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The Villa del Balbianello is a villa in the comune of Lenno (province of Como), a province in the north of the Lombardy region of Italy, overlooking Lake Como. It is located on the tip of the small wooded peninsula of Dosso d'Avedo on the western shore of the south-west branch of Lake Como, not far from the Isola Comacina and is famous for its elaborate terraced gardens.
A Franciscan monastery had existed on the tip of the peninsula of Dosso d'Avedo since the 13th century. The two towers which remain on the property are the remnants of the campanili of the monastery's church.
After failing in his attempts to buy the nearby Isola Comacina, Cardinal Angelo Maria Durini purchased this property in 1785. In 1787, he converted the monastery structure into a villa for use during the summer and added a loggia, which allowed viewers to obtain two different panoramas of the lake.
After the cardinal’s death in 1796, the villa passed to his nephew, Luigi Porro Lambertenghi. During his ownership, the villa became a center for republican activity and meetings, where Italian patriots and Carbonari met. Among Lambertenghi's guests at the villa was the writer Silvio Pellico, who tutored Lambertenghi's sons. In 1820, Pellico was arrested at the villa by the Austrian government and Lambertenghi was forced to move to Belgium, where he was supported by the Arconati-Visconti family. Lambertenghi subsequently sold the villa to his friend, Giuseppe Arconati Visconti, grandfather of Luchino Visconti.
Visconti made improvements to its gardens and the loggia. To this day the balustrade in front of the church bears the Visconti emblem of a serpent with a man in its mouth. During the period of Visconti ownership, the villa hosted politicians and writers Giovanni Berchet, Alessandro Manzoni, Giuseppe Giusti, as well as the artist Arnold Böcklin. The gradual decline of the family resulted in a neglect of the villa for more than 30 years.
Just prior to World War I American businessman Butler Ames saw the villa for the first time. He made an offer to purchase it from the Arconati Visconti family and was initially rejected. He kept returning with ever-larger cash offers, until in 1919 he was successful in obtaining ownership. Ames renovated the villa and its garden.
In 1974, Ames's heirs sold the villa to businessman and explorer Count Guido Monzino (leader of the first Italian expedition to climb Mount Everest). While Monzino left the exterior essentially unchanged he had the interior of the villa completely re-decorated, installing artifacts acquired on his expeditions as well as important pieces of English Georgian and French antique furniture from the 18th and 19th centuries, Beauvais tapestries, French boiseries and Oriental carpets. After the assassination of Aldo Moro in 1978 by the Red Brigade, Monzino became worried about his safety, and added a system of hidden passages, linking parts of the property.
Monzino died in 1988 and left the villa along with most of the Dosso d'Avedo and an endowment to pay for maintenance, to the Fondo Ambiente Italiano (FAI), the National Trust of Italy. Its grounds now form part of the Grandi Giardini Italiani. Today, the Villa del Balbianello is the most visited among the 52 FAI properties with over 135,000 visitors in 2019.
In November 2018 Indian movie star and Bollywood's famous couple Ranveer Singh and Deepika Padukone's wedding took place at the villa.
A number of feature films have used the villa for location shooting, including A Month by the Lake (1995), His Demise starring Paul Zukowski (2016 disaster movie), Casino Royale (2006). The villa was also used for the lake retreat scenes in Star Wars: Episode II Attack of the Clones (2002), with computer-generated imagery used in place of the building's true exterior.
Ang Laga De Re - Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela | Ranveer Singh, Deepika Padukone
www.rangooski.com/video/3225/ang-laga-de-re-goliyon-ki-ra...
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दोस्तों,
इस सूत्र में पेश करूँगा हिन्दुस्तान और पाकिस्तान के मशहूर शायरों के चंद शेर.....
मुझे इन शायरों के नाम तो नहीं पता,
मगर ये सारे शेर मुझे बहुत ही पसंद हैं.
आप भी २ या ४ लाइन के शेर इस सूत्र में रख कर सूत्र की सुन्दरता बढायें.....
