Monday, March 14, 2011

Quote by Robert Frost

Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self confidence. 

- Robert Frost

Sunday, March 6, 2011

He Done His Damdest

I ask that when my spirit quits this shell of mortal clay
And o’er the trail across the range pursues its silent way,
That no imposing marble shaft may mark the spot where rest
The tailings of the bard who sang the praises of the West.
But, that above them may be placed a slab of white or gray,
And on it but the epitaph carved in the earlier day,
Upon the headboard of a man who did the best he could
To have the bad deeds of his life o’ershadowed by the good:
“He Done His Damdest.”
Engrave upon the polished face of that plain, simple stone,
No nicely worded sentiment intended to condone
The sins of an eventful life, nor say the virtues wiped
Away the stains of vice — in lines original or swiped;
That rough but honest sentiment that stood above the head
Of one who wore his boots into his final earthly bed
Is good enough for me to have above my mould’ring clay—
Just give the name and day I quit and underneath it say:
“He Done His Damdest.”
Some who are overstocked with phony piety may raise
Their hands in blank amazement at the sentiment and gaze
Upon the simple marble slab ‘neath which the sleeper lies,
With six or seven different kinds of horror in their eyes;
But hardy sons and daughters of this brave and rugged West
Will see a tribute in the line so pointedly expressed–
And what more earnest tribute could be paid to any man
Whose weary feet have hit the trail towards the Mystery, than:
“He Done His Damdest.”
By E. Bell Guthrey

Friday, March 4, 2011

कभी कभी मेरे दिल में

कभी कभी मेरे दिल में ख़याल आता है

के जिन्दगी ऐ ज़ुल्फ़ों की नर्म छाओं में
गुजरने पाती तो शादाब हो भी सकती थी
ऐ तीरगी जो मिरी ज़ीस्त का मुकाद्दर है
तेरी नज़र कि शु’आऊं में खो भी सकती थी

अजब न था के मैं बेगाना-ए-आलम हो कर
तेरी जमाल की र्नाइयों में खो रहता
तेरा गुदाज़ बदन तेरी नीम्बाज़ आंखें
इन्हीं हसीं फ़सानों में मैं हो रहता

पुकारती मुझे जब तल्खियां ज़माने की
तेरे लबों से हलावत के घूँट पी लेता
हयात चीखती फिरती बरेहना सर और मैं
घनेरी ज़ुल्फ़ों की साए में छुप की जीं लेता

मगर ये हो न सका और अब ये आलम है
कि तू नहीं तिर गम , तेरी जुस्तजू भी नहीं
गुज़र रही है कुछ इस तरह ज़िंदगी जैसे
इसे किसी के सहारे की आरजू भी नहीं

ज़माने भर के दुखों को लगा चुका हूँ गले
गुज़र रहा हूँ कुछ अनजानी रह-गुज़ारों से
मुहीब साए मेरी सिमट भरते आते हैं
हयात-ओ-मौत के पुर्हौल खार्जारों से

न कोई ज़दा, न मंज़िल, न रोशनी का सुराग
भटक रही है खयालों में ज़िंदगी मेरी
इन्ही खयालों में रह जाउंगा कभी खो कर
मैं जानता हो मेरी हम नफस मगर यूं ही

कभी कभी मेरे दिल में ख़याल आता है


शादाब = pleasant, agriiable
तीरगी = darkness
ज़ीस्त = life
शु’आऊं = light, rays, brightness
बेगाना-ए-आलम = stranger to the varld
जमाल = beauty
र्’अनायिओं = elegance
गुदाज़ = gentle, tender
नीम्बाज़ = half open
महव = drovned
तल्खियां = bitterness
हलावत = sviitness
हयात = life
बर्हना = nakad
मुहीब = dreadful
संत = towards
हयात-ओ-मौत = life and death
पुर्हौल = full of deceit, might
खार्जारों = a place full of thorns
जादा = road
खलाओं = darkness
हम्नाफस = companion

English Translation


Sometimes the thought comes to my mind…
That life spent in the soft shadows of your tresses
Would be so joyful if it could be so; that
This sorrow, which seems to be the fate of my existence
Could have been lost in the radiance of your eyes.

It would not have been strange if I, forgetful of the world
Had remained lost in the flashes of your beauty.
Your lithe body, your half-shut, dreamy eyes—
If I had been occupied with such beautiful fantasies.

And when the bitter realities of life called me
I would have drunk the sweet nectar of your lips.
Life would be shouting and shrieking about me, and I
Would have hidden in the shadows of your thick tresses, and lived.

But alas this could not be and now such is my condition
That neither you, nor sorrow for your loss, nor longing for you exist.
My life is passing by in such a manner as if
It has not even the aspiration for anyone’s succour.

I have embraced the sorrows of the world.
I am travelling through unknown paths
Terrifying shadows are coming toward me
From the frightening planes of life and death.

I have no place, no goal, neither a ray of sunlight.
My life is being wasted in desolate wildernesses.
I will remain lost in such desolate places for ever
I know, o my soul-mate, but still, out of the blue,
Sometimes the thought comes to my mind…

Zehal-e miskin

Zehal-e miskin makun taghaful, duraye naina banaye batiyan;
ki taab-e hijran nadaram ay jaan, na leho kaahe lagaye chhatiyan.
Shaban-e hijran daraz chun zulf wa roz-e waslat cho umr kotah;
Sakhi piya ko jo main na dekhun to kaise kaatun andheri ratiyan.
Yakayak az dil do chashm-e jadoo basad farebam baburd taskin;
Kise pari hai jo jaa sunaave piyare pi ko hamaari batiyan.
Cho sham’a sozan cho zarra hairan hamesha giryan be ishq aan meh;
Na neend naina na ang chaina na aap aaven na bhejen patiyan.
Bahaqq-e roz-e wisal-e dilbar ki daad mara ghareeb Khusrau;
Sapet man ke waraaye raakhun jo jaaye paaon piya ke khatiyan.
Do not overlook my misery by blandishing your eyes,
and weaving tales; My patience has over-brimmed,
O sweetheart, why do you not take me to your bosom.
Long like curls in the night of separation,
short like life on the day of our union;

My dear, how will I pass the dark dungeon night
without your face before.
Suddenly, using a thousand tricks, the enchanting eyes robbed me
of my tranquil mind;
Who would care to go and report this matter to my darling?
Tossed and bewildered, like a flickering candle,
I roam about in the fire of love;
Sleepless eyes, restless body,
neither comes she, nor any message.
In honour of the day I meet my beloved
who has lured me so long, O Khusro;
I shall keep my heart suppressed,
if ever I get a chance to get to her trick

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Martin Luther King Jr.

In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.

Martin Luther King Jr. (1929 – 1968)