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View Poll Results: Do u beleive Iqbal is the greatest poet n scholar of last century???
Yes 43 91.49%
No 3 6.38%
Don't Know 1 2.13%
Multiple Choice Poll. Voters: 47. You may not vote on this poll

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  #341  
Old Thursday, November 11, 2010
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Ukaabi ruh jab baidaar hoti hai jawanon main
Nazar aati hai unhn apni manzil aasmanon main
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  #342  
Old Thursday, November 11, 2010
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Koi kabil ho to hum shanen kaye daite hain

dhundne walon ko dunya b naye daite hian
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  #343  
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sone do agar wo so raha hai ghulami ki neend main

ho skta hai k wo khuaab azadi k dkh raha ho
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  #344  
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Na murawwat, na mohabbat na khulus hai Iqbaal,

main to sharminda hun is daur ka insaan ho ker
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  #345  
Old Thursday, November 11, 2010
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جوانوں کو مري آہ سحر دے
پھر ان شاہيں بچوں کو بال و پر دے
خدايا! آرزو ميري يہي ہے
مرا نور بصيرت عام کر دے
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  #346  
Old Thursday, November 11, 2010
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teray Azaad bandun ki na yeh Dunya na wo Dunya
Yahan Marney ki Pabandi Wahan Jeenay ke Pabandi
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  #347  
Old Friday, November 12, 2010
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Default ہندوستاني بچوں کا قومي گيت


چشتي نے جس زميں ميں پيغام حق سنايا
نانک نے جس چمن ميں وحدت کا گيت گايا
تاتاريوں نے جس کو اپنا وطن بنايا
جس نے حجازيوں سے دشت عرب چھڑايا

ميرا وطن وہي ہے ، ميرا وطن وہي ہے

يونانيوں کو جس نے حيران کر ديا تھا
سارے جہاں کو جس نے علم و ہنر ديا تھا
مٹي کو جس کي حق نے زر کا اثر ديا تھا
ترکوں کا جس نے دامن ہيروں سے بھر ديا تھا

ميرا وطن وہي ہے، ميرا وطن وہي ہے

ٹوٹے تھے جو ستارے فارس کے آسماں سے
پھر تاب دے کے جس نے چمکائے کہکشاں سے
وحدت کي لے سني تھي دنيا نے جس مکاں سے
مير عرب کو آئي ٹھنڈي ہوا جہاں سے

ميرا وطن وہي ہے، ميرا وطن وہي ہے

بندے کليم جس کے ، پربت جہاں کے سينا
نوح نبي کا آ کر ٹھہرا جہاں سفينا
رفعت ہے جس زميں کي بام فلک کا زينا
جنت کي زندگي ہے جس کي فضا ميں جينا

ميرا وطن وہي ہے، ميرا وطن وہي ہے


THE NATIONAL ANTHEM FOR THE INDIAN CHILDREN


The land in which Chishtâ delivered the message of God
The garden in which N«nak sang the song of Tawhâd of God
The land which the Tatars adopted as their homeland
For which people of Hijaz abandoned the Arabian wilderness
That same is my homeland, that same is my homeland

Whose wisdom had left the Greeks bewildered
Which gave knowledge and skill to the entire world
Whose soil had been endowed by God with the elixir's effect
Which had filled the pocket of the Turks with diamonds
That same is my homeland, that same is my homeland

Which illuminated and established in the milky way again
The stars which had fallen from the sky of Persia
The House from which the world had heard Tawhâd's tune
From where the Holy Prophet had felt cool breeze
That same is my homeland, that same is my homeland

Whose denizens are Kalâms, whose mountains the Sinais are
Where the Prophet Nuh's boat and its occupants had landed
The land whose elegance is the stairway to the sky
Living in whose environment is like living in Paradise
That same is my homeland, that same is my homeland


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  #348  
Old Saturday, November 13, 2010
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Default نيا شوالا


