I was interviewed a few weeks ago by DCMediaGirl and co-host Nail ‘em Up by NoQuarter Radio . Got a chance to rant on several issues here. The recording is available here.
Slightly narcisstic of me post it here - but then you can choose to ignore..
6Feb/101
Eighteen years later…
It took eighteen years to locate a friend. Much like a star, the moon, a constellation and an ancient river my friend R has been mercurial, moody and elusive. Hiding one day and emerging the other week, and missing for years.
It is for the technology that enabled me to get reconnected. There is so much to ask and years to tell. A long night of oblivion that was - blissful ignorance but somewhere an image lingered, a memory refused to fade and a star never slept. Our meeting this year will be an unpaid debt to ourselves. We parted in such a hurry and matter-of-fact-ness. Little did I know that it would take eighteen years.
I am amazed at how strongly I have felt in the recent days - it has to do with nostalgia and the slowly diminishing youth..Adulthood has phases that can only be described through experience.
I will be there soon. In the city of neems, pipals and crazy auto-rickshaws.
R, please do not go away..
27Sep/091
A Lahori returns to his city
A friend who just returned to Lahore after spending years in Europe wrote this letter. I quite liked this piece of writing: therefore, with his permission I am posting it here with suitable edits. I think sometimes stuff out of heart leads to great writing. RR
Hey there,
Have been back in the mothersisterland for a week now and the heat has finally started to make its way up to my head. I wish this could have been an ideal rant but sorry to disappoint you ol’ chap it will have to be a slackjawed late night verbal discharge of reflections that one occasionally likes to share on muggy late September night following a dreadfully monotonous day that the whole nation celebrates as eid. The culture shock that I was promised I will get on my return to Pakistan has finally started to manifest itself in loud, vulgar ufone promos on the phone, evolution gone bad displays of road manners and absolutely mind numbing, finer sensibilities gone apeshit offences on TV
7Sep/092
what are you painting?
Your outer life is the palette.
Your inner life is the canvas.
What are you painting?
(The reverse is equally true...)
============
14Aug/095
what is there to celebrate?
Raza Rumi
Today was a usual day despite the platitudes churned out by the media and the struggle to ‘celebrate’ something. Naeem Sadiq’s email was instructive as it said many things that I wanted to write today:
I decided not to celebrate the 14th August this year, to record my personal grief, shame and solidarity with the innocent citizens of Gojra, who were killed , wounded and burnt, for belonging to the same God, but a different religion. In my room I will fly the Pakistan flag at half mast, I will put my TV off, have none of those “milli naghmey” and sing no national anthem. I am sad, ashamed and distressed. I will call up all my Christian friends to say I am deeply sorry and I apologise.
I do not wish to celebrate the birthdays of a land where the Mullahs spread hate from the minarets of their mosques. Where 20,000 Muslims unite to kill a few hundred Christian men, women and children. Where the administration provides bullet proof vehicles and multi layer protection to its leaders but will do nothing to protect the life and property of its ordinary citizens. I am ashamed that not one person, the CM, the PM, the Governor or the President resigned from his job as an admission of failure to perform their primary duty.
There are plenty of flags, parades, speeches and ceremonies, but no real sense of guilt, remorse, or reform. The Dawn newspaper alone has 24 ‘ad’ nauseam ads, sponsored by the government departments, with the tax payers’ money, most carrying the pictures of four members of the same family. All under the garb of a “Happy Birthday to you, dear Pakistan”. The theft and plunder of peoples’ money does not pause for rest, even on the 14th day of August. Should not a state, at a minimum, protect the life and property of all its citizens, to deserve ‘a happy birthday’.
I love my country, this is the only one I have. It is our identity and our future but being a Pakistani is a painful compromise with so much that is not in our grain. In one year, we have treated millions in the northwest like cattle, burnt non-Muslims and our state has withdrawn behind high fences and barriers leaving the citizens to deal with the menace that is not of their making. The recent success of the military operation is a glimmer of hope.
Let us pray that next year things are not as grim as they are today.
Today was a usual day despite the platitudes churned out by the media and the struggle to ‘celebrate’ something. Naeem Sadiq’s email was instructive as it said many things that I wanted to write today:
I decided not to celebrate the 14th August this year, to record my personal grief, shame and solidarity with the innocent citizens of Gojra, who were killed , wounded and burnt, for belonging to the same God, but a different religion. In my room I will fly the
7Aug/092
Majeed Amjad and chopped trees
In response to my article on Lahore's vanishing trees, a reader reminded me of one of my favourite poems in Urdu composed by the lesser known genius, Majeed Amjad. I am posting this poem though I am not sure if everyone will be able to read the Urdu script. I am taking a chance at translating the opening lines:
For twenty years, these trees stood at the doorstep of a singing canal
Gallant guards at the borders of swaying fields
Shady, enticing, blossoming chatnars
All were sold for a mere twenty thousand rupees
In the last stanza, after all the trees have been chopped, the poet cries
Now I stand by the singing canal and muse
In this murderous environment, only my thought sways
Adam's descendants ought to chop me, why not?
