The Hidden Garden by Gopi Narang (phonics books txt) 📕

tumult of sounds of this world.

Behind the noise of these thousand voices,

there is one and only one underlying note,

that of the invisible all-pervasive melody-maker.

bekhudi le gaaii kahaan ham ko

der se intizaar hai apna

My subliminal unconsciousness

took me to an unknown place.

I have been waiting for myself

for quite some time.

ve log tu ne ek hi shokhi mein kho diye

paida kiye the charkh ne jo khaak chhaan kar

You lost those people

in a single random playful action—

Those rarest of the rare ones

who were created by the heavens,

after straining a whole lot of particles

for centuries.

maut ik maandagi ka vaqfa hai

yaa’ni aage chalein ge dam le kar

Death is a momentary pause.

We shall move forward

after a little bit of rest.

bahut sa’ii kiije to mar rahiye Mir

bas apna to itna hi maqduur hai

If you put in great effort, Mir,

you can choose to die.

Yes, that is the limit of your power.

aa’lam aaiina hai jis ka vo mussavvir be-badal

haae kya parde mein tasviirein banaata hai miyaan

The one who holds a mirror to the world

is an artist without a comparison.

What beautiful faces He paints on the canvas, Miyan!

u’mr bhar ham rahe sharaabi se

dil-e pur khuun ki ik gulaabi se

I was inebriated most of my life.

A little pink goblet filled with blood

simply stayed on my heart forever.

ji dhaha jaaye hai sahar se aah

raat guzre gi kis kharaabi se

Alas! My heart is crestfallen

since the morning.

I wonder how awful

the night would be.

khilna kam kam kali ne siikha hai

us ki aankhon ki niim-khwaabi se

The bud opens slowly, very slowly.

Who do you think she learnt it from?

From my beloved’s half-open

And dreamy eyes, of course.

burqa uth-te hi chaand sa nikla

daagh huun us ki be-hijaabi ka

When she uncovered her face

I saw a moon rise.

The dazzle of her shimmering beauty

hit my heart and it left a scar.

kaam the i’shq mein bahut par Mir

ham hi faarigh huye shitaabi se

There was a lot to be done in love, Mir,

but my luck did not get an opportunity

and I lost everything.

saaqi tuk ek mausam-e gul ki taraf bhi dekh

tapka pare hai rang chaman mein hava se aaj

Saqi, please take a break and

look at the spring season.

The air is spraying colour

on the garden.

ham huye tum huye k Mir huye

us ki zulfon ke sab asiir hue

Whether it is you, or I,

or simply Mir,

we are all prisoners

of her tresses.

barhtein nahien palak se ta-ham talak bhi pahunchein

phirti hain vo nigaahein palkon ke saae saaye

Her bewitching sights

do not go beyond

her eyelids to reach me.

They stay veiled

under the shadow

of her eyelashes.

har qit’a-e chaman par tuk gaar kar nazar ko

bigrien hazaar shaklein tab phuul y banaaye

Look deeply and carefully

at each section of the garden.

How many beauties were scuffed?

Only then these captivating flowers

came into being.

samjhe the ham to Mir ko aa’shiq usi ghari

jab sun ke tera naam vo betaab sa hua

We knew Mir to be your lover

the moment he heard your name

and became restless.

hai junmbish-e lab mushkil jab aan ke vo baithe

jo chaahein so yuun kah lein log apni jagah baithe

It is difficult to move lips

when she comes and sits here.

The onlookers may say

whatever they want

while sitting awestruck,

wherever they are.

kya rang mein shokhi hai us ke tan-e naazuk ki

pairaahan agar pahne to us p bhi teh baithe

What brightness of colour

emanates from her delicate body!

If she wears an apparel

even that would carry

a gleam of pink.

jin balaaon ko Mir sunte the

un ko is rozgaar mein dekha

The stories of calamities

that you had only heard, Mir,

you also saw them

in the real world.

guundh ke goya patti gul ki vo tarkiib banaaii hai

rang badan ka tab dekho jab choli bhiige pasiine mein

After kneading petals of roses,

a concoction was prepared.

That is the colour of her skin

when her blouse is soaking

with her sweat.

ham faqiiron se be-adaaii kya

aan baithe jo tum ne pyaar kiya

Why do you overlook

mendicants like us?

We came and sat here

since you showed some love.

jam gaya khuun kaf-e qaatil p tera Mir zabas

un ne ro ro diya kal haath ko dhote dhote

Your blood froze

on the palm of the murderer, Mir.

She cried as she washed her hands,

yesterday morning.

zulm hai qehr hai qayaamat hai

ghusse mein us ke zer-e lab ki baat

It is oppression.

It is cruelty.

It is a doomsday.

When in anger,

she curses quietly

under her breath.

yaaquut koi in ko kahe hai koi gul-barg

tuk honth hila tu bhi k ik baat thahar jaaye

Some call them a ruby,

others call them a rose petal.

You need to say something

so that this matter is settled.

jab naam tera liije tab chashm bhar aave

is zindagi karne ko kahaan se jigar aave

When I utter your name,

my eyes fill with tears.

From where I can get the heart

to lead such a life?

mere saliiqe se meri nibhi mohabbat mein

tamaam u’mr main naakaamion se kaam liya

My discreet disposition

helped me in my love.

All my life, I faced one failure

after another.

duur baitha ghubaar-e Mir us se

i’shq bin y adab nahien aata

Mir sat at a distance

like a cloud of dust.

Without falling in love

you can’t learn this etiquette.

sakht kaafir tha jis ne pehle Mir

mazhab-e i’shq ikhtiyaar kiya

He was solidly a kafir—

the one who embraced,

from the beginning,

the religion of love.

massaaib aur the par ji ka jaana

a’jab ik saaniha sa ho gaya hai

There were other sufferings too,

but the day I lost my heart

it was an inexplicable accident.

chashm-e khuun basta se kal raat lahu phir tapka

ham ne jaana tha k bas ab to y naasuur gaya

My eyes filled with blood

once again leaked last night.

I had assumed that my unhealed wounds

had been healed.

A Deceptive Simplicity

n rakho kaan nazm-e shaa’iraan-e haal par itne

chalo tuk Mir ko sun-ne k moti se pirota hai

Don’t pay too much attention

to poets of the day.

Let us go and listen to Mir.

He does not use words.

He beads pearls in his poetry.

Mir’s simplicity is truly quite deceptive. There is an impression that simplicity of the syntactic structure equals simplicity of poetic meaning which is not correct. Mir speaks in a dialogic language that seems conversational, but his simplicity is deceptive. It is an established fact that conversational language is not poetry’s language. The poetic language infused with creative devices when removed from the language of daily discourse becomes more meaningful and durable. Mir selected a mode of expression that connected him with the people, but he