For the love of shayari...

Momin Khan Momin (1800–1851) was a Mughal Era poet known for his Urdu ghazals and was a contemporary of Mirza Ghalib (1797- 1869) the last great poet of the Mughal Era, is considered to be one of the most popular and influential poets of the Urdu language.

There's an interesting legend about these two heavyweight poets, although rivals, Ghalib (who is famous for his couplets) is supposed to have asked for below couplet for himself in return for his entire life’s work. Something which is now claimed to be more satirical than complimentary now.

"Tum mērē pās hōtē hō gōyā

Jab kō'ī dūsrā nahīⁿˡ hotā"

You are close to me [as if]

When no one else is.

Posting some of Momin's and Ghalib's poetry I love with a feeble effort at translating from Urdu. Sigh!

For those of you who decipher Urdu please ignore the translations as I haven't quite been able to capture the essence.

Momin's poem:

Wo jo hum mein tum mein qarar tha tumhen yaad ho ke na yaad ho

That comfort we had between us you may remember or maybe you don't

Wo naye gile wo shikayaten wo maze maze ke hikayaten

Those novel greivances those delicious allegories

Wo har ek baat pe ruthana tumhen yaad ho ke na yaad ho

Your being mad at me for every trivial matter maybe you remember or maybe you don't

Koi baat aisi agar hui jo tumhare jee ko buri lagi

to bayan se pahale hi bhulana tumhen yaad ho ke na yaad ho

If there was anything that hurt your spirit, t'was forgotten before it was expressed maybe you remember or maybe you dont

Mujhe sab hain yaad zara zara, tumhen yaad no ki na yaad ho

I remember everything infinitesmal, maybe you remember or maybe you don't 

Ghalib's couplets:

Hazaron khwahishen aise ke har khwahish pe dum nikle

Bohat niklay mere armaan, lekin phir bhi kam nikle

Thousands of desires such that it I would die for each (each may take a lifetime to realise)
Much has been my desire and its realisation, yet I've so many desires yet to fulfil

Is qadarr tora hai mujhaay uss ke be-wafaai nay "ghalib"

 Abb koi agarr pyar se bhi daikhaay to bikharr jata hoon mai ...

Her infidelity has broken me in such a manner that now when anyone glances at me with love, I shatter

Kitnaa khouff hota hai shaam kay andheroon mein,

Poonch un parindoo say jin kay gharr nahi hotay ...

How dangerous the darkness of night, ask those birds that don't have a nest

Hum toh fanaah ho gaye uskii ankhen dekh kar Ghalib,

Naa janay woh Aainaa kiasay dekhte hogey ...!

The glance of her eyes have destroyed me, I wonder how she looks at the mirror

Unkay dekhnay say jo aa jaati hai muh par raunaqq,

 Woh samajhatey hai ki bimaar ka haal achcha hai ...

When she looks at me I am flushed bright and she thinks that the patient is now fine

Hathoon key lakiroon pay matt jaa ae Ghalib,

Naseeb unkay bhi hotay hain jinkaay haath nahi hotay ...

Don't read destiny by lines on the palm, those who do not have hands are also serendipituous

Momin Khan Momin (1800–1851) was a Mughal Era poet known for his Urdu ghazals and was a contemporary of Mirza Ghalib (1797- 1869) the last great poet of the Mughal Era, is considered to be one of the most popular and influential poets of the Urdu language.

There's an interesting legend about these two prolific poets, although rivals, Ghalib (who is famous for his couplets) is supposed to have asked for below couplet for himself in return for his entire life’s work. Something which is now claimed to be more satirical than complimentary now.

"Tum mērē pās hōtē hō gōyā

Jab kō'ī dūsrā nahīⁿˡ hotā"

You are close to me [as if]

When no one else is.

Wo jo hum mein tum mein qarar tha tumhen yaad ho ke na yaad ho

That comfort we had between you and me you may remember or maybe not

Wo naye gile wo shikayaten wo maze maze ke hikayaten

Those novel greivances those delicious allegories

wo har ek baat pe ruthana tumhen yaad ho ke na yaad ho

Your being mad at me for every trivial matter

koi baat aisi agar hui jo tumhare jee ko buri lagi

to bayan se pahale hi bhulana tumhen yaad ho ke na yaad ho

If there was anything that hurt your spirit, iit was forgotten before it was expressed maybe you remember or maybe not

Bohat niklay mere armaan, lekin phir bhi kam nikle

mujhe sab hain yaad zara zara, tumhen yaad no ki na yaad ho

Is qadarr tora hai mujhaay uss ke be-wafaai nay "ghalib"

 Abb koi agarr pyar se bhi daikhaay to bikharr jata hoon mai ...

Kitnaa khouff hota hai shaam kay andheroon mein,

Poonch un parindoo say jin kay gharr nahi hotay ...

Hum toh fanaah ho gaye uskii ankhen dekh kar Ghalib,

Naa janay woh Aainaa kiasay dekhte hogey ...!

Unkay dekhnay say jo aa jaati hai muh par raunaqq,

 Woh samajhatey hai ki bimaar ka haal achcha hai ...

Dil say terey nigaah jigarr tak utarr gaye,

Dono ko eik adaa mein razaamand karr gaye ... -

Hathoon key lakiroon pay matt jaa ae Ghalib,

Naseeb unkay bhi hotay hain jinkaay haath nahi hotay ...