Hindustan aur Pakistan ke mashoor shayaro ke chand sher pesh kiye jayenge, Urdu Shero Shayari padhne ke liye sahi jagah hai ye
mehfil-e-shayri me yaha aapko milenge hindi urdu ke shayaro ke ek se badh kar ek sher jaise Mohabbat Shayari , Romantic Shayari,
This page contains Urdu/Hindi Poetry of poets from India and Pakistan
01-04-2011, 03:30 PM
उसके होंठों पे कभी बददुआ नहीं होती ,
बस इक माँ है जो मुझसे कभी खफा नहीं होती.
01-04-2011, 03:32 PM
मौत आई तो क्या मैं मर जाऊँगा?
मैं तो इक दरिया हूँ, जो समंदर में मिल जाऊँगा.
01-04-2011, 03:35 PM
नाकामियों ने और भी सरकश बना दिया,
इतने हुए जलील, की खुददार हो गए...
01-04-2011, 03:38 PM
उसको रुखसत तो किया था, मुझे मालून न था.
सारा घर ले गया, छोड़ के जाने वाला.....
01-04-2011, 03:40 PM
सर पर चढ़कर बोल रहे हैं, पौधे जैसे लोग,
पेड़ बने खामोश खड़े हैं, कैसे-कैसे लोग.....
01-04-2011, 03:49 PM
जो चीज़ उन्होंने ख़त में लिखी थी, नहीं मिली.
ख़त हमको मिल गया है, तस्सली नहीं मिली.....
01-04-2011, 03:53 PM
अकेले बैठोगे, तो मसले जकड लेंगे.,
ज़रा सा वक़्त सही , दोस्तों के नाम करो.....
01-04-2011, 03:54 PM
ज़िन्दगी के मायने तो याद तुमको रह जायेंगे ,
अपनी कामयाबी में कुछ कमी भी रहने दो....
hsaxsena8
01-04-2011, 04:43 PM
मैंने उसका हाथ थमा था राह दिखने को,
अब ज़माने को दर्द हुआ तो मैं क्या करूँ ?
01-04-2011, 05:10 PM
किसी को मकां मिला,किसी के हिस्से में दुकां आई,
मैं घर में सबसे छोटा था,मेरे हिस्से में माँ आई.....
01-04-2011, 05:12 PM
मुझको थकने नहीं देता , ये ज़रुरत का पहाड़.
मेरे बच्चे मुझे बूढा होने नहीं देते......
01-04-2011, 05:14 PM
मैंने कल शब चाहतों की सब किताबें फाड़ दी,
सिर्फ एक कागज़ पर लफ्जे माँ रहने दिया .....
01-04-2011, 05:16 PM
गम बिछड़ने का नहीं करते खानाबदोश ,
वो तो वीराने बसाने का हुनर जानते हैं.......
01-04-2011, 05:18 PM
प्यार अपनों का मिटा देता है ,इंसान का वजूद ,
जिंदा रहना है तो गैरों की नज़र में रहिये.......
01-04-2011, 08:59 PM
रंजिश ही सही , दिल को दुखाने के लिए आ,
आ फिर से मुझे , छोड़ जाने के लिए आ.....
alvi
01-04-2011, 09:25 PM
जी एक से बड़कर एक शायरी मारी है आप ने मेरी तरफ से ये रहा
वो खुदगर्ज हो गए तो मै क्या करू
मुझे उनकी वफा भुलाई नही जाती
BHARAT KUMAR
02-04-2011, 07:41 AM
बहुत ही जबरदस्त संग्रह.. और भी लिखिए फुल मून जी
बेमिसाल.. खासतोर से माँ ..
बहुत दिल को छु गयी ये लाइनें
मैं भी कुछ पक्तियां डालना चाहूँगा,,, फुल मून जी कोई परेशानी तो नहीं?
man-vakil
02-04-2011, 09:06 AM
मिर्ज़ा ग़ालिब का एक शेर है पेश करता हूँ:
बड़े बेआबरू होकर तेरे कूचे से हम निकले..बहुत निकले मगर मेरे अरमान दिल से लेकिन कम निकले..
