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Ankhon Mein Ji Mera Hai Idhar Yar Dekhna

ankhon mein ji mera hai idhar yar dekhna
ashiq ka apane akhri didar dekhna

kaisa chaman ke ham se asiron ko mana hai
chak-e-qafas se bag ki diwar dekhna

ankhen churaio na tuk abr-e-bahar se
meri taraf bhi didah-e-khunbar dekhna

ae ham-safar na able ko pahunche chashm-e-tar
laga hai mere paon mein a kar dekhna

hona na char chashm dik uss zulm-paishah se
hoshiyar zinhar khabardar dekhna

sayad dil hai dag-e-judai se rashk-e-bag
tujh ko bhi ho nasib ye gulzar dekhna

gar zamzama yahi hai koi din to hamsafar
is fasl hi mein ham ko giraftar dekhna

bul-bul hamare gul pe na gustakh kar nazar
ho jayega gale ka kahin har dekhna

shayad hamari khak se kuch ho bhi ae nasim
girbal kar ke kucha-e-dildar dekhna

us khush-nigah ke ishq se parhez kijio 'Mir'
jata hai leke ji hi ye azar dekhna

poem by Meer Taqi Meer
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Handles Bermuda

bean bag spokane
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Luggage Canada

b ean bag stoer
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bean bag shells shotgun

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Adrienne Vittadini

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Healthy Back Bag

animated bag of chips
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Trash Bag

1 bag cement mold
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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Fitration Bags

2.5 gallon shopvac bags
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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Where do you search me

Moko Kahan Dhundhere Bande
Mein To Tere Paas Mein
Na Teerath Mein, Na Moorat Mein
Na Ekant Niwas Mein
Na Mandir Mein, Na Masjid Mein
Na Kabe Kailas Mein
Mein To Tere Paas Mein Bande
Mein To Tere Paas Mein
Na Mein Jap Mein, Na Mein Tap Mein
Na Mein Barat Upaas Mein
Na Mein Kiriya Karm Mein Rehta
Nahin Jog Sanyas Mein
Nahin Pran Mein Nahin Pind Mein
Na Brahmand Akas Mein
Na Mein Prakuti Prawar Gufa Mein
Nahin Swasan Ki Swans Mein
Khoji Hoye Turat Mil Jaoon
Ik Pal Ki Talas Mein
Kahet Kabir Suno Bhai Sadho
Mein To Hun Viswas Mein

English Translation:

Where do you search me?
I am with you
Not in pilgrimage, nor in icons
Neither in solitudes
Not in temples, nor in mosques
Neither in Kaba nor in Kailash
I am with you O man
I am with you
Not in prayers, nor in meditation
Neither in fasting
Not in yogic exercises
Neither in renunciation
Neither in the vital force nor in the body
Not even in the ethereal space
Neither in the womb of Nature
Not in the breath of the breath
Seek earnestly and discover
In but a moment of search
Says Kabir, Listen with care
Where your faith is, I am there.

poem by Kabir
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Ye Kaisa Rishta Hai

Ye kaisa rishta hai

Ye kaisa rishta hai
jise na nibha paate hai
Na tood paate hai.
Phir bhi janmo tak
Salamat rahe
Yeh dua karte hai.

Ye kaisa bandhan hai
Jise na yaad karte hai
Na bhul paate hai
Saapno me hi sahi
Sang raho
Yeh tammanna rakhte hai.

Ye kaise lou hai
Jise na jala sakte hai
Na bujha paate hai
Sulagti rahe
Dil me sada
Ye saja lete hai.

Ye kaisa rog hai
Jise na dikha paate hai
Na chiipa paate hai
Dard ko gale se laga
Mann me basaye phirte hai.

