[Mullah] Your beard is like a pious scholar and you act like a devil. You condemn [even] the travelers for nothing. …
Read more : Wichaar
[Mullah] Your beard is like a pious scholar and you act like a devil. You condemn [even] the travelers for nothing. …
Read more : Wichaar
“Dust of Their Earthly Remains, Abdul Latif affirms, Surely Esteemed”
By Dr. Ahmed H. Makhdoom, Singapore
Today, Wednesday 14th Safar 1432, which is 19th January 2011, is that day in the glorious, glittering and grand history of the nation of Sindh, when her most illustrious, worthy and noble son, Shah Abdul Latif of Bhitt, breathed his last. His sanctified and sacred soul eternally resting in the Garden of his Beloved and his earthly remains interned permanently in lap of venerable andb blessed mother Sindh, Bhittai, till today, 267 years after his passage into Eternity, remains an iconic and saintly figure.
Sindh for grant of visas to Indian intellectuals
Karachi – Sindh Culture Minister Sassui Palijo said on Sunday that she had approached Foreign Minister Shah Mehmood Qureshi for issuing visas to the poets, writers and intellectuals from India and other South Asian countries who wanted to participate in the 267th annual Urs of Sufi poet Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai.
She said a similar facility was granted to the participants of the recently held International Urdu Conference.
Ms Palijo said this during a meeting of officials of her department to review the arrangements of the annual Urs.
She said her department would erect a monument of Shah Abdul Latif at Sea
View in Karachi, while a cultural village would be set up at Bhit Shah on the occasion of the Urs. “A round-the-clock Sufi Mehfil will also be organised.”
Secretary Culture Ilmuddin Bulo apprised the minister of arrangements, including face-lifting of the historical Karrar lake, setting up of 12 different entrance points and security arrangements. …
Read more : The News
-A song written by Shaikh Ayaz, “Sindhrri Te Sir Kaier Na Ddiendo” sung by Faqeer Abdul Ghafoor presented & edited by Imtiaz Hussain Laghari.
Mazhab kay jo byopari hein,
Woh sab se bari beemari hein.
Woh jin kay siwa sab kaafir hein,
Jo deen ka harf-e-akhir hein.
In jhootay aur makkaron say,
Mazhab kay theke-daron say,
Mein baaghi hoon mai baaghi hoon.
Jo Chahe mujh per Zulm Karo
= – = – = – = – =
Jaun Elia (Urdu: جون ایلیا, December 14, 1931 – November 8, 2002) was a notable Pakistani Urdu poet, philosopher, biographer and scholar. He was widely praised for his unique style of writing. He was the brother of renowned journalist and psychoanalyst Rais Amrohvi and journalist and world-renowned philosopher Syed Muhammad Taqi, and husband of famous columnist Zahida Hina. He was a man of letters, well versed in Arabic, English, Persian, Sanskrit and Hebrew.
Jaun Elia was born on December 14, 1931 in an illustrious family of Amroha, Uttar Pradesh. He was the youngest of his siblings. His father, Allama Shafiq Hasan Elia, was deeply involved in art and literature and also an astrologer and a poet. This literary environment modeled him along the same lines, and he wrote his first Urdu couplet when he was just 8.
Read more : Wikipedia
Faiz Ahmed Recited by Zia Mohiyudeen.
When the cruelty of night merged,
I came as far as my feet could bring me,
on my lips the phrase of a song,
my heart lit up only by sorrow.
This sorrow was my testimony to your beauty
Look ! I remained a witness till the end,
I who was killed in the darkest lanes.
Its true that not to reach you was fate
but wholl deny that to love you
was entirely in my hands?
so far away from my words,
you still were beautiful:
color kept clinging to your lips
rapture was still vivid in your hair
light remained silvering in your hands.
I longed for your lips, dreamed of the roses:
I was hanged from the dry branch of the scaffold.
I wanted to touch your hands, their silver light:
I was murdered in the half-light of dim lanes.