निकलना खुल्द( स्वर्ग) से आदम का सुनते आये थे, हुआ मालुम तब , तेरे कूचे से जब हम निकले..
man-vakil
02-04-2011, 09:08 AM
मिर्ज़ा ग़ालिब का एक शेर है पेश करता हूँ:
"दिल-इ-नादान तुझे हुआ क्या है..आखिर इस दर्द की दवा क्या है..
हमको उनसे से वफ़ा की उम्मीद ..जो नहीं जानते वफ़ा क्या है.."
lalit1234
02-04-2011, 09:49 AM
मिर्ज़ा ग़ालिब का एक शेर है पेश करता हूँ:
बड़े बेआबरू होकर तेरे कूचे से हम निकले..बहुत निकले मगर मेरे अरमान दिल से लेकिन कम निकले..
निकलना खुल्द( स्वर्ग) से आदम का सुनते आये थे, हुआ मालुम तब , तेरे कूचे से जब हम निकले..
मन जी ग़ालिब का ये शेर इस प्रकार है
" हज़ारों ख्वाहिशें ऐसी की हर ख्वाहिश पे दम निकले ,
बहुत निकले मेरे अरमां मगर फिर भी कम निकले !
डरे क्यूँ मेरा कातिल ? क्या रहेगा उसकी गर्दन पर ,
वो खूँ जो चश्मेतर से उम्रभर यूँ दमबदम निकले !
निकलना खुल्द से आदम का सुनते आये थे लेकिन,
बहुत बेआबरू होकर तेरे कुचे से हम निकले !!""
ग़ालिब की एक शायरी हम भी पेश करते हैं
" हर एक बात पे कहते हो तुम की तू क्या है,
तुम्ही कहो की ये अंदाज-ए-गुफ्तगुं क्या है!
जला है जिस्म जहाँ , दिल भी जल गया होगा ,
कुरेदते हो जो अब राख जुस्तजूं क्या है!
रंगों में दोड़ने फिरने के, हम नहीं कायल ,
जब आँख ही से ना टपका तो लहू क्या है !
वो चीज़ जिसके लिए हो हमको हो बहिश्त ( स्वर्ग) अज़ीज़
सिवाए बादा-ए-गुल्फामें(सुन्दर) मुश्कबू (कस्तूरी या सुगंध ) क्या है !!"
02-04-2011, 08:43 PM
बहुत ही जबरदस्त संग्रह.. और भी लिखिए फुल मून जी
बेमिसाल.. खासतोर से माँ ..
बहुत दिल को छु गयी ये लाइनें
मैं भी कुछ पक्तियां डालना चाहूँगा,,, फुल मून जी कोई परेशानी तो नहीं?
don भाई,
अगर आपके पास भी इन महान शायरों के शेर हैं,तो यहाँ अवश्य पोस्ट करें,
मैंने ये सूत्र बनाया ही इसीलिए है ताकि मैं भी अपने संग्रह में कुछ और बेहतरीन शेरों को जोड़ सकूँ,
जो की मुझे आप जैसे मित्रों से ही प्राप्त होंगे.
02-04-2011, 08:44 PM
प्यार,,,,प्यार भी कभी पूरा होता है?
इसका तो पहला अक्षर ही अधूरा होता है.
02-04-2011, 08:47 PM
है जमाने की बुराई हममे,
हम जमाने को बुरा कहते हैं.
जो समझ में ना किसी के आये,
हम उसी को खुदा कहते हैं......
02-04-2011, 08:50 PM
ठहरी है तो इक चेहरे पे ठहरी रही है बरसों,
भटकी है तो फिर आँख भटकती ही रही है.......
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
02-04-2011, 09:09 PM
उलझा दिया दीमक ने ये कैसे शरारत की
कागज तो नहीं चाटा ,तहरीर मिटा दी है
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
02-04-2011, 09:12 PM
मार ही डाले जो बेमौत, ये दुनिया वाले
हम जो जिन्दा हैं तो जीने का हुनर रखते हैं /
03-04-2011, 01:22 PM
कही से सुना था उसने, की जीवन काँटों भरा होता है,
तब से सदा वो दूसरों के जीवन में कांटे बोता है.....