Ye kaisa rishta hai

poem by Anjali Kakati
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The Brus Book IX

[The king goes to Inverurie and falls ill]

Now leve we intill the Forest
Douglas that sall bot litill rest
Till the countre deliveryt be
Off Inglis folk and thar powste,
5 And turne we till the noble king
That with the folk off his leding
Towart the Month has tane his wai
Rycht stoutly and intill gud array,
Quhar Alysander Frayser him met
10 And als his broder Symonet
With all the folk thai with thaim had.
The king gud contenance thaim made
That wes rycht blyth off thar cummyne.
Thai tauld the king off the convyne
15 Off Jhone Cumyn erle of Bouchane
That till help him had with him tane
Schyr Jhon Mowbray and other ma,
Schyr David off Brechyn alsua,
With all the folk off thar leding,
20 'And yarnys mar na ony thing
Vengeance off you, schyr king, to tak
For Schyr Jhone the Cumyn his sak
That quhylum in Drumfres wes slayn.'
The king said, 'Sa our Lord me sayn,
25 Ik had gret caus him for to sla,
And sen that thai on hand will ta
Becaus off him to werray me
I sall thole a quhile and se
On quhat wys that thai pruve thar mycht,
30 And giff it fall that thai will fycht
Giff thai assaile we sall defend,
Syne fall eftre quhat God will send.'
Eftre this spek the king in hy
Held straucht his way till Enrowry,
35 And thar him tuk sik a seknes
That put him to full hard distress.
He forbar bath drynk and mete,
His men na medicyne couth get
That ever mycht to the king availe,
40 His force gan him halyly faile
That he mycht nother rid na ga.
Then wyt ye that his men war wa,
For nane wes in that cumpany
That wald haiff bene halff sa sary
45 For till haiff sene his broder ded
Lyand befor him in that steid
As thai war for his seknes,
For all thar confort in him wes.

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poem by John Barbour
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The Brus Book XIV

[Edward Bruce goes to Ireland]

The erle off Carrik Schyr Edward,
That stoutar wes than a libard
And had na will to be in pes,
Thocht that Scotland to litill wes
5 Till his brother and him alsua,
Tharfor to purpos gan he ta
That he off Irland wald be king.
Tharfor he send and had tretyng
With the Irschery off Irland,
10 That in thar leawte tuk on hand
Off all Irland to mak him king
With-thi that he with hard fechting
Mycht ourcum the Inglismen
That in the land war wonnand then,
15 And thai suld help with all thar mycht.
And he that hard thaim mak sic hycht
Intill his hart had gret liking
And with the consent of the king
Gadryt him men off gret bounte
20 And at Ayr syne schippyt he
Intill the neyst moneth of Mai,
Till Irland held he straucht his wai.
He had thar in his cumpany
The Erle Thomas that wes worthi
25 And gud Schyr Philip the Mowbray
That sekyr wes in hard assay,
Schyr Jhone the soullis ane gud knycht
And Schyr Jhone Stewart that wes wycht
The Ramsay als of Ouchterhous
30 That wes wycht and chevalrous
And Schyr Fergus off Ardrossane
And other knychtis mony ane.
In Wolringis Fyrth aryvyt thai
Sauffly but bargan or assay
35 And send thar schippis hame ilkan.
A gret thing have thai undretane
That with sa quhoyne as thai war thar
That war sex thousand men but mar
Schup to werray all Irland,
40 Quhar thai sall se mony thousand
Cum armyt on thaim for to fycht,
But thocht thai quhone war thai war wicht,
And forout drede or effray
In twa bataillis tuk thar way
45 Towart Cragfergus it to se.

[The Scots defeat the lords of Ulster]

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poem by John Barbour
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Gazal Badi Ajeeb hai ye Zindagi in hindi by deepak kumar deep

Badi ajeeb hai ye zindagi,
khushi ek pal ke liye
dukh verson baras ke liye
koi sukh chahta hai is jeevan me
to usse dukhon ki bhari bori hi mil jati hai
jahan foolon ke milne ki aaasha hai
wahan katon ki sej bich jati hai
Badi ajeeb hai ye zindagi.....................

Kuch satya kuch ghooth
Kabhi aasha kabhi nirasha
kabhi sawpno ko pane ki lalasa
inhi me ulagh kar rah gayi hai zindagi
Badi ajeeb hai hai ye zindagi................

Kabhi jati kabhi varn
Kabhi bhasha kabhi dharm
viwadoke ghere me hai aaj ki sanskriti
kaise kahen, kya yahi hai zindagi?
badi ajeeb hai ye zindagi...........

Pyar doge pyar milega
satkar doge samman milega
mehanat se har chij hai sambhav
kam se chori hai dukh ka anubhav
ham jaisa hain sochte nahi hai aisi zindagi?
fier bhi log kahte hain,
badi ajeeb hai ye zindagi.............

