For her who by next year this time, would've forgotten me completely)

Woke up with a premonition
Should let go of her
Love prepares
Love repairs
There is a gentle rain in my heart
But I know
I will find my rainbow smile.

Tired is the night
Sad is the day
I know I have to carry on
On the path that I chose
Without fear
Without prejudice
Love is not a relationship
And I never learned to say love in the past tense.

The Song of the Prisoner

I have been walking all along

I have been walking all alone

I look back and I see the mirage of my past

I look ahead at the trail left behind by a clown

I am walking, yes, I am walking, back to my home.

Entangled in chains of breath within me is my soul

I keep on hearing now and then a sad piercing howl

“This journey is not what it seems! ” -the cry echoes again

“You are going to lose everything that you think you have gained.”

So I am walking, yes, I am walking, back to my home.

The prisoner sits in his cell repairing his wings

He has got to be ready for the day when summoned by the King

The journey is not what it seems, now that I understand my pain

I cry along with the prisoner, to each other we are chained

So we are walking, yes, walking, back to our home. 

One Raised to the Power of Five inFilmIndia Worldwide: Debut section–FIW Vol X ...

FilmIndia Worldwide: Debut section–FIW Vol X ...: One Raised to the Power of Five   Rajiv B Menon Mumbai-based Rajiv B Menon’s debut work presents five different short films that merge toge...

The Insomniac

Only an insomniac can see the beauty of the night! The night is so full of treasures. Of dreams discovered with awakened eyes. Let me embrace the lovely brightness of the night.! Let me touch the lips of silence!

Only an insomniac can see the faces of his dreams. As they masquerade under the star lit sky. The night breeze carries the song of the moon which finally settles as dewdrops at the break of dawn.

No, I am not as imaginative as I seem to be. Its merely that I take a stroll along the banks of the night when the whole world is asleep. Picking pebbles of thoughts and ideas which blossom into fragrant flowers in broad daylight.

Only an insomniac can see the beauty in the night. For he stays awake to make love under the silky moonbeam. The night is dark, sensuous, mystical. Swaying to each and every touch of mine. The night is mine. And I belong to the night. 

And only an insomniac can tell you about the secrets of the night. Secrets that are buried deeper than the memory of the soul. So let me embrace the lovely brightness of the night! Let me touch the lips of silence!  

Chakley-A nazm by Sahir Ludhianvi

ye kooche ye neelaam ghar dil_kashi ke
ye luT_te hue kaarawaaN zindagii ke
kahaaN haiN, kahaaN haiN muhaafiz Khudi ke?

sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?

ye pur-pech galiyaaN, ye be-Khwaab baazaar
ye gumnaam raahii, ye sikkoN ki jhaNkaar
ye ismat ke saude, ye saudoN pe takaraar

sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?

ta’affun se pur neem-roshan ye galiyaaN
ye maslee hui adh-khilee zard kaliyaaN
ye bikati hui khokalii rang-raliyaaN

sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?

vo ujale dareechoN meiN paayal ki chhan-chhan
tanaffus ki uljhan pe tabale ki dhan-dhan
ye be-ruuh kamroN meiN khaaNsii kii Dhan-Dhan

sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?

ye guuNje hue qah-qahe raastoN par
ye chaaroN taraf bheeR si khiRkiyoN par
ye aawaazeN khiNchate hue aaNchaloN par

sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?

ye phuuloN ke gajare, ye peekoN ke chheeNTe
ye be-baak nazreN, ye gustaaKh fiqare
ye Dhalake badan aur ye madqooq chehare

sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?

ye bhuukii nigaaheN haseenoN ki jaanib
ye baRate hue haath seenoN ki jaanib
lapakate hue paaNv zeenoN ki jaanib

sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?

yahaaN peer bhii aa chuke haiN jawaaN bhi
tanuumand beTe bhi, abbaa miyaaN bhi
ye biwi bhi hai aur behan bhi hai, maaN bhi

sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?

madad chaahti hai ye hawwaa ki beTi
yashodaa ki ham-jins raadhaa ki beTi
payaMbar ki ummat zulaiKhaa ki beTi

 sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?

zaraa mulk ke raahbaroN ko bulaao
ye kuuche ye galiyaaN ye maNzar dikhaao
sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq ko laao

sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?

This poem from his first collection of poems called "Talkhiyan" was used by Guru Dutt in his film "Pyaasa". Sahir merely changed the refrain-"sanaa-Khwaan-e-taqdees-e-mashriq kahaaN haiN?" with "Jinhe naaz hai Hind par wo kahan hai?"

Sahir did it many a times,using his poems as songs and changing a couple of words here and there. Like using the word 'anjaam" instead of the original word "takmeel" in the song "Chalo ek baar phir se ajnabee ban jaaaye hum dono."-from the film "Gumraah", a B R Chopra film. This again is a poem from "Talkhiyan" called "Khoobsurat mod".

Bol ke lab azad hai tere(To Shaheen Dhada)

A poem for the times by Faiz Ahmed Faiz

bol ke lab azaad hai tere
bol zubaan ab tak teri hai
tera sutwa jism hai tera

bol ke jaan ab tak teri hai
bol...bol ke lab azaad hai tere
dekh ke ahangar ki dukaan main
tund hai shole surkh hai ahan
khulne lage kafalo ke dahane
pehla har ek zanjeer ka daman
bol...bol yeh thora waqt bahut hai
jism zubaan ki maut se pehle
bol ke sach zinda hai ab tak
bol jo kuch kehna hai keh le
bol jo kuch kehna hai keh le-

Translation:
Do speak up, for your lips/thoughts are yet free
Do speak up, for your tongue is still yours
Do Speak, for your strong body is your own
And must speak, as your soul is still yours,
Heed the blacksmiths’ shop
Scorching flames turn the iron red hot
Tearing open the (jaws of) locks
every chain thus begins to break
time to speak, for this brief time is long enough
Just before your body and words die
do speak, for the truth still prevails
must speak up, say what you must.

Power of Love

I buried her. She came back. I cremated her. Yet she returned. Her phantom is more real than her. I can feel her presence in her absence. My soul wears the fragrant robe of her memory. Five years. Its been five years since she glanced at me. Its been five years since she moved on. Five years since. Since I lowered my eyes in a silent prayer and touched the sky painting a rainbow with my heart. Dark, willful cloud of my intelligence tells me to forget her and breaks my heart into a thousand suns, a thousand brilliant suns blinding my reason. O my little princess, kill me, show some more apathy, have no mercy, disrobe me off my sanity, bathe me in your child like laughter, and cradle me to a greater madness. This madness is my power of love!