Broken English and Roman Urdu, pressed in to a truculent accord in this page for myself,my friends and those interested in what I do and think. I look forward to your comments.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Horrible Poetry
I had a real friend who later turned imaginary
A chap with disposition rather dromedary
Cheesed off with my tongue rather blunt
He felt he needed to pull this tasteless stunt
Restrict friends and hide oneself away
On facebook's easily possible today
But the question that deigns to be asked
Why was this subterfuge so blithey tasked
Ah! I see that we share some groups
My comments critiques taken to be rebukes
My corrections I didn't know were unwelcome
Now straight talk I have totally dumped
All I now offer is applause and appreciation
Be it a verse trite or banal pontification
And if I don't understand something
I just keep quiet. Its okay not knowing
And when the pompous fools jabber about
With fucked-up language and blow their spout
I just ignore this in the interest of peace
Don't throw me out of this group o please
I have pissed many people off I know
Only because those who should say no
Have led the deluded into believing
Their words have weight of thoughts in sieving
But it keeps me up at nights this pandering deceit
Language curses me for letting plant the seed
'What for I am' seething blindingly this way
There's no grammar discipline or metered array
Why is it that those who should know better
base the praise on the topic not verse or letter
If form is not important and topic adequate
Why not just write it down and exclaimate
This is no poem but a warning call
Let's see by morning who's first to bawl
Quateel Ahmad
Dec 2012
He felt he needed to pull this tasteless stunt
Restrict friends and hide oneself away
On facebook's easily possible today
But the question that deigns to be asked
Why was this subterfuge so blithey tasked
Ah! I see that we share some groups
My comments critiques taken to be rebukes
My corrections I didn't know were unwelcome
Now straight talk I have totally dumped
All I now offer is applause and appreciation
Be it a verse trite or banal pontification
And if I don't understand something
I just keep quiet. Its okay not knowing
And when the pompous fools jabber about
With fucked-up language and blow their spout
I just ignore this in the interest of peace
Don't throw me out of this group o please
I have pissed many people off I know
Only because those who should say no
Have led the deluded into believing
Their words have weight of thoughts in sieving
But it keeps me up at nights this pandering deceit
Language curses me for letting plant the seed
'What for I am' seething blindingly this way
There's no grammar discipline or metered array
Why is it that those who should know better
base the praise on the topic not verse or letter
If form is not important and topic adequate
Why not just write it down and exclaimate
This is no poem but a warning call
Let's see by morning who's first to bawl
Quateel Ahmad
Dec 2012
Friday, November 23, 2012
Kya zaroori hai
Tujhse mohabbat is dil ki majboori hai.
Kya yeh adaa e berukhi zaroori hai
Chaand aur sooraj bhi ek ho jaate hain
Dilon ka garhan lagna kya zaroori hai
Har maikade mein tu dikhaayi deta hai
Hosh khone ko uska hona zaroori hai
Hausle ko mere farogh dete hain
Mera girna jinke liye zaroori hai
Mausam e gul mein sirf kaliyaan hain
Is soorat e haal mein dakhal zaroori hai
Dast-bardaar na ho itni jaldi mein
Bojh ki nazaakat samajhna zaroori hai
Quateel Ahmad
12 November 2012
Har maikade mein tu dikhaayi deta hai
Hosh khone ko uska hona zaroori hai
Hausle ko mere farogh dete hain
Mera girna jinke liye zaroori hai
Mausam e gul mein sirf kaliyaan hain
Is soorat e haal mein dakhal zaroori hai
Dast-bardaar na ho itni jaldi mein
Bojh ki nazaakat samajhna zaroori hai
Quateel Ahmad
12 November 2012
Labels:
aashiane mein sajaaya kya kya,
ghazal,
milay thay..,
movie reviews,
nazm,
Phone per karta hai baat,
poem,
poetry,
quateel ahmad,
saawan,
THE POETRY BOOK,
urdu poetry,
urdu short story,
wo ladki
Ashiaane mein sajaaya kya kya
Ashiaane mein sajaaya kya kya
khwaab dekhe to sazaa kya kya
Ek chhoti is humne baat kahi
Matlab dekho nikaalein kya kya
Hum hi hai jo khayaal rakhte hain
Waise keh jaate hain log kya kya
Bada saada sa khat likhkha aur
Ki namabar ko nasihat kya kya
Achcha hota jo tum bhi pee lete
Lutf nashe ke bataain kya kya
Sab hi yahan meherbaan apne
Guman ye dekho sikhaaye kya kya
Ek moorat teri banaane ko
Mitti mein milaaun kya kya
Laute bhi us gali se 'Quateel'
Jaley kya aur bujhaaye kya kya
Quateel Ahmad
26 October 2012
Hum hi hai jo khayaal rakhte hain
Waise keh jaate hain log kya kya
Bada saada sa khat likhkha aur
Ki namabar ko nasihat kya kya
Achcha hota jo tum bhi pee lete
Lutf nashe ke bataain kya kya
Sab hi yahan meherbaan apne
Guman ye dekho sikhaaye kya kya
Ek moorat teri banaane ko
Mitti mein milaaun kya kya
Laute bhi us gali se 'Quateel'
Jaley kya aur bujhaaye kya kya
Quateel Ahmad
26 October 2012
I Am Black
There is a leitmotif
Of arrogance and ignorance
In your honest friendly nature
You want to erase all sense
Of impropriety and savage conduct
by giving me new appellations
I used to be known as a negro
Or Black
or colored even
for those who wanted to
Capture the varying shades
Of my beautiful existence
But they made it hell
Picked on, slaved, beaten
Raped, murdered and sold
all because they could.
All this while they were saving my soul
With their own god and ways
I didn't mind
I came to this big country
Which I first landed on
with fettered feet
But when I sang
God listened
When I walked
Breeze was born
And when I ran
Deer looked at me with awe
I was a specimen like no other
In chains when no one else was
I was black and that was that
That was a long time ago
And today I am as much a part
Of this land as any other
The bones of my great ancestors
Is in this earth
Rivers here I have bathed in
Fields tilled and fish caught
animals reared and slaughtered
Married and children begot
Then some kind souls want to
Wash away old sins of others
Make me want to forget the torments
Linked with my black negro being
Decide to call me African American
I am at once proud of my proud lineage
My people, Africa and a smile
Till I think about it.
