samedi 19 juillet 2008

you are a puzzle / Tum ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho / Vous Êtes un Puzzle



Tum ek Gorakh Dhanda ho - Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Artist: Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Title: Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho (You Are a Puzzle) altr. Tum Ik Gorak Danda Ho
Album: Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Vol. 5
Genre: Qawwali
Poet/Lyrics: Naaz Khailvi
Length: 30:22


Comments: This is one of my favorite Qawwalis, here he is complaining to God. Totally Puzzled by his existence.

Tum Ik Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Kabhi Yahaan Tumhein Dhonda, Kabhi Wahaan Pohncha
Tumhari Deed Ki Khaatir Kahan Kahan Pohcha
Ghareeb Mit Ga'ay, Pamaal Ho Gaye Laikin
Kisi Talak Na Tera Aaj Tak Nishaan Pohncha

Ho Bhi Nahi Aur Her Jaa Ho
Ho Bhi Nahi Aur Her Ja Ho
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Her Zarray Mein Kiss Shaan Say Tu Jalwa Numa Hai
Hairaan Hai Magar Aqal K Kaisay Hai To Kia Hai
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Tujhay Dair-O-Haram Mein Nai Dhonda Tu Nahi Milta
Magar Tashreef Farma Tujhay Apne Dil Mein Daikha Hai
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Dhonday Nahi Milay Ho Na Dhonday Say Kaheen Tum
Aur Phir Yeah Tamasha Hai, Jahan Hum Hein Waheen Tum
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Jab Bajuz Tairay Koi Dosra Maujood Nahi
Phir Samajh Mein Nahi Aata Tera Purdah Karna
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Harm O Dair Mein Hai Jalwa E Purfan Tera
Do Gharoon Ka Hai Charaagh E Kurkhe Roshan Tera
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Jo Ulfat Mein Tumhari Kho Gaya Hai, Usi Kho'ay Hoay Ko Kuch Mila Hai
Na But-Khanay, Na Kabay Mein Mila Hai, Magar Totay Hoay Dil Mein Mila Hai
Adam Bun Ker Kaheen To Chup Gaya Hai, Kaheen To Hast Bun Ker Aa Gaya Hai

Nahi Hai Tu To Phir Inkaar Kaisa, Nafi Bhi Tairay Honay Ka Pata Hai
Mein Jiss Ko Keh Raha Hoon Apni Hasti, Agar Wo Tu Nahi To Aur Kia Hai
Nahi Aaya Khayaloon Mein Agar Tu, To Phir Mein Kaisay Samjha Tu Khuda Hai
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Hairan Hoon Is Baat Pay, Tum Kon Ho Kia Ho
Haath Aao To But, Haath Na Aao To Khuda Ho
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Aqal Mein Jo Ghir Gaya La-Intiha Kiyoon Ker Hoa
Jo Samajh Mein Aa Gaya Phir Wo Khuda Kiyoon Ker Hoa
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Falsafi Ko Behas K Ander Khuda Milta Nahi
Dour Ko Suljha Raha Hai Aur Sira Milta Nahi
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Pata Yoon To Bata Daitay Ho Sub Ko La-Makaan Apna
Ta'ajub Hai Magar Rehtay Ho Tum Tootay Hoay Dil Mein
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Jab K Tujh Bin Nahi Koi Maujood
Phir Yeah Hangama Ay Khuda Kia Hai
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Chuptay Nahi Ho, Samnay Aatay Nahi Ho Tum, Jalwa Dikha K Jalwa Dikhatay Nahi Ho Tum
Dair O Haram K Jhagray Mita'tay Nahi Ho Tum, Jo Asal Baat Hai Wo Batatay Nahi To Tum
Hairaan Hoon Mairay Dil Mein Sama'ay Ho Kiss Tarah, Haan'la K Do Jahan Mein Samatay Nahi To Tum
Yeah Ma Bud O Haram, Yeah Qaleesa-o-Dair Kiyoon, Harjayii Ho Jabhi To Bata'tay Nahi To Tum
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Dil Peh Hairat Nai Ajab Rung Jama Rakha Hai, Aik Uljhi Howi Tasveer Bana Rakha Hai
Kuch Samajh Mein Nahi Aata K Yeah Chakkar Kia Hai, Khail Kia Tum Nai Azal Say Yeah Racha Rakha Hai
Rooh Ko Jism K Pingray Ka Bana Ker Qaidee, Us Pay Phir Mout Ka Pehraa Bhi Bithaa Rakha Hai
Day K Tadbeer K Panchi Ko Uranay Tu Nai, Daam-E-Tadbeer Mein Her Sumt Bicha Rakha Hai
Kar K Araish E Qounain Ki Barsoon Tu Nai, Khatam Karne Ka Bhi Mansooba Bana Rakha Hai

La-Makaani Ka Bahr Haal Hai Dawa Bhi Tumhein, Nahl-O-Akrab Ka Bhi Paighaam Suna Rakha Hai
Yeah Burai, Wo Bhalai, Yeah Jahannum, Wo Bahisht, Is Ulat Phiar Mein Farmao To Kia Rakha Hai
Jurm Aadam Nai Kiya Aur Saza Baitoon Ko, Adl O Insaaf Ka Mi'aar Bhi Kia Rakha Hai
Dai K Insaan Ko Dunya Mein Khilafat Apni, Ik Tamasha Sa Zamanay Mein Bana Rakha Hai
Apni Pehchaan Ki Khaatir Hai Banaya Sub Ko, Sub Ki Nazaroon Say Magar Khud Ko Chup Rakha Hai
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Nit Naye Naqsh Banatay Ho Mita Daitay Ho, Janay Kiss Jurm-E-Tamanna Ki Saza Daitay Ho
Kabhi Kunker Ko Bana Daitay Ho Heeray Ki Kani, Kabhi Heeron Ko Bhi Mitti Mein Mila Daitay Ho
Zindagi Kitnay He Murdoon Ko Ata Ki Jiss Nai, Wo Maseeha Bhi Saleebon Pay Saja Daitay Ho
Khuwahish-E-Deed Jo Kar Baithay Sir-E-Tuur Koi, Tuur Hee Bark e Tajaali Say Jala Daitay Ho
Nalay Namrood Mein Dalwatay Ho Qudrat Na Khaleeq, Khud Hee Phir Naar Ko Gulzaar Bana Daitay Ho

Chahay Kin Aan Mein Phainko Kabhi Maah Kinaan, Noor Yaqoob Ki Aankhon Ka Bujha Daitay Ho
Day Ke Yusuf Ko Kabhi Mirs K Bazaaron Mein, Aakhir Kaar Shah-E-Misr Bana Daitay Ho
Jazb O Masti Ki Jo Manzil Pe Pohonchta Hai Koi, Baith Ker Dil Mein Anal Haq Ki Sada Daitay Ho
Khud He Lagwatay Ho Phir Kufr K Fatway Us Per, Khud He Mansoor Ko Sooli Peh Charha Daitay Ho
Apni Hasti Bhi Wo Ik Rooz Gawa Baith'ta Hai, Apne Darshan Ki Lagan Jiss Ko Laga Daitay Ho

