Posts Tagged Love

The SCN press release echoes my sentiments at the disgusting act of vandalism in Peshawar. It is a befitting metaphor for the barbaric bigotry and the ineffectual state – a dangerous mix.

It is a matter of national shame for Pakistan to have sunk this low. Rahman Baba (1653 -1711 AD) commands a universal following for his mystic syncretism, has now fallen prey to the cannibalistic doctrine of bigotry and intolerance. (more…)

I was first seduced by love
then put in a fire of agonies
as i won the mastery
of the beloved
the beloved dropped me
and was gone

–Translation by Nader Khalili
Rumi, Dancing the Flame
Cal-Earth Press, 2001

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First, he tempted me
with infinite caresses.
He burnt me in the end
with pain and sorrow.
In this game of chess
I had to lose myself
in order to win Him.

– Translation by Azima Melita Kolin
and Maryam Mafi
Rumi: Whispers of the Beloved
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, 1999

This Love is the king,
yet a throne cannot be found.
It is the essence of the Koran
yet a verse cannot be found.
Any lover hit by the Hunter’s arrow
will bleed all over,
yet a wound cannot be found.

– Version by Jonathan Star and Shahram Shiva
“A Garden Beyond Paradise”
Bantam Books, 1992 (more…)

With every breath the sound
of love surrounds us,
and we are bound for the depths
of space, without distraction.

We’ve been in orbit before
and know the angels there.
Let’s go there again, Master,
for that is our land. (more…)

Who I am

I know not who I am,
I am neither a believer going to the mosque
Nor given to non-believing ways.
Neither clean nor unclean,
Neither Moses nor Pharaoh.
I know not who I am.

I am neither among sinners nor among saints,
Neither happy nor unhappy,
I belong neither to water nor to earth.
I am neither fire nor air,
I know not who I am.

Neither do I know the secret of religion,
Nor am I born of Adam and Eve.
I have given myself no name,
I belong neither to those who squat and pray,
Nor to those who have gone astray.
I know not who I am.

I was in the beginning; I’d be there in the end.
I know not any one other than the One.
Who could be wiser than Bulleh Shah
Whose Master is ever there to tend?
I know not who I am.

Come my Love, take care of me

Come my Love, take care of me,
I am in great agony.
Ever separated, my dreams are dreary,
Looking for you, my eyes are weary.
All alone I am robbed in a desert,
Waylaid by a bunch of waywards.

The Mulla and Qazi show me the way,
Their maze of dharma that is in sway.
They are the confirmed thieves of time.
They spread their net of saintly crime.

Their time-worn norms are seldom right,
With these they chain my feet so tight!
My love cares not for caste or creed.
To the ritual faith I pay no head.

My Master lives on yonder bank
While I am caught in the gale of greed.
With his boat at anchor, He stands in wait,
I must hasten I can’t be late.

Bulleh Shah must find his love,
He needn’t have the least fright.
His Love is around, yet he looks for him
Misled in the broad daylight.

Come my love take care of me,
I am in great agony.

**************

Strange are the times!

Crows swoop on hawks
Sparrows do eagles stalk
Strange are the times!

The Iraqis are despised
While the donkeys are prized
Strange are the times!

Those with coarse blankets are kings;
The erstwhile kings watch them from the ring.
Strange are the times!

Its not without reason or rhyme,
Strange are the times

Says Bulleh, kill your ego
And throw away your pride.
You need to forget yourself
To find Him by your side.

It’s all in One contained

Understand the One and forget the rest.
Shake off your ways of an apostate pest.
Leading to the grave to hell and torture,
Rid your mind of dreams of disaster.
This is how is the argument maintained,
It’s all in One contained.

What use is it bowing one’s head?
To what avail has prostrating led?
Reading Kalma you make them laugh,
Absorbing not a word while the Quran you quaff.
The truth must be here and there sustained,
It’s all in One contained.

Some retire to the jungles in vain.
Others restrict their meals to a grain.
Misled they waste away unfed
And come back home half alive, half dead.
Emaciated in the ascetic postures feigned,
it’s all in One contained,

Seek your master, say your prayers and surrender to God,

It will lead you to mystic abandon
And help you to get attuned to the Lord.
It’s all the truth that Bulleh has gained.
It’s all in One contained.

Bulleh Shah, a renowned Muslim spiritual leader of the sub continent of Indo-Pakistan, was a Punjabi Sufi poet. His spiritual master was Shah Inayat Qadiri of Lahore and because of this Bulleh was referred to as a saint or spiritual leader. Bulleh’s real name was Abdullah Shah, but he was known as Bulleh to his family and that was the name he chose to use as a poet. (more…)

Contribution by Naveed Siraj

The Risalo of Shah Latif is divided into chapters called Surs which are composed on the lines of musical notes. Each sur is based on symbols taken from stories which are part of Sindhi folklore. Sur Kamod in the Risalo of Shah Latif is based on the love story of Noori Jam-Tamachee:

Noori Jam-Tamachee

King Jam Tamachi was a Samo ruler of lower Sind at the end of the 14th century A.D. While on a shooting expedition, he chanced to see a fisher girl named Noori, falling madly in love with her and offered to married her, his love for her blind to the social disparity between them.

