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Archive for October, 2006
Do not despair, my soul…
 
Do not despair, my soul, for hope has manifested itself;
the hope of every soul has arrived from the unseen.
Do not despair, though Mary has gone from your hands,
for that light which drew Jesus to heaven has come.
Do not despair, my soul, in the darkness of this prison,
for that king who redeemed Joseph from prison has come.
Jacob has come forth from the veil of occlusion,
Joseph who rent Zulaikha’s veil has come.
You who all through night to dawn have been crying “O Lord,”
mercy has heard that “O Lord” and has come.
O pain which has grown old, rejoice, for the cure has come;
O fastened lock, open, for the key has come.
You who have abstained fasting from the Table on high,
break your fast with joy, for the first day of the feast has come.
Keep silence, keep silence, for by virtue of the command “Be!”
that silence of bewilderment has augmented beyond all speech.
         — Rumi
            Translation by A.J. Arberry
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Courtesy - Sunlight group
Do not despair, my soul…
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Do not despair, my soul, for hope has manifested itself;
the hope of every soul has arrived from the unseen.
Do not despair, though Mary has gone from your hands,
for that light which drew Jesus to heaven has come.
Do not despair, my soul, in the darkness of this prison,
for that king who redeemed Joseph from prison has come.
Jacob has come forth from the veil of occlusion,
Joseph who rent Zulaikha’s veil has come.
You who all through night to dawn have been crying “O Lord,”
mercy has heard that “O Lord” and has come.
O pain which has grown old, rejoice, for the cure has come;
O fastened lock, open, for the key has come.
You who have abstained fasting from the Table on high,
break your fast with joy, for the first day of the feast has come.
Keep silence, keep silence, for by virtue of the command “Be!”
that silence of bewilderment has augmented beyond all speech.
         — Rumi
            Translation by A.J. Arberry
Â
Courtesy - Sunlight group
Do not despair, my soul…
Â
Do not despair, my soul, for hope has manifested itself;
the hope of every soul has arrived from the unseen.
Do not despair, though Mary has gone from your hands,
for that light which drew Jesus to heaven has come.
Do not despair, my soul, in the darkness of this prison,
for that king who redeemed Joseph from prison has come.
Jacob has come forth from the veil of occlusion,
Joseph who rent Zulaikha’s veil has come.
You who all through night to dawn have been crying “O Lord,”
mercy has heard that “O Lord” and has come.
O pain which has grown old, rejoice, for the cure has come;
O fastened lock, open, for the key has come.
You who have abstained fasting from the Table on high,
break your fast with joy, for the first day of the feast has come.
Keep silence, keep silence, for by virtue of the command “Be!”
that silence of bewilderment has augmented beyond all speech.
         — Rumi
            Translation by A.J. Arberry
Â
Courtesy - Sunlight group
Eid Mubarak - and another winter of discontent
Eid Mubarak to all….
I would like to share an email message sent by the Rural Support Programme Network (RSPN) on the survivors of the October 2005 earthquake. The message is aptly titled, “Another winter, another test of survival”.
I am reproducing  excerpts from the message below.Â
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“One year past the earthquake, the reconstruction and rehabilitation process in the earthquake affected areas of northern Pakistan is far from over. According to some recent assessments, almost 1.8 million people (about 300,000 households) are still without permanent shelters and are living in tents and transitional shelters that offer limited protection against the characteristic harsh winters of this region. With winters around the corner, they have become vulnerable once again and are in need of our support to survive the winter.”
The message further states:
“Our field teams have identified that the most pressing needs of the vulnerable families include tarpaulin sheets, CGI sheets, warm clothes for all ages and groups, blankets, quilts, winter shawls, rain coats, warm caps, socks and shoes.
You can help them at this Eid by making cash or in-kind donations, which we will use to procure the needed items and distribute to the vulnerable households.”
Details of how to send your contributions can be found here Let’s not forget the hapless, marginalized suvivors who need even more attention.
What an Eid - yet again..
I saw this poster published by an organization called Ummat. I am not aware of its antecedents but the caption struck me. In english, it means: “Do not forget us”
Whether asleep or awake, I am thirsty for that Friend…
If you are not going to bed, then sit, I am going.
Tell your tale, I have told mine.
I have had enough of tales and am like a drunkard -
slumber is making me lurch and fall in every direction.
Whether asleep or awake, I am thirsty for that Friend,
the companion and mate of His Image’s form.
Like the form in a mirror I follow that Face, displaying
and concealing His Attributes.
When He laughs, I laugh, and when He becomes agitated,
so do I.
Say the rest Thyself - for the pearls of meaning I have
strung on speech’s necklace derive from Thy Ocean.
        - Rumi
            Translation by William C. Chittick
Whether asleep or awake, I am thirsty for that Friend…
If you are not going to bed, then sit, I am going.
