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 

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.

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
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