And there where you were crucified.
Taliban are Iqbal’s Shaheens’
Manzur Ejaz interview with Vewpoint
Tagore told an audience that he cannot compare himself with Iqbal because he does not write in his native tongue. Iqbal issued a rebuttal that Tagore could write in Bengali because Bengali was a developed language.
Nazar-ul-Islam, the Muslim Bengali poet enjoyed the same stature as Iqbal but Punjabi-Urdu elite could not embrace him as a national poet, says Manzur Ejaz in an interview with Viewpoint. He thinks: ‘Both Marx and Mussolini were threatening the core of British colonialism and hence admirable for Iqbal’. …
Read more : ViewPoint
suna hai loag usEy aankh bhar ke deikhte haiN, so uske shaher meiN hUm bhi thaher ke deikhte haiN
by Aftab Kazi, PhD (Pittsburgh)
“Charming looks, beautiful words, fake professional grace
Disingenuous play constantly games with a different face
Well-worded ugly interpretations contaminate genuineness
Aftab’s Bar regulars value truth with heavenly elegance.”
May 21, 2009
Translation by Hisam Memon
For a while today!
And let me speak!
For a while
Do watch the world,
Engineered by you!
Some are inferior/poor
Some are superior/rich
Who belong to you?
Do mark them!
Wrinkled is the veil,
Torn shirt she puts on,
The naked she looks,
Who daughter is that girl?
She begs before stranger men,
Offer alms to your people!
In the scorching beam,
Unbuttered pieces of meal,
She takes with spoilt molasses
Come down to taste it
A single time!
‘AASI’ was bestowed with insight
That utters the truth and tormented for,
“Why I am called atheist then”
Come to get [insight] it back!
The Earth Is Closing on Us
- Mahmoud Darwish, Translation by Abdullah al-Udhari
The earth is closing on us, pushing us through the last passage, and
we tear off our limbs to pass through.
The earth is squeezing us. I wish we were its wheat so we could die
and live again. I wish the earth was our mother
So she’d be kind to us. I wish we were pictures on the rocks for our dreams to carry As mirrors. We saw the faces of those to be killed by the last of us in the last defense of the soul.
We cried over their children’s feast. We saw the faces of those who’ll
throw our children Out of the windows of the last space. Our star will hang up in mirrors.
Where should we go after the last frontiers? Where should the birds fly after the last sky? Where should the plants sleep after the last breath of air? We will write our names with scarlet steam.
We will cut off the head of the song to be finished by our flesh.
We will die here, here in the last passage. Here and here our blood will plant its olive tree.
Published by Karachi’s Sindhica Academy, the book is just a reminder that Sufi poetry is a voice against extremism
What makes the book more adorable for the readers of Urdu is the Urdu translation of Shah’s selected poetry along with the original Sindhi verses.
Though much has been written on Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai and his Sufi poetry, there are some misconceptions about him and his poetry. One of the reasons for this misunderstanding is that due to a dearth of good books on him in Urdu and English those who do not know Shah’s native Sindhi cannot reach the heart and soul of his poetic works.
His poetry, truly a great piece of literary heritage,
People are illogical, Unreasonable, And self centered
Love them, anyway
If you do good, People will accuse you, Of selfish motives
Do good, anyway
If you are successful, You may win some enemies
The good that you do today, Will be forgotten tomorrow
Do good, anyway
Honesty and frankness, Makes you vulnerable
Be honest, anyway
Telling the truth, May get you in trouble
Tell truth, any way
What you spent years in building, Will be destroyed overnight
People really need help, But may attack you,
Help them, anyway
You may get kicked, For giving the best you have
Give the best you got
“Sachal, Thy friend, suffers in painful afflictions aplenty”
By Dr. Ahmed H. Makhdoom
In the beautiful land of Sindh, there is a beautiful goothu ( a village), Daraazaa. Here in this calm, sanguine, sanctuary of peace and tranquillity stand a monument, a Dargaah, an earthly monument, to that Heavenly Immortal soul, my murshid, my guide Saaeen Sachal Sarmast. The love for the Suufees, Faqeers and Darveishes of this remarkable land of Sindh that is enshrined in every son and daughter of this glorious land of Sindh is really heart-warming, inspiring and touching, indeed.
