:D

My boss's dog...now, how adorable is he!? I want a dog too :(

Ghalib

In poetry, the ghazal is a form consisting of couplets which share a rhyme and a refrain. The word means "the mortal cry of a musk deer". It is believed that very rarely a musk deer will develop a Kasturi in her stomach. The Kasturi is supposed to be a very seductive and appealingly fragrant matter. Unfortunately, to access the Kasturi, the deer has to be killed and the Kasturi extracted from its stomach. The plaintive, mournful cry that the deer makes upon being mortally wounded is what the ghazal tries to capture.

A ghazal traditionally follows some rules like:

Matla - A matla is the first couplet or sher of a ghazal.

Maqta - A maqta is the last couplet or sher of a ghazal in which the poet uses his takhallus (pen name) in various different and interesting ways.

Beher - In simple terms, it is the length of a couplet. Ideally, both the lines of a couplet and all the couplets should have the same length.

Radif - When the last word of every second line is the same, it is a radif.

Qaafiyaa - The qaafiyaa is the rhyming pattern of words that must directly precede the ghazal's radif.

Exceptions:

- Ghazal is just a form. It is independent of any language
- Some ghazals do not have any radif
- Although, every sher, should be an independent poem in itself, it is possible, that all the shers are on the same theme
- In modern Urdu poetry, there are lots of ghazals which do not follow the restriction of same beher on both the lines of sher
- The restriction of maqta is really very loose. Many many ghazals do not have any maqta

Also, the ghazal not only has a specific form, but traditionally deals with just one subject: Love. And not any kind of love, but specifically, an illicit, and unattainable love. The ghazal is always written from the point of view of the lover who is unable to attain his beloved, because either the beloved is just playing with the poet's feelings, or because the societal circumstances do not allow it. Most ghazals can be viewed in a spiritual context, with the beloved being a metaphor for God, or the poet's spiritual master.

In this context, you'll probably appreciate the following even more! Long live Mirza Ghalib...and I would also recommend the soundtrack of the Mirza Ghalib tele-series comprising the deadly combination of Naseeruddin Shah, Jagjit Singh and yes, Gulzar. :)

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har ek baat pe kehte ho tum ke 'tu kya hai' ?
tumheen kaho ke yeh andaaz-e-guftgoo(conversation,speech) kya hai ?

na shole (blaze) mein yeh karishma na barq (lightening) mein yeh ada
koi batao ki woh shokh (coquettish)-e-tundkhoo (acrimony) kya hai ?

yeh rashk(jealousy) hai ki wo hota hai ham-sukhan(to agree) tumse
wagarna khauf-e-bad-aamozi(education)-e-adoo(enemy) kya hai ?

ragoan mein daudte firne ke ham naheen qaayal(fan,fond of)
jab aankh hi se na tapka to phir lahoo kya hai ?

chipak raha hai badan par lahoo se pairaahan (clothes, robe)
hamaaree jeb ko ab haajat(necessity)-e-rafoo(stitches) kya hai ?

jalaa hai jism jahaan dil bhi jal gaya hoga
kuredate ho jo ab raakh, justjoo (desire,inquiry) kya hai ?

woh cheez jiske liye hamko ho bahisht(heaven) azeez
siwaay baada(wine)-e-gul_faam(delicate like flowers)-e-mushkaboo(like the smell of musk) kya hai ?

piyoon sharaab agar khum(wine barrel) bhee dekh loon do chaar
yeh sheesha-o-qadah(goblet)-o-kooza(wine pitcher)-o-suboo(wine pitcher) kya hai ?

rahi na taaqat-e-guftaar (conversation, speech), aur agar ho bhi
to kis ummeed pe kahiye ke aarzoo kya hai ?

huaa hai shaah ka musaahib(associate), fire hai itaraata
wagarna shehar mein ‘Ghalib’ kee aabroo kya hai ?

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

aah ko chaahiye ik umr asar hone tak
kaun jiitaa hai terii zulf ke sar hone tak

daam(net/trap) har mauj mein hai halqaa(ring)-e-sad_kaam-e-nahang (crocodile with a hundred jaws)
dekhein kyaa guzare hai qatare(drop) pe gauhar(pearl) hone tak

aashiqii sabr-talab(patient) aur tamannaa betaab
dil kaa kyaa rang karuun khuun-e-jigar hone tak

ham ne maanaa ke tagaaful(ignore) na karoge lekin
khaak ho jaayenge ham tum ko khabar hone tak

partav-e-khuur(sun’s rays) se hai shabanam(dew) ko fanaa(perish) kii taaliim
main bhii huun ek inaayat(favour) kii nazar hone tak

yak(one)_nazar besh(excess) nahiin fursat-e-hastii(duration of life) gaafil(ignorant)
garmii-e-bazm(gathering) hai ik raqs(dance)-e-sharar(fire) hone tak

gam-e-hastii(sorrows of life) kaa ‘asad’(Lion,Ghalib's original pen name) kis se ho juz(other than) marg(death) ilaaj
shammaa har rang mein jalatii hai sahar hone tak

With a little help from Wikipedia.

