جلتی آنکھوں میں چند راتیں بجھتے خوابوں میں چند صبحیں مہکتی سانسوں میں چند لمحے سلگتی یادوں میں چند شامیں !بے سبب نہیں تھیں دسمبر کی اس شام میں جسے سارے منظر ٹھہر گئے ہیں راتیں، صبحیں ، لمحے ، شامیں زیست کا اب عنوان ہوئی ہیں میرا کچھ سامان ہوئی ہیں
You can not be perfect in every sense of the word, but You could be among such few people who are blessed in many ways. For beauty and brains, for talents and guts, for intelligence and manners are rarely combined in a person, and if they do, those are specialized people. There were many who were succumbed to the charms of Parveen Shakir, for she was beautiful and daring, for she was all a woman could dream of being, yet there was just one, she was madly in love with and for whom she wrote her fragrant poetry. She left too early, but her fragrance shall always be missed.
When every hour is a rushing hour
When every minute demands attention
When the body gets ache and
When the soul is being neglected
In this quickly evaporating time
If You find a few moments to spend
Believe You me
You are blessed.
At the Barajas Madrid airport, her landing was much more than an entry into Spain. It was her most earnest wish.
But many things were unfathomable. Like her irregular breathing, increased pulse and shivering limbs.
Anticipation was killing her.
The prospect of seeing him once again was too much to bear.
While collecting luggage and helping Bibi jaan carrying her own things, she was slightly disoriented. She could not wait any longer to rush out of the exit door, yet a part of her was stopping her from moving forwards. "You are in danger zone," an inner voice warned her.
And then she realized how true that was. Yes she was in danger zone. He was too handsome.
She realized as his huge frame materialized in front of her. As soon as she was out of the artificially cold atmosphere of the airport building into the open sunshine, two facts hit her hard. The scorching summer heat of Madrid and the handsome Spaniard standing in front of her, were both real.
He was hugging her dad and was meeting humbly with Bibi jaan and her mom. Imad and herself were in the queue.
And then she heard him saying loudly to her " bienvenido a Espana mi amiga."
"Gracias Senor" She was all smiles too.
"Good to have you guys around." he was genuinely happy.
"Its too hot here" Mawra could not resist commenting.
His laughter was instantaneous. "Suhail your kid thought Karachi is the only city where you have summers."
Her dad laughed and put an arm around her shoulder.
"I have been to many other cities too. And I am not a kid remember?" The face she made was enough to make everyone laugh.
"Sorry madam. But you still have to endure the heat of Madrid. We do have intense summers in Spain. Use Sun Creams. "
He said as he went to bring his car from the parking lot. And it was a huge white car, enough to carry their luggage and all of them comfortably. The Air conditioner inside the car was a relief to her senses.
"I thought you may not come to pick us up personally Daniyal. Isn't it your working hour?" Amna Suhail started the converstaion. He looked back into the mirror and smiled.
"We call it jet lag bhabhi. I planned your trip so I could come to pick you guys up. Its saturday today." he laughed and everybody else did too.
And Mawra could not believe she was with him. In his car . in his land and very soon in his home.
A borrowed Poem. Poet unknown. Muhabbat mein kabhi dorahey ka imkan nahi hota Ye hoti hai to hoti hai
Nahi hoti to jitna bhi jatan ker lo,nahi hoti
Koi acha agar lag jaye to sab khami’yan is ki Achanak khobi’yon ki ourhni mein chup si jati hein Zamana lakh samjhaye, sambhal jao Samat aur basarat ko sujhai kuch nahi deta Samajh ata hai us lamhey Key jab daman mein lakh’on chyed ho ja’ein Kabotar key par’on key sath liptey Sab ayaa’n jab bheyd ho jain Muhabbat mein kabhi dorahey ka imkan nahi hota .. Ye hoti hai to hoti hai Nahi hoti to jitna bhi jatan ker lo,nahi hoti
I wrote a few words and sent for publication.
It was instantaneous.
There couldn't have been a better time, with tenderness in your heart, silent lips and wet eyes, the most natural story may come into existence.
Under the canopy of illuminating chandeliers
surrounded by good looking, perfumed people
When I had just a few moments
to spend in my company
I heard someone playing an old music
on the saddening tunes of violin
oh in that very special moment
I lived my whole life
Why do I have to know the unknown?
Sometimes we are better off without knowing certain things.
unknown may not bother you,
known would follow you to the core.
Till you find yourself
drowned in its depth.
