* lies calm on your thigh!
I rise,
I rise from my arid breast,
Like the verses and chants,
And from the quiet promise,
Of meeting you... in the end.
I rise... wherefore,
A dallied tryst I must now behold.

*Ar- Rihla - The journey
*Ibn Battuta - One of the greatest travelers of all time.

Wednesday, 25 May 2016

Ana'al-Haqq

Ana'al-Haqq

Not a fleck of beauty, 
Crossed the hem of your face,
To leaven my imagination such mundane.

So turn me infidel,
To another world outside you;
And blind to the sight of truth,
Other than you, if.

Hoo'al-Haqq!
Rooh'al-Haqq!
Ana'al-Haqq!

[He is truth! Soul of truth! <and therefore> I am truth!]

Dwelling in (upon) you,
As a smitten anomaly,
I am in your restraint.


NOTE – Mansur Al-Hallaj was a famous Sufi of the 10th Century who was executed (skinned alive and hung by the neck) for having stated: "Ana'al Haqq" which means "I am the Truth".
The orthodox called it a blasphemy, thinking that he was claiming to be God himself, whereas he was only proclaiming in a state of sublime spiritual ecstasy, a total annihilation of 'self' (his Ego). What he meant was that he mattered not; all that mattered was He (God).

Friday, 13 May 2016

CATHARSIS

Picture Maker: Sanjay Pandita 

CATHARSIS

It recoiled,
At my poultice touch,
Although ensnared was I.

No nosh or sup,
Would it swallow,
and vomited as if in malaise.

It healed as,
I licked and dabbed,
On my chest, to relapse again.

I thus unhooked,
My maudlin blouse,
To let go of that malcontent part.

Vestige of mine,
Espoused vagrancy,
And much of a time has gone past.



गहरे समंदर,एक सीपी गोता खाया,
हाथ से फ़िसला, फ़िर हाथ आया। #‎कमली

Wednesday, 4 May 2016

How to BE

Like a swag,
(not the acronym, I apologize)
Suspended,
Between the two,

"To be                                                                           or not to be"

And passably close,
To the third mordant leg,

                             "In any case, where to be"

My sensibilities did conk out!
And I could be seen,
Reasoning and hunting for asylum, 
From the tyranny of an overwrought 'I'...
I was vamoosing the bedlam,
When a signpost swished by,

ﻛُﻞُّ ﻧَﻔْﺲٍ ﺫَﺁﺋِﻘَﺔُ ﺍﻟْﻤَﻮْﺕِ*
(every soul shall have a taste of death)

And I pulled up,
Tyres screeching,
In rhythm with my soil,
                
                    "Why to be, O' tell me, how not to be"

i asked.



* The verse from the Quran