Showing posts with label Bollywood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bollywood. Show all posts

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Lambi Judaai...

Bichhdey abhi to hum, bas kal parso,
Jiyoongi main kaisey, is haal mein barson?
Maut na aayi, teri yaad kyon aayi,
Haaye, lambi judaai...

- Anand Bakshi, 'Hero', 1983





Roughly translated as:

We have been seperated just by a day or two,
How am I going to go on this way for years?
Death doesn't come; why, instead, do these memories of you?
Oh, this long seperation!

Saturday, April 03, 2010

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है
देखना है ज़ोर कितना बाज़ुए कातिल में है

वक्त आने दे बता देंगे तुझे ए आसमान
हम अभी से क्या बतायें क्या हमारे दिल में है

(ऐ वतन,) करता नहीं क्यूँ दूसरा कुछ बातचीत
देखता हूँ मैं जिसे वो चुप तेरी महफ़िल में है

रहबरे राहे मुहब्बत, रह न जाना राह में
लज्जते-सेहरा न वर्दी दूरिए-मंजिल में है

अब न अगले वलवले हैं और न अरमानों की भीड़
एक मिट जाने की हसरत अब दिले-बिस्मिल में है

ए शहीद-ए-मुल्क-ओ-मिल्लत मैं तेरे ऊपर निसार
अब तेरी हिम्मत का चरचा गैर की महफ़िल में है

खैंच कर लायी है सब को कत्ल होने की उम्मीद
आशिकों का आज जमघट कूचा-ए-कातिल में है

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है
देखना है ज़ोर कितना बाज़ुए कातिल में है

(बिस्मिल आजिमाबादी)

Monday, September 08, 2008

3rd July 2008 - London Diary

At about 1.45 am, I reached home (as in the new home), after almost two hours drive from the airport. It's in 3rd zone, a place in East London called Manor Park. Central London, where my college (is) in 1st zone.

Neither the interiors nor the exteriors are pretty much different from what it was in Doha. Every little thing is exactly the same. Only notable difference is the British architecture and the low height fences. Much similar to Kerala - model of roofing - tiles and all.

And at 2 am, I call my father. He greets the phone with a 'good morning' and I tell him, 'Acha, I am here... finally! Safe and sound!!'. Then I sink into the bed made out for me. Its early morning back home.

7 a.m. The following morning. Its been at least more than an hour since I woke up. And I'm still in the bed staring at the false ceiling.

I'll not be able to join the April batch. I will have to wait for the classes to begin on the July 28th. That's the next batch. As of now they have offered to help me find a job. I can't work for more than 20 hours, legally.

7.45 am. I finally drag myself out of my bed. Half of the house is sleeping still.

I tiptoe to the living room. Huge, heavily cushioned sofas have kind of filled up the whole space. I check out the DVDs lying on the floor. 'Shaurya', the latest offering on the Indian Army from the Bollywood. I've been wanting to watch this one since the last two months. And well, here it is now.

Looking out from the window I feel just the same like in Doha. Only there are'n't big fort-like walls around. There are very small (knee-height) fences instead. The way cars are parked and the villas constructed very close to each other, looks pretty much the same.

Every now and then I hear trains passing by. The nearest railway station, Manor Park station, is just a block away. It's mid summer here. Yet, it's quite cold out here. Time and again, it keeps drizzling. Suddenly, I miss her.

I take out my phone and call her, and find a little comfort from across the world.