And today someone came and told me, I admire you for who you are, how do you survive, how do you keep your spirits alive? How do you manage your various inclinations?
And There I was not wondering at her admiration, on the contrary, it made me ponder over the time lapse, the repetition of the same events I went through in recent past, the depressions, the loneliness, the mellow spirits, the shallow feelings, it all came back today.
I remember I said those similar words to someone else too, who was my mentor and ideal for striving hard and surviving and for keeping the smile alive.
So it turns out that time repeats itself, today where she is, I was someday, and today where I am , I desired to be the other day.
And then how I see from here is that, where I want to be , I shall be there soon too.
But does the desire ever fade? We keep on running but are we ever satisfied?
For me its a big No. For You, go find yourself.
I know one thing, the day my desires are gone, I am gone.
At times even big jokes would not effect you,
and at others a tiny small thing can bring along the most natural smile.
Like seeing a lost friend after a long time,
Like playing with a tiny naughty toddler,
Like hearing a new song that matches your mood!
Her MP3 player was on with non stop Nayyara Noor singing
"Aey ishq humain barbaad na ker"
("O Love do not desolate me")
Clad in her black pajamas, lying on her stomach with a pillow under her chin, her eyes closed , legs crossed , it was her late night hour , her very own, when she was alone with herself.
Sometime ago she was busy with her assignment that was due to submit in the morning when she saw her cell phone displaying a number from Spain. And then she turned it to a silent mode. Still she could see the number blinking and it was enough to distract her from studies and to disturb her to the very core.
And now when Nayyara in her tender voice was singing this sad ghazal, a single tear was blinking in her eye. She put the cell phone under another pillow so she could not see who was trying to reach her.
"You can not reach me now, its over." She said to an unseen image.
She could not know when her father came inside her room and tapped her shoulder.
For a minute she was surprised and then next moment she turned the music down.
"You are listening to music at this late hour Mawra, and I thought you were sound asleep", He said gently.
"Sorry Baba I was about to go to sleep. Is everything OK? Do you need coffee?" , his father occasionally asked her for a cup of coffee in the late hours.
"No honey, its Daniyaal, calling you for sometime and when you were not responding, he called me to know if everything was alright, told him you might be sleeping but he was right, you are still up listening to ghazals!"
he smiled and handed over his cell phone to her.
Oh gosh, she never knew he could find the alternative ways to reach her.
It was not easy maintaining a normal attitude when she started speaking to him, but she had to do it. It felt like she was listening to him after ages.
"I was listening to loud music and my cell phone is not with me, i think its in my bag" , she was bad at lying she knew.
Her father left the room soon then and she was alone with him. The sad ghazal was still playing in the backdrop making her feel like being a character of an epic sad love story.
"And what about so many other times when you did not respond to my calls, it made me worried Amiga."
"I was busy, really"
"I don't know but let me tell you I had a feeling it was something else. Anyways what is that music in the background? I seem to like it."
"Its a ghazal sung by Nayyarra Noor, my favorite singer"
"A ghazal as those sung by Nusrat fateh Ali? I love listening to this kind of music, can you send me its link?"
"Sure, Do u listen to urdu music?"
His laughter was instantaneous. What is urdu music , english music, spanish music? Music has no boundaries and Ihappen to understand urdu, remember?"
"Yes" , she lied. She forgot he knows urdu language, just as she was trying to forget how his eyes sparkled and how his smile melted her heart.
"So hows preparation for tour de Spain?"
"I dunno, mom is doing all the preparation"
"Actually I called up specially to inform you that I have found a very secluded swimming pool for you here in my neighborhood, its one of my female colleagues who has gone out on a project to US and her house is big enough to accommodate a pool. She had handed me over the keys with the permission that my guests can use her swimming pool area. I was so excited to let you know Amiga. Now when you are here in Madrid you can enjoy swimming as much as you can , so bring along your swimming gear."
It was such a big surprise to her, she could not imagine he could go to such an extent to ask a favor from his colleague for her. She was touched deeply.
"Thank You. " She could not say much.
"Tengo el placer Amiga"
"I am waiting for you guys to come over. You don't know how I miss a family around me and you people are all I have."
There was this ache in his voice that made her single dangling tear fell off her left eye.
"We'll be there soon and we'll keep you so much busy that in the end you'll want us to send us back. So Beware." she replied smilingly, this was the first genuine smile she had in days.
He laughed "You bet senorita. Now be a good girl and go to sleep and pick up my calls or you will miss big fun in life"
When raindrops kissed the forehead
of a dry deserted land
The essence of love evolves
in the form of soothing fragrance
Can we play the characters
of this epic story
While I become the dry land
and you portraying the raindrops
kiss my forehead with love
seal my fragrance forever.