Koi Ranjha Jo Kabhi Khooj Mein Nikle Teri, Tum Usay Jhang K Bele Mein Rula Daitay Ho
Justujo Lay K Tumhari Joh Chalay Qais Koi, Us Ko Majno Kisi Laila Ka Bana Daitay Ho
Jot? Sassi K Agar Mun Mein Tumhari Jagay, Tum Usay Taptay Hoay Thal Mein Jala Daitay Ho
Sohni Gar Tum Ko Mahiwaal Tassawur Ker Le, Us Ko Bikhri Howi Lehroon Mein Baha Daitay Ho
Khudh Joh Chaho To Sar-E-Arsh Bula Ker Mehboob, Aik He Raat Mein Mairaaj Kara Daitay Ho
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Aap Hi Apna Pardah Ho
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Jo Kehta Hoon Mana Tumhein Lagta Hai Bura Sa, Phir Bhi Hai Mujhay Tum Say Baharhaal Gila Sa
Chup Chaap Rahay Daikhtay Tum Arsh-E-Bareen Per, Taptay Hoay Karbal Mein Mohammad Ka Nawasa
Kiss Tarah Pilata Tha Laahu Apna Wafa Ko, Khud Teen Dino Say Wo Agarchay Tha Piyasa
Dushmun To Bahar Haal Thay Dumshun Magar Afsoos, Tum Nai Bhi Faraham Na Kia Pani Zara Sa

Her Zulm Ki Taufeeq Hai Zaalim Ki Wirasat, Mazloom K Hissay Mein Tasalli Na Dilasa
Kal Taaj Saja Daikha Tha Jis Shaqs K Sir Per, Hai Aaj Usi Shaqs K Haathon Mein Hikasa
Yeh Kia Hai Agar Pochon To Kehtay Ho Jawaban, Is Raaz Say Ho Sakta Nahi Koi Shanasa
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Hairat Ki Ik Dunya Ho
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Har Aik Jaan Pey Ho, Laikin Pata Nahi Maloom
Tumahra Naam Suna Nai, Nishaan Nahi Maloom
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Dil Say Armaan Jo Nikal Ja'ay To Jugnu Ho Ja'ay, Aur Aankhon Mein Simat Aa'ay To Aanso Ho Ja'ay
Ja Pe Ya Huu Ka Jo Be Hu Karay Hu Mein Kho Ker, Us Ko Sultaniyaan Mil Jaein Woh Baahu Ho Ja'ay
Baalgi Ka Na Kisi Ka Ho Churi Ke Neechay, Halk-E-Asghar Mein Kabhi Teer Tarazu Ho Ja'ay
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Kiss Qadar Beniyaaz Ho Tum Bhi
Daastan E Niyaaz Ho Tum Bhi
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

...

Raah-E-Tehqeeq Mein Her Gaam Pay Uljhan Daikhoon, Wohi Halaat O Khayalaat Mein Anaban Daikhoon
Bana Ke Rah Jaata Hoon Tasaveer Pareshaani Ki, Ghaur Say Jab Bhi Kabhi Dunya Ke Darpan Daikhoon
Aik He Khaaq Pay Fitrat Ke Tajaadaat Itne, Itne Hisson Mein Banta Aik He Angan Daikhoon

Kahin Zahmat Ki Sulagti Howi Patjhar Ka Sama, Kahin Rahmat Ke Barastay Hoay Sawan Daikhon
Kahin Punkartay Darya, Kabhin Khamosh Pahar, Kabhi Jungle, Kahin Sahra, Kahin Gulshan Daikhoon
Khoon Rulata Hai Yeh Taqseem Ka Andaaz Mujhay, Koi Dhanwaan Yahaan Per Koi Nirdhan Daikhoon

Din Ke Haathon Mein Faqat Ek Sulagta Suraj, Raat Ki Maang Sitaroon Say Muzayyan Daikhon
Kahin Murjha'ay Howe Phool Hein Sach'chaii Ke, Aur Kahin Jhoot Ke Kaanton Pay Bhi Joban Daikhon
Shams Ki Khaal Kaheen Khinchti Nazar Aati Hai, Kaheen Sarmad Ki Utarti Howi Gardan Daikhoon

Raat Kia Shay Hai Sawayra Kia Hai, Yeah Ujala Yeah Andhera Kia Hai
Mein Bhi Naayib Hoon Tumhara Aakhir, Kiyoon Yeh Kehtay Ho K Tera Kya Hai
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Daikhnay Wala Tujhay Kia Dekhta
Tu Nai Her Rung Say Pardah Kia
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Masjid Mandir Yeh Mekhanay, Koi Yeh Manay Koi Woh Manay
Sub Tere Hein Jaana Kasahanay, Koi Yeh Manay Koi Woh Manay
Ik Honay Ka Tere Qaail Hai, Inkaar Pay Koi Maail Hai
Ik Khalq Mein Shaamil Karta Hai, Ik Sub Say Akela Rehta Hai
Hein Dono Tere Mastanay, Koi Yeh Manay Koi Woh Manay
Sub Hein Jab Aashiq Tumhare Naam Ke, Kiyoon Yeh Jhagray Hein Rahim-O-Raam Ke
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Dair Mein Tu Haram Mein Tu, Arsh Pe Tu Zameen Pe Tu
Jiss Ki Pohonch Jahan Talak Us K Liyeah Waheen Pe Tu
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Her Ik Rung Mein Yakta Ho
Her Ik Rung Mein Yakta Ho
Tum Ek Gorakh Dhanda Ho

Markaz E Justuju, Aalam E Rung O Boo, Dum Ba Dum Jalwagar Tu He Tu Chaar Su
Hu K Mahool Mein Kuch Nahi Illah Hu, Tum Bohot Dilruba Tum Bohot Khoobaru
Arsh Ki Azmatein Farsh Ki Aabro, Tum Ho Qonein Ka Haasil-E-Aarzo
Aankh Nay Ker Lia Aanso'on Say Wazu, Ub To Ker Do Ata Deed Ka Ik Sabu
Aao Parday Say Tum Aankh K Ru Baru, Chund Lamhay Milan Do Ghari Guftagu
Naaz Jabta Phiray Ja Baja Qo Ba Qu, Wahdahu Wahdahu La Shareeka Laho

Allah Hu Allah Hu Allah Hu Allah Hu
Allah Hu Allah Hu Allah Hu Allah Hu

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

English Translation

You Are A Puzzle:

Sometimes I looked for you here, and some times there
To have your sight I’ve been ruined and I’ve everywhere
The dear ones vanished, but No one got a lead to you

You are not, yet you are at every place,
You are a puzzle

With what splendour you can be seen in every speck
But the mind is puzzled what you look like and what you are
You are a puzzle

I looked for you in the houses of worship, but couldn’t find you
Yet I found you residing in my heart,
You are a puzzle

I couldn’t find you anywhere
But the spectacle is that You are there, where we are
You are a puzzle

If there is none but you
Then I cannot understand why veil Yourself
You are a puzzle

You manifest-in the houses of worship
Your light is resplendent in these places
You are a puzzle

He who is lost in your love, He is rewarded
You could not be found either in a temple or Ka’bah
But you could be found in a broken heart
Sometimes you are hidden as non-existence and somewhere you appear as existence
If you are not then why deny?
Even the negation confirms your existence
The one I call my Existence who is that if not you?
If you didn’t come in my thoughts
Then how did I learn you are God?
You are a puzzle