This paak, pavitar, pure dhartee of Sindh, the Cradle of Civilisations, had given birth to countless Suufees, Saints, Sages, Auliyaas, Avtaars. It is in this glorious land of Sindh that humanity learnt to breathe and take its first step towards emancipation, enlightenment and Eternal Peace, Prosperity and Progress.
By Khurram Ali Shafique
Some people say that he fell in love, left home, became a phenomenon and came back to marry the woman who had been refused to him earlier. There is no way of knowing whether the career of Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai of Sindh actually paralleled the Count of Monte Cristo so closely (and we need to be careful about apocryphal stories woven around the lives of great saints), but there are other testimonials to the warmth of the heart that throbbed in him.
If one reads Punjabi [Sindhi] classical poetry, with no presumption of Sufism, it is just good poetry of a certain period that has withstood the test of time. I do not know anybody who would claim that just reading and singing of this poetry would bring social change.
One of our reputable progressive historians asserted in one of his recently published column that chanting Sufi songs cannot change the situation: one needs a modern theory or model to address contemporary problems. I agree with the main assertion but strongly disagree with the intent he has put forth in his argument. His formulation lacks historical perspective of which he is supposed to be an expert.
When the world was still to be born
When Adam was still to receive his form
Then my relationship began
When I heard the Lord’s Voice
A voice sweet and clear
I said “Yes” with all my heart
And Formed a bond with the land (Sindh) I love
When all of us were one, My bond then began.
- Sufi (mystic) poet of peace, Shah Abdul Latif ( 1689 – 1752 )
Shah Latif Bhitai is varstile poet, his content, language, diction, heroes, characters, every thing is rich and beautiful, such programs like celebrating Latif-Day offers a chance to establish connection between Bhitai and the people. Latif is always refreshing and inspiring, alas, lot of people have given up reading him, he is our greatest strength, a sole source of awakening, spread light into stagnant minds of our people.
He not only depicts Sindh, its culture, past but gives an inspiration for change, “Wethan ta waree wary“, several one liners of his poetry are remarkable, one hardly finds such a wide-ranging observations, wisdom and reflecting on diverse things. Bhitai, though a son of Sindh, not lived in era of globalization and communication revolution, but he truly encompass universe in his poetry.
SAAEIN SADAAEIN KAREIN MATHE SINDH SUKKAR
DOST MITHAA DILDAAR AALAM SAB AABAD KAREIN
- SHAH ABDUL LATIF
Translation – May Lord bless Sindh along with entire world.
Shah Abdul Latif was born in 1689 in Khatiyan in Hyderabad district. He passed away in 1752 and is buried in a mausoleum in Bhitshah. He was a great poet , scholar and a Sufi mystic. It is absolutely appropriate if he is called the Soul of Sindh. He strongly believed in peace and contentment.
Altough he was born in a wealthy family , he renunciated everything to to become a wandering mystic. During his wanderings he came in contact with Hindu Yogis and made no distinction between anybody. Slowly desciples gathered around him.
He was exceedingly fond of music and would sing his poetry on Tamboora, based on classical Ragas. His music knowledge was of a very high order. In his musical renderings, he always yearned for union with God.
His poetry was memorised by a disciple who wrote it down. Finally credit goes to a German Ernest Trumpp, who knew Sindhi and he got everything compiled in Shah jo Risalo.
