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

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

Copyright of this Ghazal © 2020 by Ishu Priye Madhok

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 

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
✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶

Copyright of this Poem © 2020 by Ishu Priye Madhok

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.