سچ کہہ دوں اے برہمن! گر تو برا نہ مانے
تيرے صنم کدوں کے بت ہو گئے پرانے

اپنوں سے بير رکھنا تو نے بتوں سے سيکھا
جنگ و جدل سکھايا واعظ کو بھي خدا نے

تنگ آ کے ميں نے آخر دير و حرم کو چھوڑا
واعظ کا وعظ چھوڑا، چھوڑے ترے فسانے

پتھر کي مورتوں ميں سمجھا ہے تو خدا ہے
خاک وطن کا مجھ کو ہر ذرہ ديوتا ہے

آ ، غيريت کے پردے اک بار پھر اٹھا ديں
بچھڑوں کو پھر ملا ديں نقش دوئي مٹا ديں

سوني پڑي ہوئي ہے مدت سے دل کي بستي
آ ، اک نيا شوالا اس ديس ميں بنا ديں

دنيا کے تيرتھوں سے اونچا ہو اپنا تيرتھ
دامان آسماں سے اس کا کلس ملا ديں

ہر صبح اٹھ کے گائيں منتر وہ مٹيھے مٹيھے
سارے پجاريوں کو مے پيت کي پلا ديں

شکتي بھي شانتي بھي بھگتوں کے گيت ميں ہے
دھرتي کے باسيوں کي مکتي پريت ميں ہے



THE NEW TEMPLE


May I tell the truth O Brahman! If it does not displease you
The idols of your temple have become anachronistic

You have learnt grudge with your own people from the idols
God also has taught fighting to Muslim preachers

Becoming tired, I finally abandoned the temple and the Haram
I abandoned the preacher's sermons, as well as your stories

You take the stone idols to contain God
Every speck of the homeland's dust is holy to me

Come! Let us again roll up the curtains of strangeness
Let us unite the separated ones, let us remove the disunion

The heart's habitation is lying barren since long
Let us build a new temple in this country

Let our shrine be higher than the world's shrines
Let us make its spire as high as the sky

Let our morning's incantations be so sweet every morning
That all worshipers be ecstatic with the Love's wine

The power and tranquillity is in the devotees' song
The salvation of the denizens of the earth is in Love


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  #349  
Old Sunday, November 14, 2010
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عظمت غالب ہے اک مدت سے پيوند زميں
مہدي مجروح ہے شہر خموشاں کا مکيں

توڑ ڈالي موت نے غربت ميں مينائے امير
چشم محفل ميں ہے اب تک کيف صہبائے امير

آج ليکن ہمنوا! سارا چمن ماتم ميں ہے
شمع روشن بجھ گئي، بزم سخن ماتم ميں ہے

بلبل دلي نے باندھا اس چمن ميں آشياں
ہم نوا ہيں سب عنادل باغ ہستي کے جہاں

چل بسا داغ آہ! ميت اس کي زيب دوش ہے
آخري شاعر جہان آباد کا خاموش ہے

اب کہاں وہ بانکپن، وہ شوخي طرز بياں
آگ تھي کافور پيري ميں جواني کي نہاں

تھي زبان داغ پر جو آرزو ہر دل ميں ہے
ليلي معني وہاں بے پردہ، ياں محمل ميں ہے

اب صبا سے کون پوچھے گا سکوت گل کا راز
کون سمجھے گا چمن ميں نالہ بلبل کا راز

تھي حقيقت سے نہ غفلت فکر کي پرواز ميں
آنکھ طائر کي نشيمن پر رہي پرواز ميں

اور دکھلائيں گے مضموں کي ہميں باريکياں
اپنے فکر نکتہ آرا کي فلک پيمائياں

تلخي دوراں کے نقشے کھينچ کر رلوائيں گے
يا تخيل کي نئي دنيا ہميں دکھلائيں گے

اس چمن ميں ہوں گے پيدا بلبل شيراز بھي
سينکڑوں ساحر بھي ہوں گے، صاحب اعجاز بھي

اٹھيں گے آزر ہزاروں شعر کے بت خانے سے
مے پلائيں گے نئے ساقي نئے پيمانے سے

لکھي جائيں گي کتاب دل کي تفسيريں بہت
ہوں گي اے خواب جواني! تيري تعبيريں بہت

ہوبہو کھينچے گا ليکن عشق کي تصوير کون ؟
اٹھ گيا ناوک فگن، مارے گا دل پر تير کون ؟

اشک کے دانے زمين شعر ميں بوتا ہوں ميں
تو بھي رو اے خاک دلي! داغ کو روتا ہوں ميں

اے جہان آباد، اے سرمايہ بزم سخن
ہوگيا پھر آج پامال خزاں تيرا چمن

وہ گل رنگيں ترا رخصت مثال بو ہوا
آہ! خالي داغ سے کاشانہ و اردو ہوا

تھي نہ شايد کچھ کشش ايسي وطن کي خاک ميں
وہ مہ کامل ہوا پنہاں دکن کي خاک ميں

اٹھ گئے ساقي جو تھے، ميخانہ خالي رہ گيا
يادگار بزم دہلي ايک حالي رہ گيا

آرزو کو خون رلواتي ہے بيداد اجل
مارتا ہے تير تاريکي ميں صياد اجل

کھل نہيں سکتي شکايت کے ليے ليکن زباں
ہے خزاں کا رنگ بھي وجہ قيام گلستاں

ايک ہي قانون عالم گير کے ہيں سب اثر
بوے گل کا باغ سے، گلچيں کا دنيا سے سفر


NAWÿB MIRZÿ KHÿN DÿGH


The grandeur of Gh«lib1 has remained buried since long
Mahdi Majrëé1 is the cemetery's resident since long