17May/090
Farewell Common sense
A friend has reminded me of this insightful "Obituary" that was printed in London Times
Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: Knowing when to come in out of the rain; Why the early bird gets the worm; Life isn't always fair; and maybe it was my fault.
3Apr/095
GOD-FORSAKEN RELIGIONS
A poem by Cecil Rajendra
Any religion
that sidelines
excludes
any one.
Any religion
that does not
open doors to
every one.
Any religion
that targets
fingerpoints
some one.
Any religion
that claims
it’s “the one
and only one”.
Any religion
whose language
is “we” / “they”
and not “us”.
All such religions
run against God
who is Oneness
& abhors divisions.
9Dec/083
The best of Mumbai posts
My friend Annie's post on Mumbai is a remarkable piece of writing. I am cross-posting it here:
The other day, I went shopping for veggies at the nearest supermarket, and found it almost empty. The girls employed there were kidding around with each other. I heard the word ‘terrorist’. One girl told another she’d set the terrorists after her friend. The other one alleged that she was one herself. Light laughter. Odd, somehow. Perhaps, necessary, somehow.
Yesterday, I’d stepped out with my own bag and a laptop, boarded a train and opened a book. My station arrived, I got off and ten seconds later, wondered why my shoulder felt light. I’d forgotten the laptop in the Ladies compartment.
In a mad rush, I turned back. I had no way of tracking down that same train even if I did follow it in the right direction. The train had started moving by then, so I jumped into the nearest compartment. I almost fell. A stranger reached out and grabbed me at the door, pulled me inside. Others asked me to sit down, catch my breath, relax. I was too worried to step away from the door.
3Nov/083
In City of Tolerance…
I was quoted in this NYT article on Lahore
Still, Raza Rumi, a writer and blogger who takes great pride in his city, insisted that “Islamic extremism has had very little appeal here.” The cultural life of Lahore goes on, as it has for centuries.
He said that a recent stage play, “Hotel Moenjodaro,” whose theme was against religious fundamentalism, drew a packed audience. “It was very encouraging,” Mr. Rumi said.
Nonetheless, he said, the Hall Road incident and the juice store blasts were alarming. “If the traders, the merchant class, which forms the bulk of the middle class of Lahore, becomes Talibanized, then the whole complexion of the city will change,” he said. “That’s a fear amongst the secular intelligentsia and elite of Lahore.”
Full story here
20Sep/0814
Islamabad is burning – down with terrorism
What jihad, what Islam and what kind of Muslims these butchers are - they kill innocent people, the underclass outside a posh hotel in Islamabad and think that they are serving some cause. And, this is the month of Ramzan when the Satan is apparently locked up....
The numbers of dead and injured are mounting - there is blood everywhere and a commentator has termed it Pakistan's 9/11.
About time Pakistani government weeds them out and saves us all from this menace.
Horrific. Barbarity at its worst.
ISLAMABAD, Sept. 20 (Xinhua) -- A blast occurred outside Marriott hotel in the center of Pakistan's capital Islamabad on Saturday evening, leaving at least 30 dead and scores of people injured, said the Pakistani Adviser to Prime Minister on Interior Rehman Malik.
20Aug/083
national identity sans freedom
A few quotes from this article in the Hindustan Times - incidentally it also includes what I rambled....
Freedom means everything. But I’m not free. All these concepts are self-imposed imprisonments.—Roshan Seth, actor
Independence has provided me with a national identity but it hasn’t meant freedom. I find myself enslaved to narrow ideas of patriotism. I’m trying to break free. And writing a book on Delhi, the capital of the ‘enemy’ nation, is my first step.
—Raza Rumi, blogger
Personal freedom is crucial to my growth as an artist. ‘Independence Day’ is a distant celebration for me. Each year, as mid-August approaches I am conscious of a sense of loss — I wonder what could have been had the subcontinent not been splintered.
— Sehba Sarwar, poet
Being a (somewhat) responsible parent, I will share with my children the notion that today we remember our national heroes. And amidst the nationalistic pop nuggets being broadcast round the clock, I hope they hear Yeh watan tumhara hai, tum ho Pasban iss kay, yeh chaman tumhara hai, tum ho naghma khwan iss kay…
— Shandana Minhas, author
18Aug/084
Sab Thath pada reh jaye ga…(When the gypsy-headman leaves)
These pithy Urdu verses by Nazeer Akbarabadi lament that all will be abandoned when the Banjara (gypsy), the headman or Naik in the folklore, [or at a general level the life-traveller] will leave his temporal abode.
