Na kisi ki aankh ka nuur huun



Na Kisi Ki Aankh Ka Noor Hoon
Na Kisi Ke Dil Ka Qarar Hoon
Jo Kisi Ke Kaam Na Aa Sake
Main Woh Ek Mushth-E-Ghubaar Hoon
Na Kisi Ki Aankh Ka Noor Hoon

I am not the light of anyone’s eyes,

Not a harbinger of peace to someone’s heart,

Not of any use to any one,

But just a handful of dust.
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Na To Main Kisi Ka Habeeb Hoon
Na To Main Kisi Ka Raqeeb Hoon
Jo Bigad Chala Gaya Woh Naseeb Hoon Jo Ujad Gaya Woh Dayaar Hoon

I am lover of no one,

I am rival of no one,

I am the fate of my ruins,

I am the river of a wilderness.

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Mera Rang Roop Bigad Gaya
Mera Yaar Muhjse Bichad Gaya
Jo Chaman Khizaan Mein Ujad Gaya
Main Usi Ki Fasl-e-Bahar Hoon

My colors of self-image are now gone,

My beloved from me is now stranded away.

The garden which the spring turned into wilderness,

I am the spring harvest of that garden now.
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Pae- Faatiha Koyi Aaye Kyon
Koyi Chaar Phool Chadaye Kyon
Koyi Aake Shama Jalaye Kyon
Main Woh Be-Kasi Ka Mazaar Hoon

Why should anyone sing a requiem?

Why should anyone place four flowers on my tomb?

Zafar asks: why should anyone shed tears,

As I’m buried helplessly in a vault underground.
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Not translated and not in these poems
nahin huun naghma-e-jaaN fizaa; koi sun ke mujh ko karega kya?
main baRe biruug ki huun sada, kisi dil jale ki pukaar huun.

I am not a life-giving verse,

No use to someone who listens to me.

I am a cry in the wilderness,

A call of a heart gone on flames.


Mein kaha rahoon mein kaha basoon
na ye mujhse kush na wo mujhse kush
Mein jameen ki peeth ka bhoj huun
Mein palak ke dil ka ghubaar huun

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Abu Zafar Sirajuddin Muhammad Bahadur Shah Zafar also known as Bahadur Shah or Bahadur Shah II was the last of the Mughal emperors in India, as well as the last ruler of the Timurid Dynasty . He was the son of Akbar Shah II by his Hindu wife Lalbai

Because Zafar's court was the court of Zauq and Ghalib;was the greatest love poet in Urdu, and arguably the greatest modern Indian poet in any language. Along with Zauq, Zafar's court is responsible for some of the greatest poetry written in modern India.This last moment of Mughal Delhi is one of the most culturally and intellectually exciting of any of the periods of Mughal rule. And Zafar is at the centre of this

Zafar himself is a remarkable calligrapher; in Zafar's poetic notebooks, even if you can't read the Urdu, you can see the impression of inspiration pouring onto the page, of this man filling couplet after couplet, line after line, in every available corner of space.

It was Zafar's fate to live to see the extraordinary reversal of fortunes between his dynasty and the East India Company.But by the time that Zafar was born, and certainly by the time of 1832, that vast empire has shrunk down to the walls of the Red Fort. Zafar is born in 1775 when the East India Company was still really only a coastal power, with factories and forts in Calcutta, Madras and Bombay, but within this one man's life he lives to see his own dynasty shrink down to the Red Fort, while the East India Company transforms itself from a trading organisation into an aggressively expansionist military force.
And poor old Zafar, by the time he comes to throne aged 63 already an old man, a grey-bearded man, who inherits virtually nothing, an empty treasury, no army, no empire, and only the prestige of the name of the Mughals to differentiate him in any way from a small prince in Rajasthan or something, Zafar none the less it is his huge achievement to provoke and act as a catalyst for a really remarkable last renaissance in Delhi: a last great flickering of the Mughal lamp before it's extinguished.

And if Zafar had died in 1856 he would be remembered as one of the most remarkable men of his great dynasty. It was his fate however to live to be on the throne during this great catastrophic uprising. And exactly the same qualities which made him such a remarkable ruler for the period before the uprising and such a cultural catalyst were the very qualities that made him a quite spectactularly unsuitable leader during a time of military revolt. Mystic poets rarely make great generals, particularly when they're 82 years old! And this was certainly the case with poor old Zafar.