Is my being American
not halved by being called thus
Is this any way to address people
Most who have never been to Africa
Chinese Amercian, Asian American,
Japanese American, Indian, Pakistani,
What lies behind these names?
Are citizens of Indian, Pakistani and Latino
race not American?
Why is a person Chinese American yet another African American? Does it matter if Chinese are confused with Korean American, Hmong and Vietnamese or Filipino...
But more than anything else
Why don't we have Irish Americans,
Italian Americans, German Americans,
French Americans, Polish Americans
Czech Americans and of course English Americans
They are all simply described as white
Or even more simply as Americans.
So I would rather be called a black American.
Or just an American
I am from here and nowhere else
I am not going to be caught up in platitudes
created by weak or evil minds
So I have decided that I will write my name
And my colour is for all to see
Don't nigger me for I am Black
And the world is happily black brown yellow red and white
And all shades in between.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
As good as it gets
We only have ourselves to blame
Our pleasant togetherness
was that drifted us apart,
We had what was good,
but needed more,
Harboured incredulous notions
of love passion fed
by movies by books,
By words of twisted poets heavenly sublime
I wanted us to be better
You wanted us to be perfect
Neither seeing what we were, are
hunger for a greater love
became its very poison
Today passing through the shadows
Of fleeting relationships
Of veneers of attachments and likes
Of lusts and pitys
Realise far from each other
That thing we had
Was as good as it gets
Feb 7, 2011
Our pleasant togetherness
was that drifted us apart,
We had what was good,
but needed more,
Harboured incredulous notions
of love passion fed
by movies by books,
By words of twisted poets heavenly sublime
I wanted us to be better
You wanted us to be perfect
Neither seeing what we were, are
hunger for a greater love
became its very poison
Today passing through the shadows
Of fleeting relationships
Of veneers of attachments and likes
Of lusts and pitys
Realise far from each other
That thing we had
Was as good as it gets
Feb 7, 2011
Friday, October 19, 2012
KYA BAN KE
Mil naseeb ban ke
Bol saaz ban ke
Baras abr ban ke
Taras pyar ban ke
So bachcha ban ke
Sun mann ban ke
Naach khushi ban ke
Chadh jawaani ban ke
Thehar gham ban ke
Jaag ishq ban ke
Badal mausam ban ke
Bichad saathi ban ke
Jee dariyaa ban ke
Mar khwahish ban ke
Quateel Ahmad
18 October 2012
Bol saaz ban ke
Baras abr ban ke
Taras pyar ban ke
So bachcha ban ke
Sun mann ban ke
Naach khushi ban ke
Chadh jawaani ban ke
Thehar gham ban ke
Jaag ishq ban ke
Badal mausam ban ke
Bichad saathi ban ke
Jee dariyaa ban ke
Mar khwahish ban ke
Quateel Ahmad
18 October 2012
Thursday, October 11, 2012
ODE TO JOY
And this is how the story went
From lofty palace to tattered tent
A wave had risen unexplained
Of Joy strong jagged unplaned
It just ran right through the world
Bowed rivers great and brooks curl'd
In mountains of snow skin and fire blood
Through fecund fields of redding mud
Grew to be like an endless shore
Then came and sat on Heart's floor
Who let it rule from that small deep seat
And other Emotions felt unjust the treat
Joy was restless it needed space
To break the walls and be a flighty grace
Sorrow vowed to change make
To run Joy out and its place take
Fear and Despair flew Sorrow's banner
Anxiety and Pain in similar manner
Joy the strongest took no heed
A friend the wanderer didn't need
Since then the battle rages on
Joy leaves the heart and is unbound
Still it reigns when it returns
Sorrow and Joy rule Heart by turns
Quateel Ahmad
Dec 2011
THE DRUMMER
Lies in state resplendent
his old uniform brassy
Shined to a gleam
By someone I don't know
The flies buzz around
Its hot, the power's out
So far he's the only one
Not sweating or cursing
Probably at peace
Probably
The parlor window overlooks
The road to the cemetery
And in the verandah outside
The bench favoured by him
And his band
Where they smoked cigarettes.
Waiting to lead the final journeys
Disuse now writ upon the old bench
there is soft rubbery wood rust
that shows up after the rains
and just stays
Dries and darkens
Like the future of many
Of the perils a long life
the risk of loneliness is the biggest
He would recall certain days and deaths
With sadness and pride
When he led columns of hundreds
And of times when tears didn't dry
Its changing world this is
the young have no clue
Of the proper ways to death
And before that what it is to do
The drummer knew that and more
The town now full of strangers
The parish thin and weakening
The Bugler was the only one left
A wheezer with just half a lung
The wake seems long
And the arrivals few
Some just happened to be
so will stay for the final trip
Those who walk into the parlor
See pictures brought by the son
A life faded but vigorous once
A war and a wedding
some shiny shoes
Some gummy smiles
Him doing the jive
It is time and the Bugler makes
A sorrowful call clear and powerful
Eyes watering from pain
Of lung or bereavement
Who can tell
The body is placed
In Lobo's hearse,
newly repainted
Fittingly
The mourners numbers swell
Every household in the village
Is present here in flesh
And many more in spirit
All ready to go but none moving yet
Till the Drummer's son picks up
The drum and sticks and is adamant
Starts the final journey
His paced out beat not clearly struck
But timed perfectly
A lifetime of listening at work
The Drummer seems at peace
And his final journey marches
To the beat of a different drummer
Quateel Ahmad
2012
his old uniform brassy
Shined to a gleam
By someone I don't know
The flies buzz around
Its hot, the power's out
So far he's the only one
Not sweating or cursing
Probably at peace
Probably
The parlor window overlooks
The road to the cemetery
And in the verandah outside
The bench favoured by him
And his band
Where they smoked cigarettes.
