‘KarmaaN Maari – The Ill Fated’ a poem by Shehnaz Parveen Sahar

An Urdu poem in English and Punjabi.
Punjabi shahmukhi
Punjabi roman
Urdu
English

photofromshenaz

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Punjabi Shahmukhi >

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کرماں ماری

ہنے ہنے
میں فیر
اوس محفل
توں
نس آئی آں
جتھے رفو،زاہدہ ،عرشی، ٹیبی
میرے
آل دوالے
بیٹھیاں میرے لہنگےاتّے
چمپا گوٹا لا رہئیاں نے
میرے ہتھیں
شگن دی مہندی
متھےاتے
جھومر ٹکہ
لا رہئیاں نے
بابل والے گیت وداعی
گا رہئیاں نے
ویکھو سب دیاں ونگاں ویکھو
چھنک کھنک کے
ایہہ وی سنگت پا رہئیاں نے

ایہہ سب کُج پر کاہدے لئی اے

جھلییو
تسی تے کج وی جاندیاں نئیں
اگے اگ دا
کرماں ساڑدا
لال سمندر
ٹھاٹھاں ماردا آ ڈُھکیا اے
انج کرنا تسی
مینوں اپنے نال ای لے کے ٹرجانا

ایس توں پہل۔۔۔
گیت تہاڈےاگ وچ سڑ کے
پُھٹ پُھٹ روون
چیکاں مارن

اڑیو
میری گل تاں سن لئو
کتھے چلیاں
مڑ کےویکھو
واپس آئو
سکھیونی
مینوں گل نال لائو
سن لئو اڑیو
خورے میریاں آوازاں
نوں کیوں نئیں سُن دیاں
اپنےسارے گیت نمانے لیندیاں جائو
ویکھوکسراں
میرے گل وچ بانہواں پا کے
چیکاں مار کے
رو پئے سارے

خورے مینوں کلیاں چھڈ کے
کیوں تسی ساریاں
ٹر گیئاں جے
پچھے اپنیاں آوازاں وی چھڈ گئیاں جے
اے آوازاں
میری جان دے پچھے پے گیئاں نے

گوٹے کرناں بھریاں چُنیاں دے نال
اتھرواں والیاں۔۔۔ اکھیاں نوں
کج ہوروی کنڈے مل جاندے نے
ہونٹ سدا لئی سل جاندے نے

اُتّوں تہا ڈ یاں کن من کن من آوازاں نے
ساہ لینا وی اوکھا کیتا

سنونی اڑیو
اک گل دسّو
آخر تسی اے ساریاں رل کے
اچی اچی
ہسدیاں کیوں جے؟؟؟

شہناز پروین سحر
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< Punjabi, roman

KarmaaN Maari
By
Shehnaz Parveen Sahar

Hunnay hunnay
maiN fer
oss mehfil
tooN
nuss aye aaN
jithay raffo, zahida, arshi, tabby
mere
aalay dwaalay
baithiyaan mere lehngay uttay
champa gotta la rahyaaN naiN
mere hatheeN
shagn dee mehndi
mathay uttay
jhoomar tikka
la rahyaaN naiN
babul walay geet vidaee
ga rahyaN naiN
vekho sab diyaN wangaN vekho
chhanak khhanak ke
eh ve sangat pa rahyaaN naiN

eh sab kujh per kahday laye ae
jhalliyo
tusseiN te kujh ve jandiyaN nahin
aggay agg da
karmaN saarrda
laal smundar
tthatthaN marda aa Dhukeya ae
inj karna tusseiN
mainuN apnay naal ee lae ke tur jana

ais toon pehlaN
geet tuhaday agg vich surr ke
phutt phutt rowan
cheekaN maran

Arreyo
meri gal te sunn lao
kithay chaliyaN
murr ke vekho
wapas aao
sakhiyo nee
mainun gal nal lao
sunn lao arreyo
khawray meriyan awazaN
nooN kiyuN nahin sunndiyaN
apnay saaray geet nomaanay laindiyaN jao
vekho kissraN
mere gal vich baNhwaN paa ke
cheekaN maar ke
ro pai saaray