People’s history of the Punjab: Baba Farid
by Dr. Manzur Ejaz, USA
Courtesy and Thanks: Wichaar.com
Every invasion of historical proportion resulting in prolonged occupation of territory results in reconfiguration of the intellectual discourse and state of knowledge in society. Mahmud Ghaznavi’s several incursions triggered the process which led to the reorientation of intellectual and scholarly pursuits, and the formalisation of the Punjabi language in the Punjab.
Poetry by Ahmed Makhdoom
Years will come and, years will go,
Decades will come and, decades will go,
Millenniums will come and, millenniums will go,
Mortals will come and, mortals will go,
My Sindhrree will go on forever and forever!
My motherland will glitter forever and forever!
Today, an old year has left us and a new year is born,
And, I pray to Great Lord, Beloved, Master of my soul;
But, wait! Me, a tiny drop; Thee, Vast Ocean Supreme!
Tiny I am, qualified I am not; Sinner I am, impure I feel;
My murshid is most qualified – my teacher, my guide;
Lord! Me, a wretched being, Bhittai is Thy friend indeed!
Courtesy: Sindhi e-lists/ e-groups, 13 Dec. 2009
December 28 is 12th Anniversary of Sindh’s legendary poet Shaikh Ayaz (2 March 1923- 28 December 1997). Ayaz’s critics, friends and contemporaries have agreed that through his poetry he introduced new trends in Sindhi language.
- B. R. Gowani
Utho meri dunyA ke gariboN ko jagA do
KAkh-e-umrA ke dar-o-deewAr hilA do
Jis khet se dehkAN ko muyassar na ho rozi
Us khet ke har khosha-e-gandam ko jalA do
Rise and rouse my world’s wretched ones
Shake fiercely the palaces of the rich ones
Scorch every cluster of wheat in the field
That denies livelihood to the tilling ones
- Poet Iqbal (1877-1938)
Heaven and Earth last forever.
Why do heaven and Earth last forever?
They are unborn,
so ever living.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Tao Te Ching or Dao De Jing (simplified Chinese: 道德经; traditional Chinese: 道德經; pinyin: Dàodéjīng), originally known as Laozi (simplified Chinese: 老子; traditional Chinese: 老子; pinyin: Lǎozǐ), is a Chinese classic text. Its name comes from the opening words of its two sections: 道 dào “way,” Chapter 1, and 德 dé “virtue,” Chapter 38, plus 經 jīng “classic.” According to tradition, it was written around the 6th century BC by the sage Laozi (or Lao Tzu, “Old Master”), a record-keeper at the Zhou Dynasty court, by whose name the text is known in China. The text’s true authorship and date of composition or compilation are still debated.
The Tao Te Ching is fundamental to the Philosophical Taoism (Dàojiā 道家) and strongly influenced other schools, such as Legalism and Neo-Confucianism. This ancient book is also central in Chinese religion, not only for Religious Taoism (Dàojiào 道教) but Chinese Buddhism, which when first introduced into China was largely interpreted through the use of Taoist words and concepts. Many Chinese artists, including poets, painters, calligraphers, and even gardeners have used the Tao Te Ching as a source of inspiration. Its influence has also spread widely outside East Asia, aided by hundreds of translations into Western languages.
The Wade-Giles romanization, Tao Te Ching, dates back to early English transliterations in the late 19th century, and many people continue using it, especially for words and phrases that have become well-established in English. The pinyin romanization Daodejing originated in the late 20th century, and this romanization is becoming increasingly popular, having been adopted as the official system by the Chinese government. See Daoism-Taoism romanization issue for more information.