Tell your tale, I have told mine.
I have had enough of tales and am like a drunkard -
slumber is making me lurch and fall in every direction.
Whether asleep or awake, I am thirsty for that Friend,
the companion and mate of His Image’s form.
Like the form in a mirror I follow that Face, displaying
and concealing His Attributes.
When He laughs, I laugh, and when He becomes agitated,
so do I.
Say the rest Thyself - for the pearls of meaning I have
strung on speech’s necklace derive from Thy Ocean.
        - Rumi
            Translation by William C. Chittick
the beloved you’ve lost…
i want to leave this town
but you’ve chained me down
stolen away my heart
leaving yourself behind
now i’ve lost my way
my soul restless and head twisted
all because of those secrets
you once whispered
i only must keep
fasting my heart
to set me free
from sleepless nights
since your only advice
when you saw me in flame
was to keep burning
with you or with your thoughts
words of wisdom
came to me at last
“the beloved you’ve lost
the one you’ve been seeking outside
can only be found inside”
  — Ghazal 2582, from the Diwan-e Shams
     Translation by Nader Khalili
Orhan Pamuk’s recognition and the complex world we live in..
..the characters in my novel are groaning under the burden of universal ideas. Overtaxing yourself with powerful ideas is practically a Turkish passion
Orhan Pamuk, “who in the quest for the melancholic soul of his native city has discovered new symbols for the clash and interlacing of cultures” has won this year’s Nobel Prize for Literature.
On pure literary merits, Orhan Pamuk deserves this award. Politics, however, has marred this extraordinary achievement of a fearless writer. The primacy of media in our times confounds opinion and ‘truth’ itself. That Pamuk denounced the fatwa against Rushdie is not the point. Calling for a public debate on the treatment of Armenians by pre-modern Turkish state was no sin, nor a call for national humiliation as the hardliners in Turkey claim. Nevertheless, given the attitudes of European Union bigwigs to Turkey, often bordering on racism and Islamophobia, Pamuk’s award is seen by many as undermining Turkey that has done more than its capacity to undertake reform.
What a pity that Orhan Pamuk’s genuine brilliance as a writer has been overshadowed by European prejudice, media naivete as well as reinforcement of bias; and above all Turkey’s bruised self-image further complicates the reality.
Pamuk recreates and redefines the magic of Istanbul, a fabulous spot on the globe. He digs the past, ruffles the present and swims with the tense undercurrents of a “secular” Turkey that continues to negotiate its Islamic identity. His novels therefore acquire a larger meaning where art and religion confront politics and love founders at the rocks of power and compromise. Small wonder that his books have been so popular globally and his technique adding additional dimensions to what is known as a “novel”.
I am familiar with only two of his novels that were internationally acclaimed much before the Nobel Prize. Pamuk’s Snow, set in the north-eastern city of Kars, narrates the tensions between Turkey’s urban secular elite and their under-estimated Islamist opponents. The novel unpacks themes of religion, political identity, melancholy and betrayal.
My Name is Red, a murder mystery and a love story at the same time explored the perils of religious mores of sixteenth-century Istanbul. A unique style of novel writing that intersected on art, religion, love, and power.
Pamuk lives for his writing. Despite his training as an architect, he chose to be a full-time writer. Committed and obsessed with his passion for writing he aptly remarked in an interview, “I don’t really fit into the mould, though. I chose art rather than the positivist-rationalist life of an engineer, the one that was meant for me.”
Pamuk got what he deserved and let’s hope that his recognition is viewed in the right perspective.
It is not just Pamuk but Istanbul and its rich mosaic of cultures and movements that has been rewarded.
Discovered: A Raj Pistol in an Unclaimed Locker..
A great story from the Times of India
MUMBAI: The British may have left us six decades ago but fascinating traces of empire continue to pop up in unexpected places. On Tuesday, when an unclaimed locker at the State Bank of India’s head office at Fort was finally opened, the authorities found a gun and a small pile of ammo: an automatic Mauser pistol and five magazines with 261 cartridges.
The locker, registered in the name of Lt A B Greenwood, also had a copy of The Times of India dated September 14, 1923.
Brijesh Singh, deputy commissioner of police (zone-I), said on Wednesday that the bank came across the little haul when it was checking on its unclaimed lockers. On January 27 this year, two carbines and 12 grenades, believed to have been stashed away by Khalistani terrorists, were found in a locker at the SBI’s Bandra branch. The SBI was earlier known as the Imperial Bank. The police believe that the Mauser pistol and the cartridges were placed in safe-keeping before Independence. Seven big cartridges, inscribed with ‘K-10 VIII’, a rod to clean the barrel, a wooden box, some documents and a holster were also in the locker. The Times of India copy has a prominent advertisement from Richardson & Cruddas, the 1858 engineering firm whose nameplate still dominates the factory shed at Byculla. It was nationalised in 1972.