03-04-2011, 01:24 PM
दिल के फफोले जल उठे , सीने के दाग से,
इस घर को आग लग गयी, घर के चिराग से.....
03-04-2011, 01:26 PM
कौन कहता ही की छेद आसमां में हो नहीं सकता,
इक पत्थर तो तबियत से उछालो यारों.......
04-04-2011, 03:34 PM
मेहरबान होकर बुला लो मुझे जिस वक़्त,
मैं गया वक़्त नहीं की फिर आ भी ना सकूँ.....
04-04-2011, 03:37 PM
रस्ते को भी दे दोष , आँखें भी कर लाल,
चप्पल में जो कील है , पहले उसे निकाल.....
04-04-2011, 03:39 PM
कोई इसके साथ है , कोई उसके साथ है ,
देखना ये चाहिए , मैदान किसके हाथ है.....
05-04-2011, 10:16 PM
काश बनाने वाले ने दिल कांच के बनाये होते,
तोड़ने वाले के हाथ में ज़ख्म तो आये होते.....:tuta-dil:
05-04-2011, 10:19 PM
खुद को पढता हूँ, फिर छोड़ देता हूँ,
रोज़ ज़िन्दगी का एक हर्फ़ मोड़ देता हूँ...
05-04-2011, 10:26 PM
मंज़ूर नहीं किसी को ख़ाक में मिलना,
आंसू भी लरज़ता हुआ आँख से गिरता है.....
06-04-2011, 05:55 PM
दुश्मनी का सफ़र एक कदम दो कदम,
तुम भी थक जाओगे, हम भी थक जाएंगे.....
06-04-2011, 05:58 PM
नन्हे बच्चों ने छू लिया चाँद को,
बूढ़े बाबा कहानी ही सुनाते रह गए..... ..
punjaban rajji kaur
07-04-2011, 08:19 AM
waah waah
waah waah
08-04-2011, 11:03 PM
जाती है धूप उजले परों को समेट के,
ज़ख्मों को अब गिनूंगा मैं बिस्तर पे लेट के.....
08-04-2011, 11:11 PM
कांच की गुडिया ताक में कब तक सजाये रखेंगे,
आज नहीं तो कल टूटेगा, जिसका नाम खिलौना है.....
08-04-2011, 11:12 PM
दिल की ना रह दिल में, ये कहानी कह लो,
चाहे दो हर्फ़ लिखो,चाहे जबानी कह लो,
मैंने मरने की दुआ मांगी,जो पूरी ना हुयी,
बस इसी को मेरे जीने की कहानी कह लो.......
08-04-2011, 11:14 PM
दुश्मनों के साथ मेरे दोस्त भी आज़ाद है,
देखना है , फेंकता है मुझ पर पहला तीर कौन......
09-04-2011, 06:42 PM
मैंने कहा कभी सपनो में भी शक्ल ना मुझको दिखाई,
उसने कहा, मुझ बिन भला तुझको नींद ही कैसे आई?
09-04-2011, 06:43 PM
मुझ में तुझ में फर्क नहीं,मुझ में तुझ में फर्क है ये ,
तू दुनिया पर हँसता है,दुनिया मुझ पर हंसती है.....
09-04-2011, 06:45 PM
तुमको गैरों से कब फुर्सत,
हम अपने गम से कब खाली,
चलो बस हो चुका मिलना,
ना तुम खाली ,ना हम खाली.....
09-04-2011, 06:49 PM
ना समझने की ये बातें हैं, ना समझाने की,
ज़िन्दगी उचटी हुयी नींद है दीवाने की......
10-04-2011, 12:04 PM
दिल मुझे तितली का टूटा हुआ पर लगता है,
अब तेरा नाम भी लिखते हुए डर लगता है.....