Waiting to lead the final journeys
Disuse now writ upon the old bench
there is soft rubbery wood rust
that shows up after the rains
and just stays
Dries and darkens
Like the future of many
Of the perils a long life
the risk of loneliness is the biggest
He would recall certain days and deaths
With sadness and pride
When he led columns of hundreds
And of times when tears didn't dry
Its changing world this is
the young have no clue
Of the proper ways to death
And before that what it is to do
The drummer knew that and more
The town now full of strangers
The parish thin and weakening
The Bugler was the only one left
A wheezer with just half a lung
The wake seems long
And the arrivals few
Some just happened to be
so will stay for the final trip
Those who walk into the parlor
See pictures brought by the son
A life faded but vigorous once
A war and a wedding
some shiny shoes
Some gummy smiles
Him doing the jive
It is time and the Bugler makes
A sorrowful call clear and powerful
Eyes watering from pain
Of lung or bereavement
Who can tell
The body is placed
In Lobo's hearse,
newly repainted
Fittingly
The mourners numbers swell
Every household in the village
Is present here in flesh
And many more in spirit
All ready to go but none moving yet
Till the Drummer's son picks up
The drum and sticks and is adamant
Starts the final journey
His paced out beat not clearly struck
But timed perfectly
A lifetime of listening at work
The Drummer seems at peace
And his final journey marches
To the beat of a different drummer
Quateel Ahmad
2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
DISDAIN
The spirituality you seek is just as ethereal
so why disdain the things that are material
Why does transigence bother you o mortal
The fibre of our being its the very material
Auspices stars omens signs everywhere
Rises self-belief makes it all immaterial
In a moment all resistance capitulate
On lover's glance not orders ministerial
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
KAM HAI
Jitna bhi kiya hua kam hai
Ab chalne ko raasta kam hai
Kehte hain badaa hai dil uska
Is marz ki to davaa kam hai
Rai leta hoon apne chhoton se
Unmein ajza e raaegan kam hai
Jo muskuraaye apni aankhon se
Dil main uske maiyl kam hai
Kayi hain ab haqdaar iske
Aur pyaar mujhe mila kam hai
Maine keh diya tha sabkuch
Wo kehte hain likha kam hai
Ab chalne ko raasta kam hai
Kehte hain badaa hai dil uska
Is marz ki to davaa kam hai
Rai leta hoon apne chhoton se
Unmein ajza e raaegan kam hai
Jo muskuraaye apni aankhon se
Dil main uske maiyl kam hai
Kayi hain ab haqdaar iske
Aur pyaar mujhe mila kam hai
Maine keh diya tha sabkuch
Wo kehte hain likha kam hai
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Sulagta hai dil
Sulagta hai dil to karta hai sawaal bhi,
mohabbat mein aati hai subh e zavaal bhi
khamoshi mein hain pardadari ki alamatein,
tanhaiyon main panapte hain malaal bhi
muskurate ho ab bhi baatein karte ho,
rakhte ho dil mein bewafa khayal bhi
gile kya karun tum se kya shikayatein,
sannaate bhi hain sukoon la muhaal bhi
nibah rahe hain is salikay se rasm e duniya,
guzre chand roz phir mahine aur saal bhi
main apna haal e dil bayaan na kar paoon,
teri ankhen bhi khushk hain laal bhi
mohabbat mein aati hai subh e zavaal bhi
khamoshi mein hain pardadari ki alamatein,
tanhaiyon main panapte hain malaal bhi
muskurate ho ab bhi baatein karte ho,
rakhte ho dil mein bewafa khayal bhi
gile kya karun tum se kya shikayatein,
sannaate bhi hain sukoon la muhaal bhi
nibah rahe hain is salikay se rasm e duniya,
guzre chand roz phir mahine aur saal bhi
main apna haal e dil bayaan na kar paoon,
teri ankhen bhi khushk hain laal bhi
Labels:
ashaar,
better poetry,
Free verse ghazal?,
ghazal,
heartbreak poetry,
nazm,
Qateel poetry,
quateel ahmad,
Quateel poetry,
saawan,
shairy,
Shayri,
sher,
sulagta hai dil,
THE POETRY BOOK,
urdu poetry
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Another sher
Hum ne ek doosre se kuch chupaaya bhi nahin,
Usne kuch poocha nahin maine bataaya bhi nahin
Usne kuch poocha nahin maine bataaya bhi nahin
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Kya Karun
Husn e jaana ki
taareef main kya shuru karun,
khatm na ho jo baat main kya shuru karun
Kamzarf se samandar labon pe beqarar,
Ab apne khayalon ko kya beabroo karun
Wo ghazal ke maiyne poochta hai mujhse,
Ab aaine se main use kya roobaroo karun
Sachchai ne nawaaza hai tanhayi se mujhe
Kyun na meetha bolna main bhi shuru karun
Karne ke waaste mujhko baatein hazaar hain
Har baar talkhiyon ko hi kyun surkhroo karun
Mardood e adab mein Quateel apna shumar hai
Is bujhi kalam se kise kya khushroo karun
khatm na ho jo baat main kya shuru karun
Kamzarf se samandar labon pe beqarar,
Ab apne khayalon ko kya beabroo karun
Wo ghazal ke maiyne poochta hai mujhse,
Ab aaine se main use kya roobaroo karun
Sachchai ne nawaaza hai tanhayi se mujhe
Kyun na meetha bolna main bhi shuru karun
Karne ke waaste mujhko baatein hazaar hain
Har baar talkhiyon ko hi kyun surkhroo karun
Mardood e adab mein Quateel apna shumar hai
Is bujhi kalam se kise kya khushroo karun
Monday, April 30, 2012
Maikhaana
Maikade mein le zehen behosh aata hai
Jaam uthaane per hi usko hosh aata hai
Dastoor-e-mai jaanta hoon main faqat itna
Chadti hai usko ghoont jo ghutne ko aata hai
zubaan larzey na kabhi hain pair lad'khadate
Fun ye maahir zinda kharaabon ko aata hai
Dil kiye pathhar sile lab liye dinbhar
Har shaam wo jaise khulne ko aata hai
Kabhi shab e vasl kabhi subh e shaad
Paymana wohi naya manzar roz dikhaata hai
Jaam uthaane per hi usko hosh aata hai
Dastoor-e-mai jaanta hoon main faqat itna
Chadti hai usko ghoont jo ghutne ko aata hai
zubaan larzey na kabhi hain pair lad'khadate
Fun ye maahir zinda kharaabon ko aata hai
Dil kiye pathhar sile lab liye dinbhar
Har shaam wo jaise khulne ko aata hai
Kabhi shab e vasl kabhi subh e shaad
Paymana wohi naya manzar roz dikhaata hai
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Random 'Free' Thoughts
And it is that time of the year again. When we as a nation lament and
berate, enjoy and celebrate our being a country. When channels rerun
Gandhi the movie and news channels have panel discussions on why we
should leave him behind.
