Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Lincoln Portrait

" The dogmas of the quiet past, are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise -- with the occasion. As our case is new, so we must think anew, and act anew. We must disenthrall ourselves, and then we shall save our country... we cannot escape history. ...we will be remembered in spite of ourselves. No personal significance, or insignificance, can spare one or another of us. The fiery trial through which we pass, will light us down, in honor or dishonor, to the latest generation. ...."


Sunday, September 28, 2008

The Hollow Men by T S Eliot

Mistah Kurtz—he dead.A penny for the Old Guy

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.


Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind’s singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer
In death’s dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—
Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom


This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.
Is it like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.


The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear

At five o’clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the KingdomBetween the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very longBetween the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the KingdomFor Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

Hamney duniya mein aakey kya dekha

hamney duniyaa mein aakey kya dekhaa
dekha jo kuchh so Khvaab-saa dekhaa

hai to insaan khaak kaa putala
lek paani kaa bulbula dekha

Khoob dekha jahan ke Khuubaan ko
ek tujh saa na duusaraa dekhaa

ek dam par havaa na baandh habaab
dam ko dam bhar mein yaan havaa dekhaa

na huye terii Khaak-e-paa ham ne
Khaak mein aap ko milaa dekhaa

ab na diije "Zafar" kisii ko dil
ki jise dekhaa bevafaa dekhaa

- Bahadur Shah Zafar

Word-key:lek (a short form of lekin)=but,Khuubaa.N=beauties,habaab=bubble, Khaak-e-paa=dust of the feet (paao.n kii dhuul), aap=self (in the context used here)


Saturday, September 06, 2008

Woh to hum mein tum mein karar tha..

vo jo hammein tum mein qaraar thaa tumhein yaad ho ke na yaad ho
vahii yaanii vaadaa nibaah kaa tumhein yaad ho ke na yaad ho

vo naye gile vo shikaayatein vo maze maze kii hikaayatein
vo har ek baat pe roothnaa tumhein yaad ho ke na yaad ho

koi baat aisii agar huii jo tumhaare jii ko burii lagii
to bayan se pahale hii bhuulanaa tumhein yaad ho ke na yaad ho

suno zikr hai kai saal kaa, koi vaadaa mujh se thaa aap kaa
vo nibaahane kaa to zikr kyaa, tumhein yaad ho ke na yaad ho

kabhii hammein tum mein bhii chaah thii, kabhii ham se tum se bhii raah thii
kabhii ham bhii tum bhii the aashnaa, tumhein yaad ho ke na yaad ho

hue ittefaaq se gar baham, vo vafaa jataane ko dam-ba-dam
gilaa-e-malaamat-e-arqabaa, tumhein yaad ho ke na yaad ho

vo jo lutf mujh pe the beshtar, vo karam ke haath mere haath par
mujhe sab hai.n yaad zaraa zaraa, tumhein yaad no ki na yaad ho

kabhii baiThe sab hai.n jo ruu-ba-ruu to ishaaraton hii se guftaguu
vo bayaan shauq kaa baramalaa tumhe.n yaad ho ki na yaad ho

vo biga.Danaa vasl kii raat kaa, vo na maananaa kisii baat kaa
vo nahiii.n nahii.n kii har aan adaa, tumhe.n yaad ho ki na yaad ho

jise aap ginte the aashnaa jise aap kahate the baavafaa
main vahii huu.N "Momin"-e-mubtalaa tumhein yaad ho ke na yaad ho

- Momin


1. This touching poem by Momin is one of the most famous poems in Urdu Literature

2.Momin Khan ( 1800-1851) was an Indian poet famous for his urdu ghazals and used "Momin" as his takhallus (the Urdu word for nom de plume). He was born in Delhi. He was also called "Hakeem Momin Khan" because he was a physician also. Hakeem is an Urdu word for physician. Read more about him at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Momin_Khan_Momin

3. Listen to this ghazal on You-tube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AH0x2CvTec0&feature=related

Ye to nahee kee gam nahee..

Ye toh Nahi ke Gam Nahi ….
Haan Meri Aankh Nam Nahi…

Tum bhi Toh Tum Nahi ho Aaj
Hum bhi Toh Aaj Hum Nahi …

Ab naa Khushi ki hai khushi ….
Gam ka bhi ab to gam Nahi…

Maut agar-cheh Maut hai ….
Maut se ye zindagi bhi to kam Nahi …

Yeh toh Nahi ke Gam Nahi ….
Haan Meri Aankh Nam Nahi…

- Sung by Chitra Singh

Key to words : Gam :sadness, Nam : moist, agar-cheh :although

Listen to this beautiful ghazal at YouTube : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9xaqON0sXE

Tit Bits..

keval badal nahee aankh ko,
thodee see dopahar bhee le aana
jeetey jeetey maretey hain sab
tum martey martey jee jaana

jab jab thakan sindhu ho jaye
aur chetna lagey doobney
baith hriday ke madiralay mein
tab tab dard sura pee lena

-Ramasnehi lal sharma 'yayavar'

Dono or prem palta hai,
priya,patang to jalta hee hai
deepak bhee jalta hai



Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Martin Luther King's Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech

December 10, 1964
Oslo, Norway

I accept the Nobel Prize for Peace at a moment when twenty-two million Negroes of the United States of America are engaged in a creative battle to end the long night of racial injustice. I accept this award in behalf of a civil rights movement which is moving with determination and a majestic scorn for risk and danger to establish a reign of freedom and a rule of justice.