What puzzles me is who and what are You
You’re an idol when You come by and if not then You are God
You are a puzzle

How did the one who entered wisdom could become Everlasting? How did one who comes into mind’s grasp become God
The philosopher doesn’t find God in an argument
He is trying to untangle the cord but cannot find the top
You tell all You are homeless
But surprisingly You dwell in a broken heart
You are a puzzle

If there is none but You 0 God,
Then what is all this commotion about?
You are a puzzle

You don’t hide, You don’t show Yourself
You show the manifestation but don’t show Yourself
You don’t remove the conflicts of the manner of worship
You don’t reveal the exact things
I’m surprised how You accommodated in my heart?
When the two worlds are not enough for You
You are in the houses of worship
You are faithless for not showing Your countenance
You are a puzzle

The puzzle taken strange possession of my heart
A confused picture it’s drawn within it
I do not understand what all this puzzle is
What is this game You’ve been playing since the beginning of time
You made the soul the prisoner of the body’s cage and then put the guard of death on it
You make the bird of contrivance fly ‘ yet you’ve spread the net of fate everywhere
For years you adorned the world and hereafter yet you have also made the plan of destruction
Though you claim to be homeless
Yet you preached about home, kith and kin
This is bad, this good, this is hell, this is heaven
Please tell me what is in this perplexity?
For Adam’s crime you punish his children
Is that the standard of your justice?
By giving the earthly vicegerency to the man,
You have made it into a spectacle
For Your own recognition you created all
But you hide yourself from all
You are a puzzle

You draw and erase yourself
I don’t know which crime of desire you punish us
Sometimes you’ll turn a pebble into a diamond
Other times you’ll turn a diamond into dust
The one who revived many dead
You made him to adorn the crucifix
The one that longed to have your sight on the Mount Sinai
You reduced the Mount to ashes with the Lightning of your Manifestation
You wished Abraham to be thrown into Nimrud’s Fire
Then you turned that fire into flowers yourself
Sometimes you throw a Canaanite into the well of Canaanites
And then deprive Jacob of his sight
You make Joseph to be put into the slave-mart of Egypt
And then you also make him the king of Egypt
When someone reaches to the destination of higher spirituality
You make him to voice: I’m the Truth
Then allow the verdicts of infidelity against Him
You send yourself Mansoor to the crucifix
One day he too loses his life
Whom You make to see Your sight
If a Ranjha goes in Your quest
You make him in the charity of Jhang
If some Majnun goes in Your quest
You make him a beloved of some Laila
If Your love awakens in Sassi’s heart
You scorch her in a burning desert
If Sohni imagined you as her Mahinval
You drowned her into the ragging currents
You do as You wish by summoning to the Heaven
And in a single night You can make the Prophet’s Accession to Heaven
You are a puzzle

You’re Your Veil
You are a puzzle

I accept what I say You mind it a little
But still I’ve a little complaint to make
You sat quiet on your Throne and watched Muhammad’s grandson the scorching desert of Karbala
How he was giving his blood for Your Love though he was thirsty for three days
His enemies were after all enemies, but it’s sad even you didn’t provide him with a little Water
Every favour of oppression is the inheritance of the oppressor
But the oppressed is neither consoled nor comforted
Yesterday he who had a crown on his head
Today I see him with a begging bowl
What is this? If I ask, your answer is
That no one can get acquainted with this secret
You are a puzzle

You are a world of astonishment
You are a puzzle

You are Omnipresent but I do not know where
I have heard your name but I do not know your location
You are a puzzle

Once the heart’s wish is fulfilled it glows
And when eyes are gratified they are filled With tears When a person is lost in spiritual love
He is elevated and becomes like Bahu the poet
No one comes to harm under a dagger
But the arrow in an infant’s throat becomes the scale of justice
You are a puzzle

How carefree you are.
A long story you are
You are a puzzle

Inquiring about you cause confusion at Every step
I see discord between the circumstances and Ideas
I become a picture of distress
Whenever I see in the mirror of the world
I see so many contradictions in a single eye
I see one place divided into so many parts
Somewhere I see the autumnal smoke of hardship and somewhere I see the monsoon showers of blessing
Here I see hissing rivers and there silent Mountains
Here I see a forest, there I see a desert and somewhere else I see a garden
This style of division writhes me
I see some rich and some poor here
In Day's share, I see only one sun shinning
While the night is bedecked with millions of stars
Here I see the withered flowers of truth
There I see the thorns of lies abloom
Somewhere I see Shamas skinned alive
Somewhere I see Sarmad’s head severed
What is night? What is morning?
What is light? What is darkness?
After all I’m also your deputy, why You say "what is yours?"
You are a puzzle

What would a person see of you?
You are veiled in every way
You are a puzzle

These mosques, temples and taverns
Some believe in this and some believe in that
All are your abodes dear,
Some believe in this and some believe in that
We are convinced of your Oneness
Someone leans towards negation
But You know the truth
Someone believes in this and someone believes in that
One includes him with the creation
The other stays aloof from all
Both are Your devotees
Some believe in this and some believe in that
If all are the devotees of your name
Then why the conflict of your names?
You are a puzzle

You are in every house of worship
You are in both the worlds wherever one is
You are there for him
In everywhere You are Unique
You are a puzzle

You are the centre of our quest, the world of colour and scent
You manifest all the time, You are Omnipresent
In Bahu’s surrounds there is only You
You are the beloved, very Handsome
You are the Glory and Honour of the Heavens
You are the gain of longings of the two worlds
You gave eyes and makes us perform ablution with the tears
Now give us a flask of your manifestation
Come out of the veil before me
For a short meeting and a conversation
Naaz will tell his beads place to place, street to street
Allah is one, He has no partner
Allahu, Allahu, Allahu......................

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

French Translation

Vous Êtes un Puzzle : You Are A Puzzle

Quelquefois je vous ai cherchés ici et quelques fois là

Pour jeter votre coup d'œil j'ai été ruiné et j'ai

Les chers ont disparu, mais Personne ne vous a reçu une avance

Vous n'êtes pas, encore vous êtes à chaque endroit,

Vous êtes un puzzle

Avec quelle splendeur vous pouvez être vus dans chaque petite tache

Mais l'esprit est déconcerté à quoi vous ressemblez et quels vous êtes

Vous êtes un puzzleYou are a puzzle

Je vous ai cherchés dans les maisons de vénération, mais ne pouvais pas vous

Pourtant je vous ai trouvés résidant dans mon cœur

Vous êtes un puzzle

Je ne pouvais pas vous trouver n'importe où

Mais le spectacle est que Vous êtes là, où nous sommes

Vous êtes un puzzle

S'il n'y a personne, mais vous

Alors je ne peux pas comprendre pourquoi le voile Vous-même

Vous êtes un puzzle

Vous manifestez - dans les maisons de vénération

Votre lumière est resplendissante dans ces endroits

Vous êtes un puzzle

Il qui est perdu dans votre amour, Il est récompensé

Vous ne pouviez pas être trouvés dans un temple ou dans Ka’bah

Mais vous pourriez être trouvés dans un coeur brisé Quelquefois vous êtes cachés comme l'inexistence et quelque part vous apparaissez comme

Si vous n'êtes pas alors pourquoi nient ?