8Jul/084
Impressions – White Mughals by William Dalrymple
My bright, young friend Imaduddin (left) has written this excellent, terse review of the engaging book White Mughals.
Yesterday when he emailed me this text, I was intrigued by his views as well as envious of his ability to say a lot in so few words. I enjoyed the book for the era it evoked with such craftsmanship and tenderness. However, Imaduddin says it all:
Quick and dirty impressions of White Mughals by William Dalrymple
Beautiful prose with a significant point brought out: that the British DID integrate in India prior to their discriminatory laws against mixed race progeny of the 1780s, the policy that East India Company servants would be older when they arrived in India, the arrival of white memsahibs and the arrival of condescending, colonial attitudes. Dalrymple finds that a third of Company servant wills bequeathed property to native wives, concubines and children until the afore mentioned advents, after which wills including native family dropped to almost none.
Vivid depictions of the court life and society of perhaps India's most cultured city, Hyderabad, are brought out in this book, as are the enlightened, seeking attitudes of early British Company servants who integrated beautifully into Mughal society, as had the Portugese into Indian society earlier - as had every other foreigner invader into India, an India which had turned rugged Mughal warriors into artsy Rennaisance men.
The love story of Khair un Nissa, cousin to an ambitious minister in the Nizam's court, and James Kirkpatrick, the Company's Resident in Hyderabad, is the thread that brings all these themes together, but is unnecessarily long. If I were Dalyrymple's editor, I'd have cut this 500 page book by a fifth - there is much repitition.
If you don't have time to read love stories and are interested in historical commentary on India, read the first 57 pages. That will be enough.
30Jun/088
that overgrown suitcase of memories
This poem (or an excuse of a poem) was written in a flash for a friend who asked for advice whether to meet an old flame or not.
If you have to go to the North, my love
Why not take the first train
To gaze at the autumn sky
Feel the chilly air in your bones
Clear all the dust
A painting has gathered in years.
Stroke the love that is not lost
Even if for the few moments
when you look at the sky
When all the dust has been cleared
Alas, that will be the time to come back
It will be sad, as it was before
But the quivering moments stolen from life
will come back with thee
And, life shall not be all that empty
you will smile at the little treasure in
that wobbling and quavering,
overgrown suitcase of memories
18Jun/082
M.F. Husain, Tyeb Mehta are stars at Christies
Saw this story here a while ago
Christie’s South Asian modern and contemporary art sale here March 20 will feature works of leading 20th and 21st century artists from various countries in the region, including India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. The sale will focus on prime examples of many different movements, styles and highlights and will include works from modern masters M.F. Husain, Francis Newton Souza, Tyeb Mehta, Vasudeo S. Gaitonde, Syed Haider Raza and Ram Kumar as well as works from leading contemporary artists including Atul Dodiya, Bharti Kher and Jitish Kallat.
A 1981 untitled painting by Mehta, the lauded master of Indian Modernism, is one of the sale highlights and is estimated at $600,000-800,000. The painting depicts two female figures intermingled, demonstrating Mehta’s formal and psychological considerations, and the two forms suggest the tangled figures of his later “Mahisasura†series.
3Jun/086
Delhi and Lahore – globalised fads and trends
This piece of mine appeared in the Hindustan Times yesterday. An accidental piece it was, written on the request of a friend during my recent stopover in Delhi.
Delhi-Lahore hip factor
Be it Khan Market or MM Alam Road, life for young guns in both Delhi and Lahore is a blend of cafe culture, cool music and retail nirvana
A Pakistani like me who is visiting Delhi cannot help but identify the commonalities between the Indian capital and Lahore. The climate, the predominant Punjabi influence, the urban chaos and indeed the quest for a good life are as shared as the centuries of mixed history.
In Delhi, these ingredients are packaged into a single space, loved and mourned in equal measure, the Khan Market. Its swanky cafes, retail outlets spell out a comfortable sense of the plentiful. A trip to Bahri Booksellers is essential to check on the new, profound and banal book titles. Step out of the book-zone, walk around and you see young men and women holding hands and out to buy a little dose of happiness from the upmarket retail stores. New frames for glasses, an array of pret-a-porter garments and of course cafes where one can lounge while sipping an exotic coffee brew with a fancy cake. Barista is a favourite of mine with its neo-modernity ambiance and an ample variety to select from. If Barista is crowded, one turns to Cafe Turtle. Wi-fi access is available in these places along with soft music and trendy customers, whose snazzy mobile telephones rest silently on clean little tables. Connectivity is another facet of the global search for fulfillment.
