Rahim & Karim - Acrylic on canvas - 12″ x 18″

This is a small painting that I created in December 2007. I wanted to paint the names of Allah also used in Sufi Zikr (or Dhikr) - Ar-Raheem (the Merciful), Al-Kareem (the Generous). I did not follow any particular style. In the first place I am not a trained calligraphist and secondly I just wanted to be myself - in expressing the particular reverence for these chants.

There are many other names of God among the ninety nine that are also painted across the canvas in light hues. Yes they have an amateur style but then I wanted to make them a part of the composition. Now I could not have given up the idea just because I am not skilled enough with the Arabic script. Lame? No.

In the picture above, the painting is held by Sadia Dehlvi who is writing a book on Sufism these days. And, this little composition was meant to give her the strength and act as good luck charm too.

For an earlier Zikr inspired painting of mine click here.

 I have been rather casually posting news, stories and comments on Lahore’s heritage and its current status on Lahore Nama. While blogging here I was always tempted to write about Lahore or post stuff by others on my beloved city. Noting that this would be rather obsessive, I have created an outlet for this obsession and a new blog is now on the block, as they say.

What differentiates Lahore Nama from other Lahore-centred blogs? Indeed, it is no way near the excellent Lahore metblog that is managed by a good team of motivated bloggers. My focus is on Lahore’s past and viewing the present in relation to that.

Luckily, Darwaish in Lahore has sent me some brilliant pieces and Ahmad Rafay Alam has agreed to the use of his incisive articles on urban planning; and Mayank Austen Soofi has also been contributing stories for cross-posting. In fact Soofi was most kind to announce the birth of Lahore Nama on The Delhi Walla. I quote from that story:

More than 60 years have passed since the creation of our two nations. 60 years should be but a blip in the life of great cities like Delhi and Lahore but meantime much has changed in their characters. And character is destiny. Both cities have continued to grow in ways that makes them very different from each other. Delhi lost its Muslim refinement. Lahore lost its Hindu heritage. Today there are three cities of Delhi and three cities of Lahore: what they used to be; what they are now; what they could have been.

So Lahore Nama is on the blog-horizon and without much effort on my part it is attracting a few hundred visitors each day.

Such is the pull of Lahore….

Well, this evening I was bored with my writing. To amuse myself I assembled this little poem.

This was just another day
humdrum, ordinary, plain
save the few words
of assurance ..
nameless affections
and vacant moments.
So I picked up
a moment, casually
and put it away
in my silly pocket.

I am home now
looking for it;
and just found out
that the crumpled moment
has grown into a premonition
of things to happen
of words that could be said
or left unsaid.

So I have folded that moment
neatly and gently
and placed it in a book
that I intend to read
but might not actually read.

And yet, tomorrow
I want to see what happens to it.
Will it gaze at me,
with a sardonic smile
and inquire: “Are you looking for me”
Again?

Raza Rumi - April 18 - 11 pm

Amir Khusrau

I am a pagan (worshiper) of love: the creed (of Muslims) I do not need;
Every vein of mine has become (taut like a) wire; the (pagan) girdle I do not need.
Leave from my bedside, you ignorant physician!
The only cure for the patient of love is the sight of his beloved –
other than this no medicine does he need.
If there be no pilot on our ship, let there be none:
We have God in our midst: the pilot we do not need.
The people of the world say that Khusrau worships idols.
So I do, so I do; the people I do not need,
the world I do not need.

I rediscovered this exquisite poem by Parveen Shakir after years. This is an intense love poem of rare beauty. It is composite, taut and melodic. I have tried to translate it - however, the impossibility of a translation haunts me..

More so, the reality of days gone by, the visions lost haunts me even more..