Même la négation confirme votre existence

Celui que j'appelle mon Existence qui est que sinon vous ?

Si vous n'êtes pas entrés dans mes pensées

Alors comment ai-je appris que vous êtes Dieu ?

Vous êtes un puzzle

Ce qui me déconcerte est qui et ce qui est Vous

Vous êtes une idole quand Vous venez par et sinon alors Vous êtes Dieu

Vous êtes un puzzle

Comment a fait celui qui est entré la sagesse pourrait devenir Éternelle ? Comment a fait celui qui entre en possession de la prise d'esprit devient Dieu

Le philosophe ne trouve pas Dieu dans un argument

Il essaie de démêler la corde, mais ne peut pas trouver le haut

Vous dites tout que Vous êtes sans foyer

Mais étonnamment Vous habitez dans un coeur brisé

Vous êtes un puzzle

S'il n'y a personne, mais Vous Dieu,

Alors quelle est toute cette agitation de ?

Vous êtes un puzzle

Vous ne vous cachez pas, Vous ne vous montrez pas

Vous montrez la manifestation, mais ne vous montrez pas

Vous n'enlevez pas les conflits de la manière de vénération

Vous ne révélez pas les choses exactes

Je suis surpris comment Vous avez logé dans mon coeur ?

Quand les deux mondes ne sont pas assez pour Vous

Vous êtes dans les maisons de vénération

Vous êtes infidèles pour ne pas montrer Votre expression

Vous êtes un puzzle

Le puzzle la possession étrange prise de mon coeur

Un dessin trouble il y est tiré

Je ne comprends pas quel tout ce puzzle est

Ce qui est ce jeu Vous avez joué depuis la nuit des temps

Vous avez rendu l'âme le prisonnier de la cage du corps et y avez mis ensuite la garde de mort

Vous faites l'oiseau qui vole d'engin ‘encore vous avez étendu le filet de destin partout

Pour les années vous avez orné le monde et ci-après encore vous avez fait aussi le plan de destruction

Bien que vous prétendiez être sans foyer

Pourtant vous avez prêché de la maison, kith et de la famille

C'est mauvais, ce bien, c'est l'enfer, c'est le ciel

Dites-moi s'il vous plaît qu'est-ce qui est dans cette perplexité ?

Pour le crime d'Adam vous punissez ses enfants

Est-il la norme de votre justice ?

En donnant vicegerency terrestre à l'homme,

Vous l'avez fait dans un spectacle

Pour Votre propre reconnaissance vous avez créé tous

Mais vous vous cachez à tous

Vous êtes un puzzle

Vous tirez et vous effacez

Je ne sais pas quel crime de désir vous nous punissez

Quelquefois vous transformerez un caillou en diamant

D'autres temps vous transformerez un diamant en poussière

Celui qui a réanimé beaucoup de morts

Vous l'avez fait pour orner la croix

Celui qui avait très envie de jeter votre coup d'oeil sur le Mont Sinai

Vous avez réduit le Mont en cendres avec la Foudre de votre Manifestation

Vous avez voulu qu'Abraham ait été lancé dans le Feu de Nimrud

Alors vous avez transformé ce feu en fleurs vous-même

Quelquefois vous lancez un Canaanite dans bien de Canaanites

Et privez ensuite Jacob de sa vue

Vous faites Joseph pour être mis dans le marché de l'esclave de l'Egypte

Et ensuite vous le rendez aussi le roi de l'Egypte

Quand quelqu'un arrive à la destination de plus haute spiritualité

Vous le faites à la voix : je suis la Vérité

Permettez alors les verdicts d'infidélité contre Lui

Vous vous envoyez Mansoor à la croix

Un jour il perd aussi sa vie

Que Vous faites pour voir Votre

Si un Ranjha entre dans Votre quête

Vous le faites dans la charité de Jhang

Si un Majnun entre dans Votre quête

Vous le rendez un chéri d'un Laila

Si Votre amour se réveille dans le coeur de Sassi

Vous la brûlez légèrement dans un désert brûlant

Si Sohni vous a imaginés comme son Mahinval

Vous l'avez noyée dans les courants ragging

Vous faites comme Vous voulez en convoquant au Ciel

Et dans une nuit simple Vous pouvez faire l'Acquisition du Prophète au Ciel

Vous êtes un puzzle

Vous êtes Votre Voile

Vous êtes un puzzle

J'accepte ce que je dis que Vous le surveillez un peu

Mais tout de même j'ai un peu de plainte pour faire

Vous vous êtes assis tranquilles sur votre Trône et avez regardé le petit-fils de Muhammad le désert torride de Karbala

Comment il donnait son sang pour Votre Amour bien qu'il ait soif depuis trois jours

Ses ennemis étaient après tous les ennemis, mais il est triste que même vous ne lui ayez pas fourni un peu d'Eau

Chaque service d'oppression est l'héritage de l'oppresseur

Mais l'opprimé n'est ni consolé, ni calmé

Hier il qui avait une couronne sur sa tête

Aujourd'hui je le vois avec un bol de mendicité

Qu'est-ce qui est cela ? Si je demande, votre réponse est

Que personne ne puisse faire la connaissance de ce secret

Vous êtes un puzzle

Vous êtes un monde de surprise

Vous êtes un puzzle

Vous êtes Omniprésents mais je ne sais pas où

J'ai entendu votre nom mais je ne sais pas votre endroit

Vous êtes un puzzle

Dès que le désir du coeur est réalisé il rougeoie

Et quand les yeux sont satisfaits ils sont remplis des déchirures

Quand une personne est perdue dans l'amour spirituel

Il est élevé et devient comme Bahu le poète

Personne ne vient pour faire du mal sous une dague

Mais la flèche dans la gorge d'un bébé devient l'échelle de justice

Vous êtes un puzzle

Comment insouciant vous êtes.

Une longue histoire vous êtes

Vous êtes un puzzle

L'enquête de vous provoque la confusion à Chaque pas

Je vois le désaccord entre les circonstances et les Idées

Je deviens un dessin de détresse

Chaque fois que je vois dans le miroir du monde

Je vois tant de contradictions dans un oeil simple

Je vois un endroit divisé en tant de parties

Quelque part je vois la fumée automnale d'épreuve et quelque part je vois les douches de mousson de bénédiction

Ici je vois des fleuves sifflant et des Montagnes là silencieuses

Ici je vois une forêt, là je vois un désert et ailleurs je vois un jardin

Ce style de division se me tortille

Je vois certains riches et certains pauvres ici

Dans la part de Jour, je vois seulement un soleil

Pendant que la nuit est ornée de millions d'étoiles

Ici je vois les fleurs flétries de vérité

Là je vois les épines de mensonges en fleur

Quelque part je vois que Shamas a écorché vivant

Quelque part je vois que la tête de Sarmad a rompu

Quelle est la nuit ? Quel est le matin ?

Qu'est-ce qui est clair ? Quelle est l'obscurité ?

Enfin je suis aussi votre député, pourquoi Vous dites "qu'est-ce qui est le vôtre ?"

Vous êtes un puzzle

Qu'une personne verrait-elle de vous ?

