hasb-e-Rabi Jallallah ma-fe-qalbi ghayr-ullah
September 22, 2006 | Filed Under Poetry | 5 Comments
Inside this prison I see a strange light,
I see flowing streams of water that dissolve thirst,
allah hu hu allah hu. allah hu hu allah hu
I feel the sweetness of pain, but I cannot feel my skin
I can see people embracing each other, I can see love
hasb-e-Rabi Jallallah, ma-fe-qalbi ghayr-ullah
Mickey mouse is dancing a mad passionate dance
He does not sing but the harps and drums beat in rhythm
allah hu hu allah hu allah hu hu allah hu
I can see a book that has my name written on it,
I open it and the words fly away leaving behind black ink
hasb-e-Rabi Jallallah, ma-fe-qalbi ghayr-ullah
I see mother, she greets me and embraces me,
But I can feel that she does not recognize me,
allah hu hu allah hu allah hu hu allah hu
Brahma, Vishnu, Mahesh, Moses, Christ and Mohammad
All are playing a cricket match, everyone is cheering
allah hu hu allah hu allah hu hu allah hu
I see Alice, she is sitting on a turtle,
She is touring the world to open closed doors
hasb-e-Rabi Jallallah, ma-fe-qalbi ghayr-ullah
I speak only two words, but my thoughts are clear
The barman offers me a drink of fire dssolved in water
allah hu hu allah hu allah hu hu allah hu
Out of my death, I am born again…
This time as a stone on planet earth
allah hu hu allah hu allah hu hu allah hu
————————————————————————————
what hasb-e-Rabi Jallallah, ma-fe-qalbi ghayr-ullah means?
I do not need anything but God, glory to God, There is nothing in my heart but God.
(This is my interpretation, the translation doesn’t sound as good as the arabic.)
Run Anush Run
September 16, 2006 | Filed Under Point of View | 3 Comments
Anush, a friend of mine from engineering college, currently in the US is training to run a 26 mile marathon. That’s around 50 kms. He is running for a NGO that is working on providing education to the under privileged children in India. I read this page, and it suddenly reminds me, how far we have come.
We struggled to get our degree, we graduated at a time where jobs were bleak - they weren’t the happiest times. But yet I remember them fondly and strangely we were always optimistic. Sitting in the canteen of Saboo Siddik and drinking cutting chai, the only goal in mind was to pass the next exam. I am glad that is behind us now.
We largely live our lives selfishly and I don’t think there is any shame in accepting that. But we also find joy in making a difference, to give those who are not privileged as us. A lot of people and NGOs dedicate their lives to social work. They are always short of money, cause there is a lot people who are under-privileged.
Anush is training hard, I wonder what is driving him. We were amongst the most laid back of people in college. We never tried very hard, whether it be to finish an assignement, clear a test or to win-over a girl. Seeing him train hard for something makes me happy, but I don’t feel surprised. I realise that when we believe in something we can give it all we have. Inshallah, Anush will be able to complete the marathon and raise the money he wants to raise, and I hope that it will give him immense happiness and enrich the lives of some under-privileged children.
I ran the 7 km run in bombay in january this year. I am not what you will call “physically fit” in fact i am almost obese, and the experience sapped all my energy. Though I still got a high from it. Millions of people running around you, some carrying banners and shouting, some singing, people on wheel chairs, human chains, it was an exhilarating experience.
I hope the experience brings as much joy to Anush as it will bring to the children who will get educated at his cost. May God be with him.
Please check this site and if you want to send good wishes to Anush, you can comment here. I will make sure they reach him.
Another A writes about Vande Mataram
September 13, 2006 | Filed Under Poetry, Point of View | 3 Comments
Once a boy was born. His mother named him A. His name was misused throughout his life. People had various ways to call his names. He could understand purely by the way he was called, whether people were calling him angrily or lovingly, but that is another story.
A, could be anyone: he, she, it, they, us, them we, you or me. And his mother was not really his mother but his Motherland. The country where A was born, and grown up in and whose passport he possessed. Note that A does not have a Fatherland.
I look at A’s mother, and think that she is single mother, with billions of children, ok may be only 2 billion. Some of her children are really crazy though. They want all the children to stand in one line and sing a song that one poet had sung long time back. She was exploited by the English then, and this guy was really angry with the English and telling them not to exploit his mother, who was really very beautiful and humble and sweet. And in his own ways was telling them that they were taking advantage of her. After about more than 50-60 years of the song, the English went away. But this mother, i tell you, is now troubled by her own children. All her children can’t sing this song, one of the reasons is that they have their own notions and beliefs but more than that it is written in a language that people can’t understand. The poetry is also difficult to recite. I want to tell these politicians to recite the whole song. Let’s see if they can recite the song properly. If they can’t I will give them one rap.
A was a school boy, by the way everyone in school had began to call him Apple. So, Apple had to sing his song, he didn’t even know what the song was. He memorized the song, learnt it by rote and sang it. He even got chocolate for that. One day Apple came to me and asked me about the song, so I tried to tell him that it is about his mother and how beatuiful she is and all that, I also showed him this wikipedia page, but it was too long and he got bored. I told him how this guy called B had written it like a poetry for his mother. Apple complained that he could not understand anything. I said, it’s ok, it is more important to love and respect your mother than to memorize the words without understanding it. Then Apple told me, he will write his own Vande Mataram, and this what he wrote -
Vande Mataram, Vande Mataram
(Means I love you mummy with all my heart)
I will not throw kachra on the road
I will not spit on the road
I will be nice to my fellow men and women and animals
Vande Mataram, Vande Mataram
Then Apple gave up cause he started sobbing.