In Khan Market cafes, one reminisces about similar haunts in Lahore. The MM Alam Road there is now a bustling venue for stylish cafes and restaurants that are popular hangouts for the youth defying the silly stereotypes of Pakistan. Men and women converse in their designer jeans about the world, quite unaware of the residual violence of the war on terror on the Pak-Afghan border. The Coffee & Tea Company is hugely popular. Another joint, Massom, a pancake lounge, sells mouth-watering desserts with coffee brews and plays cool music as one plunges into leather sofas to chill. Places such as Cafe Zouk, Hobb-Nobbs, Jamin Java continue to lure the hip Lahorites.
Since globalisation's onslaught on Pakistan, Lahore's traditional love for eating out has transformed into a fusion culture bonanza. The Hot Spot Cafe, Little Italy, Cafe Aylanto and The Dish have emerged as havens of cross-continental culinary blending. Young women drive alone to meet up with friends at these places; and hordes of teens are seen flocking to the Pizza Huts, McDonalds and Kentucky Fried Chicken outlets.
While the affluent have these arenas, the underclass youth, both in Lahore and Delhi, finds its own recreational spaces in Carom and Snooker clubs, sleazy internet cafes with loads of porn, the weekly trips to parks; and the occasional sojourns to police lock ups. Life goes on. Globalization has something to offer to everyone.
15Apr/084
This world without Dr. Annemarie Schimmel
Last year, I came across a Charles Homer Haskins lecture that Dr Annemarie Schimmel delivered in 1993. Aside from the amazing events and milestones of her life, what struck me was her immersion in an infinite 'learning' cycle. I am reproducing some lines from the lecture and a dazzling poem of hers below. Dr Schimmel left this world in 2003 for another voyage. As an extra-ordinary scholar (over 150 publications to her credit), a Rumi disciple and an odd Sufi herself, the world is not the same place without her.
However, her erudite and passionate writings will continue to warm our hearts. Sang-i-Meel Publishers (http://www.sang-e-meel.com/) in Pakistan have done a huge favour by re-printing selected titles for the Pakistani audience.
14Apr/0815
A poem of love and longing by Parveen Shakir
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
10Apr/0816
Stop demonising China
Globally, the Tibet issue has been blown beyond belief by the media. I am compelled to ask that over one million civilians are dead in Iraq for no reason - no weapons of mass destruction and no chemical weapon stockpiles have been discovered - there is a stench of corpses and ashes everywhere. A civilisation has been destroyed, ruined. Has anyone inquired about this barbaric conduct of the so-called "civilised" West?
Has anyone questioned why all laws, rights, Geneva conventions are being violated at the Guantanamo Bay; and why there is a genocide of sorts underway in Afghanistan.
7Apr/081
Jahane Rumi was down
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.
23Mar/0829
My travels to Delhi
Finally, I wrote a piece on Delhi ......
Delhi's present day chaos cannot belittle its grand past, which created a civilisation and shaped the contours of Indo-Muslim identity
When travels come, they come in battalions. Such has been the trajectory of my recent sojourns to Delhi. Travel to India can be, at best, random and left to a game of chance, given how the officialdom on both sides of the border ensures that people don't cross real and imagined boundaries. Coincidence, or as my less rational side would say, the calling of the Delhi and Ajmer Saints, enabled me to land in Delhi twice in less than three months.
My most recent visit is in some measure courtesy of TFT. My obituary on Urdu's towering writer Qurratulain Hyder in TFT last August was read by the immensely talented Rakshanda Jalil, media coordinator at Jamia Millia Islamia. A few months later she sent me an invitation to talk and present a paper at a seminar on the legacy of Qurratulain Hyder. There was no way that I could have refused this invite. Ms Hyder is my all time favourite writer; Delhi, an incomparable city to visit; and above all the opportunity to explore Jamia, a historical seat of learning associated with luminaries such as Maulana Azad and Dr Zakir Hussain could not be missed.
Delhi is not an ordinary South Asian metropolis. Its present day chaos cannot belittle its grand past, which created a civilisation and shaped the contours of Indo-Muslim identity, nourished the Urdu language, produced the finest verse in Hindustani and Urdu and fashioned a fabulous architectural legacy. This is why Delhi fascinates me endlessly. Each time I visit, I find a mohallah of the old dilli that concerns an important event or personality. Even better, another hitherto unknown monument is introduced to me; it is like a newly discovered continuation of an enjoyable book. One has only to casually drive around the city to find that it is dotted with monuments. I cannot complain that they are neglected in India; considering that Pakistan's mighty administrators erect Shaminaas on Mughal monuments for personal parties, how can one grumble about the infidel neighbours!