Dedicated to those who stand by the sea of evening colours and moods and want to merge with their expanse. And, to someone who lives with time present and time past with equal ease..

yay haseen shaam apni

yay haseen shaam apni
abhi jiss meiN ghul rahi hai
teray parahan kee khushboo
abhi jiss meiN khil rahay heiN
meray khawab kay shagoofay
zera dair ka hai manzar

zera dair meiN ufq par
khilay ga koi sitaara
teri simt daik kar woh
karay ga koi ishara
teray dil ko aayay ga phir
kissi yaad ka bullawa
koi qissa-ay judaaee, koi kaar-ay naamukamal
koi khawab-ay naa shagufta, koi baat kehnay wali

humeiN chaahiyay tha milna
kissi ahad-ay mehrbaaN meiN
kissi khawab kay yaqeeN meiN
kissi aur aasmaaN par
kissi aur sarzameeN meiN
humeiN chahiyay tha milna…

Here is the odd translation rendered by this blogger.

This melting evening of ours
Where everything dissolves
the scent of your clothes
the blossoming
sprouts of my dreams
All dissolves

A deferred vision, this is

In a little while,
a star will emerge on the horizon
To gaze at you
Meaningfully…!
Your heart shall then reminisce
the echo of a memory
The tale of a separation,
Of an unfinished moment
Of unblossomed dreams, things unsaid

We ought to have met
In times, considerate
In pursuit of attainable dreams
On a different sky
On a different earth
We ought to have met

Picture by Raza Rumi

A regular maintenance procedure meant that the website was inaccessible. Many thanks for those who wrote to inquire about Jahane Rumi’s status. But I often wonder about my inexplicable, every day relationship with the blog and how in less than two years, blogging is such an essential part of living.

Sometimes it can be traumatic not to open the dashboard and check the comments or post the poem one remembers or the thought that emerges out of nowhere.

Well, its good to be back.

A friend, for the lack of a better term (why are we always hankering after labels and identities for some associations that lie beyond the act of defining), wrote this piece for Jahane Rumi. She is a follower of the Sufi creed and this is what created a bond between us that refuses to go away despite the different paths and lives we have led. The connection has stood the winds of time. There is an audio-link at the end as well.

Recently while going through some of my late grandfather’s books, I was struck by a feeble looking Deewan of Khowaja Fareed. Feeble because it bore the date of 1964 for its inclusion in his impressive book collection. Expressing the thrill of holding a book which had travelled 44 years in time to reach me is beyond words. Needless to say with what intensity the book’s contents kept me immersed in them for almost two hours with un -interrupted focus which is a rare event in an ever-reaching-out-to-meet-a-target kind of life style we are used to. (more…)

I am grateful to Shahidain for introducing me to another majestic poem of Bulleh Shah with the translation and a preamble:

Ever since the soul has been seperated from its source, it has been pining to go back to it. The feeling of loneliness by man will not end till the soul unites back with the Lord. When God had not manifested himelf, all the the souls were united with Him. When they were seperated , there was a covenant between them, that He would reunite those with Him, who were really desirous to do so. So the Lord is as keen to end the period of seperation as is the yearning soul.

O Maid! Who is this well clad Person?
O Maid! Offer Him a seat and enquire Him sincerely

He has a staff in hand, a blanket on His shoulder
He has glowing eyes
He is not aservant but some one ecstatic
Ask Him politely and sincerely

Do not call Him a servant or a herdman
He is not without any deep secret
He seems seperated (from his Beloved) on the very first night of Union
He has come here looking for his Beloved, O Maid

O Maid! Who is this well clad Person?
O Maid! Offer Him a seat and enquire Him sincerely

He is neither a servant
nor has He any interest in tending buffaloes
He is neither fong of milk nor yoghurt
Neither He feels hungry nor thirsty, O Maid

O Maid! Who is this well clad Person?
O Maid! Offer Him a seat and enquire Him sincerely

Bulleh, the Beloved is hidden and sits aside
Neither He speaks nor reveals any secrets
My father is trying to find a fiance from Kheras
O Maid, whereas my Fiance is with me

O Maid! Who is this well clad Person?
O Maid! Offer Him a seat and enquire Him sincerely

(translated by Saeed Ahmad)

The original Punjabi version is posted below: (more…)