When they returned back to his capital, he was made aware of the general disapproval of this match. He merely observed that the detractors did not know her as much as he did. In order to display her character and appease the cynics, one day, he announced to his queens, that he would take one of them for a ride on an outing. (more…)

I rediscovered this exquisite poem by Parveen Shakir after years. This is an intense love poem of rare beauty. It is composite, taut and melodic. I have tried to translate it – however, the impossibility of a translation haunts me..

More so, the reality of days gone by, the visions lost haunts me even more..

Dedicated to those who stand by the sea of evening colours and moods and want to merge with their expanse. And, to someone who lives with time present and time past with equal ease..

yay haseen shaam apni

yay haseen shaam apni
abhi jiss meiN ghul rahi hai
teray parahan kee khushboo
abhi jiss meiN khil rahay heiN
meray khawab kay shagoofay
zera dair ka hai manzar

zera dair meiN ufq par
khilay ga koi sitaara
teri simt daik kar woh
karay ga koi ishara
teray dil ko aayay ga phir
kissi yaad ka bullawa
koi qissa-ay judaaee, koi kaar-ay naamukamal
koi khawab-ay naa shagufta, koi baat kehnay wali

humeiN chaahiyay tha milna
kissi ahad-ay mehrbaaN meiN
kissi khawab kay yaqeeN meiN
kissi aur aasmaaN par
kissi aur sarzameeN meiN
humeiN chahiyay tha milna…

Here is the odd translation rendered by this blogger.

This melting evening of ours
Where everything dissolves
the scent of your clothes
the blossoming
sprouts of my dreams
All dissolves

A deferred vision, this is

In a little while,
a star will emerge on the horizon
To gaze at you
Meaningfully…!
Your heart shall then reminisce
the echo of a memory
The tale of a separation,
Of an unfinished moment
Of unblossomed dreams, things unsaid

We ought to have met
In times, considerate
In pursuit of attainable dreams
On a different sky
On a different earth
We ought to have met

Picture by Raza Rumi

It’s a habit of yours to walk slowly.

You hold a grudge for years.

With such heaviness, how can you be modest?

With such attachments, do you expect to arrive anywhere?

Be wide as the air to learn a secret.

Right now you’re equal portions clay

and water, thick mud.

Abraham learned how the sun and moon and the stars all set.

He said, No longer will I try to assign partners for God.

You are so weak. Give up to grace.

The ocean takes care of each wave

till it gets to shore.

You need more help than you know.

You’re trying to live your life in open scaffolding.

Say Bismillah, In the name God,

As the priest does with knife when he offers an animal.

Bismillah your old self

to find your real name.
From “The Essential Rumi”published by Castle Books.

Listen to the song of the reed,
How it wails with the pain of separation:

“Ever since I was taken from my reed bed
My woeful song has caused men and women to weep.
I seek out those whose hearts are torn by separation
For only they understand the pain of this longing.
Whoever is taken away from his homeland
Yearns for the day he will return.
In every gathering, among those who are happy or sad,
I cry with the same lament.
Everyone hears according to his own understanding,
None has searched for the secrets within me.
My secret is found in my lament
But an eye or ear without light cannot know it..”

The sound of the reed comes from fire, not wind
What use is one’s life without this fire?
It is the fire of love that brings music to the reed.
It is the ferment of love that gives taste to the wine.
The song of the reed soothes the pain of lost love.
Its melody sweeps the veils from the heart.
Can there be a poison so bitter or a sugar so sweet
As the song of the reed?
To hear the song of the reed
everything you have ever known must be left behind.

– Version by Jonathan Star
“Rumi – In the Arms of the Beloved”
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, New York 1997

Courtesy Sunlight where more versions can be found.

Sahir Ludhianvi’s immortal poem Taj Mahal has always fascinated me. It takes a most unconventional take at this beautiful monument where the poet protests at the choice of a romantic rendezvous.

Today, I found a lovely translation of this poem. I am reproducing it below – but first a few lines from Urdu:

Yeh chaman zar yeh jamna ka kinara yeh mahal
Yeh munaqqash dar-o-deevar yeh mehrab yeh taaq
Aik shahanshah nay daulat ka sahara lay ker
Hum ghareebon kee mohabbat ka uraya hai mazaaq

Taj Mahal

The Taj, mayhap, to you may seem, a mark of love supreme
You may hold this beauteous vale in great esteem;
Yet, my love, meet me hence at some other place!