21Mar/084
A few gems from Muhammad (pbuh)
 On the blessed day of birth of our beloved Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), I am posting some of his sayings as we know them through Hadith. The reason why I like the selection was that these words evoke his humanity - as a counterpoint to the deification done by some Muslims and vilification done by those who think that Crusades are not over.
I have always adhered to the belief that the Prophet was sent as a ‘Blessing for all Mankind’ - Rehmat ul lil Alimeen -and therefore no distinction could be made between one individual and another on the basis of religion, caste, colour and creed. The Prophet never made a distinction and nor should we. I am reminded of his prayer: ‘Oh God! I bear witness that all Thy creatures are brothers ’ (quoted in the Sunnan-i-Abu Da’ud).
9Mar/083
Utopia for me- Pieces of my heart
My piece published in the News on Sunday yesterday -
Karta hun jama phir jigare lakht lakht ko (I seek to gather the scattered pieces of my heart)
Not long ago, say two decades ago, we the Zia"s children yearned for a country that treaded the Malaysian path for prosperity; and somehow were to transform a tolerant, inclusive society. Such were the dizzying dreams. We wanted the Hudood laws to vanish, the witch-hunt under the blasphemy laws to end and sectarian-ethnic monsters buried. We were inspired by the likes of Mohtarama, for some the charitable cricketer appeared the redeemer. The road to utopia also emerged when a bus took off from the other side of the border and landed in Lahore. The brothers Sharifov became new faces of a moderate, booming Pakistan. Mr. Vajpayee"s chant on the ancient roads of Lahore, "ab jang nahee ho gi" was enough to willingly suspend our disbelief. For many a precious day, we forgot the corruption stories, the political squabbles and incompetence all around.
And then the utopia signs dwindled as the battles on the white peaks of Kargil turned red, a VVIP plane hijacked re-invoking the sorry state of martial rule. We could not live without the dream however. So the new goals -- accountability, devolution and economic miracles -- weaved a new chador of delusions. Like that mythical chador, this new age of globalised Pakistan made reality invisible. We had technocratic solutions spun once again and the opening up of imperial coffers gave us a false sense of moving towards the dream-path.
Yet again, the ideal was snatched and smashed as the myriad myths of unequal development started exploding with imported and local bombs.
This time my utopia seems painfully distant, blurred. I have forgotten what it was. It slipped from the vision when the suicide bombers started visiting the idyllic Islamabad. I now suffer from a mild amnesia. I don"t know what I hoped for in those naive, uninformed days when Faiz"s Hum dekhain ge outlined its contours; and the daagh daagh ujala was destined to transform into sheer resplendence of a vibrant society future.
How do I gather the slipping grains of what was the cherished utopia. I had heard that human memory vistas theoretically are seamless and clear. But that vision of those vast green fields is now blood-stained. Suicide bombers are omnipresent and my dear friend in Waziristan tells me that the queue is long and restive. The streets of Islamabad, Lahore, and Karachi are potted with excess blood choking the civilization arteries.
3Mar/0817
Bulleh Shah and Nukta – In a dot the whole mystery is solved
Nukta is difficult to decipher -My personal interpretation has to do with the nukta of Being - like the letter Alif that is Single and a Whole. So we, the created are not different from the Creator. We the lovers and not separate from the Beloved. It is this unity of being and existence that is one and can be reduced to one little nukta - a dot - that has all the answers and comforts we spend our lifetimes attaining.
The Point or Dot is the starting point of anything or everthing.The Dot explodes with Big Bang. And becomes universe. the explosion’s effects are dynamics. The Universe continues to expand. In this universe there are microcosms the earth. man his spirit, etc… All emanates from one point.
“aik nokthe vich gul mukdeeâ€â€™ -Here is a translation by Suman
At this one point, all talk ends.
Hold tight to this point, forget your calculations,
Leave the miserable state of unbelief,
Do not torment yourself with the fear of death and hell,
For these are imaginary fears.
Only into such a house will truth the enter.
At this one point, all talk ends.
For no reason you abrade your forehead on the ground,
You display your reverence at the mehraab,
You recite the kalma to impress a listener,
But knowledge does not enter your heart.
Can the truth stay hidden?
At this one point, all talk ends.
Many return from Mecca as hajjis,
With blue shawls across their shoulders.
They profit from Hajj ,
Who can admire such behavior?
Can the truth stay hidden?
At this one point, all talk ends.
Some withdraw to the forest,
Eat a single grain a day.
They exhaust their bodies foolishly,
And return home in bad shape,
Their life sucked dry with useless fasting and prayer.
At this one point, all talk ends.
Hold fast to your murshid,
Become a devotee of all creation,
Intoxicated, carefree,
Without desire, indifferent to the world,
Let your heart be fully clean.
Says Bulha, can the truth then be stopped?