And he had that terrible fate of living not only to see most his sons killed before he himself dies, but to see this entire city that he has nourished and beautified with gardens, the poetry and the culture which he has exemplified, completely destroyed.

Bahadur Shah Zafar dies in exile, banished to a prison in Rangoon, and his body is tipped into an anonymous grave, and the turf carefully replaced so that within a month or two no mark will remain to indicate the place of burial.

The following famous poem was written by Bahadur Shah Zafar as his epitaph; this is an English translation.
English Translation


EPITAPH


My heart is not happy in this despoiled land
Who has ever felt fulfilled in this transient world

The nightingale laments neither to the gardener nor to the hunter
Imprisonment was written in fate in the season of spring

Tell these emotions to go dwell elsewhere
Where is there space for them in this besmirched (bloodied) heart?

I had requested for a long life a life of four days
Two passed by in pining, and two in waiting.

He pathetically concluded his poems with this couplet:

Hai kitna badnaseeb Zafar, dafan ke liye
Do gaz zameenj bhi na milee kooi yar main


How unlucky is Zafar! For burial
Even two yards of land were not to be had, in the land (of the) beloved.

har ek baat pah kahte ho tum kih tuu kyaa hai
tumhii;N kaho kih yih andaaz-e guftaguu kyaa hai

at every utterance you say, 'what are you?!'
you yourself say-- what is this style of speech?

rago;N me;N dau;Rte phirne ke ham nahii;N qaa))il
jab aa;Nkh se hii nah ;Tapkaa to phir lahuu kyaa hai

we are not convinced of [its] running and coursing through the veins
when it did/would not drip from the eye itself/alone, then-- it's not blood at all!

jalaa hai jism jahaa;N dil bhii jal gayaa hogaa
kuredte ho jo ab raakh justajuu kyaa hai

where the body has burned, the heart too will have burned

since you now rake/poke the ashes, what is the 'search' [for]?
if you now rake/poke the ashes-- this is hardly a 'search'!

rahii nah :taaqat-e guftaar aur agar ho bhii
to kis umiid pah kahye kih aarzuu kyaa hai

strength for/of speech did not remain; and even if it would exist

with/upon what hope/expectation would you say, 'what is [your] longing?'
with/upon what hope/expectation would you say what your longing is?

dil-e naadaa;N tujhe hu))aa kyaa hai
a;xir is dard kii davaa kyaa hai

ignorant/naive heart, what's happened to you?
after all, what's the cure for this pain?

ham hai;N mushtaaq aur vuh bezaar
yaa il;aahii yih maajraa kyaa hai

we are ardent; and she, disaffected
oh God, what is this state of affairs?!


ham ko un se vafaa kii hai ummiid
jo nahii;N jaante vafaa kyaa hai

we hope for faithfulness from that one
who doesn't know what faithfulness is


mai;N ne maanaa kih kuchh nahii;N ;Gaalib
muft haath aa))e to buraa kyaa hai
I agree that Ghalib is nothing
if you'd get him for free, then what's {the harm / so bad}?

kahuu;N jo ;haal to kahte ho mudda((aa kahiye
tumhii;N kaho kih jo tum yuu;N kaho to kyaa kahiye

when I would say my condition, then you say, 'Please say your purpose'
you yourself say: if you would {say this / speak like this}, then what can one say?

jo mudda((ii bane us ke nah mudda((ii baniye
jo naasazaa kahe us ko nah naasazaa kahiye

if someone would become an enemy, don't you become an enemy of him/her
if someone-X would become an enemy of someone-Y, don't become an enemy {of someone-X / of someone-Y} yourself
if someone would become an enemy-- let him not become an enemy of her!

if someone would say something unworthy, don't you say something unworthy to him/her
if someone-X would call [someone-Y] unworthy, don't call {someone-X / someone-Y} unworthy
if someone would call someone unworthy-- let him not call her unworthy!

