The Hidden Garden by Gopi Narang (top ten ebook reader txt) 📗
- Author: Gopi Narang
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In Muaamlaat-e I’shq, Mir says:
ek sahib se ji laga mera
us ke a’shvon ne dil thaga mera
ibtida mein to y rahi sohbat
naam se un ke thi mujhe ulfat
khuubi un ki jo sab kaha karte
gosh mere udhar raha karte
bakht-e bargashta phir jo yaar hue
ik tarah mujh se ve do-chaar hue
kya kahuun tarz dekhne ki aah
dil jigar se guzar gayi vo nigaah
ek muddat talak y sohbat thi
kabhu ulfat kabhu y kulfat thi
rafta rafta suluuk biich aaya
haat paaon ko apne lagvaaya
gaah be-gaah paaon phailaate
meri aankhon se talve malvaate
chal kar aate the jab kabhi iidhar
paaon rakhte the meri aankhon par
dekhne mein to paae-maali thi
husn se chaal y n khaali thi
hans ke seene p paaon rakh dete
dil mera yuun bhi haath mein lete
kya kahuun kaisa qad-e baala hai
qaalib aarzu mein dhaala hai
ek din farsh par tha mera haath
baatein karte the ve bhi mere saath
paaon se ek ungli mal daali
lutf se dard vo n tha khaali
dard se ki main ne betaabi
dast-e naazuk se der tak daabi
yaad aate hain aise lutf jo ab
guzre hain jaan-e gham-zadah p ghazab
baare kuchh barh gaya hamaara rabt
ho saka phir n do taraf se zabt
vaaste jis ke tha main aavaara
haath aaii mere vo mah-paara
chand roz is tarah rahi sohbat
pyaar ikhlaas raabta ulfat
ho gaaye bakht apne bargashta
phir kiya aasmaan ne sargashta
baat aisi hi ittefaaq pari
k hui sar p furqat aan khari
lagi kahne k maslahat hai y
kitne rozon juda tu mujh se rah
yuun bhi aata hai i’shq mein darpesh
k nishaan-e bala hon ulfat kesh
main uthaaya nahien hai tujh se haath
kurhiyo mat tu hai meri jaan ke saath
is judaaii ka mujh ko bhi gham hai
kya karuun aarzu muqaddam hai
main kahuun kya mujhe n apna hosh
jaise tasviir saamne khaamosh
un se rukhsat hua jo baa’d-e shaam
tiirah dekha jahaan ko har gaam
yuun hua un ke kuuche se aana
jaise hove jahaan se jaana
ab jo ghar mein huun to afsurda sa
chaarpaaii p huun to murda sa
haal dil ka kahuun jo hamdam ho
karuun paighaam kuchh jo mahram ho
ji mein kuchh aaya ro ke beth raha
dil zada chapka ho ke beth raha
yaad kar rouun un ki kaun si baat
kis tarah kaatuun hijr ke auqaat
muddat-e hjir agar tamaam hui
varna apni to sub-h shaam hui2
I fell in love with someone irresistible.
Her coquetry robbed me of my heart.
In the beginning, my association
rested on the love of her name.
Everyone praised her, so fond of her.
I furtively listened to such talk.
Luckily, we became good friends.
This is how we came very close.
How can I describe the way she talked?
Her gaze pierced my heart!
Our association continued for some time.
Sometimes it was love, sometimes vexation.
Slowly, how we behaved became an issue.
I was permitted to touch her hands and feet.
Sometimes, she extended her feet.
She used my eyes to touch her feet.
When she would come to my side,
she placed her feet on my eyes.
We were stepping into ruination.
But there was a pleasure in all this.
Smilingly, she would place her foot on my chest.
She played with my heart.
What can I say about her tall swaying self?
A body moulded by desire!
One day, my hand was on the floor
while she spoke of love with me.
She used her foot to stroke one of my fingers.
That pain was mixed with great pleasure.
With her delicate hand, she kneaded it for long.
When I remember these little delights
terrible things happen to my saddened heart.
Slowly, we got more intimate.
There was a loss of control on both sides.
Something that I was madly in search of
I found that moon-faced beauty, fortunately.
Days passed like this with her.
Love, openness, contact, affection—
suddenly, our luck took a turn for the worse.
The heavens turned our good fortune.
Something surfaced, and we were
struck by the calamity of separation.
She said we need to be prudent.
You have to stay apart for some days.
It happens in love.
You have to get rid of all signs of love.
Though I do not want to leave you.
Do not feel sad; you’re the confidant of my soul.
I will suffer in separation too.
What to do when desire faces an obstruction?
What can I say? I had no control over my senses.
Like facing a picture that has no voice.
The evening I took leave of her,
I saw nothing but darkness in front of me.
I turned from her company
as if I had left my world behind.
I find myself in my house depressed;
I lay lifeless on my bed like a corpse.
I could share the malady of my heart if I had a friend.
I could have a conversation if I had a confidant.
When I remember something, tears come to my eyes.
Heart-broken, I sit silently, dumbstruck.
Of all the charming things about her,
which one should I talk about?
How should I spend these moments of separation?
If I meet her, my suffering might diminish.
I can come back and be counted among the living.
My life was filled with parting from the sweetheart.
Mornings came, and the evenings went by!
In his second masnavi, Khwab o Khayaal,3 Mir describes his traumatic departure from his hometown. The affliction became more severe, and the pain unfathomable. It appears from the nature of the text that it was a serious involvement, a heart-wrenching encounter, and as a result, Mir was forced to leave Agra. Mir talks of the agony of leaving home against his wishes and how miserable he felt. He also reveals what he had concealed in Zikr-e Mir—that this tragic love relationship was the reason for his obsession: the lovely face he saw in the moon and his strange fixation with that image. This masnavi touchingly narrates the details of Mir’s ailment and the treatments on the way to recovery.
chala akbarabaad se jis ghari
dar o baam par chashm-e hasrat pari
k tark-e vatan
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