At this one point, all talk ends.
It has many layers of meaning and can be read in more than one way. On one point the matter ends. (Muzaffar Ghaffar); In a dot the whole mystery is solved (Saeed Ahmad); It’s all in one contained ( K S Duggal);Wisdom is contained in a single point!( J R Puri)
28Feb/087
A personal God?
Found this post on a web-list:
The "Creator" (according to a saying of the Prophet)
says:"I AM for you, what you think of Me"
The more I contemplate about this saying the more I
get convinced that each one of us `creat` a unique
"Creator" for ourselves which is according to our
specific understanding of "Him". However, "He" is NOT
what each one of us think Him to be as mentioned by
Him in Quran - "And there is NOTHING that can be
compared with Him" (Verse:5 Chapter112)The other saying of the Prophet is also extremely
meaningful - "the one who knows himself knows HIS
Lord". A friend opened a new window in my thought process
by pointing out to the last part of the saying of the
Prophet i.e. `knows HIS Lord`. Here, the
hadith does not mention `knows THE Lord` instead it
says `knows HIS Lord` which `personalises the matter.
Hence, personal understanding of the `Creator` is
different for each person. So, each
one of us has a `personal God or no God`.
Courtesy Altaf at Thinking People
21Feb/0811
Raza Rumi was in Delhi
A budding writer from Lahore visits the city of his beloved author.
I was [pleasantly -why lie] surprised this morning to discover a story on yours truly with the byline -Raza Rumi, A Pakistani About Town. It is a well written piece - not because that it concerns me but it sort of collates the various things I said and did during my recent visit and twists them into an engaging narrative. Never mind the less flattering description as a "cliched tourist". My delusions about being a traveller were sort of questioned.
I still have to write about that visit earlier this month when I stayed at the Jamia Millia Islamia to attend a seminar on Qurratulain Hyder, the towering Urdu littérateur. During this visit, I met a number of interesting people and participated in some lively sessions that brought me much closer to the intellectual core of Delhi. My friend Mayank Austen Soofi, whom I finally saw after all the blog exchanges, attended the seminar at Jamia and later accompanied me to the Nizamuddin dergah. Of course Sadia Dehlvi was there as always - walking me through the chaotic moods of Delhi.
All I can say is that one has to be careful with bloggers and journos. Who knows when mundane conversations turn into eloquent posts and stories, only to unexpectedly appear in your inbox a few days later.
When I get my act together I will write about what I had to say about Qurratulain Hyder's dual belonging.
While I continue to overcome my indolence, please read this accountby The Delhi Walla.
18Feb/080
Kosova is finally independent
The ultimate frustration of not being able to vote, sitting miles away from home, was somewhat compensated by the moving images of the Kosovo's declaration of independence.
I have lived and worked in Kosovo for a couple years - and it was a delightful experience despite the after effects of war and tragedies. Independence from Serbia is something that runs through the Kosovar collective consciousness and defines the large, attainable dream.
20Jan/087
A few notes on the 10th of Muharram
God's wisdom is beyond comprehension.
The 10th of Muharram is simultaneously the most celebrated day in the Islamic Calendar, and simultaneously the most sorrowful day of the Islamic Calendar.
It celebrates the day that God saved the Prophet Moses -- and his people from the clutches of the Pharaoh.
It mourns the day that God allowed the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad -- and his people to be slaughtered by the clutches of Yazid.
6Jan/087
Travels and tears – Adieu Benazir Bhutto
This blogger has been travelling since the last two weeks: visiting the various Sufi shrines in India and meeting up old and new friends. And, after years of silence, my inner music found a voice. But the gods had other plans.
Since the 27th of that wretched December, everything has been overshadowed by the ghastly murder of Pakistan's best known and perhaps the only national leader.