rahe nah jaan to qaatil ko ;xuu;N-bahaa diije
ka;Te zabaan to ;xanjar ko mar;habaa kahiye

if life would not remain, then let the murderer be given the blood-price
if the tongue would be cut out, then say 'welcome/bravo' to the dagger


nahii;N bahaar ko fur.sat nah ho bahaar to hai
:taraavat-e chaman-o-;xuubii-e havaa kahiye

if spring/flourishingness would not have leisure, let it not; after all, it's spring/flourishingness
speak of the verdure/juiciness of the garden and the excellence of air/love/desire

safiinah jab kih kinaare pah aa lagaa ;Gaalib
;xudaa se kyaa sitam-o-jor-e naa-;xudaa kahiye

since the ship has come and docked at the shore, Ghalib

will you tell the Lord about the cruelty and oppression of the {pilot / ship-lord}?
what! will you tell the Lord about the cruelty and oppression of the {pilot / ship-lord}?!
how you will tell the Lord about the cruelty and oppression of the {pilot / ship-lord}!

naqsh faryaadii hai kis kii sho;xii-e ta;hriir kaa
kaa;Ga;zii hai pairahan har paikar-e ta.sviir kaa

about whose mischievousness of writing is the image/painting a plaintiff?
of paper is the robe of every figure of the picture

kaav-kaav-e sa;xt-jaaniihaa-e tanhaa))ii nah puuchh
.sub;h karnaa shaam kaa laanaa hai juu-e shiir kaa

don't ask about digging through the tough-lifednesses of solitude!
don't ask about the digging done by the tough-lifednesses of solitude!

to make daybreak from night is the bringing of the river of milk

ja;zbah-e be-i;xtiyaar-e shauq dekhaa chaahiye
siinah-e shamshiir se baahar hai dam shamshiir kaa

the uncontrolled/uncontrollable emotion of ardor-- it's worth seeing!
the breath/life/edge of the sword is outside the sword's breast

baskih huu;N ;Gaalib asiirii me;N bhii aatish zer-e paa
muu-e aatish-diidah hai ;halqah mirii zanjiir kaa

Ghalib, even in bondage I am {restless / 'fire-under-foot'} to such an extent
Ghalib, although even in bondage I am {restless / 'fire-under-foot'}

a link of my chain is a {singed hair / 'hair-that-has-seen-fire'}
a {singed hair / 'hair-that-has-seen-fire'} is a link of my chain

nuktah-chii;N hai ;Gam-e dil us ko sunaa))e nah bane
kyaa bane baat jahaa;N baat banaa))e nah bane

she's a nit-picker; the grief of the heart wouldn't be able to be narrated to her
how would a thing succeed, where a thing having been contrived/fabricated wouldn't succeed?

;Gair phirtaa hai liye yuu;N tire ;xa:t ko kih agar
ko))ii puuchhe kih yih kyaa hai to chhupaa))e nah bane

the Other wanders around carrying your letter in such a way that if
anyone would ask, 'What's this?', then it wouldn't be able to be hidden

mai;N bulaataa to huu;N us ko magar ay ja;zbah-e dil
us pah ban jaa))e kuchh aisii kih bin aa))e nah bane

I do call her, but, oh passion of the heart,
may something come over her, such that she can't stand not to come!

((ishq par zor nahii;N hai yih vuh aatish ;Gaalib
kih lagaa))e nah lage aur bujhaa))e nah bane

there's no control/power over passion-- this is that fire, Ghalib
that having been lit, would not catch fire; and having been extinguished, would not become [successfully extinguished]

lovely ghazals you can never forget

enjoy the wonderful ghazal duets at tea time

These are nice to listen ,all are by jagjit

Beware of these ghazals,may drag you into the swiveling blackholes of melancholy

lata,chitra,asha

Ghazal is a poetic form consisting of couplets which share a rhyme and a refrain.Ghazals are traditionally expressions of love, separation and loneliness, for which the gazelle(Etymologically, the word literally refers to "the mortal cry of a gazelle". The animal is caled Ghizaal, from which the English word gazelles stems, or Kastori haran (where haran refers to deer) in Urdu) is an appropriate image. A ghazal can thus be understood as a poetic expression of both the pain of loss or separation and the beauty of love in spite of that pain. The form is ancient, originating in 10th century Persian verse. It is derived from the Persian QASDIA(is a form of poetry from pre-Islamic Arabia).