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Imran Khan wrote:the all time fav Iqbal"s Verse are from " Shikwa , jawabe Shikwa"
Dil se jo baat nikalti hain , asar rakhti hain ,
Par nahi taqat- e- Parwaaz magar rakhti hain ...
Ki Mohammed se wafa Tune to hum tera hain
Yeh jahen cheez hain kya' lau - wo- kalam tera hain [/b]
Sir Muhammad Iqbal : Divinely Creative
Iqbal wrote on a variety of subjects and his views changed with the times. It is not therefore wise to try to attach labels to him. To the Indian nationalist he appears a fervent nationalist who wrote, 'Of all the countries in the world, the best is our Hindustan, sarey jahan se accha Hindustan hamara, exhorted Hindus and Muslims to come together, build new shrines where they could worship together and who regarded every speck of dust of his country as divine. At the same time he considered Indian Muslims to be a people apart from other Indians. And while proclaiming that Islam did not recognise national boundaries, he supported the demand for a separate state for Indian Muslims. At one time Iqbal exhorted the peasantry to rise against its oppressors, uproot the mansions of the rich and set fire to crops which did not provide sustenance for them. At another time he wrote qaseedas (eulogies) in praise of kings and princes from whom he received patronage. It could be said that Iqbal sang in many voices: he was a nationalist as well as an internationalist, a Marxist revolutionary as well as a supporter of traditional Muslim values and a pan-Islamist. Iqbal was oblivious of these contradictions. If he was consistent in anything, it was in the quality of his compositions. Whatever he wrote was born of passion and executed with the skill of a master craftsman. Few poets of the world have been able to cram so much erudition and philosophy in verse; and fewer still use words both as colours on an artist's palette to paint pictures as well as deploy them as notes of a lute to create music. He was fired by a creative zeal which could only be explained as divinely inspired. It is no wonder that although a devout Muslim, Iqbal could not resist the temptation to bandy words with God. The poems here translated are only two examples of man the creator questioning the ordinances of the Creator of mankind and the universe.
It would not be correct to explain the various facets of Iqbal's writing and his inconsistencies as the process of development of his personality. It is best to take what comes as it comes and if it appears to be at variance with something he had said before to shrug one's shoulders, relax and enjoy the poetry. Scholars talk of Iqbal's philosophy as if it were logically developed scheme of values. It is not. His earlier poems breathe a sense of disbelief in the world; like the Hindus he regarded it as an illusion(maya) and like them he spoke of the futility of striving. Three years in Europe (1905-1908) brought about a complete reversal in his beliefs. The world became real; life had a purpose to serve; latent in every man was a superman who could be roused to his full height by ceaseless striving to create a better world. This post-European phase has been designed as Iqbal's philosophy of khudi. It is yet another word that eludes exact translation. Khudi , is self khudi could be selfhood. Khud could be the ego; khudi, the super-ego. As used by Iqbal what comes closest to khudi is assertive will-power imbued with moral values. This is apparent from these oft-quoted lines:
Khudi ko kar baland itna
Ki har taqdeer sey pehley
Khuda bandey ko khud poocchey
Bata, 'Teri raza kya hai?'
Endow your will with such power
That at every turn of fate it so be
That God Himself asks of His slave
'What is it that pleases thee?'
What exactly did Iqbal want human beings to strive for? Obviously towards some kind of perfection. But he does not care to spell it out in any detail. It would appear that for man ceaseless striving was not to be for material gains in this world or with an eye on rewards in life hereafter. It was to be utterly selfless and motivated by love for mankind. The world Iqbal uses for this kind of striving is faqr from which the word faqir is derived. For Iqbal it does not mean beggary but quite the opposite: it means pride in the little that comes from righteous endeavour(kasb-i-hilal). Thus to Iqbal a man who inherits wealth without having striven for it is worse than a beggar, while a poor man who works for the good of humanity is truly rich. Iqbal's combination of khudi and faqr comes close to the Hindu concept of nishkama karma (action without expectation of reward) lauded in the Gita. Iqbal writes:
Yaqeen mahkam, amal paiham,
Mohabbat fateh-i-alam;
Jehad-e-zindgani men
Hain yeh mardon kee shamsheeren.
