Wishes for a Joyous & Peaceful 2016

Always a night from old to new!
Night and the healing balm of sleep!
Each morn is New Year's morn come true,
Morn of a festival to keep. 

Only a night from old to new;
Only a sleep from night to morn.
The new is but the old come true;
Each sunrise sees a new year born. 

~ Helen Hunt Jackson

What a grand day! What a time for celebration! We

begin again today! We turn the page!

And so, let go of all that you do not wish to carry with you any further:

Any fear, any sadness, any anger, any resentment, any

disappointment, any lament...

let it all go. 

And now, 

using the specialness of this day as a springboard, 

let's get on with Life! 

~ Neale Donald Walsch

A Flower unblown: a Book unread:
  A Tree with fruit unharvested: A Path untrod: a House whose rooms
    Lack yet the heart's divine perfumes:
      A Landscape whose wide border lies
        In silent shade 'neath silent skies:
          A wondrous Fountain yet unsealed:
            A Casket with its gifts concealed:--
              This is the Year that for you waits
                Beyond Tomorrow's mystic gates.

~ Horatio Nelson Powers

A Starry Starry Night...

To be a star, you must shine your own light, walk your own path, and do not worry about the darkness, for that is when stars shine brightest.

~ Unknown

 

Taj Mahal - Mohabbat aur Talkhiyaan

ताजमहल

~ शकील बदायुनी                                                               ~ साहिर लुधियानवी 

ताज वो शमा है, उल्फ़त के सनमखाने की जिसके परवानो में मुफ़लीस भी हैं,ज़रदार भी हैं संगेमरमर में समाये हुये ख्वाबों की कसम मरहले प्यार के आसान भी दुश्वार भी हैं दिल को एक जोश इरादों को जवानी दी हैं

अनगिनत  लोगोंने  दुनिया  में  मोहब्बत की है कौन  कहता  है  के  सादिक़ ना थे जज़बे  उनके लेकिन  उनके  लिए  तश 'हीर  का  सामान  नहीं क्युंके वो लोग भी अपनी ही तरह  मुफलिस  थे मेरे  महबूब  कहीं  और  मिला  कर  मुझसे

ताज एक ज़िंदा तसव्वुर हैं किसी शायर का इसका अफ़साना हक़ीकत के सिवा कुछ भी नही इस के आगोश में आकर ये गुमा होता हैं जिंदगी जैसे मोहब्बत के सिवा कुछ भी नही ताज ने प्यार के मौजों को रवानी दी हैं

मेरी  महबूब  उन्हें  भी  तो  मोहब्बत  होगी जिन की रानाई ने  बख्शी है इसे शक्ल-ऐ-जमील उनके प्यार के मक़ाबिर रहे बे - नाम  ओ  नमूद आज  तक  उनपे  जलाई  ना  किसी  ने  क़ंदील मेरे  महबूब  कहीं  और  मिला  कर  मुझसे

ये हसीन रात ये महकी हुई पुरनूर फज़ा हो इजाज़त तो ये दिल इश्क का इज़हार करें इश्क इन्सान को इन्सान बना देता हैं किसकी हिम्मत हैं मोहब्बत से जो इन्कार करे आज तकदीर ने ये रात सुहानी दी हैं

ये चमनज़ार, ये जमना का कनारा, ये महल ये मुनक़क़श दर-ओ-दीवार, ये मेहराब, ये ताक़ एक  शहंशाह  ने  दौलत  का  सहारा  लेकर हम ग़रीबों की मोहब्बत का उड़ाया है  मज़ाक़ मेरे  महबूब  कहीं  और  मिला  कर  मुझसे

Dopahar Ki Dhoop Men..

A Noon Song
~Henry Van Dyke

There are songs for the morning and songs for the night,
For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon;
But who will give praise to the fulness of light,
And sing us a song of the glory of noon?



Oh, the high noon, the clear noon,
The noon with golden crest;
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns 
With his face to the way of the west!




How swiftly he rose in the dawn of his strength;
How slowly he crept as the morning wore by;
Ah, steep was the climbing that led him at length
To the height of his throne in the wide summer sky. 



Oh, the long toil, the slow toil,
The toil that may not rest,
Till the sun looks down from his journey's crown,
To the wonderful way of the west! 




Then a quietness falls over meadow and hill,
The wings of the wind in the forest are furled,
The river runs softly, the birds are all still,
The workers are resting all over the world. 



Oh, the good hour, the kind hour,
The hour that calms the breast!
Little inn half-way on the road of the day,
Where it follows the turn to the west! 



There's a plentiful feast in the maple-tree shade,
The lilt of a song to an old-fashioned tune,
The talk of a friend, or the kiss of a maid,
To sweeten the cup that we drink to the noon. 



Oh, the deep noon, the full noon,
Of all the day the best!
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
To his home by the way of the west.

Wishing you Peace & Happiness...forever!

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, 
and remember what peace there may be in silence.



Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; 
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs; 
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; Many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.




Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be critical about love; 
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment 
it is as perennial as the grass.

You are a child of the universe, 
no less than the trees and the stars; 
you have a right to be here. 
And whether or not it is clear to you, 
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.