Khawray mainuN kaleyaN chudd ke
kiyuN tueeiN saariyaN
Tur gayaN je
pichhay apniyaN awazaN ve chudd gayaN je
eh awazaN
meri jan de pichay paindiaN naiN

gottay kirnaN bhariyaN chuniyaN naal
athro valiyaN…. akhiyaN nooN
kujh hor ve kanday mil janday naiN
honT sada laye sil janday naiN

Sunno nee Arriyo
ek gul dusso
akhar tusseiN eh sariyaN rul ke
uchi uchi
hudiyaN kiyuN je????
..


Urdu, original >

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کرماں ماری

ابھی ابھی
میں پھر
اُس محفل سے اٹھ
بھاگی ہوں
جس میں
رفو، زاہدہ ،عرشی، ٹیبی
میرے
لہنگے پر چمپا گوٹا لگا رہی ہیں
میرے ہاتھوں پر مہندی
اور
میرے ماتھے
مانگ کا ٹیکہ سجا رہی ہیں
بابل کی دعائیں لیتی جا
گاتی جاتی ہیں
دیکھو
میری چوڑیاں دیکھو
ساتھ تمھارے
وہ بھی کچھ
گنگنا رہی ہیں

لیکن یہ سب
کیا ہے آخر
کیا تم کو کچھ خبر نہیں ہے
اس سے آگے
آگ کا دریا
کیسےٹھاٹھیں ماررہا ہے
مجھےیہاں سے لے جائواب
قبل اس کے
یہ گیت تمھارے
چیخیں ماریں
پھوٹ پھوٹ کر رونے لگیں سب
اور
ذرا تم رکو
بتائو
کہاں چلی ہو
کیا تم تک آوازیں میری پوہنچ رہی ہیں
سنو
میری آوازتو سن لو
مجھےبھی ساتھ میں لے کر جائو
مجھے اکیلا چھوڑ کے
ایسے
کیسے تم سب جا سکتی ہو
واپس آئو
آجائو ناں

کم از کم یہ گیت تمھارے
اپنے ساتھ ہی لیتی جائو
دیکھو یہ آوازیں میری
جاں لے لے لیں گی

تم اپنی
آوازیں چھوڑ کے چلی گئی ہو
یہ آوازیں تو
بلکل پاگل کردیتی ہیں
اور
گوٹا کرن بھرے دوپٹے سے
آنسو صاف کرو تو آنکھیں
اورسپنے
سب چھل جاتے ہیں
ہونٹ سدا کو سل جاتے ہیں
اوپر سے
تمھاری
آوازیں ہیں

سنو۔۔۔
یہ تم سب
آخراتنا
ہنستی کیوں ہو؟؟؟

شہناز پروین سحر
..

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< English

The Ill-Fated
By
Shehnaz Parveen Sahar

Just now
again i
ran away
from the gathering
where
ruffo, zahida, arshi, tabby
are tucking silver gold decorations on
my wedding gown
hena in my hands
and
on my forehead
a tikka in the parting of my hair
‘take the prayers of your parents with you’
they are singing
look
look my bracelets
are also
humming along
with you

But what is
all this
do you not know
how a river of fire
rages on and on
in front of me
take me with you
before the time when
your songs
become screams
burst into tears
and you
just stop for a moment
say
where are you going
can you hear me
listen
hear my voice
take me with you
leaving me alone
like this
how can you go
come back here
come back

Your songs at least
take them with you
i tell you their echoes will claim
my life from me

You left
leaving behind your voices
these voices can
make anyone insane
and
with a cloth of silver gold decorations
when the tears are wiped then eyes
and dreams both
get scratched
lips get sealed forever
and on top of it
your
voices

Listen…
you all!
Why is it that you
laugh so much?

From Urdu by Fauzia Rafique
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photo-shenaz

Shehnaz Parveen Sahar: An acclaimed poet from Pakistan.