How odd for the poor folk to frequent royal resorts;
‘Tis strange that the amorous souls should tread the regal paths
Trodden once by mighty kings and their proud consorts.
Behind the facade of love my dear, you had better seen,
The marks of imperial might that herein lie screen
You who take delight in tombs of kings deceased,
Should have seen the hutments dark where you and I did wean.
Countless men in this world must have loved and gone,
Who would say their loves weren’t truthful or strong?
But in the name of their loves, no memorial is raised
For they too, like you and me, belonged to the common throng.

These structures and sepulchres, these ramparts and forts,
These relics of the mighty dead are, in fact, no more
Than the cancerous tumours on the face of earth,
Fattened on our ancestor’s very blood and bones.
They too must have loved, my love, whose hands had made,
This marble monument, nicely chiselled and shaped
But their dear ones lived and died, unhonoured, unknown,
None burnt even a taper on their lowly graves.

This bank of Jamuna, this edifice, these groves and lawns,
These carved walls and doors, arches and alcoves,
An emperor on the strength of wealth, Has played with us a cruel joke.
Meet me hence, my love, at some other place.

Translation by K.C. Kanda, appeared in Masterpieces of Urdu Nazm published by Sterling Publishers Pvt. Ltd. – found here

Enough of learning, my friend!

Enough of learning, my friend!

To it there is never an end

An alphabet should do for you,

It’s enough to help you fend.

You’ve amassed much learning around,

The Quran and its commentaries profound.

There is darkness amidst lighted ground.

Without the guide you remain unsound.

Learning makes you a Sheikh or his minion,

And thus you create problems trillion.

You exploit others who know not what,

Misleading them with wild opinion.

You meditate and you say your prayers

You go and shout at the top of the stairs.

Your cry reaching the high skies,

Its your avarice which ever belies.

The day I learnt love’s lesson,

I plunged into the river of divine passion;

An overwhelming gale, I was confounded and lost

When Shah Inayat cruised me across.

Source: here

More on Bulleh Shah here and here

Punjabi version is below (more…)

If you are seeking Allah

If you are seeking Allah,
Then keep clear of religious formalities.
Those who have seen Allah
Are away from all religions!
Those who do not see Allah here,
How will they see Him beyond?

Let us go the land of Kak
Where love flows in abundance,
There are no entrances, no exits,
Every one can see the Lord!

There is no light nor day
Every one can see the Lord!
Those who love the Lord
The world cannot hold them.
Palaces do not attract them,
Nor women nor servants
Nothing binds them:
The renouncers leave everything behind.

A message came from the Lord:
A full moon shone
Darkness disappeared
A new message came from the Lord:
It does not matter what caste you are
Whoever come, are accepted.

Where shall I take my camel,
All is Light…
Inside there is Kak, mountain and valley,
The Lord and the Lord: there is nothing but the Lord.

(translated from Sindhi by D. H. Butani)

Legacy of Shah Latif is a recent book on Bhitai’s life and works. In a recent book review, Anwar Abro writes:

“Two and a half centuries after his death, the celebrated Sindhi philosopher-poet Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai (1689-1752 AD) continues to inspire and influence the lives and activities of the peace-loving mystic souls of Sindh. Intellectual activities, social, political or ideological discourses are considered meaningless without the recitation of his poetry. Shah Latif has become an essential part of the day-to-day life of the people of Sindh so much so that everyone wants to find out more about his life, his principles and beliefs and discover the true interpretation of his mesmerisingly meaningful poetry…”

read more here

Picture above right is courtesy Himal Magazine

As I recited Bulleh Shah’s poetry this evening, a friend sent a link to another video of Abida Parveen singing Bulleh’s mystic poetry in her inimitable style. Lo and behold, I also found an online translation of the verse:

Here is a translation of the verse rendered in this video:

O Physician, come back! my life is ebbing away.
Compelled by love, I dance, I dance.

This love has set up camp inside me.
It is I, who filled the cup with this poison and drank it.
Come back right away, else, I will surely die.
Compelled by love, I dance, I dance.

The sun has set, its glow remains.
Grant me a sight of you again! I would die for it!
What a mistake I made, not going with you.
Compelled by love I dance, I dance.

Mother do not bar me from this love.
Whoever turns back unloaded boats that have left?
How foolish I was, not going with the boatman.
Compelled by love I dance, I dance.

Peacocks sing in the groves of love.
My beautiful beloved is my Ka’ba, my Qibla.
He injured me, then turned away.
Compelled by love I dance, I dance.

Bullhe Shah, I sit at Inayat’s door,
He clothed me in robes of green and red.
When I stamped my heel, I found him.
Compelled by love I dance, I dance.

(and now the video).

Here is the source of translation

For another version of Punjabi and English, please click here.

Mayank Austen Soofi in Delhi is an interesting character. A good writer and a prolific blogger, he is also fascinated by Pakistan. One of his blogs is called Pakistan Paindabad.

Read article here >>