Death broke the decanter of Amir in a strange country
The assembly's eye still has the ecstasy of the wine of Amir

However, today O Companion! The whole garden is mourning!
Lighted candle is extinguished, literary assembly is mourning!

The Delhi's nightingale made its nest in such a garden
Where all the world's nightingales are singing in a chorus

Ah D«gh has gone! His bier is on our shoulders
The last poet of Jah«nab«d is finally silent

Gone is that smartness! Gone is that humor of style!
The fire of youth was veiled in the old age's camphor

Every heart has the longing which the language of D«gh had
This Lailah was unveiled there, she is behind the veil here

Who will ask zephyr now the secret of silence of the rose?
Who in the garden will understand the secret of nightingale's wailing?

In his elegant imagination he was not unaware of reality
The bird's eye remained focused on the nest even in flight

Others will show us the subtleties of linguistic thought
The elevated elegance of the sagacity of their thought

They will make us cry painting the picture of time's vicissitudes
Or will show us the new world of their imagination

Nightingales of Shir«z also will be born in this garden
There will be hundreds of magicians and masters of miracles

Thousands of ÿzars will rise from the temple of poetry
The new cup-bearers will serve wine from the new goblets

Many commentaries of the book of Love will be written
There will be many interpretations of the youths' dreams

However, who will draw the exact picture of Love?
The master having departed who will enchant the heart

I am sowing the seeds of tears in the soil of verse
You also cry, O Delhi's soil! I am crying for D«gh!

Ah! O The Ka'bah of the literateur's religion
Your garden has been ruined by autumn today

That colorful rose of yours has departed like fragrance
That is, the abode of Urdu has become deprived of D«gh

Perhaps not much attraction was in the homeland's soil
That full moon has set in the soil of the Dakkan

The cup-bearers have left, the tavern has become deserted,
Only H«lâ the memorable personality of Delhi's assembly has been left

The tyranny of death makes longing shed tears of blood
The archer of death shoots out arrows in the dark

However, the tongue cannot open in complaint
Autumn's style is also a prelude to garden's existence

The one universal law creates all such results
Exit of fragrance from the garden, that of the gardener from the world


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  #350  
Old Monday, November 15, 2010
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Default ابر


اٹھي پھر آج وہ پورب سے کالي کالي گھٹا
سياہ پوش ہوا پھر پہاڑ سربن کا

نہاں ہوا جو رخ مہر زير دامن ابر
ہوائے سرد بھي آئي سوار توسن ابر

گرج کا شور نہيں ہے ، خموش ہے يہ گھٹا
عجيب مے کدئہ بے خروش ہے يہ گھٹا

چمن ميں حکم نشاط مدام لائي ہے
قبائے گل ميں گہر ٹانکنے کو آئي ہے

جو پھول مہر کي گرمي سے سو چلے تھے ، اٹھے
زميں کي گود ميں جو پڑ کے سو رہے تھے ، اٹھے

ہوا کے زور سے ابھرا، بڑھا، اڑا بادل
اٹھي وہ اور گھٹا، لو! برس پڑا بادل

عجيب خيمہ ہے کہسار کے نہالوں کا
يہيں قيام ہو وادي ميں پھرنے والوں کا


THE CLOUD


Today dark clouds have appeared from the east again
Mount Sarban has become covered with darkness again

As the sun's face became hidden under the clouds
Cool breeze also came riding on the steed of clouds

There are no thunder claps, silent are these clouds
Strange in its tranquillity is this tavern of dark clouds

It has brought everlasting joy's message for the garden
It has come to stitch pearls to the jacket of rose

The flowers which were fading by sun's heat freshened up
Those which were sleeping in the earth's bosom woke up

With the wind's force the cloud rose, advanced and flowed
Some dark clouds rose up, the clouds burst open into rain!

The camp of the mountains' trees is wonderful
Strollers in valleys should stay among its trees


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