Recent Comments
- Ranbir Kaleka on Bulleh Shah and Nukta – In a dot the whole mystery is solved
- uconnect_user on Karachi Literary Festival
- dastagir on Imam Hussain: The Beloved of the Beloved
- Bloggers Pakistan - Pakistani Blog Aggregator on A red card for the Secular Indian Muslim
- aamir on Imam Hussain: The Beloved of the Beloved
- Javeed ahmad on The Destruction of Holy Sites in Mecca & Medina – Destroying Islamic Heritage
- aamir on Shah Ast Hussain
- dastagir on A red card for the Secular Indian Muslim
- The Joy of Used Books in Lahore « Lahore Nama on Rumi – Guest House
- POET OF MINUTES**: Empty on Abr mi barad-o man shovm-e az yar-e judaa (The cloud weeps…)
Recent Posts
- I am a child of love
- A red card for the Secular Indian Muslim
- Abr mi barad-o man shovm-e az yar-e judaa (The cloud weeps…)
- Karachi Literary Festival
- the two insomnias
- Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan – Man Kunto Maula
- Rumi – Guest House
- Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Peter Gabriel- Signal to noise
- Pak Nobel laureate’s Ahmedi status hurdle for documentary
- Old Nusrat recordings dressed up in dub reggae beats
- Allah Hoo by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
- Lovers have nothing to do with existence
- Support the documentary on Dr Abdus Salam
- In memoriam – Asim Butt (1978-2010)
- Kaifi & I
Categories at Jahane Rumi
- 'Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan' (1)
- Afghanistan (10)
- All My Posts (922)
- Arts & Culture (341)
- Bangladesh (12)
- Blog Babble (70)
- books (72)
- Buddhist (7)
- business and economy (4)
- Central Asia (5)
- China (3)
- Cinema (19)
- Culture (4)
- development (2)
- diaspora (7)
- education (7)
- Egypt (3)
- Environment (4)
- Extremism (1)
- Faiz (2)
- fiction (3)
- folklore (3)
- fundamentalism (24)
- Ghalib (2)
- Globalization (26)
- governance (8)
- Guest Writer (32)
- Health (2)
- heritage (83)
- History (110)
- human rights (17)
- humour (1)
- India (131)
- India-Pakistan History (150)
- Indo Pak peace (53)
- Indus (3)
- Iran (10)
- Iraq (3)
- Islam (98)
- Islamophobia (46)
- Journalism (47)
- Karachi (7)
- Knowledge (3)
- Kosovo (1)
- Lahore (47)
- Law (1)
- Left (1)
- Loss (21)
- Love (52)
- Malaysia (3)
- media (40)
- Middle East (13)
- Motivated (1)
- Mughal (22)
- Music (46)
- My paintings (9)
- My poems (1)
- Nature (4)
- new writers (2)
- NWFP (3)
- On Pakistan (275)
- Pakistan (31)
- Pakistani Art (53)
- Pakistani Literature (20)
- Partition (10)
- Peace (30)
- Personal (213)
- Photo stories (67)
- Poetry (269)
- Politics (141)
- Poverty (5)
- published in DAWN (3)
- Published in Himal Magazine (4)
- Published in HT (3)
- Published in The Friday Times (79)
- Published in the NEWS (31)
- Punjab (48)
- Punjabi (2)
- qawwali (2)
- Random musings (139)
- Religion (91)
- Research (6)
- Rumi (148)
- SAARC (3)
- science (4)
- Sindh (21)
- Soul (36)
- South Asian Art (93)
- South Asian Literature (180)
- SouthAsia (9)
- Sport (5)
- stuckism (1)
- Sufi poetry (244)
- Sufism (186)
- Technology (4)
- terrorism (12)
- theatre (2)
- Tragic (26)
- Translations (21)
- Travel (51)
- Turkey (5)
- Uncategorized (83)
- Urdu (103)
- Urdu Literature (78)
- video (24)
- War (37)
- women (2)
- World Artists (53)
- World Literature (127)
- World Writers (131)
- Sufism and Sufi poetry (25)
Posts Archive
Raza Rumi @ flickr
- Asim Butt's mural for T2F, Karachi
- T2F remembers Asim Butt
- Haris Gazdar at the memorial
- Asim's friends will always miss him
- George recites his poem
- Sabeen speaking about Asim Butt
- In attendance -
- The tribute to Asim Butt
- Asim's picture published by GT
- Another mural for The Second Floor-Asim Butt
Pak Tea House
- Understanding Islamic Revival In Its Proper Context
- DANYAL MUEENUDDIN WINS
- Karachi Literary Festival
- Pakistan, the Lost Generation
- Now India and Pakistan Can Get Down to Business
- So What Is PML-N Going To Do About This?
