ai jazbaa-e-dil gar mai.n chaahuu.N har chiiz muqaabil aa jaaye

Behzad Lucknawi

ai jazbaa-e-dil gar mai.n chaahuu.N har chiiz muqaabil aa jaaye
ma.nzil ke liye do gaam chaluu.N aur saamane ma.nzil aa jaaye

ai dil kii Khalish chal yuu.N hii sahii, chalataa to huu.N unakii mahafil me.n
us vaqt mujhe chau.nkaa denaa jab rang pe mahafil aa jaaye

ai rahabar-e-kaamil chalane ko tayyaar to huu.N par yaad rahe
us vaqt mujhe bhaTakaa denaa jab saamane ma.nzil aa jaaye

haa.N yaad mujhe tum kar lenaa aavaaz mujhe tum de lenaa
is raah-e-muhabbat me.n koii darapaish jo mushkil aa jaaye

ab kyuu.N Dhuu.NDhuu vo chashm-e-karam hone de sitam balaa-e-sitam
mai.n chaahataa huu.N ai jazbaa-e-Gam mushkil pas-e-mushkil aa jaaye

is jazb-e-dil ke baare me.n ik mashvaraa tum se letaa huu.N
us vaqt mujhe kyaa laazim hai jab tujh pe meraa dil aa jaaye

ai barq-e-tajalli kyaa tuune mujhako bhii muusaa samajhaa hai
mai.n tuur nahii.n jo jal jaauu.N jo chaahe muqaabil aa jaaye

nuktaachii.N hai Gam-e-dil us ko sunaaye na bane

nuktaachii.N hai Gam-e-dil us ko sunaaye na bane
kyaa bane baat jahaa.N baat banaaye na bane


mai.n bulaataa to huu.N us ko magar ae jazbaa-e-dil
us pe ban jaaye kuchh aisii ki bin aaye na bane

khel samajhaa hai kahii.n chho.D na de, bhuul na jaaye
kaash yuu.N bhii ho ki bin mere sataaye na bane

Gair phirataa hai lie yuu.N tere Khat ko ki agar
koii puuchhe ki ye kyaa hai to chhupaaye na bane

is nazaakat kaa buraa ho vo bhale hai.n to kyaa
haath aaye.n to u.nhe.n haath lagaaye na bane


kah sake kaun ki ye jalvaa_garii kisakii hai
pardaa chho.Daa hai vo usane ki uThaaye na bane


maut kii raah na dekhuu.N ki bin aaye na rahe
tum ko chaahuu.N ki na aao to bulaaye na bane

bojh wo sar pe giraa hai ki uThaaye na uThe
kaam vo aan pa.Daa hai ki banaaye na bane

ishq par zor nahii.n, hai ye vo aatish 'Ghalib'
ki lagaaye na lage aur bujhaaye na bane

yuN chup rahanaa Theek nahiin koii miiThii baat karo

yuN chup rahanaa Theek nahiin koii miiThii baat karo
mor, chakor ,papihaa, koyal sab ko maat karo

saavan to man bagiyaa se bin barase beet gayaa
ras men Duube naGhme kii ab tum barasaat karo

hijr kii ik lambii manzil ko jaanevala huuN
apanii yaadon ke kuchh saaye mere saath karo

main kirnon kii kaliyaaN chunakar sej banaa luuNgaa
tum mukhaDe kaa chaaNd jalaao raushan raat karo

pyar burii shay nahi hai lekin phir bhi yaar "Qateel"
galii-galii taqasiim na tum apane jazabaat karo

Hamary Soch Ke Parwaz Ko Roky Nahi Koi

Hamary Soch Ke Parwaz Ko Roky Nahi Koi
Naye Aflaq Pey Pehra Bitha Kar Kuch Nahi Milta

Koi ik Aadh Sapna Ho Tu Phir Acha Bhi Lagta hai
Hazaron Khawab Ankhon Men Saja Kar Kuch Nahi Milta

Usey Kehna Ke Palkon Per Na Tanky Khawab Ke Jahlar
Samandar Ki Kinary Ghar Bana Kar Kuch Nahi Milta

Ye Acha Hai ke Aapis Ke Bharam Na Totney Payeen
Kabhi Bhi Doston Ko Aazma Kar Kuch Nahi Milta

Faqat Tum Sey Hi Karta Hoon Men Sary Raz Ke Baten
Har Ik Ko Dastan-E-Dil Suna Kar Kuch Nahi Milta

Amal Ki Sokhty Rag Men Zara Sa Khon Shamil Kar
Mery Ham Dam Faqat Bateen Bana Kar Kuch Nahi Milta

mohabbat ki kahani tou musafat hi musafat hai

mohabbat ki kahani tou musafat hi musafat hai
mohabbat ki musafat aur
zaroorat ki musafat mein
numaya farq hota hai
zaroorat ki musafat mein
musafir wapsi k sarey imkan pass rakhta hai
mohabbat ki musafat main palatney ka koi rasta nahin hota
wo sari kashtiyan apni
jala detey hain sahil pay
k na-umeed honey per
paltna bhi ager chahen
tou wapis ja nahin payen
WAHIN GHARQAAB HO JAYEN...

At a Solemn Music

John Milton (1608-1674 / London / England)

At a Solemn Music


Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'n's joy,
Sphere-born harmonious Sisters, Voice and Verse,
Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ
Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce,
And to our high-rais'd fantasy present
That undisturbed Song of pure concent,
Ay sung before that saphire-colour'd throne
To Him that sits thereon
With Saintly shout and solemn Jubilee,
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row
Their loud up-lifted Angel trumpets blow,
And the Cherubic host in thousand choirs
Touch their immortal Harps of golden wires,
With those just Spirits that wear victorious Palms,
Hymns devout and holy Psalms
Singing everlastingly;
That we on Earth with undiscording voice
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportion'd sin
Jarr'd against Nature's chime, and with harsh din
Broke the fair music that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd
In first obedience, and their state of good.
And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long
To His celestial consort us unite,
To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light.

John Milton Light

John Milton

Light
HAIL holy light, ofspring of Heav'n first-born,
Or of th' Eternal Coeternal beam
May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light,
And never but in unapproached light
Dwelt from Eternitie, dwelt then in thee,
Bright effluence of bright essence increate.
Or hear'st thou rather pure Ethereal stream,
Whose Fountain who shall tell? before the Sun,
Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice
Of God, as with a Mantle didst invest
The rising world of waters dark and deep,
Won from the void and formless infinite.
Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,
Escap't the Stygian Pool, though long detain'd
In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight
Through utter and through middle darkness borne
With other notes then to th' Orphean Lyre
I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night,
Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down
The dark descent, and up to reascend,
Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe,
And feel thy sovran vital Lamp; but thou
Revisit'st not these eyes, that rowle in vain
To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;
So thick a drop serene hath quencht thir Orbs,
Or dim suffusion veild. Yet not the more
Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt
Cleer Spring, or shadie Grove, or Sunnie Hill,
Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief
Thee Sion and the flowrie Brooks beneath

That wash thy hallowd feet, and warbling flow,
Nightly I visit: nor somtimes forget
Those other two equal'd with me in Fate,
So were I equal'd with them in renown.
Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides,
And Tiresias and Phineus Prophets old.
Then feed on thoughts, that voluntarie move
Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful Bird
Sings darkling, and in shadiest Covert hid
Tunes her nocturnal Note. Thus with the Year
Seasons return, but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of Ev'n or Morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me, from the chearful waies of men
Cut off, and for the Book of knowledg fair
Presented with a Universal