10-04-2011, 12:05 PM
ज़िन्दगी से जो भी मिले , सीने से लगा लो,
गम को सिक्के की तरह उछाला नहीं करते......
10-04-2011, 12:07 PM
साहिल से सकूँ से किसे इनकार है लेकिन,
तूफ़ान से लड़ने में मज़ा ही कुछ और है.....
10-04-2011, 12:08 PM
मेरे गम ने होश उनके भी खो दिए,
वो समझाते-सम्झाते खुद ही रो दिए.....
Ranveer
10-04-2011, 01:11 PM
सताइशगर है ज़ाहिद इस क़दर जिस बाग़े-रिज्वॉ का,
वह इक गुलदस्तः है हम बेख़ुदों के ताक़े-निसियाँ का ।
मतलब जिस ज़ाहिद (परहेज़गार, संयमी) जिस स्वर्गोद्यान की इतनी प्रशंसा करता है और हमें प्रलोभन देकर उधर आकर्षित करना चाहता है, हमारे-जैसे बेख़ुद लोग उसकी परवाह भी नहीं करते, उसे रखकर भूल जाते हैं ।
इसमें ताक़े-निसियाँ का अर्थ वह ताक जिस पर कुछ रखकर भूल जाएँ । प्रायः गुलदस्ता ताक़ में ही सजाया जाता है ।
Ranveer
10-04-2011, 01:14 PM
ख़ामोशी में निहाँ खूँगश्तः लाखों आरजुएँ हैं,
चिराग़े-मुर्दः हूँ मैं बेज़बाँ गोरे गरीबाँ का ।
"जिस प्रकार परदेसियों और पथिकों की क़ब्रों के बुझे हुए दीपक उनकी लाखों कामनाओं को अपने कलेजे में छिपाए होते हैं वैसे ही मेरे मौन में भी रक्तरंजित लाखों कामनाएँ निहित है ।" यहाँ चिराग़े-मुर्दः का मतलब बुझा हुआ या मौन दीपक से है ।
Ranveer
10-04-2011, 01:19 PM
कुछ खटकता था मेरे सीने में लेकिन आख़िर,
जिसको दिल कहते थे सो तीर का पैकाँ निकला ।
अर्थात "मेरे सीने में कुछ खटकता तो था । मैं उसे अपना दिल समझ रहा था पर आख़िर देखा गया तो वह तीर का पैकाँ (नोक) निकला । आँखों के वाण से दिल तो बिंधता ही है, वह तो एक सामान्य सी बात है पर यहाँ वाण ही दिल बन गया है ।
John69
10-04-2011, 03:18 PM
जॉन (ग़ालिब) छुटी शराब पर अब भी कभी-कभी,
पीता हूँ रोज-ऐ-अब्र-ओ-शब्-ऐ-माहताब में....................
11-04-2011, 05:48 PM
जनम मरण का साथ था जिनका, उन्हें भी हमसे बैर,
वापिस ले चल अब तो हमे, हो गयी जग की सैर....
11-04-2011, 05:49 PM
अपने ही साए में था, मैं शायद छुपा हुआ,
जब खुद ही हट गया, तो कही रास्ता मिला.....
11-04-2011, 05:51 PM
ना समझने की ये बातें हैं, ना समझाने की,
ज़िन्दगी उचटती हुयी नींद है दीवाने की....
11-04-2011, 05:52 PM
आज आगोश में था और कोई ,
देर तक हम तुझे न भुला सके .....
11-04-2011, 05:54 PM
अचानक चौंक उठा हूँ , जिस दम पड़ी है आँख ,
आये तुम आज भूली हुयी याद की तरह......
ras
11-04-2011, 05:54 PM
फूल्मून भाई हम आपका विश्व सिनेमा वाले section में कब से वेट कर रहे हैं और आप यहाँ हैं. कुछ निगाहें करम इधर भी जी, हम आपके साइलेंट फेन हैं.
15-04-2011, 12:41 PM
जिंदगी में खूब कमाया , क्या हीरे क्या मोती ,
क्या करूँ मगर कफ़न में जेबें नहीं होती......