Vous êtes voilés de chaque façon

Vous êtes un puzzle

Ces mosquées, temples et tavernes

Certains y croient et certains y croient

Tous sont vos demeures chères,

Certains y croient et certains y croient

Nous sommes convaincus de votre Unité

Quelqu'un penche vers la négation

Mais Vous savez la vérité

Quelqu'un y croit et quelqu'un y croit

On l'inclut avec la création

Les autres séjours distants de tous

Tous les deux sont Vos passionnés

Certains y croient et certains y croient

Si tous sont les passionnés de votre nom

Alors pourquoi le conflit de vos noms ?

Vous êtes un puzzle

Vous êtes dans chaque maison de vénération

Vous êtes dans tous les deux les mondes où que l'on soit

Vous êtes là pour lui

Dans partout Vous sont Uniques

Vous êtes un puzzle

Vous êtes le centre de notre quête, le monde de couleur et d'odeur

Vous manifestez tout le temps, Vous êtes Omniprésents

Dans Bahu entoure il y a seulement Vous

Vous êtes le chéri, très Beau

Vous êtes la Gloire et l'Honneur des Cieux

Vous êtes l'augmentation de grands désirs des deux mondes

Vous avez donné des yeux et nous faites exécuter l'ablution avec les déchirures

Donnez-nous maintenant une flasque de votre manifestation

Venez du voile avant moi

Pour une réunion courte et une conversation

Naaz dira à son endroit de perles de placer, la rue à la rue

Allah est un, Il n'a aucun partenaire

Allahu, Allahu, Allahu......................






jeudi 12 juin 2008

Yves Saint Laurent





Yves Saint Laurent

He's considered by many to be the greatest designer of the last century, changing the way women dressed and creating a role model business for the fashion industry.

Yves Saint Laurent

He died on June 1, 2008 at 11:10 p.m. Paris time from the effects of brain cancer, at his residence in Paris. According to The New York Times, a few days before he died, Saint Laurent and Bergé were joined in a same-sex civil union known as a "civil pact of solidarity" in France.

One of the greatest fashion designers ever has passed away six years after his last “historical” Haute Couture runway show, and the world of fashion worldwide is in mourning.


Born on: 01-08-1936
Birth place: Oran, Algeria


The son of an insurance company manager, Yves Henri Donat Mathieu Saint Laurent left home at the age of 17 to work for the French designer Christian Dior. He believes that:

"Dressing is a way of life."

“Fashions fade, style is eternal.”

“I have often said that I wish I had invented blue jeans: the most spectacular, the most practical, the most relaxed and nonchalant. They have expression, modesty, sex appeal, simplicity - all I hope for in my clothes.”


After winning first prize in the International Wool Secretariat contest for his cocktail dress design in 1954, Yves Saint Laurent landed the job of Haute Couture designer when Dior died in 1957. Saint Laurent got his big break when he was only 17 years old. The shy young designer began to work for fashion legend, Christian Dior, and by the time he was 21 years old, Saint Laurent was in charge of Dior's empire.



In 1960, he was conscripted into the French Army. His spell in the service was short-lived however, and he was transferred into a French mental hospital suffering from stress, where he underwent psychiatric treatment, including electroshock therapy, for a nervous breakdown.

In 1962, in the wake of his nervous breakdown, Saint Laurent was released from Dior and started his own label, YSL, financed by his companion, Pierre Bergé. The Rive Gauche boutiques for women were established in 1966, and men's wear followed in the 1970s.


- His muse has long been Catherine Deneuve.

- YSL's partner, Pierre Berge, was fined 1 million Francs for insider-trading in 1996. In 1992, he sold Yves Saint Laurent shares right before alarming economic figures about the company were published.

- Although his sexuality was hardly a secret in the fashion world, YSL did not publicly acknowledge his homosexuality until 1991, in an interview in the French newspaper, Le Figaro.


'YSL' is perhaps most famous for "Le Smoking" tuxedo jacket, see-through blouses, peasant blouses, bolero jackets, pantsuits and smocks. By feminising the basic shapes of the male wardrobe, YSL set new standards for world fashion. He not only adapted the male tuxedo for women, but also safari jackets, pea jackets and flying suits.

An important source of inspiration for both his clothing and his choice of runway models was his childhood in Africa. He was also the first major designer to use models from a variety of different ethnic backgrounds.

His 1971 radical ‘40s’ collection shocked critics, as did the advertising campaign for the first YSL men’s fragrance, ‘Pour Homme’ which featured Yves himself posing nude
for his own perfume ads. This was shocking to many people. He did it to raise this question: Why is it more socially acceptable when a woman poses nude for an advertisement than when a man does?


In 1977, YSL launched the very popular ‘Opium’ perfume.

In 1993, the Saint Laurent fashion house was sold to the pharmaceuticals company, Sanofi, for approximately $600,000,000.

YSL held a 300-model fashion extravaganza at the final match of the 1998 World Cup football tournament in the Stade de France, and the following year he was awarded a 'Lifetime Achievement’ award from The Council of Fashion Designers of America.

Since his retirement, Saint Laurent had become increasingly reclusive and spent much of his time at his house in Marrakech, Morocco.

YSL- No more

The Gucci Group, which acquired the Yves Saint Laurent fashion house in 1999, said the designer's death "leaves a great emptiness but also a sublime inheritance."
"This genius of creation shattered the codes to create French elegance which today makes Paris a grand capital of fashion," Gucci said.


President Nicolas Sarkozy praised Saint Laurent for "putting his mark on a half-century of creation, in luxury as well as ready-to-wear." First lady Carla Bruni-Sarkozy, who graced Saint Laurent's runway during her modeling career, said she had a "heavy heart" on learning of his death.

Today Yves Saint Laurent's collections include women's and men's ready-to-wear, shoes, handbags, small leather goods, jewellery, scarves, ties and eyewear. They are designed for both modern women who have a keen sense of freedom and follow their instincts with assurance, captivating others with their elegance, as well as men who prefer a nonconformist look and assert the different facets of their personality in a modern and sensitive way.

The Yves Saint Laurent network currently has 63 directly-operated stores, including flagship stores in Paris, New York, London, Milan, Hong Kong and Tokyo. The brand is also present in the most prestigious multi-brand boutiques and department stores in the world.


mercredi 11 juin 2008



Gibran Khalil Gibran
___________________________________________________________________

Artist, poet, novelist, and philosopher, Gibran Khalil Gibran emigrated from Lebanon to the United States in 1895. In 1904, he had his first exhibit in Boston and by 1908 he was attending the Académie Julian in Paris, where he exhibited his work in the Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts. During that time, he also studied with the sculptor Auguste Rodin. In 1912, Gibran settled in New York, where he would remain until his death. His drawings and paintings are mystical, with lyrical movements of ethereal figures or portraits that enter a landscape like apparitions. His work often explores the symbols and elements of nature, time, and space while pushing the boundaries between physicality and spirituality. Gibran is best known for his writings, specifically The Prophet, which has been translated into more than twenty languages.


Sketch for Jesus the Son of Man, ca. 1923
Gibran Khalil Gibran (American, born Lebanon, 1883–1931)


“The reality of the other person lies not in what he reveals to you, but what he cannot reveal to you.
Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says, but rather to what he does not say.”