Manav jeevan ek baar hai mita
nahi milta hai barambar
har manav se pyar karen
nafrat ko de dutkar
Krodha chod dhairya apnayen
paap chod punya kamayen
ye dharti hai dharam ki
jitni marji fasal ugayen
Ek baar yatan kar dekhen-
Hai khusnasheeb ye zindagi
nahi hai ajeeb ye zindagifir bhi log kahte hai,
badi ajeeb hai ye zindagi.........

poem by Deepak Kumar deep
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Divane

Divane
Hele bir anla ak zamanla
Klar bahara dner gibidir
Var m dnyada akndan baka
Yand derken sner gibidir
Her derdime yar ortam olda
Gkten melekler iner gibidir o zaman
Kar m dnyada bin yl yaansa
Yokluunda cehennem gibidir
Sana yine muhtacm
Gel benim batacm yar
Bana yine sen lazmsn
Gel benim sultanm yar
Ay aman yar sana
Sylemeliyim iimde tutamam yar
Tutamam yar unutamam yar
lm var dnyada
Yeri g deldin yar
Bana geri geldin mi yar
Bana divane diyorlar
Yok artk uslandm yar
Hele bir anla ak zamanla
Klar bahara dner gibidir
Var m dnyada akndan baka
Ak sevdiim ehirler gibidir
Her derdime yar ortam olda
Gkten melekler iner gibidir o zaman
Al akm yar ah ver akn yar
Ak kn doan gneler gibidir

song performed by Yasar
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mann Toh Mann Hai

Mann to mann hai
Ek sawachand panchi
Kaun use kisi bandhan
me bandh paya hai.

Lakh talo me rah kar bhi
uuse kon bandi bana paya hai.
Dekho to uuadan uski
Chand lamho mei
Vo to kitne brahmand
Bhraman kar aaya hai.

Mann to mann hai
Ek sawachand panchi
Kaun use kisi bandhan
me bandh paya hai.

Tan ko to bandh liya
kadiyo se.
Kabhi diwaroo mein
Kabhi dooriyo mein
Mann ke aashwo ki
Doowd kaun, kaha,
rok paya hai

Mann to mann hai
Ek sawachand panchi
Kaun use kisi bandhan
me bandh paya hai.

mann doodaye
mann hasaye
mann roolaye
mann ki mahima
kya kabhi kooie jaan paya hai.

Mann to mann hai
Ek sawachand panchi
Kaun use kisi bandhan
me bandh paya hai

mann chanchal hai,
jharno sa
baadlo mein chamakti bijjliyo sa.
mann paavan hai
pooja mein chadhe puspo sa.
mann pischash hai
khoon mooh lage narbhakshi sa.

par phir,

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poem by Anjali Kakati
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School V/s College

Na hoti ye B. Tech, na hoti ye MD ki sheetey
Yaad aate hain yaaro, lamhe wo beetein

School ki wo masti yaad aati hai har pal
Yaad aata hain mujhko beet gaya jo kal

School mein jaate the padne hum saare
College mein jaate hain attendance ke maare

Teacher ko maante the tab hum guru
School mein jaate hi padhai shuru

Yahaan to chalti hai humari sarkar
Dooston ke sang maani kabhi na haar

School mein padte waqt hota tha competition
Yahaan aakar puchhte hain kab aayega math ka solution

School mein pocket mein hota tha pencil n rubber
Yahaan to class notes ki bhi nahi hai khabar

School mein jaate the hum sab padne, ghar pe sab kuch batana hain
College mein jana to girl friend dekhne ka ek bahana hain

School mein jaate waqt, har roj hote the paise
Yahaan purse to hain, lekin nahi hain paise

School mein hamesha jaane se pahle bag check kia
Yahaan to jo marji mila, wahe kagaj utha lia

Pen jeb mein hua nhi, ungli se kaam chalaya hai
Jisne ki hain college mein masti sukh to usne hi paaya hai

School mein hoti thi full attendance, yahhan to 60 ke liye bhi rote hain
Par sach bataun yaaro college mein hi sapne poore hote hain

poem by Ankit Gupta
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Kuchh Bhi to Nahein Hai Naam Mein Mere. [A poem in Hindi]