They say nothing lasts forever but let me rephrase, A Hajj does.
It is a memory that is never erased even if the whole clone of memory cells are replenished, even if you are surviving an Alzheimer's disease, even then i am sure, the feeling and memories of Hajj never fade out.
This is a blind love, it pulls you towards itself, you run madly towards your beloved, never minding leaving behind your loved ones. The attraction is so powerful, for once you are trapped, you are gone forever.
Even after coming back from the Holy land, one is so equipped with the rituals, that every year the Zul Hajj moon sighting can evoke the same restless feeling in the depth of your soul. You tend to fly away with all the love birds, millions of them, travelling across continents to gain in return, the ultimate reward of Love , Peace, Purity.
My heart is one such love bird today, waiting to be clad in white uniform, fly away to the far away Holy land.
میرے چارہ گر یہ جو زخم ، زخم سے خواب ہیں، یہ جو رات ہے میرے چار سو مرے بےخبر ، مرے بےنشاں ، میں تھا کس نگر ، تو رھا کہاں کہ زماں ، مکاں کی یہ وسعتیں ، تجھے دیکھنے کو ترس گئیں وہ مرے نصیب کی بارشیں ، کسی اور چھت پر برس گئیں
I wish to seek a hideout in a cave.
A deep dark cave, where no one could reach me.
Where I can cry my heart out, where I don't have to hide my tears.
Where there is just me and my Creator, where I can have a connection with Him, the way my Prophet did.
Where I do not have to hear the news I am hearing each day.
Where my children are not kidnapped for lust and ransom and then killed and thrown down on solitary beaches in school uniforms.
Where there is no heartless human known.
Where I don't have to sign a high grade tumor report to innocent people who do not know how their life is growing into a misery.
Where there is no pain behind smiles.
Where there is no tear behind the masked face.
Where , if I die, I'm not guilty of not being able to help out my fellow beings.
Mustansar Hussain Tarar's review of Elif Shafak's "The Forty rules of Love"
۔الف شفق کے ’’ محبت کے چالیس اصول‘‘ میں عین ممکن ہے کہ مولانا روم کی حیات کو جوں کا توں نہ بیان کیاگیا ہو‘ کہانی پن کے لئے کچھ آمیزش کی گئی ہو لیکن یہ ایک گہرا تاثر آپ کی روح کی گہرائیوںمیں یوں اتارتا ہے کہ وہ آپ کی زندگی کا ایک حصہ بن جاتا ہے‘ البتہ اسکے پڑھنے کا ایک نقصان ہوتا ہے…آپ سمجھتے ہیں کہ آپ محبت کے تجربے سے گزرے ہیں‘ اسے پڑھ کر احساس ہوتا ہے کہ نہیں گزرے ! Translation: "Elif Shafak in her novel "The Forty rules of love" may have added some fiction to Rumi's life to weave the story, yet it leaves a deeper impact to your soul to amalgamate into your life. Still one remains at a loss after reading the book.... when You think you know what Love is, after the read up you may feel, You still fail to understand what love is!"
“He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.” ― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina “I think... if it is true that there are as many minds as there are heads, then there are as many kinds of love as there are hearts.” ― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
So it is concluded that none of the feelings we go through is unique. Someone somewhere, in their own states of being, have gone through those feelings too. May be since the beginning of times, the feelings are same. May be the tremors of restlessness I am going through , were felt by the very first human being ever created. And yet, still in my madness, this feeling is so unique to myself. What an Irony!
You can run away from all other things but the tenderness inside your heart, pondered Mawra.
The geranium flowers lost fragrance.The summer breeze suffocate her
The crescent moon made her weep.
For days she could not continue her dance sessions and at times she skipped her prayers. She could not fathom the piercing pain that was throbbing in her veins so deeply.
Even though she was not sure in the beginning, with the passage of time she grew accustomed to the fact that she was the victim of a single sided crush. A crush that felt like love. Or may be she did not know what love truly meant. It was a mere fascination probably, just that she was hit harder.
The day she heard Helen's voice in his bedroom, she was hit harder.
She did not know how to respond, what to believe and what not. She was pushed out of her dreamworld and that was like a downfall. The dead end.
She threw away her cell phone, stop texting and calling him. She knew she was trying to run a mile, but then what other option she had.
Going out with friends, spending her day at club, doing endless shopping for the upcoming cousins wedding , she did not have time to even spend with herself.