Sense

" Love is all a matter of timing...It's no good meeting the right person too soon or too late....If I'd live in another time or place...my story might have had a very different ending."

- 2046

Moving On

Slip inside the eye of your mind
Don't you know you might find
A better place to play
You said that you'd never been
But all the things that you've seen
Slowly fade away

So I start a revolution from my bed
'Cause you said the brains I have went to my head
Step outside 'cause summertime's in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off you face
You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

And so Sally can wait
She knows it's too late
As we're walking on by
Her soul slides away
But don't look back in anger
I heard you say

Take me to the place where you go
Where nobody knows
If it's night or day
Please don't put your life in the hands
Of a Rock 'n' Roll band
Who'll throw it all away

I'm gonna start a revolution from my bed
'Cause you said the brains I have went to my head
Step outside 'cause summertime's in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off you face
'Cause you ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

So Sally can wait
She knows it's too late
As she's walking on by
My soul slides away
But don't look back in anger
Don't look back in anger
I heard you say
At least not today

- Don't Look Back In Anger, Oasis

Incoherence

I know its a little too soon, but I seem to be suffering from the proverbial "writer's block"...I have many half baked thoughts on paper and in my head, but nothing is making any sense! Coherence is an alien concept right now....Its further compounded by the fact that work suddenly seems to have found its way to me...yeah, I am actually busy...I hope the trend doesn't continue for too long...I mean, I do have pages to write before I sleep! Sorry, that was a bad one!

My favourite lines from the movie American Psycho [also because the way CB looks and delivers his lines in this scene ;) ] :

There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable...I simply am not there.

And in case you are wondering, according to me, anyone who writes is a "writer"! :D

Someone

Sometimes in life you come across some unexpected things that leave an ever lasting impression...it could be the playfulness of an extremely hyperactive child, 3 different hues in the sky, the piercing all knowing eyes of a stranger, a flock of birds conferencing or a song seemingly written with you in mind...

Four or maybe five years ago I had discovered blogging...or rather chanced upon a group of very interesting blogs...most of them I have forgotten, some I remember...but only one left an impact on me...it was an assortment of self written poems about love and loss...and they are some of the most beautiful pieces that I have come across till date...not because of their style or depth or poetic talent but because of the feeling with which they were written...the feelings of the writer are almost palpable...the blog was later deleted as I could never trace it again...I don't even know the gender of the writer, for he or she was called "someone" (yes, I blatantly copied that :) )...actually, if I think of it, it doesn't even matter...

Luckily, I had taken the print outs of some of those poems...I dug them out from my files and have retyped them...I have even tried to keep each comma and dot intact...I probably have no right to publish someone else's work, that too a personal and intimate one...but I am torn...I know I could have taken the credit for these and no one would find out...but I would know...so, I'll just take credit for the fact that I have it me to appreciate emotions like these...and I hope that someday I can feel love as fervent as this...

I’ve crept into your temple
I have slept upon your pew
I have dreamed of the divinity
Inside and out of you
I want it more than truth
I can taste it on my breath
I would give my life just for a little death
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“i could write a song for your lips,
or a fleeting poem for your heart
a few honest words, some awkward thoughts…
and only hope that you’ll have a clue…
i have little rhyme, but all the reason
and I will try not to burden you…
i’ll just write it down for you to memorize,
i don’t feel like giving my thoughts away…
it would be nice if you could hum in the night,
and sing it till the memory stays…”
_______________________________________________________

“it turns out that all those nights…
i was watching the same old stars shine…
and the lines I traced over them…
had no way of etching themselves in the sky…

the words that I scrawled all over
they’ll just dry out and fade away…
and I was only hoping that my song…
would do justice to your voice…

my inspiration was my treasure…
don’t know how long I could keep you in sight…
i can live with my silence, like before…
but do you really need to keep so quiet…?