In man's crusade of life these weapons has he:
Conviction that his cause is just;
Resolution to strive till eternity;
Compassion that embraces all humanity.
- Khushwant Singh
Visit:
http://www.musicalnirvana.com/ghazal/iq ... icles.html
Dr. Allama Muhammad Iqbal
Dr. Allama Muhammad Iqbal (November 9, 1877-April 21, 1938) was an important Indian Muslim poet, philosopher and thinker of Kashmiri origin. A major Urdu writer of India, he is in the unusual position of having penned one of India's major national songs (Sare Jahan Se Accha) while at the same time being credited with being a major force behind the creation of Pakistan. He is posthumously revered in Pakistan as Muffakir-e-Pakistan. Along with Muhammad Ali Jinnah he is considered one of the preeminent founding fathers of Pakistan ...
One of the last great things he did was to establish the Adarah Darul Islam, an institution where studies in classical Islam and contemporary social science would be subsidized. It was perhaps the last wish of a great man who was fascinated with the yoking of modern science and philosophy to Islam, to create bridges of understanding at the highest intellectual level. This thought he expressed thus:
In the West, Intellect is the source of life,
In the East, Love is the basis of life.
Through Love, Intellect grows acquainted with Reality,
And Intellect gives stability to the work of Love,
Arise and lay the foundations of a new world,
By wedding Intellect to Love.
# Iqbal died on April 12, 1938 in Lahore, India (in what after 1947 became a part of (Pakistan). He is buried near the entrance of the Badshai Mosque in that city.
# Allama Iqbal International Airport (formerly Lahore International Airport) was recently renamed after him).
Visit:
http://www.e-paranoids.com/m/mu/muhammad_iqbal.html
Iqbal Poetry ... English Translation
*
agar kowee shuaib aaye muyassar
shabani say kaleemi do qadam hay
The breath of a spiritual mentor is refreshing as a morning breeze
It brings freshness to the dry fiber of understanding
If the company of a pious priest were obtainable
A word-with-God is a step away from sheep-rearing*
(* this refers to the Biblical & Quranic narration that Moses spent quite a few years serving and rearing sheep of his father-in-law who was a pious man, before God spoke with Moses on top of mount Sinai)
**
isee kash-makash mein guzrein meree zindagi kee raatein
kabhee soz o saaz e rumi, kabhee pech o taab e razi
I passed the nights of my life rest-less in confusion
at times the passion and fire of Rumi*, others the juggling of Razi*
(*Rumi was a mystic, a sufi poet of the 13th century. Razi was a theologian who believed the supremacy of logic over everything else)
- The poetry pages are dedicated to the loving memory of
who was my Urdu teacher in 7th and 8th grade. I have yet to come across a teacher who teaches in a more loving way than he did. I am most thankful to him for instilling in me a sense of appreciation of the beauty that poetry is. Here is a poem, Jang e Yarmuk Ka Aik Waqia by Allama Iqbal. This poem was one of his favourites, and he used to sing it to us in class.
Visit:
http://www.ece.utexas.edu/~sheikh/poetry/poetry.html
http://www.ece.utexas.edu/~sheikh/poetry/iqbal.html
Faiz Ahmad Faiz Poetry ... A Prayer
A Prayer
Come, let us join our hands in prayer.
We, who can not remember the exact ritual
We, who, except the passion and fire of Love,
do not recall any god, remember no idol.
Let us beseech, that may the Divine Sketcher
mix a sweet future in the present's poison
For those who can't bear the burden of time,
the rolling of days on their souls, may He lighten
Those, whose eyes dont have in their fate, the rosy cheek of dawn
may He set for them some flame alight.
For those, whose steps know no path
may He show their eyes some way in the night.
May those whose faith is following falsehood and pomp
have the courage to deny, the boldness to discover.
May those whose heads wait for the oppressors sword
have the ability to push off the hand of the executioner.
This secret of Love, which has put the soul on fire,
may we express it today and the burning be gone.