All day she laughed and teased. But it was the loneliness in her bedroom in the dark hours that scared her, made her helpless.
It was the sad radio music bringing out the tenderness hidden beneath the fog of false laughter.
And it was when she used to be online, it was his name she was googling around, seeing his images that he would never come to know, she could access from across the continents.
That's when, after a long month of fighting with herself, she gave in.
She surrendered to the power of love. She bowed her head and admitted, it was not a crush or fascination, it was much superior to them both. Love as they may call it, was unfathomable, unexplained, unhindered suffering. Something deeper, much more deeper.
She tried to run away ..... from him.... but failed.
For You can run away from all other things but the tenderness inside your heart.
It isn't easy to be a romanticist To walk on pebbles to get to the sea Scratched by thorns to reach the flower To bear a burn in lightening a perfumed candle You have to suffer in quest of your desires and dreams. It really isn't easy to be a romanticist
At times one could so much relate to a verse or few lines or an sketch or an sculpture.
As I went still when I happened to read this..
"He was larger than life, the close up zooming in on his face causing his sleepy brown eyes to look directly into hers as he smiled into the camera. His hair was still black and shiny, exactly as she remembered it from back then. How many years ago was it? Every so often, she counted.... ten.....eleven....always surprised that the yearning hadn't gone away....."
She was standing on the terrace, there was a quietness prevailing all around her, everybody in their bedrooms fast asleep, except Mawra. Suddenly she had an urge to have caffeine. Her veins needed a rush of blood instead of this smooth flow or may be she needed a divergence. The books and music were no more helping her tonight.
Back in her room, seeing her reflection in the mirror, she decided to tie her hair in a loose knot, her light blue pajamas were decent enough, she simply draped a stole around her shoulders and went downstairs to the kitchen.
While mixing the coffee she put two mugs on the marble counter. Remembering the weekend night when she was watching a movie and on Daniel's return from Lahore, she was preparing coffee for them both. But even then they could not have coffee together.
When brought her coffee mug with her in the lawn, there was a sacred silence which she needed at that moment. At times we need to spend time with ourselves, we need to speak and listen to our own feelings. Darkness, loneliness and quietness make a decent trio. They launch you inner self out and let you face your own conflicts. You may confront your soul or you may find a way out.
She was sitting on a white lawn swing while having coffee. It was dark, thick and bitter than usual. She needed to alter her taste tonight. May be she needed to alter her thoughts too.
It was many days since she had lost her regular sleep cycle. She had become a night bird, staying up for no reason. And this was effecting her studies adversely. She had lost her appetite, her weight and her natural skin glow. She had lost her charming self too, had grown more quite and secluded.
Was there any reason for all of it? Yes she was sure there was. She was in love. truly, madly, deeply.
There was no resemblance between the two. They were from two different worlds. But did it matter? Nothing matters to Mawra Suhail now, she was at a stage of feelings where nothing matter much. She was sure she was alone in her deep feelings towards him, he would never reciprocate in the same manner, there may be affection , kindness or care, but the reason would never be the same for Daniel Malik. And may be he would never even know her side of story as she had no intention of telling him. Her feelings were so precious to herself, she would never like anybody to make them feel retarded or absurd.
"Mawra, is that You? "
Her thoughts were interrupted by the gentle voice of her father.
"Why up so late? Everything alright?" he came to sit beside her on the swing and put one arm around her shoulders.
His voice was so gentle, for an instant she felt like sharing everything with him.
"No particular reason Baba, just wanted to have coffee. Should I make you some coffee too?"
"In this summer night, no way. You may have altered taste, I don't." he smiled gently.
"Is there something worrying You sweetheart? " he said.
"What gave you that impression?"
"Well, many things, It seems you are going through a transitional phase of your life, as if you are growing up or rather growing mature. It isn't bad to spend time with yourself, but its bad losing your cheery self. I miss my Mawra who was chuckling, giggling and talking all the time. I miss her laughter in my home. I want may daughter back, bring her back to me , will You please? "
Mawra was speechless, she had nothing to say. It was all true, there was nothing to deny. She just nodded with a half hearted smile. And was surprised to know, his dad was such an observer.
"You can share yourself with anyone you feel at ease with. We are not just your parents, we are your friends too, remember? Don't You ever feel alone my little girl. "
He was giving her another dose of surprise. How could he reach to something she had only kept to herself.
He brought her back inside and put her to bed like a baby.
She had tears in her eyes when she finally dozed off.