I am mindful that only yesterday in Birmingham, Alabama, our children, crying out for brotherhood, were answered with fire hoses, snarling dogs and even death. I am mindful that only yesterday in Philadelphia, Mississippi, young people seeing to secure the right to vote were brutalized and murdered. And only yesterday more than 40 houses of worship in the State of Mississippi alone were bombed or burned because they offered a sunctuary to those who would not accept segregation.

I am mindful that debilitating and grinding poverty afflicts my people and chains them to the lowest rung of the economic ladder.

Therefore, I must ask why this prize is awarded to a movement which is beleaguered and committed to unrelenting struggle; to a movement which has not won the very peace and brotherhood which is the essence of the Nobel Prize.

After contemplation, I conclude that this award which I receive on behalf of that movement is profound recognition that nonviolence is the answer to the crucial political and moral question of our time -- the need for man to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to violence and oppression.

Civilization and violence are antithetical concepts. Negroes of the United States, following the people of India, have demonstrated that nonviolence is not sterile passivity, but a powerful moral force which makes for social transformation. Sooner or later all the people of the world will have to discover a way to live together in peace, and thereby transform this pending cosmic elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood.

If this is to be achieved, man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love. The tortuous road which has led from Montgomery, Alabama, to Oslo bears witness to this truth. This is a road over which millions of Negroes are travelling to find a new sense of dignity.

This same road has opened for all Americans a new ear of progress and hope. It has led to a new Civil Rights bill, and it will, I am convinced, be widened and lengthened into a superhighway of justice as Negro and white men in increasing numbers create alliances to overcome their common problems.

I accept this award today with an abiding faith in America and an audacious faith in the future of mankind. I refuse to accept despair as the final response to the ambiguities of history. I refuse to accept the idea that the "isness" of man's present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal "oughtness" that forever confronts him.

I refuse to accept the idea that man is mere flotsom and jetsom in the river of life unable to influence the unfolding events which surround him. I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality.

I refuse to accept the cynical notion that nation after nation must spiral down a militaristic stairway into the hell of thermonuclear destruction. I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant.

I believe that even amid today's motor bursts and whining bullets, there is still hope for a brighter tomorrow. I believe that wounded justice, lying prostrate on the blood-flowing streets of our nations, can be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men.

I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits. I believe that what self-centered men have torn down, men other-centered can build up. I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the altars of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed, and nonviolent redemptive goodwill will proclaim the rule of the land.

"And the lion and the lamb shall lie down together and every man shall sit under his own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid."

I still believe that we shall overcome.

This faith can give us courage to face the uncertainties of the future. It will give our tired feet new strength as we continue our forward stride toward the city of freedom. When our days become dreary with low-hovering clouds and our nights become darker than a thousand midnights, we will know that we are living in the creative turmoil of a genuine civilization struggling to be born.

Today I come to Oslo as a trustee, inspired and with renewed dedication to humanity. I accept this prize on behalf of all men who love peace and brotherhood. I say I come as a trustee, for in the depths of my heart I am aware that this prize is much more than an honor to me personally.

Every time I take a flight I am always mindful of the man people who make a successful journey possible -- the known pilots and the unknown ground crew.

So you honor the dedicated pilots of our struggle who have sat at the controls as the freedom movement soared into orbit. You honor, once again, Chief (Albert) Luthuli of South Africa, whose struggles with and for his people, are still met with the most brutal expression of man's inhumanity to man.

You honor the ground crew without whose labor and sacrifices the jet flights to freedom could never have left the earth.

Most of these people will never make the headlines and their names will not appear in Who's Who. Yet when years have rolled past and when the blazing light of truth is focused on this marvelous age in which we live -- men and women will know and children will be taught that we have a finer land, a better people, a more noble civilization -- because these humble children of God were willing to suffer for righteousness' sake.

I think Alfred Nobel would know what I mean when I say that I accept this award in the spirit of a curator of some precious heirloom which he holds in trust for its true owners -- all those to whom beauty is truth and truth beauty -- and in whose eyes the beauty of genuine brotherhood and peace is more precious than diamonds or silver or gold.