My heart finds no repose

Lagtaa nahin hai dil meraa ujday dayaar mein
kis ki bani hai aalam-e-naa-paayedaar mein

bulbul ko pasban se na saiyyad se gila
qismet mein qaid likhi thi fasl-e-bahar mein

kah doh inn hasraton se kahin aur jaa basein
itani jagah kahaan hai dil-e-daagdaar mein 

ik shakh-e-gul pe baith ke būlbūl hai shadman

kante bicha diye hein dil-e-lalazar mein

umr-e-daraaz maang kar laaye they chaar din
do arzoo mein kaT gaye do intezaar mein

din zindagi ke Khatm hue shaam ho gayi

phaila ke paon soyen-ge kunj-e-mazaar mein

kitnaa hai badnaseeb "Zafar" dafn key liye
do gaz zamin bhi na mili kuu-e-yaar mein

~ Bahadur Shah Zafar

English translation

My heart finds no repose in this ruined city
Who has ever felt fulfilled in this fleeting world

The nightingale complains about neither the sentinel nor the hunter
Fate had decreed imprisonment during the harvest of spring

Ask my longings to go dwell elsewhere
Where is the space for them in this scarred heart

Sitting on a branch of flowers, the nightingale rejoices
It has strewn thorns in the garden of my heart

On request of a long life, I had received four days
Two passed in entreaty, two in waiting

The days of life are over, evening has fallen
I shall sleep, legs outstretched, in my tomb

How unfortunate is Zafar, for his burial
He couldn't get two yards of land in his beloved land


Bahadur Shah Zafar was the last Mughul emperor of India. The Emperor who reigned in Delhi at the time of the 1857 Sepoy Mutiny. After the mutiny was crushed, the British exiled Zafar to Yangoon in British-occupied Burma where he died on September 14 of the same year.

Bahadur Shah Zafar was a noted Urdu poet and is credited for having written a large number of Urdu ghazals. Some were lost during the mutiny, but the surviving were compiled into a volume called Kulliyat-i-Zafar. He was the patron of several noted Urdu writers including Ghalib, Dagh, Mumin and Zauq.

In addition to being a poet, he was also a calligrapher. During his exile, when pen and paper were denied to him, he is said to have written the above poem on the walls with a burnt stick. In spite of his ardent pleas to allow his body to be buried in India, the British did not concede and he was buried in Rangoon. This poem he wrote as his epitaph and epitomises his desolation and grief. 

This ghazal has been immortalised by Mohammed Rafi in this song from the movie Lal Qila.

Despair

I oscillate between

hope and hopelessness,

I wish the pendulum would fall

and be a guillotine.

Discontent

Occasionally, (thankfully not often) I am assailed by such strong feeling of discontent that the resulting discomfort is almost physical. A quiet voice (no doubt angelic) gently reminds me that Providence has been so kind as to shower me with so many blessing I must not be ungrateful and therefore unkind. But even though the logic is sound and the sentiment worthy, the discontent will not go away. It rages on in my breast with such ferocity that I am forced to focus all my attention on it. It may be argued that discontent is a positive emotion. Even though it has negative connotations and makes one feel miserable, just think, if it wasn’t for discontent, most major explorations and therefore discoveries and inventions would not have taken place. There is a joke that the English were so fed up with their food that they sailed forth to other lands in search of better-tasting food J And discovered (and to the natives dismay, conquered) other lands. 

So what is this discontent telling me? That there is something in my life / in my worldview that is in urgent need of changing. Bells are going off loud and clear announcing the need for urgent renovation. Something is stagnating and putrefying that needs to be set in flow once again. Discontent, in this case, seems to be the soul’s cry to be set loose from lack of growth and inaction.

Unfortunately, as I find out, it is not as easy as it sounds. Hearing the soul's call is one thing, but actually setting out to follow it is a different thing altogether. I guess, I'll have to live with this discontent until that happens. Churning and burning and giving me no rest ....