This word of Truth that pricks in the core of the heart,
may we say it today and the itching be gone.
(Independence Day, 14 August 1967)
Visit:
http://www.ece.utexas.edu/~sheikh/poetry/faiz/dua.html
Faiz Ahmad Faiz Poetry ... Some Lover to Some Beloved!
Some Lover to Some Beloved!
Down the memory lanes, on which
you've strolled since ages past
They will end if you walk farther a step or two
Where exits the turn towards the wilderness of forgetfulness
beyond which, there isn't any Me, nor any You
My eyes hold their breath, for any moment you
may turn back, move ahead, or at least turn to look back
Although my sight knows that the wish is just a farce
For if ever it were to run across your eyes again
right there will spring forth another pathway
Like always, where ever we run into, there will begin
another journey of your lock's shadow, your embrace's tremor
The other wish is also in error, for my heart knows
There is no turn here, no wilderness, no mountain-range
beyond whose horizon, my perpetual sun-of-your-Love can set
May you continue walking these pathways, its better this way
If you don't even turn to look back, it is okay
(Prison-Journal)
Visit:
http://www.ece.utexas.edu/~sheikh/poetr ... ashiq.html
Ikraar naa kiya naa sahi is baat ka gham nahi ..
Inkaar bhi to nahi kiya yeh bhi kam nahi
Ek umeed hai dil mein ki woh izhaar karenge
Yeh umeed hai to hum hain warna hum nahi
Visit:
http://midnightedition.com/havesay/show ... p?QID=3950
*
Visit:
http://www.mushaira.org/audio/redir.php ... aadil-1.rm
**
Aisa Kyon Hai
Aisa kyon hay
Keh ab insan bhi
Samjhte nahin
Ik doojay ki kahi
Aisa kyon hay
Baat Sun kar bhi
Samjhte nahin
Sun kar bhi unsuni
Aisa kyon hay
Dukh dekh kar bhi
Samjhte nahin
Madawa kartay nahi
Aisa kyon hay
Har insan nay
Gird apnay hi
Ik deewar chun li
Aisa kyon hay
Koi awaz sunta nahin
Koi bahir dekhta nahin
Koi sochta nahin
Aisa kyon hay
Kay hamaray dilon mein
Apnay siwa kisi kay liye
Koi dard nahin
Koi aas nahin
Aisa kyon hay
Kay hamari soch ka
Markaz ham hi
Aur koi fikar nahi
Aisa kyon hay
Apni awaz sunta har koi
Apni baat samjhta har koi
Apni fikar karta har koi
Aisa kyon hay
Sab ghalt hein
Dirf mein sahi
Sirf mein khara
Khota har koi
Aisa Kyon Hay
- Zarqa Mufti, Lahore, Punjab, Pakistan, 7 Feb 2005
Visit:
http://www.mushaira.org/humorous.php
http://www.mushaira.org/rp.php?code=1476
Lucifer wrote:I dunno if this is the right place, but what the heck! Here is an original.
Yeh InteAh nahi ibteda hai
Hain baaki nibhaane kai kirdaar
Jahen naseeb honge woh dekhne waale
Ki adaaye waqt ko shikast ki aarzoo hai
Urdu Poetry! ... Utterly Pleasing ...
Last night your faded memory filled my heart
Like spring's calm and advent in the wilderness,
Like the soft desert footfalls of the breeze,
Like peace somehow coming to one in sickness.
- Faiz Ahmed Faiz
DO you know the translator of these lines? Victor Gordon Kiernan. He is 90 plus and lives with his wife Heather in the tiny village of Stow in Scotland. Thanks to Prakash Karat, the editor of this book, and Leftword Books, the publishing house, a lot more people would have access to some of Kiernan's writings.
Most leading historians in South Asia build their reputation on, and bask in the sunshine of, their published Ph.D. By contrast, the range, diversity and voluminousness of Kiernan's scholarly output are truly impressive. His best-known works are on modern imperialism ...