An honest man with a just demand in a
completely unreasonable format sticks out his chin, leaving people like
me in a dilemma. The rest of the junta is quick to jump to his cause,
little realising what he basically wants is a violation of democracy as
constituted here. The party in power is not clean and any reasonable
route closed by the crusader. He is a simple man who wants a simple
solution. And he is willing to die for it. Good for him and I can only
pray that the disaffected throngs who gravitate to him realise what's
happening. But have no hope of that happening.
I cannot condone
the ruling alliance for fear of being riled by my fellow civil society
members as being corrupt. it seems if you are not caught up in the
hubris of anti corruption debate and lost all sense...then you are not
worthy of this freedom that many people have given their lives for.
This brings me to the next topic. In these times we see people (poets
specially) sing paens to those soldiers who laid down their life for the
country. What I can't fathom is why now? Is it less important on other
days? Or more important today? When such overwhelming collective
reverence takes place in this country it will mean only one thing. It
will be forgotten the next day till the next independence day. And my
emotional junta that sings aye mere watan ke logon proudly with a tear
gleaming... Doesn't really know what freedom means. India got freedom
from the british in a largely unmilitary fashion. The soldiers who
fought for the country did so in wars and skirmishes with the
neighbours.
So is independence day remembrance indicative of
military achievements? How soviet of us to do so! And the whupping the
chinese meted out to us is termed 'sacrifice'. While 71 is termed as
military superiority. The idiocy of the masses is truly supreme. The
chinese are getting ready once again and looks like our pants are down
again. Low number of aircraft, specious border connectivity, which is a
ridiculous border to begin with.
What bards dream of epics to
unleash on this day. Tales to rend hearts and move minds to mush. When
you talk to soldiers you realise they know what they are getting into. I
will never forget a train journey I shared with a soldier. It was the
quietest one I've had. I asked him where he had been. He was with IPKF
in Lanka and although he did not speak much his eyes spoke of lost
comarades and faulty intel inputs. Misadventures by a dilletante PM and
pain of lost comrades. But still the guy was not feeling too noble. He
did his job quietly collected his pay. If public adulation is what the
armed forces were after we would be overwhelmed with applications to
join the forces. Not a 30% shortfall in junior and middle level
officers. This same facebooking, twitter typing youth doesn't even
consider the career as the money is more in writing code and even
selling credit on the fone to farmers in Idaho. Jai jawan used to be a
stirring cry in our country. Now it is just a tv programme.
Anna Hazare took the law into his own hands when he burnt down alchohol
stills in his village to make it alchohol free. Today even though it is
your democartic right to drink alchohol in Maharashtra if permitted ,
you cannot in ralegan siddhi... This 'gangajal' style justice may be
what is needed but it cannot be condoned.
True freedom is
independence of thought. Of being able to think for oneself. And seeing
todays herd mentality... I doubt we are free. We are manipulated first
by parents, then by peers and finally by media, the agents of mass
manipulation. To anticipate the next movie, next save the tiger
marathon, the next rozgar yojana and the next Gandhi. We live like
Pavlov's dogs ready to salivate at the next bell.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Holi Masti
Holi ki rangeen jab dete Chahcha badhayee
Padosan dikhe hai pehle, piche apni lugayee
Chamchamati lungi pehin Pehelwan Kallu
moonch per hain tav laaye
jaise kahein 'koi hum par rang daal ke dikhaaye'
Hai! Misrain kaun si saadi pahin hain ayiin?
Bheeg kar gayee aur bhi kas,
Rang maley unko hum khoob jas tas
Rajjo aandhi ki tarah ayee
toofan ki tarah gayee balti bhar ke
syaani ho gayee woh bhi rangon mein phans ke
Kaun kahe hai Baiju se
ghontne ko thandaai
bhaanj rahe hai aise
jaise apne liye hi banayee
Boley mast nayan, jeeb ladkhadaye
ab ki holi maun hain hum
baat mein teri man dooba jaaye
pati aise bhi pad gaye raste
jo itne din baad
patni ko dekha khul ke hanste
Paan lagaa rahe hain tunn Nirale
mal rahe kya chuna katha
moonh mein sabke chaale
In sab drishyon se door Kallu
peete asmanjas ke haale
Keh hi diya "Arre! koi mujhpar bhi rang to dale!'
Padosan dikhe hai pehle, piche apni lugayee
Chamchamati lungi pehin Pehelwan Kallu
moonch per hain tav laaye
jaise kahein 'koi hum par rang daal ke dikhaaye'
Hai! Misrain kaun si saadi pahin hain ayiin?
Bheeg kar gayee aur bhi kas,
Rang maley unko hum khoob jas tas
Rajjo aandhi ki tarah ayee
toofan ki tarah gayee balti bhar ke
syaani ho gayee woh bhi rangon mein phans ke
Kaun kahe hai Baiju se
ghontne ko thandaai
bhaanj rahe hai aise
jaise apne liye hi banayee
Boley mast nayan, jeeb ladkhadaye
ab ki holi maun hain hum
baat mein teri man dooba jaaye
pati aise bhi pad gaye raste
jo itne din baad
patni ko dekha khul ke hanste
Paan lagaa rahe hain tunn Nirale
mal rahe kya chuna katha
moonh mein sabke chaale
In sab drishyon se door Kallu
peete asmanjas ke haale
Keh hi diya "Arre! koi mujhpar bhi rang to dale!'