felt a little lonely and tired…
so here I am, down on my knees…
i close my eyes, and catch my breath…
and hear my world fall all around me…”
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“sometimes when I close my eyes, and stay awake
not an insomniac, not yet in quietus…
amidst a few memories and moments that flood me,
stolen, dwelt, candid and precious
those petite thoughts and star gazing
a starlit roof and the world underneath...
past perfect, and future tense…
the present always seemed to inconsequential..
your dulcet voice rings clear, still vivid...
and I fell in love, that day…

then as if it was all over…
as if the stars never lit the sky..
unsaid, unasked, unanswered, yet undone…
words always felt miserably inadequate…
I knew I should not feel sorry…
I never had a chance anyways…
what I had with me, was my dappled sunshine
and all my pain, unrequited yet mine
I just held it all together,
and I thought I’d never love again

today as I stand before yesterday’s ghost…
and I read your voice from my very eyes…
I treasure every single word you write…
and find solace in the mere acceptance of my existence
for I am happy with the wisdom and the innocence,
of someone who knows nothing at all…
flowers or stars don’t matter anymore…
it doesn’t matter if you go away…
and I am all alone again…
I am still very much in love with that day”

Alone - Edgar Allan Poe

Its not a favourite exactly, but I like the way some of the words flow in this poem...enjoy...

"From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone
Then - in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view"

One Tree Hill

Some of my favourite quotes from this serial...just love them!

"Most of our life is a series of images. They pass us by like towns on the highway. But sometimes, a moment stuns us as it happens. And we know that this instant is more than a fleeting image. We know that this moment, every part of it, will live on forever."

"There comes a time when every life goes off course. In this desperate moment you must choose your direction. Will you fight to stay on the path while others tell you who you are? Or will you label yourself? Will you be honored by your choice? Or will you embrace your new path? Each morning you choose to move forward or to simply give up."

"Does this darkness have a name? This cruelty, this hatred, how did it find us? Did it steal into our lives or did we seek it out and embrace it? What happened to us that we now send our children into the world like we send young men to war, hoping for their safe return, but knowing that some would be lost along the way? When did we lose our way? Consumed by the shadows. Swallowed whole by the darkness. Does this darkness have a name? Is it your name?"

"George Elliott once wrote, 'There is no despair so absolute as that which comes from the first moments of our first great sorrow when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and healed, to have despaired and recovered hope."

"Did you ever look at a picture of yourself and see a stranger in the background? It makes you wonder how many people have pictures of you, how many moments of other people's lives we've been in. Were we part of some one's life when their dream came true, or were we there when their dreams died? Did we keep trying to get in, as if we were somehow destined to be there? Or did the shot take us by surprise? Just think, you could be a big part of someone else's life, and not even know it."

"There are moments in our lives when we find ourselves at a crossroads. Afraid. Confused. Without a road map. The choices we make in those moments can define the rest of our days. Of course, when faced with the unknown, most of us would rather turn around and go back. But once in awhile people push on to something better, something found just beyond the pain of going it alone and just beyond the bravery and courage it takes to let someone in. Or to give someone a second chance. Something beyond the quiet persistence of a dream. Because it's only when you're tested that you discover who you truly are. And it's only when you're tested that you discover who you can be. The person you want to be does exist, somewhere on the other side of hard work, faith and belief, and beyond heartache and fear of what lies ahead."

"William Shakespeare wrote, 'Love is not love which alters when it alterations finds, it is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempts and is never shaken. Love alters not with time's brief hours and weeks, but bears it out."

"There comes a time when every life goes off course. In this desperate moment who will you be? Will you let down your defenses and find solace in someone unexpected? Will you reach out? Will you face your greatest fears bravely or move forward with faith? Or will you succumb to the darkness in your soul?"

"At this moment there are six billion, five-hundred and two million, eight hundred and sixty seven thousand one hundred and twenty people in the world-give or take a few. And sometimes all you need is one. For better or for worse."

"Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, “'There is no privacy that cannot be penetrated. No secret can be kept in the civilized world. Society is a masked ball where everyone hides his real character and reveals it by hiding."

"As happens sometimes a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment. And then the moment was gone."

Day 1

The night sets softly
With the hush of falling leaves,
Casting shivering shadows
On the houses through the trees,
And the light from a street lamp
Paints a pattern on my wall,
Like the pieces of a puzzle
Or a child's uneven scrawl.

Up a narrow flight of stairs
In a narrow little room,
As I lie upon my bed
In the early evening gloom.
Impaled on my wall
My eyes can dimly see
The pattern of my life
And the puzzle that is me.

From the moment of my birth
To the instant of my death,
There are patterns I must follow
Just as I must breathe each breath.
Like a rat in a maze
The path before me lies,
And the pattern never alters
Until the rat dies.

And the pattern still remains
On the wall where darkness fell,
And it's fitting that it should,
For in darkness I must dwell.
Like the color of my skin,
Or the day that I grow old,
My life is made of patterns
That can scarcely be controlled.

- Patterns, Simon and Garfunkel