Kuchh bhi to nahien hai naam mein mere
Na koi arth hai na mahatav hi
Samay ke raigistan mein jaisey
Tum ne ik naam likha tha
Jo mit sa gaya hai
Waqt ki aandhi se.
Ab jab teri nai duniya mein
Naiye saathi sang hain tere
Kya rakha hai beeti yaadon mein
Bharte rahein aanso in aankhon mein
Rait par likha hua ik shabd tha mein
Jo mit sa gaya hoon.
Lekin jab bhi naiye sab saathi
Sang chhod tujhe peddit kar dein
Naam tum lena mera priye tab
Aur moorat kar ke yaad tum meri
Kehna thha ik sachha shaksh bhi
Jiske pyaar ne jeevan mein thhey
Aashaon ke phool bikhere
Jise waqt nigal gaya hai
Aur jo yaadon ke aakash mein
Ik tara ban kar chamak raha hai
Chhahey uska koi naam nahien hai........[1992]

poem by Om Chawla
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Halke Halke se

Ye hume halke halke se
Kya hone laga hai?
Kora kagaz humara
Rangoo se bharne laga hai,
Ya humari nazre hi rangeen ho chali hai?

Hum badal rahe hai,
Ya aaina badal gaya hai,
Kuch din huai
Bada raas aane laga hai.

Dekhte hai, nayano me
Kajal khoob bhane laga hai,
Ye humare nayan badal gaye hai
Ya phir kajal hi badal chala hai.

Tum sang,
Choori ke chand lamho mei
Jee lete hai aapni,
Aarso ki jindagi,
Ye lamhe jindagi ban chale hai,
Ya jindagi lamho mei simat chalee hai.

Tum me hum me hai janmoo ka phasla
Tum parayee,
Hum ek doosri duniya me base basayee.
Ye kya hone laga hai?
Janmoo ka phasla kam ho raha hai,
Ya, tamam janm ise janam me mil gaya hai.

Tum parayee hokar bhi,
Aapne se lag rahe ho.
Ye parayee aapne ho gaye hai,
Ya hum khud se parayee ho chale hai.

Ye hume halke halke se
Kya hoone laga hai…..?

poem by Anjali Kakati
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Khuda Kaisa Dikhta Hoga

Khuda kaisa dikhta hoga,
Kuch tujh jaisa,
Kuch mujh jaisa hi
Dikhta hoga
Aandhero ke is dor mein
Vo bhi
Po phatne ke rah takta hoga.

Khuda kaisa dikhta hoga,
Kuch tujh jaisa,
Kuch mujh jaisa hi
Dikhta hoga
Nafrato ke is sahar mein
Vo bhi,
Diya jala,
Thoda pyar
Thodi vafa
dhoondhta hoga.

Khuda kaisa dikhta hoga,
Kuch tujh jaisa,
Kuch mujh jaisa hi
Dikhta hoga
Aapni hi banayi sristi mein
Roj
thoda khoon
thode aasu
vo bhi,
bahata hoga.

Khuda kaisa dikhta hoga,
Kuch tujh jaisa,
Kuch mujh jaisa hi
Dikhta hoga
Chup ke
thujh mein
mujh mein
is aas mein
jita hoga
ki,
kabhi to hoga aant
is intezar ka,
intejar karta hoga.

Khuda kaisa dikhta hoga,
Kuch tujh jaisa,
Kuch mujh jaisa hi
Dikhta hoga

poem by Anjali Kakati
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Phagoon Ki Raasta Khoi Hawa

Kya dhoondhte hai?
Kyoun dhoondhte hai?
Kise dhoondhte hai?

Sara jahan hai..
Kabi mutthi me,
To kabhi
Kadmo tale,
Phir bhi jaane kya chahte hai?
Na jaane kis ki khoj me rehta hai,
dil bechara.

Kyon aasthir hai?
Itna asantust,
Itna vyakul ye mann mera?
Peeneko toh puri dariya hai
Na jaane phir kyoun lout aate hai
Pyase he kinare se
Lekar koi naam anjana.