Sawaal ka sawaal
Sawaal ka sawaal tha jawaab nahin mila mujhe
Jawaab mein kya pata kya mila mujhe
Tunay kya samjha kya payaa mujhe
Jisne mujhe samjha kuch aur hi paaya mujhe
Sulag raha hai dil jo chita ban kar,
Ab ke sawaan dhoondega jaane kaise kahaan mujhe
Jo thi koi baat mujhme khaas bhi,
Ghul gayee hai dhull gayee itna usne rulaya mujhe
Main likhna chahata hoon, aur peese hai zabt mujhe,
Meri kismat ki hunar mila hai kam mujhe
Jawaab mein kya pata kya mila mujhe
Tunay kya samjha kya payaa mujhe
Jisne mujhe samjha kuch aur hi paaya mujhe
Sulag raha hai dil jo chita ban kar,
Ab ke sawaan dhoondega jaane kaise kahaan mujhe
Jo thi koi baat mujhme khaas bhi,
Ghul gayee hai dhull gayee itna usne rulaya mujhe
Main likhna chahata hoon, aur peese hai zabt mujhe,
Meri kismat ki hunar mila hai kam mujhe
Gamla
Ya to uski uljhan la-ilaaj ho jaye
Ya meri ulfat bakamaal ho jaaye
Ek roz to main usse baat karun
Ek din mera bemisaal ho jaye
Kitaabon mein jawaab nahin milta
Humsafar jab sawaal ho jaye
Humsafar jab sawaal ho jaye
Rang badal rahe hai yun paymane
Aaj ka kapoot kal ka laal ho jaye
Aaj ka kapoot kal ka laal ho jaye
Gamle sa jo har ghar ho jaye,
Mehke saari duniya nihaal ho jaye
Mehke saari duniya nihaal ho jaye
Paheli
Hoon sabki ki zaroorat main
par ameeron ki numaish main
Aish nahin na imaan main
Par har gali mein biktaa main
Deen dharam se door hoon main
Mandir masjid ki bheed hun main
Har kadam par saath hun main
Saaye se bhi paas hun main
Ab aur bataana theek nahin
Samajh gaye ho kaun hun main
par ameeron ki numaish main
Aish nahin na imaan main
Par har gali mein biktaa main
Deen dharam se door hoon main
Mandir masjid ki bheed hun main
Har kadam par saath hun main
Saaye se bhi paas hun main
Ab aur bataana theek nahin
Samajh gaye ho kaun hun main
Friday, April 20, 2012
Muyassar nahin mujhko
Muyassar nahin mujhko basafaa hona
qayamat hai sabka raazdan hona
Khelti hai shabnam usi phool pe
jiske labon pe hain isko nihaan hona
Aaj tujhe dekha badi bekaraari se
samjhe kya hai khaaish ka javaan hona
Shay hai jo khuda ki kudrat ki
Dekh rahe hain uska bhi khuda hona
Haal e dil se rooh tak utar jaata hai
Dard ki firtrat mein hai ravaan hona
qayamat hai sabka raazdan hona
Khelti hai shabnam usi phool pe
jiske labon pe hain isko nihaan hona
Aaj tujhe dekha badi bekaraari se
samjhe kya hai khaaish ka javaan hona
Shay hai jo khuda ki kudrat ki
Dekh rahe hain uska bhi khuda hona
Haal e dil se rooh tak utar jaata hai
Dard ki firtrat mein hai ravaan hona
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Smrutiyon ka prabhaav
Smrutiyon ka prabhaav pyaas sa badhta chalaa gayaa
Aur main beete palon ko niglata chala gayaa
Kitno ke pat jhat bund phir kiye
kuch ka tar udhdaa to udhadtaa chalaa gayaa
Kab tak padi rahogi mere paaon mein
Sawaal apni bediyon se main karta chala gayaa
Na shastra na kavach kisi kaam aaye
Is rann mein ajay vahi jo gira aur girtaa chala gayaa
Saath hain to kyun na hum sukhi rahein
Prashn na thaa to chinh kyun lagtaa chalaa gayaa
Phoolon ki sej mein hi thha mere hriday ka shool
Layt'te hi mere wo ghar chalaa gayaa
Aur main beete palon ko niglata chala gayaa
Kitno ke pat jhat bund phir kiye
kuch ka tar udhdaa to udhadtaa chalaa gayaa
Kab tak padi rahogi mere paaon mein
Sawaal apni bediyon se main karta chala gayaa
Na shastra na kavach kisi kaam aaye
Is rann mein ajay vahi jo gira aur girtaa chala gayaa
Saath hain to kyun na hum sukhi rahein
Prashn na thaa to chinh kyun lagtaa chalaa gayaa
Phoolon ki sej mein hi thha mere hriday ka shool
Layt'te hi mere wo ghar chalaa gayaa
Friday, April 13, 2012
Jo tum huay hamare hote
Jo tum huay humaare hote
To apni chatt pe bhi sitaare hote
Josh e tamanna mein duaaon ka asar
Mil jaata to kya nazaare hote
Kuu e yaar aur makan apna
Khoob hota jo ek kinaare hote
Shadab zameen ke daldal dekh lete
to pankh apne na utaare hote
Har jagah phire ho qalam liye 'Quateel'
Hunar zubaan ke bhi to sanwaare hote
To apni chatt pe bhi sitaare hote
Josh e tamanna mein duaaon ka asar
Mil jaata to kya nazaare hote
Kuu e yaar aur makan apna
Khoob hota jo ek kinaare hote
Shadab zameen ke daldal dekh lete
to pankh apne na utaare hote
Har jagah phire ho qalam liye 'Quateel'
Hunar zubaan ke bhi to sanwaare hote
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Subah
Mili hai zindagi to bejaan se na raho
Aur zinda ho to pashemaan se na raho
Waqt ki fitrat mein hai badalna
Har tabdeeli pe hairaan se na raho
Chand ghadiyon ke mehmaan hain gham aur khushi
Mehmaan ke aane par budgumaan se na raho
Jab puchche koi kya hai tumhari marzi
Aise mauke par bezubaan se na raho
Aajki jeeti jaagti tasveer ban kar jiyo
Guzre zamaane ki dastaan se na raho
Friday, March 16, 2012
Mulzim ban gaya badnaam nahi hua
Samaj ke thekedar abhi baithe nahi
sar se khoon ka utar nahi hua
Ishq o aman jisko dekh ke sehem jayen
Samaj ka chehra aisa nahi hua
Malik o mansoor chahe jitna marein nez o sang
aitimad apna be dam nahi hua
Saari mushkile ho jayein asaan
Apna itna sawaab nahi hua,
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Khwab dekha aur tod diya
Ek khwab dekha phir tod diya
khushfehmi se khud ko jhanjhod liya
awara hai badal kabhi laut ta nahi
kitne banjaro ko isne tarasta chhod diya
kinare ko choom rahi thi meri kashti
toofanon mein kisne ise phir mod diya
Haasil mehkashi ka khoob mila mujhe
nashe ne khumaar ko tod diya
Aaye ho to baitho ankhein senk loon
dil ne to ab machalna chod diya
khushfehmi se khud ko jhanjhod liya
awara hai badal kabhi laut ta nahi
kitne banjaro ko isne tarasta chhod diya
kinare ko choom rahi thi meri kashti
toofanon mein kisne ise phir mod diya
Haasil mehkashi ka khoob mila mujhe
nashe ne khumaar ko tod diya
Aaye ho to baitho ankhein senk loon
dil ne to ab machalna chod diya
taaj
Beemar hain kyun bechain mizaaj hai
Dard ki intehaa akhir ilaaj hai
Baatein hain bahot saudagaron ke paas
Khaamosh hai jiske haathon ko kaaj hai
Bookhe bachche royein na kyun yahaan
is mulk mein sare aam sadta anaaj hai
Holi se, phoolon se, kheton se chura ke
rangeen parcham siyasat ka aaj hai
Aa rahe hain dekho waris ehtejaaj ke
Utha ke sar aise jaise zakhm taaj hai
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Auto Reverie and Rant
There it comes again. A new car passes and a whole truck load of
information processing starts again. Like a program, the front, the A
pillar, profile, B pillar and C and boot or hatch are processed and
analysed. It hardly lasts a second but makes me marvel at the way the
brain functions and continues to repeat this exercise. I keep reasoning
with it that since there are so many new cars coming, its pointless. And
furthermore,my work is not of an automotive disposition. So why? Maybe
in search of closure I began writing this piece.