Kiernan's reminiscences of India, though brief and sketchy, have been published for the first time in this collection ... One of the stories he narrates relates to the I.N.A. Trials of three officers — a Muslim, a Sikh, and a Hindu — at the Red Fort. The three travelled to Lahore on the same train as Kiernan. Here is a fragment from his memory: "At every halt jubilant crowds had gathered; at Lahore the big square outside the station was packed, every inch, by an immense multitude — it was quite a while before I could find a way out. Tragically, this was the last time that the three communities could feel their brotherhood; before long they would be at one another's throats, the three heroes forgotten."
In South Asia, Kiernan is widely known and respected in literary circles for translating Muhammad Iqbal and Faiz. What is probably not so well known is that he spent some of his creative years in India from 1938 to 1946 ... he taught at the Sikh National College and the Aitchison College in Lahore, north India's leading cultural, literary and educational centre. Lahore was then the home of several renowned Urdu poets and writers associated with the Progressive Writers' Movement. His translations of Iqbal and Faiz were the result of this encounter. Between the two, he noticed a curious medley of contrasts and resemblances. In his introduction to Poems by Faiz, he commented on this aspect with utmost sensitivity and brought out the contrast in the colouring of their work. Iqbal was fond of the standard image of moth and candle; Faiz was loyal to that of garden and rosebed, a rosebed now as likely as not to typify the masses, the poor, buffeted by the rude winds of tyranny. At the same time, Kirernan discerned how Iqbal and Faiz shared the desire to alter the society, how they both looked abroad for ideas as well as home, and how they belonged very deeply to the Punjab.
Across Time and Continents is a wonderfully pleasant tribute to a leading Marxist historian and a friend of the people of India and South Asia. Again, as Hobsbawm, the master historian of our times, observes: "His writings will outlive his death, but when he and those who have known him in person are gone, there will be no way of knowing quite how remarkable a human being Victor Gordon Kiernan was, and how those who knew him were so glad to be his contemporaries." While reading these lines, I was reminded of the following lines from Faiz Ahmed Faiz that Kiernan translated with such skill:
On gate and roof a crushing load of silence —
From heaven a flowing tide of desolation —
The moon's pale beams, whispered regrets, lying
In pools ebbing away on dusty highroads —
In the abodes of sleep a half formed darkness —
From Nature's harp a dying strain of music
On muted strings faintly, faintly lamenting.
That Is Urdu Poetry! ... Utterly Pleasing! ...
aa bhii jaao kii zindagii kam hai ...
aa bhii jaao kii zindagii kam hai
tum nahii.n ho to har Khushii kam hai
vaadaa kar ke ye kaun aayaa nahii.n
shahar me.n aaj raushanii kam hai
jaane kyaa ho gayaa hai mausam ko
dhuup ziyaadaa hai chaa.Ndanii kam hai
aa_iinaa dekh kar Khayaal aayaa
aaj kal un kii dostii kam hai
tere dam se hii mai.n mukammal huu.N
bin tere terii 'Yamini' kam hai
- Yamini Das
Visit:
http://www.urdupoetry.com/ydas01.html
Khudaa Kaa Farmaan
uTTho merii duniyaa ke Gariibo.n ko jagaa do
Khaak-e-umaraa ke dar-o-diivaar hilaa do
[Khaak-e-umaraa = palace of rich people]
garmaao Gulaamo.n kaa lahuu soz-e-yaqii.n se
kunjishk-e-phiromaayaa ko shaahii.n se la.Daa do
[soz-e-yaqii.n = warmth (passion) of belief/faith]
[kunjishk-e-phiromaayaa = ; shaahii.n = falcon]
sultaanii-e-jamahuur kaa aataa hai zamaanaa
jo naqsh-e-kuhan tum ko nazar aaye miTaa do
[sultaanii-e-jamahuur = rule of the people]
[naqsh-e-kuhan = old structures (ways/traditions)]
jis khet se dahaqaa.N ko mayassar nahii.n rozii
us Khet ke har Khoshaa-e-gundam ko jalaa do
[dahaqaa.N = farmer; mayassar = available/get]
[Khoshaa-e-gundam = ear of wheat]
kyo.n Khaaliq-o-maKhaluuq me.n haayal rahe.n parde
