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Posts Tagged ‘death

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Sometimes in our talking

Say that; I love me

Sometimes on a quiet path

Sometimes on a busy highway

Sometimes on the home terrace

Say it in my ears, that you love,

On my writing table

Leave a message,

In my busy schedule

Say, I love you

Say, I love you

by Abida Iqbal Azad (late)

trnaslated by tanveer rauf 

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What is relationship? I don’t really understand. Is it the fondness, love or be familiar  with someone, something, some incidence, happening or what———

One of my friends who passed away years back, used to say that Tanveer likes everything that exits on this earth; a pebble, a rainbow, clouds, an ant, a paper, a child, fire, anything, anything that has name——

And that’s trueJ I know that God is beautiful so whatever He has created has some beauty in it.

I was a student of 6th grade and very immature in 1963. I went to the market to buy some grocery. There I saw a man who had also come to buy. He was the ugliest man I ever saw. (I’m sorry to say this) I looked at him for some time. I thought that he’s so ugly, no girl will marry him. A thought straight away came to my mind——I will marry him —— I don’t know why I was so concerned about that man, who was a stranger. I didn’t know who he was where he lived or what he did——-just knew nothing about him or his whereabouts——— he also glanced at me as I was constantly looking at him. I don’t know what he thought about me—- but before leaving I just passed him a sweet smile and came back home. I didn’t even share with anybody at home. I think my innocent harmless intention pleased God, as the husband he chose for me was one of the most handsome men I saw and see around. So whenever I looked at my husband and his manly splendor, reminded me of that manJ!  My husband was a beautiful gift and reward of my innocent and pure likeness by God. Children and people all were more simple and innocent in those times.

I loved my husband so much that words fail to describe my love for him. He died in the hospital being ill for two years of brain injury.  I don’t know what made me sing all the way back home loudly in the car. No one dared to stop me as everyone was so touched and knew my mental condition—– jeevan k safar me rahi milte hein bicher jane ko, aur de jaate hein yaadein tunhai mei turpaane ko—translation;  in the course of life companions meet but to depart—- leaving behind their memories to grieve and bereave in aloneness

It’s an old Indian song and it haunts me still so I have a very long relationship with this song

May the soul of that man (if he’s dead, and my dear husband’s soul rest in peace, amen) Even last night I saw my husband in dream. He hugged me!  29th March 1984 was his last day of life in this mortal world. Though it’s been so long that he’s no more but I wait for him especially in the evening————

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It was September 1965. I had cleared my 10th grade with flying colors. We lived in Peshawar then. Our house was so big that if one called from end the voice could not be heard. The house was in the middle and lawns and fields surrounding it. It was built of mud. Walls were as thick as one meter if I’m not wrong. The rooms were huge with high ceilings. The doors were as big and wide that elephant could easily pass. The ventilator in every room was so big that two men could easily sit there.

I’m not at all exaggerating. It is said that Prime Minister of India Mr. Jawaharlal Nehru also lived there before partition of India, Pakistan. My brother had bought that house. And after he sold it the Excavators found many items of ancient time. Peshawar is one of the oldest cities of the world.

My brother was in Air Force. His family was in Karachi then. I lived there with my mother.

The war was going on between born rivals, India and Pakistan. Lahore was most raided city. So a family of 11 members came to Peshawar to run away from death. They had come to stay with their relatives. That bungalow was as big as ours, just across the road. Two families lived in that house. One was Air Force officer Squadron Leader, Musa and his family and the civilian family.

One day my brother called me from Rawal Pindi as he was on war duty. He asked me to come immediately there with mother. We did the same. My brother always said that in war, dusk and dawn time and full moon night is best to raid and bombard. It was full moon that night.

The airport was not far from our house. We lived on Mall Road. India bombed the airport but missed its target so the bomb hit that house where the family had come all the way from Lahore to escape death.

