The Call… پکار دے

While walking through a forest last night, a mosquito was buzzing in my ear. Soon after, I found two mosquito bites on me. One on my right forearm and the other on my right ring finger. It reminded me of a verse I had heard years ago to the effect of:


پشہ سے سیکھے کوئی شیواہِ مردانگی

جو  قصدِ  خوں  کو  آے،  تو   پکار  دے


Pishay say seekhay koi shewa-e-mardangi

Jo Qaasad-e-khoon ko aye, to pukaar day


Which for me means that one should learn bravery and ‘manliness’ from a mosquito for when it comes for blood, it will warn you first and not strike from the shadows. An interesting twist of idea and notion but it led me to tap out a ghazal on my phone in the forest in the same zameen which follows:


ساقی خیالِ مال توں دل سے اتار دے

نقدی نہیں ہے آج تو، تھوڑا ادھار دے

O cupbearer

Forget about the money

I do not have cash today

Let’s work on credit


نہ  جا اٹھ  کے اس بےرخی  سے  توں

زلف پریشان ہے میری، توں سنوار دے

Do not leave me

devoid of feeling

Can you run your fingers

through my tousled hair


دو آنسوں توں میری میت پے گرا دے

اشکوں سے آج میری، تربت سنوار دے

Weep a while

For my death

Your tears may

Make my grave beauteous


کچھ تو امید  باندھ  یا رب  کے اب

دل مایوس ہے میرا، خیالِ نگار دے

Give me some hope

For I feel sad

Give me a thought

Of the beloved


کیسے آدابِ شرافت سیکھے ہیں تم نے؟

آئیں ہیں در پے تیرے، توں دھتکار دے؟

What manners

Have you learnt?

I come to your door

And you push me away?


خزاں تو بے دل کرتی ہے استاد کو

کچھ  جوشِ جنوں دے،  تو بہار دے

Fall is depressing

If there is any madness

It comes to me

In spring


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Filed under Ghazal, Poetry

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