 Photos from Sahar’s Facebook Page

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‘Blues Loony’ a poem by Sana Janjua

Eight years ago, I ferried across the mossy
Greens of blues loony, dreaming of escape,
I wore dread red lipstick, tightened my
Appetite from much to most;

Of literature I knew something, so I wrote
Fabled blossom-hearted nothingness,
Mysterious with pain hidden from their eyes,
As they crawled under my skin, saying who are you?

A ghost walked by in Newton Park, western winds howling
In eastern agony, bricked with bonded labour,
The rapists hurried away, unsuccessfully, with my right ankle
Lost in the abyss of migratorial silence, who could I tell?

Everything was so fast back then, before I owned a radio,
And Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb didn’t come to check up on
My little body that wriggled under the weight of eyelids…

I summoned nerve-wrecked
Poetry to find itself in me, as syllables and rhymes
Tethered around in akathisiacal mooniness…
I slept on public benches- night after night thinking
Of you, as you lay your arms around someone else.

Listen, you, listen,
Remember I too could smile through pain,

When I didn’t know your caste,
Your language, your capitalist father’s burgundy furniture,
When I didn’t know you and me,
And you said you loved me.

Sana Janjua is an emerging poet and playwright. She is a founding member and President of Surrey Muse, an interdisciplinary art and literature group.

uddariblog@gmail.com
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Uddari-Weblog/333586816691660
@UddariWeblog
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English Poems find a home at Uddari

‘English Poems’ is a new page that brings together poems published at Uddari in English since 2008. These include translations from other languages.

The page was created on a ‘hunch’ that there were a few English poems rolling around on the blog that somehow could not be reflected on the existing poetry page (clearly) called Punjabi Poems. Even then, a couple of English poems did make their way into it by the grace of their powerful Punjabi counterparts.

Collecting ‘a few’ poems for this page took three times the amount of work anticipated. You will see why when you visit it. No one thought we had so much of such potent poetic content at Uddar. It is powerhouse poetry!

Check it out:
https://uddari.wordpress.com/english-poems/

You will notice that only some poems are published on the page, the rest have links to their independent posts. The poems on the page are extracted from larger posts on the blog, and the links are provided.

We suspect, some poems still may have escaped us. If you come across any that isn’t on English Poems page, let us know at uddari@live.ca.
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‘English Wars’ by Krisantha Sri Bhaggiyadatta

English Wars

What I have learned from my world history is that the Anglos/Yanks/Euros were/are always fighting many wars – The True Wonders of this World!

The US calls it the Vietnam War,
The Vietnamese call it the US war.
The US calls it the Iraq war,
The Iraqis call it the US war.
The Koreans call it the US war.

Who makes them, names them.
Who they make them on, names them too – still

We can’t call them all American
Wars either: For the Yaghan by Antarctic
Tierra Del Fuego upto the Inuit by the Arctic
Have never invaded us, or plan to.
And Haitiano, Boliviano, Cubano and Venezuelano
Were Americans before Americans were Americans
(as those West Injuns who were Injuns
Long Before East Injuns!)

The English called them the Kandyan wars
We call them the English Wars,
The Dutch Wars, the Portuguese Wars.

I can see the English have a problem
with English: They fight so many wars
They can’t call them all English
War I, English War II, English War III.
They’d soon be past numbering
English War Two Zero One One – 2011!

The English are always fighting wars
Any given time. Any given place.
Wars they don’t call wars. Wars
Sometimes even called natural
Disasters!

And even as they bomb they sing
So sweet. Sing a song of democracy (discounted
for the dollar). Sing a song of human rights
(hedged on epidermis).

War War War! Wah Wah Wah!
Here then are the first and last cries
Of this English baby
Polybellicose perverse
Trying to sound this world out.
War! War! War! Wah! Wah! Wah!