“ I was dead. I was a woman who had divorced her soul”

  • If you reveal your secrets to the wind, you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.
  • I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers.
  • Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children.
  • Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair but manifestations of strength and resolution.
  • The reality of the other person lies not in what he reveals to you, but what he cannot reveal to you. Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says, but rather to what he does not say.
  • If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were.
  • Safeguarding the rights of others is the most noble and beautiful end of a human being.
  • Strange that creatures without backbones have the hardest shells.
  • Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity.
  • There must be something strangely sacred about salt. It is in our tears and in the sea.
  • When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

  • For Kahlil Gibran no single religious tradition revealed the whole truth about life so he wove together insights from Eastern Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, American Transcendentalism, and the folklore of his native Lebanon to create his own universal "Anthem of Humanity" ... he attacks narrow-mindedness, clerical hypocrisy and political injustice, and issues a declaration of faith in life itself.
    • Editorial synopsis on the back jacket of the Penguin edition of The Vision: Reflections on the Way of the Soul (1994) as translated by Juan R. I. Cole
  • In truth, The Prophet is a work of such universal appeal that there is little to be gained from speculating on the identity of persons or places represented in it. For Gibran's purpose was a lofty one, and his belief in the 'unity of being', which led him to call for universal fellowship and the unification of the human race, is a message which retains its potency today as do the messages of all great poets. Inspired by his experiences in a country far from the land of his origins, he strove to resolve cultural and human conflict, in the process developing a unique genre of writing, and transcending the barriers of East and West as few have done before or since. He became not only Gibran of Lebanon, but Gibran of America, indeed Gibran the voice of global consciousness: a voice which increasingly demands to be heard in the continuing Age of Anxiety.
    • Dr. Suheil Bashrui, editor of Kahlil Gibran: A Spiritual Treasury, as quoted in "Khalil Gibran (1883-1931) - A Voice of Consciousness" by Manbir Singh Chowdhary in SikhSpectrum.com Quarterly No.16 (May 2004)
_______________________________________________________________________

lundi 9 juin 2008

Amrita Pritam

Amrita Pritam ji is considered the first prominent woman Punjabi poet, novelist, and essayist. She was born in Guranwala, (Punjab) Pakistan on August 31 1919. She died on 31st October 2005 at the age of 86 in Hauz Khas (New Delhi), after a long illness, survived by her daughter, son and grandson. Amrita's mother died when she was eleven and the only child of her parents. Soon after, she and her father moved to Lahore. Confronting adult responsibilities, she began to write at an early age. Her first collection was published when she was only sixteen years old, the year she married Pritam Singh, an editor to whom she was engaged in early childhood.

When the former British India was partitioned into the independent states of India and Pakistan, she migrated to New Delhi, India in 1947.Like many others; she lived the agony of partition when millions of people from all religions died due to communal violence. She expressed her agony in this poem, "Aaj Aakhaan Waris Shah Noo", addressed to the Sufi poet Waris Shah, author of the tragic saga of Heer and Ranjah, the Punjabi national epic. This poem is my personal favorite one, screening her tenderness of pain caused due to the flames of fire of partition 1947, and I think this is one of the signature poems where she challenges the literature of Punjab,

Utth dard-mandaan dey dardiyaa tak apna Punjab
Beyley laashaan vichhiyaan
Teh lahoo da bharya Chenab

(Sharer of stricken hearts,
Look at your Punjab,
Corpses are strewn in the field
Blood flows in the Chenab.)


Her story cannot be completed without the name of Sahir Ludhianvi. She was involved with him when she asked her husband for divorce. But Sahir then found a new woman in his life. The journey of life of Amrita ji would not be completed without even conversing about Sahir ji. A bachelor to the end, Sahir fell in love with writer Amrita Pritam and singer Sudha Malhotra, relationships that never fructified in the conventional sense and left him sad. Ironically, the two ladies' fathers wouldn't accept Sahir, an atheist, because of his perceived religion. A young Amrita Pritam, madly in love with Sahir, wrote his name hundreds of times on a sheet of paper while addressing a press conference. They would meet without exchanging a word, Sahir would puff away; after Sahir's departure, Amrita would smoke the cigarette butts left behind by him. After his death, Amrita said she hoped the air mixed with the smoke of the butts would travel to the other world and meet Sahir! Such was their obsession and intensity.

There was a grief I smoked
in silence, like a cigarette

only a few poems fell
out of the ash I flicked from it.

Amrita grew closer to Imroz whom she had known for many years. Amrita Pritam lived the last forty years of her life with the renowned artist, Imroz. The eminent Punjabi poet and novelist is worthy of much more than what she has been given the acknowledgment. This beautiful young woman has a audacious story, she began her literary voyage in Lahore in 1935 when she penned her first book of verse in Punjabi called Thandian Kirnan. She considered being pioneer woman writing in Punjabi, portraying Punjabi culture, thoughts, literature, and comptemprary art of living.

Professionally she worked for All India Radio. From 1960, after her divorce she worked primarily for woman society. Some of her stories and poems depicted clearly the unhappy incidents of her marriage. A number of her works have been translated into English, French, Japanese and other languages from Punjabi and Urdu, including her autobiographical works Black Rose and Revenue Stamp (Raseedi Tikkat in Punjabi).

Also wrote many books which were filmed later i.g. Daaku (Dacoit), Pinjar (The Skeleton) a novel based on the torments of partition. She received many awards including Padma Vibhushan (India's second highest civilian award), Sahitya Akademi Award etc.

Since childhood, we are reading her work. During my stays in Punjab, her name was taken with great respect and her literature found the place in Schools and Universities and so do in the hearts of many people, bookshelves used to be filled with books, magazines and her fine oeuvre. One poem I remember very well “Main kal tak nahi rehna,” was sung by many folk artists of Punjab and get in touch with masses.

Recently, Gulzar (Famous Indian poet and Film maker) released an album (Gulzar presents Amrita Pritam), rendering himself dozens of her poems and his poetic views. Gulzar says “Amrita ji, Amrita Pritam ji has travelled whole 20th century on pages of Punjabi poetry. Once crossed the threshold of 20th century, her body fatigued, soul was fresh even then. Perhaps she got up to walk and Imroz held her hand, who was her travel companion from last century. She turned back, but his hand was not moved away, not even his fingers and she said “Main tenu phir milangi” (I will meet you again)”

Mein tainu pher milan gi (I will meet you yet again)

I will meet you yet again
How and where? I know not.
Perhaps I will become a
figment of your imagination
and maybe, spreading myself
in a mysterious line
on your canvas,
I will keep gazing at you.

Perhaps I will become a ray
of sunshine, to be
embraced by your colours.
I will paint myself on your canvas
I know not how and where –
but I will meet you for sure.

Maybe I will turn into a spring,
and rub the foaming
drops of water on your body,
and rest my coolness on
your burning chest.
I know nothing else
but that this life
will walk along with me.

When the body perishes,
all perishes;
but the threads of memory
are woven with enduring specks.
I will pick these particles,
weave the threads,
and I will meet you yet again.

-Amrita Pritam.

