गुलज़ार । Gulzar



सहमा सहमा डरा सा रहता है
जाने क्यूँ जी भरा सा रहता है

काई सी जम गई है आँखों पर
सारा मंज़र हरा सा रहता है

एक पल देख लूँ तो उठता हूँ
जल गया घर ज़रा सा रहता है

सर में जुम्बिश ख़याल की भी नहीं
ज़ानुओं पर धरा सा रहता है


सिद्दीक़ मुजीब । Siddique Mujeeb

Siddique Mujeeb

Siddique Mujeeb

One of the most remarkable ghazals by Siddique Mujeeb saheb, this work makes him stand tall in the world of Urdu poetry. He has penned numerous other beautiful ghazals. The meter is melodious and instantly echoes through one’s heart. Read the full ghazal and do not forget to share it with your friends and loved ones who appreciate poetry.

आग देखूँ कभी जलता हुआ बिस्तर देखूँ
रात आए तो यहीं ख़्वाब-ए-मुकर्रर देखूँ

एक बेचैन समुंदर है मिरे जिस्म में क़ैद
टूट जाए जो ये दीवार तो मंज़र देखूँ

रात गहरी है बहुत राज़ न देगी अपना
मैं तो सूरज भी नहीं हूँ कि उतर कर देखूँ

ख़ुद पे क्या बीत गई इतने दिनों में तुझ बिन
ये भी हिम्मत नहीं अब झाँक के अंदर देखूँ

कोई इस दौर में एलान-ए-नबूवत करता
आरज़ू थी कि ख़ुदा-साज़ पयम्बर देखूँ

एक सन्नाटा हूँ पत्थर के जिगर में पैवस्त
मैं कोई बुत तो नहीं हूँ कि निकल कर देखूँ

यूँ नशे से कभी दो चार तिरा ग़म हो कि मैं
बंद आँखों से खुली आँख का मंज़र देखूँ

ओढ़ कर ख़ाक ‘मुजीबी’ सुनूँ दुश्नाम-ए-जहाँ
ये तमाशा ही किसी रोज़ मियाँ कर देखूँ

पाब्लो नेरूदा । Pablo Neruda

Ode to Salt by Pablo Neruda

Ode to Salt by Pablo Neruda

We often hear that poets have their muses, they get inspiration from the nature, from the bounties of the skies, from ravishing waterfalls, from delicate beauties and so on. But have you ever heard that someone got inspired from salt! Yes, salt, our very own, the homely, white, fine-grained beauty that quaintly sits in the uniquely designed porcelain shakers.
And not only inspiration, Neruda decides to render an ode to this taste enhancing grain from the oceans.
Read this wonderful poem titled ‘Ode to Salt’ by Pablo Neruda. Read it again till you start feeling the taste of salt lingering on your lips. Then, you would have actually read what Neruda meant.

This salt in the saltcellar
I once saw in the salt mines.
I know
you won’t
believe me,
it sings,
salt sings, the skin
of the salt mines
with a mouth smothered
by the earth.
I shivered in those solitudes
when I heard
the voice of
the salt
in the desert.
Near Antofagasta
the nitrous
a broken
a mournful

In its caves
the salt moans, mountain
of buried light,
translucent cathedral,
crystal of the sea, oblivion
of the waves.

And then on every table
in the world,
we see your piquant
vital light
our food. Preserver
of the ancient
holds of ships,
the high seas,
of the unknown, shifting
byways of the foam.
Dust of the sea, in you
the tongue receives a kiss
from ocean night:
taste imparts to every seasoned
dish your ocean essence;
the smallest,
wave from the saltcellar
reveals to us
more than domestic whiteness;
in it, we taste infinitude.

यूजीन फ़ील्ड । Eugene Field

Eugene Field

A spring poem from Bion

One asketh:
“Tell me, Myrson, tell me true:
What’s the season pleaseth you?
Is it summer suits you best,
When from harvest toil we rest?
Is it autumn with its glory
Of all surfeited desires?
Is it winter, when with story
And with song we hug our fires?
Or is spring most fair to you–
Come, good Myrson, tell me true!”

Another answereth:
“What the gods in wisdom send
We should question not, my friend;
Yet, since you entreat of me,
I will answer reverently:
Me the summertime displeases,
For its sun is scorching hot;
Autumn brings such dire diseases
That perforce I like it not;
As for biting winter, oh!
How I hate its ice and snow!

“But, thrice welcome, kindly spring,
With the myriad gifts you bring!
Not too hot nor yet too cold,
Graciously your charms unfold–
Oh, your days are like the dreaming
Of those nights which love beseems,
And your nights have all the seeming
Of those days of golden dreams!
Heaven smiles down on earth, and then
Earth smiles up to heaven again!”

विकास राणा । Vikas Rana


Poetry, it’s not just about the bearded men in their royal robes. It is as much about a budding flower as it is about a dated tree. Here at Mukarrar, we keep an eye for gems of poetry all around us. While many popular poets still manage to find a place amid readers, it becomes difficult for works of masters who have long perished from the memory of public to find its relevance. While Mukarrar started with the thought of curating collections of master poets across the world, somewhere down the road, we thought it is equally rewarding to feature young poets as well. 

In this post, we are featuring Shayar Vikas Rana from Delhi. His poetry has a unique flavour of age old stories and copybook romance as well as portrayal of imagery in such simple instances that you would wonder why didnt it come across to you. 

Read, share, comment if you like how Vikas, who goes by the pen name of ‘Fikr’ leaves you drowned with subtle melody of urdu shayari. 

Vikas Rana

Vikas Rana

कैफ़ी आज़्मी । Kaifi Azmi


या दिल की सुनो दुनिया वालों
या मुझको अभी चुप रहने दो
मैं ग़म को खुशी कैसे कह दूँ
जो कहते हैं उनको कहने दो

ये फूल चमन में कैसा खिला
माली की नज़र में प्यार नहीं
हँसते हुए क्या-क्या देख लिया
अब बहते हैं आँसू बहने दो

एक ख़्वाब खुशी का देखा नहीं
देखा जो कभी तो भूल गये
माना हम तुम्हें कुछ दे ना सके
जो तुमने दिया वो सहने दो

क्या दर्द किसी का लेगा कोई
इतना तो किसी में दर्द नहीं
बहते हुए आँसू और बहें
अब ऐसी तसल्ली रहने दो