As I was writing, a lancer overtook my car, naturally, this being india from the left and at the same time a Skoda overtook the lancer from its left and immediately, I began imagining the torque graph and gear ratios at play here. Resigning myself to the fate of my automotive memories and with general interest at heart I will write only about design. Of the cars that is.
Growing up in a country that was confused whether it was a socialist country or not, led to a automotively challenged childhood. The heart yearns for stuff it does not get, so all sorts of car books were constantly pored over and the usual suspects overanalysed. Being mumbai, it was largely a Premier city. Kolkata and Delhi were largely Ambassador cities and Chennai was where Standard Heralds were made.
The first big car I regularly heard of was the Impala, then the world's hottest luxury car. Everybody who was anybody had to have one, otherwise they were not really there. Rajesh Khanna had one. So there. But my first encounters were with our landlord's what I think was the Kingsway with its white and acqua two tone colour and big fins, 16 number Ram Uncle's yellow Beetle, and the Landmaster from Ferns Villa. Also, Owen lived next to Ferns Villa and his dad had a real cool Willys Station Wagon. Opposite school under Michelle's house was perenially parked a stately serene black 1966 Mercedes 190 D. The Alves just ahead in the village had a Herald that was more parked than not. In comparison our Fiat 1100, the 'dukkar fiat' as it was uncharitably called in mumbai was quite a commoner in my eyes. There were many others but I remember these. They all were of different vintages and design philosophies but in themselves complete. It is the 190 I think that caused me to go out of whack as far as cars are concerned. Peering over the window sill looking into the gear knob, the chrome plated rings on the intrument panels and the lovely vertical grill with the blue and silver three pointed star decal crowned by the ring.
All through school, newspapers were scoured, magazines torn, posters collected and scrapbooks made. In this scrapbook is my first drawing of my car. A no-nonsense four door endowed with a childish yet learned sense of proportion. We'll call it the X One. More on this later.
The biggest help was the annual issue of World Cars. Every year in January 100 bucks spent on buying it outside Bandra station. We were in the 10th then and Shabbir and I would pore over the issue sitting in his classic Ford Escort.
Uncle, Shabbir's dad would tell us the difference between power and torque. How a morris minor would have a straight torque line tapering off only at a very high rpm. Later on one learnt that this is a typical characteristic of long stroke engines. He was working on a concept that I still remember. One that I will always remember but not reveal as I have not tested it. Uncle was not very talkative but a great teacher when he wanted to be. His garage was a favourite hangout place for me. And I would often go there to meet Shabbir.
Shabbir and I would often talk in respectful awed tones, me I suspect more than him about Ferrari, Bertone, Guigiaro, Pininfarina, Zagato and Gandini. The gods of design. The altar which we longed to worship at but convinced that we would die in this heathen hell untouched by divinity.
Time passed in a desultory fashion with insipid ideas floating around in the heads of indian auto manufacturers. They got a nissan chery engine in a Lada body and called it 118 NE (Nissan Engined). Why for heaven's sake can't they get the Chery body also. Die cost saving cheapos!!!! HM launched the Contessa and the tinpot Trekker. For a while the government pretended that it was favouring those in high places by giving them contessas. The Standard auto company launched the the Standard 2000 a rust bucket from day one with a horribly rattly engine with no power!!! Indian auto industry dying fast. Before that the Standard Herald 4 door popped up and popped out faster than you could say Muthiah!!
The Maruti will not be mentioned but the Dolphin will be as it suffered at the hands of the govt's policy that blatantly favoured below 800 cc 4 door cars...conveniently only the maruti met that criteria....Tata's proposal to tie up with Honda for passenger cars was very much in keeping with the spirit of the Rajiv Gandhi joint venture era...allwyn nissan, eicher mitsubishi, dcm toyota, birla yamaha et al were doing well...but of course as they were not competing with Maruti. Dolphin was. And Tata would be so he was denied. A similar more sordid story would be repeated with the singapore airlines proposal. Sometimes I think we should give the group a bharat ratna just for staying put.
I was introduced to Indian Auto Journal then. Rajesh Mirajkar and his spartan public conveyance and private vehicle designs electrified me. Concept cars came into my world. Designs seen like never before. Some time later a new fella left Corvette (I know I know GM) and came here to design fantastically exotic looking cars. Dilip Chhabria is his name but his styling while very influenced by Zagato to my mind is not harmonious. And build quality suspect. So it has remained, despite his company doing fantastically well.
College meant I would travel easily to churchgate to pick up not only World Cars but also foreign issues of Car&Driver and Track&Road. My knowledge was increasing by leaps and bounds. As I grew interested in other things...India was opening up. Hyundai, Daewoo, ford, Opel all came in one by one... But where were the Indian companies? Which brings me to the question I wanted to ask...so I better come to the point quickly. Let me speed things up.
But after all these years, Tata had created a
Tatamobile. No, not a cell phone. It was india's first attempt at a pick up truck. Not bad considering the truckers got the looks part right, they were heavily influenced by the Benz cars they were assembling for MB. But the build level esp NVH was all wrong. Car versions came out like crazy. And the one from Nicholas coachbuilders my favourite. Horrible build quality though. Tata Estate was better but marginally so. Then came the Tata Sierra. And then Ratan Tata had a vision to make a people's car. No not the Nano...that would come later.