(Translated by Nirupama Dutt and published in The Little Magazine2005)

The Album follows her other beautiful poems as O Sai Tere Charkhe Ne, Rang De Dupatta Mera, Channa De Phulkari, Rishte Ghadde Da Pani, Kufr which is on the pains of Partition, Aye Mere Dost, Mere Ajbabi and the famous Akkha Waris Shah that has immortalised her. The last part begins with Amrita promising Imroz again that she will come back to him. It concludes with a poem by Imroz Beej on Amrita that dawned on him after she died.

Courtesy- Amrita Pritam recited by Gulzar

PHOTO


Amrita Pritam and Imroz

The Story So Far

No one can really judge the real relationship of Amrita Pritam ji with Imroz. Imroz by profession is a painter and is less knowned than Amrita Ji. The married life of Amrita ji with her husband was not in good health, she was a great admirer of well know poet and lyricist Sahir Ludhianvi. She divorced her husband to seek love shelter from Sahir, but relationship ruptured with Sahir too. At this time (1960s) Imroz, who was previously a friend of Amritaji, provided emotional hold and their liaison began growing. Being younger to Amrita ji and living in Indian high values society, Imroz still gave her soul companionship. Amrita ji and Imroz were great soul mates never lived but they shared the floors of same house in Delhi along with children. She used to write very long letters, poetic, full of emotions and pathos to Imroz. She used to address Imroz as “Mere Mehboob” (My beloved) and discuss many themes of the social order and society. Their love remained a ‘sacred hymn’ and became a pure platonic saga of love.

When I wrapped myself with your being

Our bodies turned inwards in contemplation

Our limbs intertwined

Like blossoms in a garland

Like an offering at the altar of the spirit

Our names, slipping out of our lips,

Became a sacred hymn . . .

Their influences

Amritaji never lived life sadly, contrary she was pensive and thoughtful person and so do Imroz, both the artistes filled their gloomy emotions in their work (Nazms, poems and Canvases) but never in their lives. I am a great admirer of both the artistes, and about their handling of delicate sort of relationship. Their love was never bound of physical terms of limits but it went beyond that in the form of words, canvas, poems, colours, ideas, thoughts etc. I feel like that their love for each other is complementary and paired to each other. When Amrita ji writes a poem, it shows the different images and insights of Punjabi cultures and satires. The same way when Imroz lays emotion on canvas, metamorphic scenes and words ponders through mind and senses. I remember very well the renowned portrait of One of the great poets of Punjab Shiv Kumar Batalvi (King of Sorrow) made by Imroz. You can see here

PHOTO


When Mr Jagjit Singh was recording this album, Shiv Kumar Batalvi was in hospital in Shimla and later he died on May 7 1973 at the age of 37. Shiv was apparently deeply in love with a girl who passed away suddenly. Shiv's phenomenal approach towards the meaning of solitude makes him stand at the top of all those poets who have ever described loneliness. Shiv as the traditional poetical phenomenon was born out of the literary conjugation (kalmi sanjog) of Amrita Pritam and Professor Mohan Singh, to whom he appropriately dedicated his most important creation, Birha Toon Sultan (which means Separation thou art The King).

During the same period Jagjit Singh wanted his photo for the cover of Album but could not find any so he approached Imroz for the same. As you can see this portrait has been done by Imroz and forward has been written by Amrita Pritam for this Album.


Here is an article written by Amrita Pritam ji admiring Shiv kumar Batalvi for the album cover of Jagjit Singh and Chitra Singh’s Album called Birha da Sultan released in 1976.

“Shiv kumar Batalvi is the only modern Punjabi poet who sung like a phoenix and his own fire eventually consumed him.

One day while taking to me he asked, “Who has sown the seeds of sigh in my chest? Who has transplanted sorrows in my thoughts? I am a sigh escaping from a woman’s womb, moist with cold sweat…I am a shrill cry of a lonely bird in the sky of her womb. I am a falling star in the ocean of her milk… like a dying ember in her hearth.”

And he added, “I shoved the sigh in the pocket of my life, which gradually rusted, a coloured sigh has a thousand names – broken promises, agonising pains… one day the coloured lips get burnt, the death of my first love quietened them, my sigh tried to commit suicide, but there were a few friends – a few commitments – a few dreams held it back, probably the unfulfilled dreams were reaching out for fulfilment. They were drenched in the spring of pain and flowers of hope blossomed… the hope did not die, nor did the life. These, my songs, are the wounded birds and their painful moans are my poetry.”

And he started living intensely, in a breathless haste. He embraced the whole Punjab in his tender arms and held tight the land, the trees and even the thorny cactus.

And now when he is no more with us, I feel the ‘king of sorrow’ has gone to god to borrow some fresh and virgin pains.

HMV offers this magnificent Long Play Record as its humble tribute to the great poet.”

(-Amrita Pritam)

Her Poetry

Waris Shah— Ajj Akhan Waris Shah Nu ( Her best-known work is a classic poem, addressed to the great eighteenth-century Sufi poet Waris Shah, in which she laments the carnage of Partition and calls on him to give voice from his grave.)

Poem [PUNJABI]

Ajj aakhan waaris shah noo kiton qabran vichon bol!
te aj kitab-e-ishq da koi agla varka phol!

ik roi si dhee punjab dee tuu likh-likh mare vain
aj lakkhan dheeyan rondian tainuun waaris shah noon kahan

uth darmandan diaa dardiaa uth tak apna punjaab!
aj bele laashaan vichiiaan te lahu dii bharii chenaab!

kise ne panja paanian vich dittii zahir rala!
te unhaan paaniaan dharat nun dittaa paanii laa!

jitthe vajdii phuuk pyaar di ve oh vanjhli gayi guaach
ranjhe de sab veer aj bhul gaye usdi jaach

dharti te lahu vasiya, qabran payiyan chon
preet diyan shaahazaadiiaan aj vich mazaaraan ron

aj sab ‘qaido’ ban gaye, husn ishq de chor
aj kithon liaaiie labbh ke waaris shah ik hor

aj aakhan waaris shah noon kiton qabran vichon bol!
te aj kitab-e-ishq da koi agla varka phol!

Poem [ENGLISH TRANSLATION]

I say to Waris Shah today, speak from your grave
And add a new page to your book of love

Once one daughter of Punjab wept, and you wrote your long saga;
Today thousands weep, calling to you Waris Shah:

Arise, o friend of the afflicted; arise and see the state of Punjab,
Corpses strewn on fields, and the Chenaab flowing with much blood.

Someone filled the five rivers with poison,
And this same water now irrigates our soil.

Where was lost the flute, where the songs of love sounded?
And all Ranjha’s brothers forgotten to play the flute.

Blood has rained on the soil, graves are oozing with blood,
The princesses of love cry their hearts out in the graveyards.

Today all the Quaido’ns have become the thieves of love and beauty,
Where can we find another one like Waris Shah?

Waris Shah! I say to you, speak from your grave
And add a new page to your book of love.