Poetry by: Muhammad Kamran Baloch
No more heroes in legacies
No more heroes in fantasies
Supermen are flying way above our visions
Spider men are climbing buildings way beyond our missions
Tarzans are left in jungles, lonely
Romeos are in movies only
No one left, to lift who suffer
No one left, to catch who murder
Sons dying, just on demand for their rights
Mothers crying on the bodies of their lights
Fathers dragging the burdens of their lives
Sisters begging, just to earn some glimpse of their lives
Only tears to console tears
Desperation, over desperation layers
Capitalists are ruling the world
Capital is the rule of world
Terrorism and Anti-terrorism for resources
Crusading and Jihad for resources
Need, not only for survival, lust is working
Heed, not only for revival, lust is working
Cosmetic activities, to get a social status
Then jerks to the society, to retain the status
No more shows to cure pains
No more showers of blessing rains
Entertainment, is to see live fighter jets
Bleeding bodies and suicide attacks
Love & Care has lost its taste
Chirping birds have lost their nests
Now, best advice is, “Do not advice,
Just have fun with one electronic device”
Where gone the social mentors?
Where gone the social inventors?
Where are we going? We don’t know.
What are we sowing? We don’t know.
Come out of this cage
Come out of this cave
Bring reforms. It is your duty and right
Stand firm. Please, don’t give up the fight
You are the real rulers of this world
Intruding first raw and delight of this world
Pierce the curtains of these piercing rules
Be the legends and make new rules
Be the heroes and rule the hearts
Become the helping hands and loving thoughts
Put your pen and change the story
Die on truth with lasting glory
BE THE HEROES, BE THE HEROES, BE THE HEROES.
Courtesy: Sindhi e-list Mehran
“For every beauty there is an eye somewhere to see it.
For every truth there is an ear somewhere to hear it.
For every love there is a heart somewhere to receive it.”
-Ivan Panin (Russian mathematician 1855-1942)
How boastful is he,
Believing he is a Pundit!
To the lessons of the Vedas he listens,
But humility he does not acquire,
The Lord lives within,
That the blind cannot see,
Only the pure of heart, O Sami!
Shall find the Supreme.– Sufi poet of Sindh Sami (translated by Ghulam Ali Allana)
The Urs celebrations of Sachal Sarmast began
The 188th Urs celebrations of Hazrat Sachal Sarmast (RA) will begin from Sept 5 by laying wreath on the Mazar of Hazrat Sachal Sarmast. This activity will be followed by an Adabi conference the same day. Sachal Yadgar Committee will present shields among the best poet, best singer and best writer.
So long as these so-called holy places,
These raised towers, do not crumble into dust,
So long the path of truth (Haq) cannot be seen clear.
–Sufi Poet Sachal Sarmast
by Gul Agha, USA
Greetings on the Festival of Love (Ishk-a-mubaaraka): The death Anniversary of Sachal Sarmast (1739-1829). The Full moon is tomorrow 16:05 GMT.. and with it the anniversary celebrated as the Festival of Love.
Kazi burn thy books.
The Master has instructed me:
“Know thyself,” He said.
He taught me the path of heresy.
Some go to Kaaba, others to Kibla,
All these things are mere pretexts.
Why should I turn to Kaaba,
When my Master in tavern dwells?
Be thou [divinely] mad,
Drink deep the wine of madness.
- translated by Jethmal Parsram Gulrajani in “Sindh and Its Sufis”, Theosophical Publishing House, Adyar, Madras, 1924. 224pp
Some English translations of his poems …can be found at: Heritage: Sachal Sarmast
by: Omar Ali, USA
Allama Iqbal had many sides. He was a very bright student (Arnold recognized that), but he was also a from a neo-convert molvi family that still had issues with their Hindu relatives and whose social outlook was conservative and conservative in the medieval orthodox manner, with very little balance from the more rainbow colored diverse folk traditions of Punjab. This mullahism sneaked more and more into his poetry as he got older (probably because he was intoxicated by the wah wah that his jihadi and obscurantist poetry got from the himayat e islam crowd). He did have other good qualities though: he was lazy, loved wine and music, liked to chat with his friends and smoke hookah and avoid his nagging wife and loved kabootar baazi, the sort of person most men would enjoy hanging out with (.. but I just mean that in our society these are mostly male pursuits even today) … and all well documented by his son and others close to him.
- Resul Hamzatov
I loved hundred women
Yes it is true
But in every woman
I found you!