This was the Indica. And when it was revealed at the Auto Show in Delhi, it became the first product launch that I saw on TV and cried. So far it is the only one. Something indescribable when Ratan came on stage and the car was revealed. guess somewhere there was closure of sorts. It was a people's car alright. Designed by IDEA. So obviously there were similarities to the FIAT car of same vintage and dimensions the Palio, tailgate, boot, hood slope and doors. But the Tatas never got me the car I wanted. They took an Ambassador sized car and gave it wheels of a 800. Still make this mistake for all their cars (except the Safari) and variants. Look at the Manza and the Indigo. Don't give me engineering and rolling resistance theory, as it doesn't wash. They could have used thin steel instead of that ton heavy armour plate they were using, make it lighter so the wheels of proper size could be put in place. Still am very proud of it but also pissed at tata motors for not rounding off the job properly. Build and all those habits will come eventually but styling is something that defines you. And not getting the proportions right is so wrong.
Mahindras, the chaps who plied us with jeeps of all kinds were getting into passenger vehicles. It was so exciting. After the Commander, Armada and Bolero, Project Scorpio is a whole new company within a company (like GM's Saturn Project) would herald the company's entry into the passenger segment. Cover stories preceded the launch and when the car arrived and I was massively underwhelmed. It was a jeep like any other. Closed yes. But that old Willys Station Wagon had more character. over the years when I had a few rides in it, I appreciated the cars solidity and ride. But Mahindra wasn't content...no....no. They gave us the Xylo and the Gio two of the ugliest vehicles known to man. Tata tried to compete by giving us the Nano. They have patented the 'too-small a wheel' ugliness and taken it to new levels. So I ask myself this question...
When indian auto companies make enough money to buy Jaguar and Land Rover and Ssangyong...can't they buy a little bit of sensibility to design a better looking vehicle. It doesn't cost more...just need to make the effort so why aren't they putting it there?
Especially when we are getting the Fortuners, Q7s and the M1s on the same roads. The Citys and the Ventos on the same parking lots? Why? Why? Why?
When I an average Indian can see it, why can't they? Why?
I has this question for many years but as it was dormant it lay still, after seeing what the new Xylo looks like and the ridiculous honeycomb grille of the XUV500 the torrent became an outpour.
As I was writing, a lancer overtook my car, naturally, this being india from the left and at the same time a Skoda overtook the lancer from its left and immediately, I began imagining the torque graph and gear ratios at play here. Resigning myself to the fate of my automotive memories and with general interest at heart I will write only about design. Of the cars that is.
Growing up in a country that was confused whether it was a socialist country or not, led to a automotively challenged childhood. The heart yearns for stuff it does not get, so all sorts of car books were constantly pored over and the usual suspects overanalysed. Being mumbai, it was largely a Premier city. Kolkata and Delhi were largely Ambassador cities and Chennai was where Standard Heralds were made.
The first big car I regularly heard of was the Impala, then the world's hottest luxury car. Everybody who was anybody had to have one, otherwise they were not really there. Rajesh Khanna had one. So there. But my first encounters were with our landlord's what I think was the Kingsway with its white and acqua two tone colour and big fins, 16 number Ram Uncle's yellow Beetle, and the Landmaster from Ferns Villa. Also, Owen lived next to Ferns Villa and his dad had a real cool Willys Station Wagon. Opposite school under Michelle's house was perenially parked a stately serene black 1966 Mercedes 190 D. The Alves just ahead in the village had a Herald that was more parked than not. In comparison our Fiat 1100, the 'dukkar fiat' as it was uncharitably called in mumbai was quite a commoner in my eyes. There were many others but I remember these. They all were of different vintages and design philosophies but in themselves complete. It is the 190 I think that caused me to go out of whack as far as cars are concerned. Peering over the window sill looking into the gear knob, the chrome plated rings on the intrument panels and the lovely vertical grill with the blue and silver three pointed star decal crowned by the ring.
All through school, newspapers were scoured, magazines torn, posters collected and scrapbooks made. In this scrapbook is my first drawing of my car. A no-nonsense four door endowed with a childish yet learned sense of proportion. We'll call it the X One. More on this later.
The biggest help was the annual issue of World Cars. Every year in January 100 bucks spent on buying it outside Bandra station. We were in the 10th then and Shabbir and I would pore over the issue sitting in his classic Ford Escort.
Uncle, Shabbir's dad would tell us the difference between power and torque. How a morris minor would have a straight torque line tapering off only at a very high rpm. Later on one learnt that this is a typical characteristic of long stroke engines. He was working on a concept that I still remember. One that I will always remember but not reveal as I have not tested it. Uncle was not very talkative but a great teacher when he wanted to be. His garage was a favourite hangout place for me. And I would often go there to meet Shabbir.
Shabbir and I would often talk in respectful awed tones, me I suspect more than him about Ferrari, Bertone, Guigiaro, Pininfarina, Zagato and Gandini. The gods of design. The altar which we longed to worship at but convinced that we would die in this heathen hell untouched by divinity.
Time passed in a desultory fashion with insipid ideas floating around in the heads of indian auto manufacturers. They got a nissan chery engine in a Lada body and called it 118 NE (Nissan Engined). Why for heaven's sake can't they get the Chery body also. Die cost saving cheapos!!!! HM launched the Contessa and the tinpot Trekker. For a while the government pretended that it was favouring those in high places by giving them contessas. The Standard auto company launched the the Standard 2000 a rust bucket from day one with a horribly rattly engine with no power!!! Indian auto industry dying fast. Before that the Standard Herald 4 door popped up and popped out faster than you could say Muthiah!!
The Maruti will not be mentioned but the Dolphin will be as it suffered at the hands of the govt's policy that blatantly favoured below 800 cc 4 door cars...conveniently only the maruti met that criteria....Tata's proposal to tie up with Honda for passenger cars was very much in keeping with the spirit of the Rajiv Gandhi joint venture era...allwyn nissan, eicher mitsubishi, dcm toyota, birla yamaha et al were doing well...but of course as they were not competing with Maruti. Dolphin was. And Tata would be so he was denied. A similar more sordid story would be repeated with the singapore airlines proposal. Sometimes I think we should give the group a bharat ratna just for staying put.