Matt poonch key kya haal hai mera tere pechhee,

 Tu dekh key kya rangg hai tera meray aagay ...

 Hazaroon khwaheeshen aise ki har khwahesh pay dum nikale,

 Bahhut nikale meray armaan lekin phirr bhi kam nikale ... -

Daunting Inferno...

Is it diffidence that leads you to believe
You're but a trifling spark
Even when there’s averment to the contrary

The resounding avowal you jab willfully
Cannot inter the unvarnished truth
Incendiary is the terrible animal

That burnishes a narcoleptic spirit
Atrocious the beauty of surrender
Trust is an untarnished street

Beware the inferno daunting in its singe...

Daunting Inferno...

Is it diffidence that leads you to believe
You're but a trifling spark
Even when there’s averment to the contrary

The resounding avowal you jab willfully
Cannot inter the unvarnished truth
Incendiary is the terrible animal

That burnishes a narcoleptic spirit
Atrocious the beauty of surrender
Trust is an untarnished street

Lift the FOG...

Have you been and do you - Railroad and FOG.

"FOG", is a term coined by psychotherapist Susan Forward, Ph.D., and talks about controlling relationships and the theory that fear, obligation or guilt ("FOG") are the transactional dynamics at play between the controller and the person being controlled.

May also be called misusing the keys to your heart.

Ok, before drama queen makes a grand entrance let me get to the facts and technical details.

Wikipedia further subdivides FOG into the four mental manipulation styles identified by Forward and Frazier:

Type	Example
Punisher's threat	Eat the food I cooked for you or I'll hurt you.
Self-punisher's threat	Eat the food I cooked for you or I'll hurt myself.
Sufferer's threat	Eat the food I cooked for you. I was saving it for myself. I wonder what will happen now.
Tantalizer's threat	Eat the food I cooked for you and you just may get a really yummy dessert.

Sigh! I cringe at the familiarity. In some form or the other I'm guilty of this and let's be honest, it's a habit. We've grown up being victims, still are and mindlessly we dole out the same dross to ours.

The wonderful thing about maturity is that it allows you to clinically observe a common practice without adding emotion to it and deciding whether this makes sense or not and when the answer is in the negative, to have the courage to dump it in the trash.

Got to recognise that fact that, the oft repeated, "I'm doing this because I love you" is the biggest lie in the world.

Jaggi Sadguru has this to say about love:

When you talk about love, it has to be unconditional. There is really no such thing as conditional love and unconditional love. It is just that there are conditions and there is love. The moment there is a condition, it just amounts to a transaction. Maybe a convenient transaction, maybe a good arrangement – maybe many people made excellent arrangements in life – but that will not fulfill you; that will not transport you to another dimension. It is just convenient.

Good time for some soul searching and kicking off die hard habits which are more cancerous than the malady itself and far more damaging than nicotine and alcohol. Time to shrug off the fake cloak of "love" that is used to smother an individual's right to live a life of self respect and pride.

Here's a promise, I will try not to coerce you to lie like exanimate railway tracks in the wasteland, waiting for my egoistic train to pass.

Neither Railroad, nor FOG... time to lift the personal mist!

Keeda kaun...

I'm mean, like really... shut up Anjali.

So this morning I drive to buy diwali sweets and as I enter the roundabout I can see another car do the same. In my mind I have entered it before the other car and I'm sure he thought the same with the only difference being that he lost it! Like seriously. I could see him shake his fist and mouth the words MC...

That was it… I saw and felt the words and lost it too!

 I began laughing uncontrollably, the fit of giggles was so overwhelming that I had to double park by the kerb 'cos I was shaking so badly and the poor guy was apoplectic as he could obviously see me doubled up. So he slows down to hurl more abuse and bursts a few blood vessels while gesticulating wildly and by now I'm tearing up with all the mirth. If he could get off the car and cause physical damage, I'm pretty sure he would have but there were a few cars lined up behind him and he had to reluctantly drive ahead.

Once the laughter died down though I started feeling remorseful... I probably ruined his weekend and he would probably do the same for someone else.

Which brings me to the why? I mean why do I get cheap thrills at being petty and mean. Most often I'm the one sermonising about kindness and empathy and decency towards fellow human beings. I cannot handle meanness and it bothers me endlessly when I see victimisation and then I go and do this. 

Sigh!

Also brings some déjà vu, Anjali and me are serial offenders. There’s a pattern and a method to our madness, we’re quite famous for making faces at unsuspecting people behind the wheel and riling them up and egging them on to something stupid and the thrill! Oh man…. I remember one drive in particular where Anjali played zombie with dilated eyes and a deadpan expression on her face which was stuck to the window and I would slow down and she would stare into every passing vehicle like that. After about eight people almost drove off the road in shock we gave up counting!!!

TJ has a name for it. She says we have the keeda. So the next time you see Anjali and me on the road, remember… keeda kaun!

Doppelganger...

When fakery enervates and affectation wilts

Endorsement and her sanction wanes

When the yoke is paralyzing and the albatross crushing

The theatricals blasé and histrionics fossil

When the cloying ambience of the mise en scène palls

The curtain call subverts your selfdom

When innervation turns to apathy and conviction is sceptic

As phosphorescence achromatizes across the hinterland

Come lay on the dark side with me…