Kyoun nahi chal paate hai
Un raasto par
Jis par chalta hai jag sara?
Na jaane kyoun bhatakte phirte hai
Pagdandi, pagdandi
Jangal, khalihan sara?

Shayad phagoon ki
Rasta khoyee hawa hain,
Kabhi ek tinke se jala dete hai
tamam umar ki kamaiee,
Kabhi usi tinke koi bana lete hai
Doobte ki parchyee.

Kya dhoondhte hai?
Kyoun dhoondhte hai?
Kise dhoondhte hai?

poem by Anjali Kakati
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The Brus Book XVIII

Only Berwick remains in English hands; a burgess offers to betray it]

The lordis off the land war fayne
Quhen thai wist he wes cummyn agan
And till him went in full gret hy,
And he ressavit thaim hamlyly
5 And maid thaim fest and glaidsum cher,
And thai sa wonderly blyth wer
Off his come that na man mycht say,
Gret fest and fayr till him maid thai.
Quharever he raid all the countre
10 Gaderyt in daynte him to se,
Gret glaidschip than wes in the land.
All than wes wonnyn till his hand,
Fra the Red Swyre to Orknay
Wes nocht off Scotland fra his fay
15 Outakyn Berwik it allane.
That tym tharin wonnyt ane
That capitane wes of the toun,
All Scottismen in suspicioun
He had and tretyt thaim tycht ill.
20 He had ay to thaim hevy will
And held thaim fast at undre ay,
Quhill that it fell apon a day
That a burges Syme of Spalding
Thocht that it wes rycht angry thing
25 Suagate ay to rebutyt be.
Tharfor intill his hart thocht he
That he wald slely mak covyne
With the marchall, quhays cosyne
He had weddyt till him wiff,
30 And as he thocht he did belyff.
Lettrys till him he send in hy
With a traist man all prively,
And set him tym to cum a nycht
With leddrys and with gud men wicht
35 Till the kow yet all prively,
And bad him hald his trist trewly
And he suld mete thaim at the wall,
For his walk thar that nycht suld fall.

[The marischal shows the letter to the king,
who seeks to avoid jealousy between Douglas and Moray]

Quhen the marchell the lettre saw
40 He umbethocht him than a thraw,
For he wist be himselvyn he
Mycht nocht off mycht no power be
For till escheyff sa gret a thing,
And giff he tuk till his helping

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poem by John Barbour
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The Brus Book 18

[Edward Bruce marches toward Dundalk; he debates whether to fight]

Bot he that rest anoyit ay
And wald in travaill be alway,
A day forouth thar aryving
That war send till him fra the king,
5 He tuk his way southwart to far
Magre thaim all that with him war,
For he had nocht than in that land
Of all men I trow twa thousand,
Outane the kingis off Irchery
10 That in gret routis raid him by.
Towart Dundalk he tuk the way,
And quhen Richard of Clar hard say
That he come with sa few menye
All that he mycht assemblit he
15 Off all Irland off armyt men,
Sua that he had thar with him then
Off trappyt hors twenty thousand
But thai that war on fute gangand,
And held furth northward on his way.
20 And quhen Schyr Edward has hard say
That cummyn ner till him wes he
He send discouriouris him to se,
The Soullis and the Stewart war thai
And Schyr Philip the Mowbray,
25 And quhen thai sene had thar cummyng
Thai went agayne to tell tithing,
And said weill thai war mony men.
In hy Schyr Edward answerd then
And said that he suld fecht that day
30 Thoucht tribill and quatribill war thai.
Schyr Jhone Stewart said, 'Sekyrly
I reid nocht ye fecht on sic hy,
Men sayis my brother is cummand
With fyften thousand men ner-hand,
35 And war thai knyt with you ye mycht
The traistlyer abid to fycht.'
Schyr Edward lukyt all angrely
And till the Soullis said in hy,
'Quhat sayis thou?' 'Schyr,' he said, 'Perfay
40 As my falow has said I say.'
And than to Schyr Philip said he.
'Schyr,' said he, 'sa our Lord me se
Me think na foly for to bid
Your men that spedis thaim to rid,
45 For we ar few, our fayis ar fele,
God may rycht weill our werdis dele,
Bot it war wondre that our mycht
Suld our-cum sa fele in fycht.'

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poem by John Barbour
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