Therefore be at peace with God, 
whatever you conceive Him to be, 
and whatever your labors and aspirations, 
in the noisy confusion of life 
keep peace with your soul.



With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, 
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
(~ extracts from Desidarata - by Max Ehrmann)

Ek Aag Ka Dariya Hai...

Fireworks                    
~ by Amy Lowell

You hate me and I hate you,

And we are so polite, we two!

But whenever I see you, I burst apart

And scatter the sky with my blazing heart.

In spits and sparkles in stars and balls,

 Buds into roses— and flares, and falls.

Scarlet buttons, and pale green disks,

Silver spirals and asterisks,

Shoot and tremble in a mist

Peppered with mauve and amethyst.

I shine in the window and light up the trees,

And all because I hate you, if you please.

And when you meet me, you rend asunder

And go up in a flaming wonder

Of saffron cubes, and crimson moons,

And wheels all amaranths and maroons.

Golden lozenges and spades,

Arrows of malachites and jades,

Patens of copper, azure sheaves.

As you mount, you flash in the glossy leaves.

Such fireworks as we make, we two!

Because you hate me and I hate you.

Hope...

“Hope” is the thing with feathers —
That perches in the soul —
And sings the tune without the words —
And never stops — at all —

And sweetest — in the Gale — is heard —
And sore must be the storm —
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm —

I've heard it in the chillest land —
And on the strangest Sea —
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb — of Me.
~ Emily Dickinson

Shaam Dhale...The Prelude

Surprised seeing some prose here? or is the right word, Alarmed?

Pray, do not be either, because this is just a forward to a particular series within this blog that I am about to start off over here - about the Sunsets.

One of the earliest memories of my childhood has me travelling in a Tonga with my grandmother on a rural-ish road somewhere near Kota, while the evening colours of a setting Sun provided a perfect sepia hue to the moment. Though there is some kind of a foot injury also associated with this, but kyunki hum filmi hain, this moment of flashback too somehow, also has a song associated to it somehow.

Despite my own doubts about the veracity of some parts of this memory, I think this is where my association and fascination with sunsets began.  To me somehow the sky, despite being so bright throughout the day, is never as attractive, dramatic and comfortable as it looks at twilight.  Over the years, at various stages of life, the sunset has always been a constant friend to me, a source of comfort in turbulent moments, a silent companion for my melancholy, adding colour to my romance and has always been there to shar my joyous moments.  

Over the last few years, with photography becoming a hobby & passion, the Sunset has always been one of the constant themes of my images. Be it a vacation with the family, a walk or just birding around, I have been striving to capture the various moods of a setting sun across all seasons. I think it is time for me to share this fascination of mine with all those who have been appreciating my love for nature & literature.

So I request your indulgence as I bring to you a regular montage, of moments, captured or yet to be captured by me, of twilight and sunsets- interspersed with some of the best verses, written over the centuries, by masters of words who, like me, were also enamored by the beauty of a Sunset – but with a difference – they could express it better! I am sure that the days to come, or rather evenings, will give me enough opportunities to bring to you more hues & shades that the nature is able to create as the Sun flows down the horizon.

Before bringing to you the first image, however, I would like to go back to the memory I wrote about – or rather specifically to the song that is somehow associated with that memory - a lovely composition with some wonderful poetry of Anand Bakshi from a movie - Pushpanjali:

Kabhi ruke kabhi chale Radha chori chori
Piya kahe aa, jiya kahe nahi gori
Sham dhale Jamuna kinare kinare
Aaja Radhe aaja tohe Shyam pukare

Song of Radha, The Milkmaid

I carried my curds to the Mathura fair..

How softly the heifers were lowing…

I wanted to cry, “Who will buy

The curds that is white as the clouds in the sky

When the breezes of Shravan are blowing?”

But my heart was so full of your beauty, Beloved,

They laughed as I cried without knowing:

Govinda! Govinda!

Govinda! Govinda!

How softly the river was flowing!

I carried the pots to the Mathura tide…

How gaily the rowers were rowing!

My comrades called, “Ho! Let us dance, let us sing

And wear saffron garments to welcome the spring.

And pluck the new buds that are blowing.”

But my heart was so full of your music, Beloved,

They mocked when I cried without knowing:

Govinda! Govinda!

Govinda! Govinda!

How gaily the river was flowing!

 

I carried my gifts to the Mathura shrine…

How brightly the torches were glowing!

I folded my hands at the altars to pray

“O shining ones guard us by night and by day”

- And loudly the conch shells were blowing.

But my heart was so lost in your worship, Beloved,

They were wroth when I cried without knowing:

Govinda! Govinda!

Govinda! Govinda!

How bright the river was flowing!

~  Sarojini Naidu

A Living Flash of Light..

Today I saw the dragon-fly 

Come from the wells where he did lie. 

An inner impulse rent the veil 

Of his old husk: from head to tail 

Came out clear plates of sapphire mail. 

He dried his wings: like gauze they grew; 

Thro' crofts and pastures wet with dew 

A living flash of light he flew. 

~ Tennyson