@autisticgrandson
har ek dīda-e-pur-āb ek jaisā hai
har ek ḳhayāl, har ek ḳhvāb ek jaisā hai
agar hai farq kahīñ par toh be-irāda hai
ke mere shāhoñ kī ta’dād kuchh ziyāda hai
Every tear-filled eye is just the same,
every thought, every dream is just the same.
If there is a difference anywhere, it is unintentional—
it is only that the number of my "kings" is a bit too many.
– Zehra Nigah, Iran
A couplet by Mir came to my mind.
sirhāne 'mīr' ke koī na bolo
abhī Tuk rote rote so gayā hai
So beautiful.
tere a.adā ne kiyā ek filistīñ barbād
mere zaḳhmoñ ne kiye kitne filistīñ ābād
– Faiz
ḳhvāhī ki shifā bāshad bīmār-e-mohabbat rā
yak jur'a ḳhudā rā deh az sharbat-e-dīdāre
– Khusrau
charāgh-i somnāt ast ātash-i tūr
buwad zān har jihat rā nūr dar nūr
The Fire of Sinai is [the same as] the Lamp of Somnath;
Because of that, every direction is filled with light upon light.
– Orfi Shirazi
shuniidah-am ke nabiinii o naa-umiid niiyam
nadiidan-e tu shuniidam shuniidanam banigar
I have heard you won't look at me and yet i am not hopeless
I have heard your "not seeing" now behold my "hearing"
– Ghalib
o bideshi saiyaan, ab ke saawan ghar aaja.
will forever remember Kedarnath Singh for writing
"मैं जा रही हूँ—उसने कहा
जाओ—मैंने उत्तर दिया
यह जानते हुए कि जाना
हिंदी की सबसे ख़ौफ़नाक क्रिया है।"
God doesn't exist. He can't understand my love for Urdu, Hindi, English, Persian, Bengali and Kashmiri literature. He can't understand that I have no idea why I refer to him as a 'he'. Does God have a gender?
Reminds me of what Kabir wrote:-
maala pheruuN na kar japuuN aur mukh se kahuuN na raam
raam humaara humeN jape hum paayo bisraam
bhala huaa mori maala tuuTii maiN raam bhajan se chhuuTi
more sar se Talii balaa, Kabira
today, a poem by hafez came to my mind.
hama shab darīñ umīmad ki nasīm-e-sub.h-gāhī
ba-payām-e-āshnā.ī ba-navāzad iiñ gadā rā
All night long, I live in the hope that the morning breeze will bring a message from the One I know, and grace this humble beggar with its touch.
Which reminds me of what Mir wrote:
mizhgān-e-tar ko yār ke chehre pe khol 'mīr'
is-aab KHastā sabze ko Tuk āftāb de
open those tear-ridden eyelashes on the face of your beloved, o mir
let the sun finally shine on this grass, drowning in its own rain