piiraan-e-kaliisaa ko kaliisaa se haTaa do
[Khaaliq = creator; maKhaluuq = creation]
[piiraan-e-kaliisaa = church officials]
mai.n naaKhush-o-bezaar huu.N mar_mar ke silo.n se
mere liye miTTii kaa haram aur banaa do
[mar_mar = marble]
tahaziib-e-navii.n kaar_gah-e-shiishaagaraa.N hai
aadaab-e-junuu.N shaayar-e-mashriq ko sikhaa do
[tahaziib-e-navii.n = new culture; kaar_gah-e-shiishaagaraa.N = factory of glass makers]
[shayaar-e-mashriq = poets of the East][color=magenta]
- Sir Mohammed Iqbal
Visit:
http://www.urdupoetry.com/iqbal16.html
Confession of a Communalist : The perils of linguistic stereotypes
I met Khan Sahib at a private gathering. Urdu poetry is a passion with him. He has a knack of responding to the variety of life’s situations by composing, impromptu, couplets. Similes and metaphors in his poetry are unusual and unique. He has an inexhaustible treasure of anecdotes relating to his friends misconstruing key words of Urdu in communications meant for them and consequently finding Khan Sahib and themselves in hilarious situations.
Since all his friends addressed him as Khan Sahib, I too stuck to the same. My chance meeting with Khan Sahib and his wife at a friend’s party left me wondering about how they made such an odd couple in terms of their language skills. I have not seen Khan Sahib ever uttering a word of English and his wife seemed qualified enough to give lessons in English elocution.
...
I began browsing through his collection of books. To my surprise I found that most of the books carried “Kamal” as the name of the collector of books. I could not resist asking Khan Sahib in chaste Urdu, “Janab ka ism-e-sheerf?” (Sir, what is your name?) Khan Sahib answered: “Uy toh khaksar ka naam Kamal hai par jo mazhab ko juban se jodhate hai woh Kamaal pukarate hai.” I confessed to Khan Sahib that all these years I had mistaken him as a Muslim.
How ignorant I was in drawing a straight connection between language and religion. All Christians are not English speakers and all English speakers are not Christians. Had I learned the Urdu language and literature in the course of my formal education perhaps I would have been purged of my prejudices against “others” long back. Understanding the secular character of the Urdu language and denouncing all efforts to abuse it through its political misuse will go a long way in saving Urdu and restoring and rejuvenating its role in the civic sphere.
- VIKRAM KUMAR
Visit:
http://www.indianexpress.com/full_story ... t_id=73153
Another Iqbal : A Bullet Can't Kill A Dream
* Iqbal was sold into Child bonded labour at 4 years of age for the equivalent of $12
* He escaped at age 10 and began to speak out against child slavery and for freedom and schools for all Pakistani children.
* Iqbal won the Reebok Human Rights Youth in Action Award 1994
* Easter Sunday, 1995, he was murdered.
* In response, students at Broadmeadow Middle School formed this campaign in order to help fight for Iqbal's Dream
Visit:
http://www.digitalrag.com/iqbal/
HH wrote:Confession of a Communalist : The perils of linguistic stereotypes
lonewolf wrote:HH wrote:Confession of a Communalist : The perils of linguistic stereotypes
So what was his real name?
Caravan of Life - Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
Literal:
The caravan of life shall always pass
Beware that is fresh as sweet young grass
Let’s not worry about what tomorrow will amass
Fill my cup again, this night will pass, alas.
Meaning:
To be aware of each moment spent
Is to live in the now, and be present
Worry for morrow shan’t make a dent
Caring for the now, your mind must be bent.
Fitzgerald:
One Moment in Annihilation's Waste,
One moment, of the Well of Life to taste--
The Stars are setting, and the Caravan
Starts for the dawn of Nothing--Oh, make haste!
Visit:
http://www.okonlife.com/poems/page2.htm
Imran Khan wrote: mita de apni hasti ko gar koi martaba chahe
ke dana khak mein he milkar gule gulzar hota hain
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