After the general manager of the bank, Tarachand Walve, informed the MRA Marg police about the find, a team of policemen arrived on Tuesday morning to take possession of the goods.
From the documents available DCP Brijesh Singh provided additional details: ‘‘There was a letter from the deputy post master general to Greenwood acknowledging receipt of the two packets found in the locker. There was also a piece of paper which stated that the automatic pistol had been custom made for a Rajah (whose name is not mentioned) and that it cost Rs 300.
“The cartridges cost Rs 200, according to another receipt. The receipt also mentioned that the pistol was a present given to Greenwood,” Singh added.
Unfortunately, there are no personal papers to give us a lead to learning more about Greenwood’s identity or his address. But given that the weapon has lain peacefully in the locker for 83 years, the police have ruled out a possible conspiracy. The ISI has not been blamed.
The image at the top is from here
Pictures from Delhi - Getting to Nizamuddin and Ghalib
My friend ST was in Delhi recently. After returning to Islamabad, he sent me the following pictures of his visits to the great locality of Nizamuddin in Delhi.
Here is a side view of the mosque at Nizamuddin’s shrine
I read this here: He is best known in history for inventing the famous Farsi proverb,â€Hanooz Dilli dur astâ€( Delhi is still far away) which he wrote in reply to the Royal Decree issued by Sultan Ghayasuddin Tughlaq, who had ordered him to leave Delhi before his arrival from the East India where the Sultan had crushed a rebellion. Nizamuddin Auliya wrote that famous line inside the royal decree, which in itself was considered contempt to the throne, punishable by death. However, the Sultan never made it to Delhi, and died in his sleep just on the outskirts of Delhi when his castle’s roof collapsed.
Another one of the shrine. Look at the colours and variety of devotees
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And before you see the hustle bustle of Nizamuddin, Ghalib’s lonesome tomb greets the visitors…
Check this site for some lovely renditions of GhalibÂ
And, ST was wise to take a nice shot of the grave itself. Note the inscription on the top of the tombstone on the omnipresence of the Almighty - Ya Hayu, Ya Qayumu
Ghalib’s verse in English:
“When there was nothing, there was God
If nothing had been, God would have been
My very being has been my downfall
If I hadn’t been, what would it have mattered?”
translation discovered here
 Thank you ST for sharing the pictures and enabling me to undertake a virtual tour of these surreal lanes. I am reminded of Ham ko Maloom hai janat ki haqeeqat…competently translated and found hereÂ
I know the truth about the promise of heaven
Still, it’s a nice thought to keep the heart amused.
My blog is a stranger to me & Mir - saare aalam mein bhar raha hai ishq
What dependent creatures we are..
Since last week, there is no power supply at my house. It has been a time of reflection and getting back to books in dim candle lit rooms. Refreshingly quaint but this has meant that my blog is a stranger to me..
 I cannot blog duing work-hours. This is against my grain and internet cafes’ are noisy, crowded spaces…
I got back to the poetry of Mir Taqi Mir - the finest of Urdu poets. Have been humming this ghazal..
Kya kahun tum se main ke kya hai ishq,
Jaan ka rog hai, bala hai ishq.
Ishq hi ishq hai jahaan dekho,
Saare aalam mein bhar raha hai ishq.
Ishq maashuq ishq aashiq hai,
Yaani apna hi mubtala hai ishq.
Ishq hai tarz-o-taur ishq ke taeen,
Kahin banda kahin Khuda hai ishq.
Kaun maqsad ko ishq bin pohuncha,
Aarzoo ishq wa mudda hai ishq.
Koi khwaahan nahin mahabbat ka,
Tu kahe jins-e-narawa hai ishq.
Mir ji zarad hote jaate hain,
Kya kahin tum ne bhi kiya hai ishq?
Will translate this for the non Urdu readers but I need time and some light I suppose - this time ‘within’
I will reappear tomorrow…
He set the world aflame - Rumi
He set the world aflame,
And laid me on the same;
A hundred tongues of fire
Lapped round my pyre.
And when the blazing tide
Engulfed me, and I sighed,
Upon my mouth in haste
His hand He placed.
(translation by A.J. Arberry)
II
MAULANA’S LAST LETTER TO SHAMS
Sometimes I wonder, sweetest love, if you
Were a mere dream in along winter night,
A dream of spring-days, and of golden light
Which sheds its rays upon a frozen heart;
A dream of wine that fills the drunken eye.
And so I wonder, sweetest love, if I
Should drink this ruby wine, or rather weep;
Each tear a bezel with your face engraved,
A rosary to memorize your name…
There are so many ways to call you back-
Yes, even if you only were a dream.
(translation by Annemarie Schimmel)
Image credit here