- Never A Lamentation
- Wake up Punjab
- Zardari signs 2 laws aimed at protecting working class
- “Hakeem” Zaid Hamid
Development Industry
- Learn from the UK. Open up data sources in South Asia
- Kiran Bir Sethi teaches kids to take charge
- State of research in Pakistan…
- Reforming Pakistan Civil Service
- Pakistan – Restructuring of PSEs
- Newinpk
- PAKISTAN: Reinventing microfinance
- Dissent as Democracy
- Pakistan 4th on regional list of adult illiterates
- International Development Law Organization on Davos
World music on NPR
- Umm Kulthum: 'The Lady' Of Cairo
- Los Amigos Invisibles: A 'Commercial' Breakthrough
- The Thistle And Shamrock: Welsh Roots
- SXSW 2010 Preview
- Elis Regina: The Feeling Between The Notes
- Omara Portuondo: Tiny Desk Concert
- The Chieftains And Ry Cooder Tell 'San Patricio' History
Tags
art
book
Delhi
Divine
Extremism
ghazal
God
History
India
Islam
Lahore
literature
Love
Mughal
Music
Muslim
Muslims
mystic
mystical
NWFP
painting
Pakistan
Partition
poem
poet
Poetry
Punjab
Punjabi
Religion
Rumi
Saint
Shah
Sindh
South Asia
SouthAsia
state
sufi
Sufism
Taliban
terror
terrorism
translation
Urdu
violence
War
- West Bengal in turmoil – end of an era? - 2 emails
- Imam Hussain: The Beloved of the Beloved - 1 email
- Shah Ast Hussain - 1 email
- Holi has a Muslim History too - 1 email
- On Bhagat Singh, his vision and Jinnah’s support for his struggle - 1 email
- Voices of the oppressed – Dalit literature - 1 email
Pages
- “Man-Bitten” Ghalib: introducing himself
- “Seeds of peace on cricket field”
- ‘Author’s Plea’- Foreword of Aag ka Dariya by Qurutul-ain-Haider
- ‘O City of Lights’ by Khalid Hasan – A book review
- About Thumri
- Adieu Naguib Mahfouz
- adsense sample
- Amrita Pritam is no more 2/6
- Amrita Sher Gil’s Lahore
- An Essay on Nizamuddin by Marta Franceschini
- Basant Moods – Lahore and Beyond
- Beautiful Bird
- Bulleh Shah and Rumi 2/5
- Contact
- Dhaka by degrees
- Dhaka by Degrees – TFT
- Documents Archive
- “Iraq’s four-year looting frenzy, the allies have become the vandals”
- “step into the tavern of ruins..”
- A little more recogniton..
- A Little poem
- A recent Book on Faiz Ahmed Faiz
- Against Forgetting and No Poem is Mine
- Another accidental painting
- Fresh translations of Faiz
- Glimpses of nineteenth century Iran
- Go not without me
- Hope – A poem by Ayesha Salman
- How Art made the World
- How the British Raj took roots in India
- I finally moved here – “You lack a foot to travel?”
- Little Flute, Why So Proud?
- Master strokes
- Mother Goddess – Indus Valley
- Murree Ghosts – my recent painting
- Music Master
- My Journey (Mera Safar): Ali Sardar Jafri
- New paintings inspired by the golden Bengal
- New translations of Parveen Shakir
- No Tolerance for Richistans – Obscene Wealth is not victimless!
- Ominous shadows
- Pakistani media – an alternative view
- Qurratulain Hyder
- Sonargaon – A poem by HUR
- Story of a Painting – Mehrgarh, Indus and Ghalib
- Sufi Zikr – inspiration for a painting
- The rescued letter of Mahatama Gandhi
- Waves of anger and fear…
- Welcome Hatshepsut
- What is arrogance?
- Faiz translated by Vikram Seth
- Faiz translations (by Rehan)
- Femme Feryal
- Halaku, when you will come to Baghdad this time…
- I found Roses in Konya… 2/3
- I found Roses in Konya… 3/3
- I will meet you yet again – Amrita Pritam
- Ideology of intolerance
- Images from Data Saheb’s Shrine
- Images from Mahboob Ali
- Jal gaya tha ik roshniyon ka shaher
- Kafka Country – published in the Friday Times
- Kafka Country published in the Friday Times
- Links
- More of Bulleh Shah – keep swooning
- Mughal Princess Zebunnissa
- Muhammad’s Sword
- Muslim Bloggers from India
- On ‘The Great War for Civilisation’
- On Qurratulain Hyder –
- On Vidya Rao
- Open the Door
- Peace to Beirut with all my heart… 2/3
- Petal to Petal …..More of Parveen Shakir
- Qasmi – Urdu literature mourns a giant 2/4
- Qasmi, Literary Fueds and National Neglect
- Rare objects discovery points to ruins treasure
- Raza Rumi
- Revisiting Kabir – the Weaver, the Myth, the Master
- Sadequain 20 years later
- Shared visions: Khushwant Singh and Fahmida Riaz 2/2
- Standing Alone in Mecca (book review)
- Surveys show that Pakistanis (and Muslims) reject “terrorism”
- Teray Ishq Nachaya – Bulleh Shah – full text
- The Lost Jewel – Rediscovering Hazrat Ali’s Letter
- The roar of Rumi – 800 years on
- The Sultan of Hearts – Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya
- This world without Dr. Schimmel… 2/3
- Tum bilkul hum jaisey nikley
- Ustad Bismillah Khan is no more
- Web resources on Qurrutalain Hyder
- Why I love Pakistan? Top 5 reasons
- Darwin and the grand unity of life
- Khusrau: The shadow of power