I was introduced to Indian Auto Journal then. Rajesh Mirajkar and his spartan public conveyance and private vehicle designs electrified me. Concept cars came into my world. Designs seen like never before. Some time later a new fella left Corvette (I know I know GM) and came here to design fantastically exotic looking cars. Dilip Chhabria is his name but his styling while very influenced by Zagato to my mind is not harmonious. And build quality suspect. So it has remained, despite his company doing fantastically well.
College meant I would travel easily to churchgate to pick up not only World Cars but also foreign issues of Car&Driver and Track&Road. My knowledge was increasing by leaps and bounds. As I grew interested in other things...India was opening up. Hyundai, Daewoo, ford, Opel all came in one by one... But where were the Indian companies? Which brings me to the question I wanted to ask...so I better come to the point quickly. Let me speed things up.
But after all these years, Tata had created a
Tatamobile. No, not a cell phone. It was india's first attempt at a pick up truck. Not bad considering the truckers got the looks part right, they were heavily influenced by the Benz cars they were assembling for MB. But the build level esp NVH was all wrong. Car versions came out like crazy. And the one from Nicholas coachbuilders my favourite. Horrible build quality though. Tata Estate was better but marginally so. Then came the Tata Sierra. And then Ratan Tata had a vision to make a people's car. No not the Nano...that would come later.
This was the Indica. And when it was revealed at the Auto Show in Delhi, it became the first product launch that I saw on TV and cried. So far it is the only one. Something indescribable when Ratan came on stage and the car was revealed. guess somewhere there was closure of sorts. It was a people's car alright. Designed by IDEA. So obviously there were similarities to the FIAT car of same vintage and dimensions the Palio, tailgate, boot, hood slope and doors. But the Tatas never got me the car I wanted. They took an Ambassador sized car and gave it wheels of a 800. Still make this mistake for all their cars (except the Safari) and variants. Look at the Manza and the Indigo. Don't give me engineering and rolling resistance theory, as it doesn't wash. They could have used thin steel instead of that ton heavy armour plate they were using, make it lighter so the wheels of proper size could be put in place. Still am very proud of it but also pissed at tata motors for not rounding off the job properly. Build and all those habits will come eventually but styling is something that defines you. And not getting the proportions right is so wrong.
Mahindras, the chaps who plied us with jeeps of all kinds were getting into passenger vehicles. It was so exciting. After the Commander, Armada and Bolero, Project Scorpio is a whole new company within a company (like GM's Saturn Project) would herald the company's entry into the passenger segment. Cover stories preceded the launch and when the car arrived and I was massively underwhelmed. It was a jeep like any other. Closed yes. But that old Willys Station Wagon had more character. over the years when I had a few rides in it, I appreciated the cars solidity and ride. But Mahindra wasn't content...no....no. They gave us the Xylo and the Gio two of the ugliest vehicles known to man. Tata tried to compete by giving us the Nano. They have patented the 'too-small a wheel' ugliness and taken it to new levels. So I ask myself this question...
When indian auto companies make enough money to buy Jaguar and Land Rover and Ssangyong...can't they buy a little bit of sensibility to design a better looking vehicle. It doesn't cost more...just need to make the effort so why aren't they putting it there?
Especially when we are getting the Fortuners, Q7s and the M1s on the same roads. The Citys and the Ventos on the same parking lots? Why? Why? Why?
When I an average Indian can see it, why can't they? Why?
I has this question for many years but as it was dormant it lay still, after seeing what the new Xylo looks like and the ridiculous honeycomb grille of the XUV500 the torrent became an outpour.
Dekh liya
Tere aage sar jhuka ke dekh liya
minnatein kiin gidgidaa ke dekh liyaa
Maikhaane mein jaata hai roz kyun
masjid ka rasta jab usne dekh liyaa
Hon bahut jo aajbhi iski sunte hain
Dil ko sar par bithaa kar dekh liyaa
Bewafaa hai zindagi kehte hain log
Maut ko bhi to bulaa ke dekh liyaa
Milega milega
Bada badguman hai shayad
Kabhi haan nahin karta
Meri baat sunne ke liye
Chalte chalte nahin theharta
Meri arz aksar iske behre kaanon par
Joon bhi nahin ban paati
Bas ek jhatke mein
Saari ilteja khaarij ho jaati
Jo kabhi ruka hua mile
To mere kehne pe nahin chalta
Shayad meri manzil hi ghalat hai
Aisa mujhe hai lagne lagta
Main iske wajood ka maqsad hoon
Phir bhi meri haisiat kya hai
Chai, nashte aur gas bharaane se
Pataa chala bahut kam hai
Is shehar mein jahaan
Paisa milta hai, pyar milta hai
Waqt ke chauraahe pe
Manzil ki hasrat liye khada hoon
Dekhein kab mujhe richshaw milta hai
nahin aane wala
Meri aankhon se ab kuch bahar nahin aane wala
Dil ka mehman jo hai andar nahin aane wala
Keemti kyun hain mujhko uski kasmein, vaade uske,
Raasta bhool ke bhi wo jab nahin aane wala
Maujon ne jaise kasam kha rakhi hai
Koi safina ab kinare nahin aane wala
Aasmaan dekhta hai kyun fard e pashemaan
Daur hikmat ka hai abaabeel nahin aane wala
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Naya naya Saal Tha
Wo lag raha hai bujha bujha
Kuch sarak gaya hai taj sa
Chaak hai jigar jigar
Dil bhi hai jalaa jalaa
Naye naye hain zakhm bhi
Sar bhi hai jhuka jhuka
Isse pehle ki poochh loon
Usne pher li nazar
kal tha itne kharosh mein
Muayyan sa dagar dagar
Aaj uski zulf kyun
Ho gayee bikhar bikhar
Mujhe uske haal pe taras bhi hai
Aur sochta hun magar magar
Ek din ke saal ko
Waqt ne badla kis qadar
Dard Ilaaj Hai
Beemar hain kyun bechain mizaaj hai
Dard ki intehaa akhir ilaaj hai
Baatein hain bahot saudagaron ke paas
Khaamosh hai jiske haathon ko kaaj hai
Bookhe bachche royein na kyun yahaan
is mulk mein sare aam sadta anaaj hai
Holi se, phoolon se, kheton se chura ke
rangeen parcham siyasat ka aaj hai
Aa rahe hain dekho waris ehtejaaj ke
Utha ke sar aise jaise zakhm taaj hai
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