(This translation is taken from book in English by Darshan Singh Maini called STUDIES IN PUNJABI POETRY)

Poem [FRENCH TRANSLATION]

J'invoque aujourd'hui Varis Shah

J'invoque aujourd'hui Varis Shah : « Parle, de n'importe où, de ta tombe,
et du livre de l'amour aujourd'hui tourne encore une page !
Une fille avait pleuré, une enfant du Panjab, et tu écrivis une élégie.
Les filles sont aujourd'hui des milliers à pleurer, qui te disent, Varis Shah :

"Lève-toi, sympathisant des malheureux, lève-toi, regarde ton Panjab !
Le marais est aujourd'hui jonché de cadavres et pleine de sang la Chenab.
Quelqu'un aux cinq rivières a mêlé du poison
et la terre a été arrosée de leur eau.
Du poison a germé dans chaque parcelle de cette terre fertile,
qui s'est un peu partout couverte de taches rouges et de calamités.

Un vent vénéneux alors a soufflé sur les forêts,
de chaque flûte en roseau il a fait un serpent
et voici que les serpents ont hypnotisé les gens et mordu, mordu ;
en tout lieu le corps du Panjab a bleui.

Les chants ont rompu avec les gorges, les fils avec les fuseaux,
les compagnes avec les parties de filage; les rouets se sont tus.
Luddan a fait couler le bateau-lit,
la balançoire aujourd'hui a cassé les branches du pipal.
Elle est perdue cette flûte où chantait le souffle de l'amour
et les frères de Ranjha ont tous oublié comment il en jouait.

Le sang s'est épanché sur le sol, il s'écoule des tombes.
Les princesses de l'amour pleurent dans les sanctuaires.

Tous aujourd'hui sont devenus des Kaido, voleurs d'amour et de beauté.
Où trouver aujourd'hui un autre Varis Shah ?" »

J'invoque aujourd'hui Varis Shah : "Parle, de n'importe où, de ta tombe,
et du livre de l'amour aujourd'hui tourne encore une page !"

(Translated in French by Denis Matringe from PunjabiTraduits du panjabi par Denis Matringe /"La Vérité" - Traduit du panjabi par Denis Matringe (135 p.) - 1989, Editions des femmes)

Amrita Pritam never woke up on the afternoon of October 31, 2005 and the world is emptier without her musings. She embodied the fullness of poetic expression, creativity and the intensity of a woman in the perpetual state of love. Amrita’s voice was rooted in the South Asian idiom with all its contradictions, diversity and a faint recognition of fate. Her remarkable affinity with the depths of the Punjabi language adds to her iconoclastic status in India, Pakistan and wherever Punjabi is spoken and appreciated. Yet her audience has been global as well: her work was translated into dozens of world languages.

Amrita Pritam is not dead; her dreams of peace, universal love and triumph of humanism will continue to shape our collective memories. This is not a time to mourn but to acknowledge that Amrita has crossed another milestone in her quest for self-knowledge and love. Au revoir, Amrita!

One of her poems makes the following confession:

Today I have erased the number of my house
And removed the stain of identity on my street’s forehead
And I have wiped the direction on each road
But if you really want to meet me
Then knock at the doors of every country
Every city, every street
And wherever a glimpse of a free spirit exists
That will be my home

(Translation found from Outlook India)

Presenting you her extract from an article Visions of Divinity for a magazine called Life Positive, published on April 1996. She expresses her visions over spiritualities

“This happened in 1999, in the early hours of March 14. When I woke, I was astonished, but happy. And for almost a year, I was under the spell of this question—that Sai had been concerned with my well-being. Almost a year passed and much later,one day, I was lighting some incense in front of Sai Baba when I sensed that I was not the one holding the stick of incense, but had myself become the incense, the incense that wanted to burn at the shrine of Sai. And this whole experience came to life, word by word, and set itself down on paper. Sai, please give me a little bit of fire from your chillum...


I am your incense and for a little while will burn at your shrine.
I have kneaded your passion into my own clay.
When this body smolders, smoke will rise.
This body's smoke will flicker and will say only this much-
Whatever breezes pass through' these touch your breath, I want to become one with those breezes.

Sai, please give me a little bit of fire from your chillum.....
I am your incense and for a little while will burn at your shrine.
No, I won't say anything.
When the incense burns a delicate fragrance will say something in a whisper and then my body, turning to ashes, will touch your feet. It must become one with the earth of your shrine.

Sai, Please give me a little bit of fire from your chillum....
I am your incense and for a little while will burn at your shrine.”

I hope you liked this exhaustive editorial on the legendary Amrita Pritam ji which I wanted to write since long, I feel she is the only lady from Punjab who overturned the pages of history in her own ways and many great writers like Mr Khushwant Singh still believes that she is the most influential Indian woman from Punjab . I welcome you to leave your comments and notes.

Thank you

Anil Vohra

Paris France

jeudi 5 juin 2008

Jagjit Singh on Surabhi

A really good video showing him in relaxed and informal way in his daily life.




Voice of God- Jagjit Singh

Many people in Western cultures believe that profession of the Devil is not other than that of Musician. Some says “Devil has the magic and holds invisible powers, so do a musician who strings waves in the air and creates a magic.” I strongly believe with lot of evident experience the similar kind of magic in the music of Mr Jagjit Singh. Myself have been sacred of such an artiste who surpassed the magic of God in his own given vicinity of music.

I’ve learnt that Mr Singh is creating this magic aesthetically contrasting from classes to masses. He strongly does believe in great public’s emotion and making connections with mass audiences, understanding the emotional mechanism of humankind. Appealing to large number of audiences from young to elder ones, touching the maximum number of people and connecting to them compassionately. I am listening to this legend since my childhood and grown up feeling and living his music. Whenever I used to shop for some music I used to locate many excuses or reasons to buy his music, sometimes awkwardly starts appreciating his art among friends who don’t even know about what music stands for. I do agree that I don’t call myself one and only connoisseur for this art, but do have some knacks and good nose for it.

Being an outstanding singer who constantly use in-depth knowledge of music, ragas, khyals and take care of all kind of parameters not to adulterate the soul of the song or thought of the poet. He has rendered all the leading poet of all times and in many languages, to name a few Mirja Ghalib, Shiv kumar Batalvi (Punjabi), Bulleh Shah, Ghulam Farid, Kabir, Saint Nanak, Meera, Kalidas, Soordas, Sudarshan Faakir, Qateel Shifai, Muzaffar Warsi, Meer Taqi Meer, Zauq, Ameer Minai, Jigar Moradabadi, Maulana Hasrat Mohani, Ibn-e-insha, Gulzar, Javed Akhtar and list goes on and on. Singing from the Traditional, conventional poets to modern, contemporary poets, hymning the sufi writings of bhakti rass saints and nobles. Compassing in every manner of traditional and sophisticated music, including some foot taping Punjabi songs, classical renditions in various ragas etc. He became such a unique artiste who never cared about the trends of the outside world, created his own world of music apart. Reckoning millions of listeners, fans, lovers from across the globe falling in that world of music where he is the only creator (God). What astonishes is that, artiste who is enjoying his early works, never paused or laidback but appeared sincere, incessant creator of innumerable melodies.

Nowadays when technology has been flawlessly adapted daily lives and people come up with virtual communities and fan clubs makes easier to discuss, share tête-à-tête beliefs, thoughts and ideas. Priorydejs.com is one of the examples of such phenomena reaching to the excellence of creating an event for widespread people with uncommon savours of music.

Pleas leave your comments on this article and I welcome you all to visit my blog also anilvohra.blogspot.com

Anil Vohra

Paris, France
Dated 04/06/2008