My Hindi - Urdu Poetry At Random

This is a blog about Hindi-Urdu poetry done at random. Every poem here is like a forgotten song to me-words don't matter anymore but the intense emotions it once conveyed still linger on in my senses, a bit subdued though. Tragedy of life is the same for all human hearts & I sincerely hope that these poems are able to bring at least some peace & comfort to you as well. I would love to hear from you. Finally & above all, many thanks for spending some of your time here.

क्या बोलूँ . . .

Kya Bolun ...

A reminiscence of the time when life was a palette of romantic ignorance ...

Presented below is a loose English translation of this ghazal (poem). A lot of effort and ability is needed to carry over the charm of poetic expression and aesthetic value present in any original work into another language. I am afraid I do not have this ability. Yet I wanted to reach out to a wider audience. So even at the risk of sounding dull, I have attempted, by the way of this translation, to somehow try to convey the underlying idea of the ghazal however coarse it may seem though. In some places, I have deviated a little from the exact literal translation in an effort to convey the thought aesthetically and to bring it more close to its real meaning. I deeply lament that I could not preserve the allure of metre and rhythm that form the very soul of any ghazal in this translation. I offer my humble apologies to my readers for these poetic failings.

What should I say?

My life did not wear on amidst feelings of incompletion
For your silence would bring messages to me
There is such pleasure in my aching desires

Even my longing for you appears immature now
What should I say with my intoxicated tongue
I am already maligned by the gossips around me
I eventually got lost on the edges of the night
My mornings are thenceforth

much the same as evenings
Perhaps I am again guilty today
For she is sitting there distressed
No story ever came off in my life
That was like the fate of my dreams
My life too would have been beautiful
Had it been like her name!

- Ishu Priye

August 3rd , 2020

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

For terms of use, please visit the Copyright Policy/Terms Of Use page on this blog.

Image Courtesy : Ingmar on Unsplash

न पूछिए ...

Na Poochhiye . . .

Dedicated to the loving memory of my distant uncle Shri Madan Mohan Madhok ji, whom I never met in person yet I took a deep liking to him in our short lived interactions on Facebook. I could not bring myself to say anything else in these sad times ...

Presented below is essentially a literal English translation of this ghazal. A lot of effort and ability is required to carry over the charm of poetic expression and aesthetic value present in any original work into another language. I am afraid I do not have this ability. Yet I wanted to reach out to a wider audience. So even at the risk of sounding dull, I have attempted, by the way of this translation, to somehow try to covey the underlying idea of the ghazal however coarse it may seem though. I deeply lament that I could not preserve the allure of metre and rhythm that form the very soul of any ghazal in this translation. I offer my humble apologies to my readers for these poetic failings.

Don't Ask

Now that he has come alive in my heart
My speech reeks of rebellious pain
Don't ask me where I have to go

The journey itself has become my abode

What's this self awareness that I 've found?

The whole world seems alien to me

Please linger on somewhere once you are out of my sight

It is now time for me to move on

There are no worldly pleasures or any other joy

Ever since my conscience has revealed itself to me
Your thought was like some careless peace of mind
Where should I look for it now that it has hidden itself within me

The distress born out of desires does not go down my throat

Look at the things that I've narrated

- Ishu Priye

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

For terms of use, please visit the Copyright Policy/Terms Of Use page on this blog.

Image Courtesy : Todd Trapani on Unsplash

मैं पशेमाँ हूँ

Main Pasheman Hoon …

I miss the beautiful little sparrows that were once a common sight in my neighbourhood. I miss the butterflies, those little bounties of colours, that once flocked the gardens. Humanity has become the demon of destruction for thousands of such beautiful innocent creatures. We speak of human rights. What about the rights of millions of these delightful wonders of nature? The Earth is their home as well. Or is it not?

This ghazal is an ode to these engaging souls that are being lost at an alarming pace.

Glossary

पशेमाँ – Repentent, Ashamed

बर्द – Cold, Frigid

रवाँ - Soul, Spirit

फनाँ - Destroy

तशद्दुद - अत्याचार, Tyranny

नागवार - Unpleasant

पुरअश्क - Filled with tears

ख़जाँ - पतझड़ , Autumn

I am Ashamed

I am ashamed to be a human
To be a soul caught in a frigid heart
Why does the solitude of the settlements screams?
Someone has been left behind amidst this destruction
Look at the extremeness of your tyranny
I Could not assuage pain even after speaking my heart out
Wherever this world endured, it was unpleasant
What hope can childhood have for its youth now?
How can a tear filled glance find peace
When spring has come in the guise of autumn
- Ishu Priye
✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶

For terms of use, please visit the Copyright Policy/Terms Of Use page on this blog.

Image courtesy Evgeni Tcherkasski on Unsplash

यूँ अपने हाथों खुद को ...

Yun Apne Haathon Khud Ko …

There are times when we feel the guilt of indulging too much in life's pleasures. And then there are times when sighing through the monotony of life, we mourn for our heart's lost desires.

`Yun Apne Haathon Khud Ko` is an expression of getting torn between these two conflicting emotions.

सरहदों की नींद

Sarhadon Ki Neend . . .
Two couplets in Hindi and their English translation.

Forgotten Song . . .
I am well past the age of writing love poetry. This is an old love poem from my intense university days.

ज़माना गुज़रा बात करे

Zamana Guzra Baat Kare ...

If you have a brother or a sister, you should consider yourself lucky. And if he or she lives close by, then believe me, you are extremely blessed as well. My brother lives too far for comfort. Whenever we are done speaking to each other over phone, I keep thinking about him and hold on to the words spoken between us for long. I am sure he too does the same. It was one such conversation that got woven into this poem on the trail of my lost thoughts. So this poem belongs to him.

Presented below is essentially a literal English translation of this poem. A lot of effort and ability is required to carry over the charm of poetic expression and aesthetic value present in any original work into another language. I am afraid I do not have this ability. Yet I wanted to reach out to a wider audience. So even at the risk of sounding dull, I have attempted, by the way of this translation, to somehow try to covey the underlying idea of the poem however coarse it may seem though. I offer my humble apologies to my readers for these poetic failings.

" It Has Been Ages Since We Talked "
It has been ages since we talked

And ages since we met unrestrained

What has become of our emotions

And of those bemused nights

That city which was your own

And that dream of your eyes

You deserted them and so did I
Swayed away by fragile relationships

You went afar under compulsions of life

The splendor of my eyes was gone

But still in some corner of my heart

Whenever feelings about you are kindled

Dust clears off from the body of my memories

And someone meets me with flowing warmth

I am like a tired sea and a dejected shore

You are the light spread far and beyond

May God bring together the separated ones

For it has been ages since we talked.

- Ishu Priye

Note : The original work is registered with the Registrar Of Copyrights, Copyrights Office, Govt. Of India.
For terms of use, please visit the Copyright Policy/Terms Of Use page on this blog.
Image courtesy https://www.myfreetextures.com