All members of that house died except one mentally retarded brother of theirs. But surprisingly everything was saved like furniture and all household things. But Musa’s family survived as they ran to trenches hearing the alarming siren. Surprisingly every bit of their household broke smashed and finished, but their lives were safe. As they ran without slippers and in their sleeping dresses so the neighbors provided them with everything. But the unfortunate family couldn’t save their life from death.

One should not fear death. It is fact of life and every breathing soul has to pass away

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When love enchants heart, the fatality follows,

When grief penetrates world, the cure follows;

What’s realm of heart! Love enlighten me,

When heart ponders, the heartbeats follow;

Prisoners unconfined, charity be given out,

Cloudburst, lightening on abode to follow;

Chamber of plea wasn’t shut, what to say,

Sigh had just made, enemy’s prayer follows;

He was planning to see her or not see her,

While beloved turned to mud, death follows;

Not only healer but even God missed him,

Today sick facing death and hiccup follows;

Beware Fani! This is the land of earthly being,

Secretly, swiftly and inaudibly death follows!

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There was a beautiful orange and golden butterfly.  Beautiful black dots added more charm to it. Its beauty was gripping

The Butterfly was very selfish, cruel and stone hear-ted. It used to gasp the fragrance and sweetness of beautiful flowers.

One fine day on a peaceful morning, the butterfly flew as its daily routine in search of flowers.

It saw a garden which was full of flowers .The selfish Butterfly felt very happy. It started flying from one flower to the other. The butterfly saw a beautiful pink rose with diamond dew drops on its soft velvety petals. The butterfly had never seen such a lovely flower before.  It said to itself “Oh! What a divine flower it is!”  It didn’t sit on it.  The butterfly postponed it till next morning.

Next morning it went again. It hovered around the flower all day.

The flower observing its madness asked,

Flower said: “Oh! Cruel Butterfly, why don’t you gasp my sweet scent?”

Butterfly: “Oh! Beautiful divine rose! I want to become pure like you.” It was in love with that beautiful rose. It decided to propose the rose the next morning.

Next morning, very happily flew to meet its love.

But someone had plucked crushed and thrown it on the ground.

The Butterfly sat near the dead body of its lovely rose

the broken heart Butterfly cried utterly and said …………!

“Oh! Beautiful Rose …. I truly loved you. Beautiful Rose you will be in my heart till my heart stops! Oh! Beautiful Rose I love you forever!

The Butterfly was in deep grief.  It couldn’t bear the woe. It died. The sky also shed tears. It rained heavily on lovers’ dead bodies.

Butterfly and Rose met in the Heaven.

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Time’s days and years passing by daily

Wake up my reliable beloved, wake up!

Open and envision, dreamy drowsy eyes

Let go the enjoyment and classy styles;

Let flow the tears of shameoff weary eyes,

Care for the time, running against you,

Envision the lost and gone astray prospect s

Give thy ears to  echo of gone by prospects

 Bear the agony, grief and sham by serenity

Keep serene and prudent, say not a word;

Get up to rejoice glum of slumbering aim,

Rise up to chant the elegy of love’s fatality,

You think you die and thence be relaxing?

It’s mere fake perception of imagination,

Beware my beloved, there’s else cloaked;

To be peaceful after death is just fantasy

Life is a sleep here, death is awakening

Urdu version by Razia Subhan

 

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Descended from sky

Granted life to die;

Whoever loved must know

He’s dead, without to know;

Going away from my party

Carried away my empathy;

Fascinating me of seashore

Put an end to my existence; 

Who fail to die of death?

Was killed by quarry looks;

 

 

 

 

I buried another tear of my life today

The tear evident of your absence;

Will lug its corpse until I am unknown

And that dream, you perceived with

Flying winds; will remain awake

In my eyes, until I finally sleep;

Death is a fact of life, which is

The truth of our flawed belief;

You wrote canto of death in tacit lexis

Thus bestowed subsistence to the death

And surrendered your own life;

I will seek my mire in thy mud

Of life,

Till the moment when I turn

To mud!

 

By Faheem Josie in memory of Ahmed Shamim

Translated by Tanveer Rauf 


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