Krisantha Sri Bhaggiyadatta
September 21, 2010

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‘Porn Creation’ by Fauzia Rafique

(Shaheed Bibi Aisha Ibrahim Duhulow (13) was stoned to death in Somalia in October 2008)

1 stadium
A truckload of (Somali) stones
50 armed erections (limp)
1,000 (Samuyeun) spectators
1 adulteress (bound)

The ‘adulterous’
Gang-rape victim
Aisha (13)

Shaheed Bibi Aisha
Ibrahim Duhulow
Stoned to death
To hide the aggression
of three men of arms

I digress
She was expected
to not object

Shaheed Bibi Aisha
Ibrahim Duhulow
Kept asking for justice
She had faith
in the force of life

Impotent enforcers needed
Three
Actions on cue
(is she dead
or alive?)
to get their elements to rise

Shoot that child to keep it rising!
(Better than viagra,
Better than cialis)

‘We are sorry
No one can interrupt
This Porn O
Graphy,
We are about to…
Yes throw those stones…
faster…
You, adulterous…!
Ah… kill her…
Kill her…
Kill her.
Aaaah… Soooooo!’

Congratulations!
The impotent enforcers
at long last
experience multiple erections
lasting longer harder,
culminating in unprecedented
pre-ejaculations
of spurts of
negligible strength.

Now published in

Holier-Than-Life-Cover
.
Buy it here
Gumroad
Amazon
Smashwords

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More
Holier Than Life
facebook.com/fauzia.zohra.rafique
@RafiqueFauzia

Fauzia Rafique
gandholi.wordpress.com
frafique@gmail.com

Contact Uddari
uddariweblog@gmail.com
Facebook
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Twitter
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Honouring Poet Sadhu Binning

Sadhu Binning, Vancouver 2008

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Poet Sadhu Binning, Vancouver 2008

Profile at www.writersunion.ca


UBC Conference A seminar in honor of Sadhu Binning
………………………………………

I met Sadhu Binning in one of the earlier festivals of Desh Pardesh (1988-2001) in Toronto at the end of 1980s. Desh Pardesh was an inspiring coalition of cultural organizations and individuals spearheaded by the gay South Asians of Khush, and later, the members of South Asian Visual Arts Collective (SAVAC); its impact on South Asian cultural communities in Canada and US is deep and unmistakable.

Next, i saw Sadhu in Surrey in 2005 when Dr. Manjur Ejaz (www.wichaar.com) was visiting from Washington to comemorate Dr. Prem Prakash Singh. Yet after all this time, there was no feeling of discontinuity; and that in part, is the healing experience of coming across Sadhu Binning or his poems.

It is rare to meet a person who appears to be serenely unified in this disjointed world as he uses his soft but firm poetic voice in Punjabi Canadian literature.

It is difficult to find a Punjabi poet in the West who has expressed the pain and loss resulting from the experience of migration, and has then gone on to deliver the pleasant possibility of an evolved integration.

It is impossible to find a poetic voice that sustains its nuances when crossing the boundaries of one language while housed into the other.

This one poem says it all:

No More Watnu Dur

A Punjabi/English poem by Sadhu Binning

letters that I wrote

to my family

to my friends

in the last one century

were all written

from a foreign land

to the motherland

but the letter that I just wrote

about the news of my father’s death

is written

from my country to another country

I wrote:

My father left his home a long time ago

he lived with the dream of

one day returning to his fields

to spend the last of his days in peace

now along with his body

all his dreams are melted into this land

I have dropped his ashes

in icy river water

he has become part of this soil

From Binning’s Punjabi/English poetry collection ‘No More Watno Dur’ (No More Away From Home), published 1995 by TSAR Publications in Toronto.

Considering Binning’s contributions to the development of Punjabi language and literature in Canada, the University of British Columbia (UBC) has organized a two-day conference (April 26-27, Vancouver 2008) on Punjabi literature to honour Sadhu Binning. From the line-up, it seems like an exciting event; thanks to Anne Murphy, a fellow faculty member of Sadhu at the UBC.

Fauzia Rafiq

‘No More Watno Dur’ by Sadhu Binning