15-04-2011, 12:43 PM
जवानी जाती रही और हमें पता भी ना चला ,
उसी को ढूंढ रहे हैं , कमर झुकाए हुए,,,,
16-04-2011, 06:53 PM
वो अपने आप को बेहतर शुमार करता है ,
अजीब शख्स है , अपना ही शिकार करता है.....
16-04-2011, 06:54 PM
ले के उस पार ना जायेगी जुदा राह कोई ,
भीड़ के साथ ही दलदल में उतरना होगा.....
16-04-2011, 06:56 PM
अँधेरा कब्र का इतने में ही खुश है ,
की जलता है कोई ऊपर दिया तो...
16-04-2011, 06:57 PM
बस इतनी सी बात पे दुनिया गिनती है नादानों में ,
प्यार की गर्मी ढूंढ रहा हूँ , बर्फीली चट्टानों में....
marwariladka
17-04-2011, 12:12 AM
फूल मून जी..आप आये बहार ई..कृपया जरी रखिये....
17-04-2011, 08:01 PM
बात कम कीजिये ,जहालत छुपाते रहिये,
अजनबी दुनिया है , दोस्त बनाते रहिया ,
दिल मिले ना मिले , हाथ मिलाते रहिये...
17-04-2011, 08:08 PM
सफ़र में मुश्किलें आयें, तो जुर्रत और बढती है ,
कोई जब रास्ता रोके , तो हिम्मत और बढती है....
17-04-2011, 08:10 PM
हादसों की ज़द में हैं तो मुस्कुराना छोड़ दें ,
जलजलों के खौफ से क्या घर बनाना छोड़ दें ??/
raj_mishra121
18-04-2011, 02:21 PM
वो झूद भी बोल रहा था बड़े सलीके से
मैं एइत्बार ना करता तो क्या क्या करता
raj_mishra121
18-04-2011, 02:42 PM
लाख तलवारे बढ़ी आती हों गर्दन की तरफ
सर झुकना नहीं आता तो झुकाए कैसे
raj_mishra121
18-04-2011, 02:43 PM
मैं भी उसे खोने का हुनर सीख न पाया
उसको भी मुझे छौड के जाना नहीं आता
raj_mishra121
18-04-2011, 02:51 PM
सहारा लेना ही पड़ता है मुझको दरिया का
मैं इक कतरा हूँ तनहा तो बह नहीं सकता
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 03:06 PM
इस जहां में कब किसी का दर्द अपनाते हैं लोग ,
रुख हवा का देख कर अक्सर बदल जाते हैं लोग
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 03:09 PM
उजाले में शमा जलाने से क्या फायदा
वक्त गुजरने के बाद पछताने से क्यां फायदा
18-04-2011, 03:33 PM
राज जी और साजिद जी,
आप दोनों के पास बेहतरीन शेरों का संकलन है.
कृपया ऐसे ही और शेर पेश करते रहें.
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 04:02 PM
दिल में अरमान बहुत हैं सजाऊँ कैसे,
तेरी याद बहुत आये ,भुलाऊँ कैसे
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 04:03 PM
तेरा मिलना लाख खुशी की बात सही
पर तुझसे मिलके ,उदास रहते हैं
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 04:06 PM
खत पे खत हमने भेजे पर जवाब आता नहीं
कौन सी ऐसी खता हुयी मुझ को याद आता नहीं
Nisha.Patel
18-04-2011, 04:07 PM
कहाँ से आ गयी दुनिया कहाँ, मगर देखो,
कहाँ-कहाँ से अभी कारवाँ गुज़रता है।
हम वहाँ हैं जहाँ अब अपने सिवा,
एक भी आदमी बहुत है मियाँ।
टुकड़े-टुकड़े दिन बीता,
धज्जी-धज्जी रात मिली।
जिसका जितना आंचल था,
उतनी ही सौग़ात मिली।।
जब चाहा दिल को समझें,
हंसने की आवाज़ सुनी।
जैसे कोई कहता हो, लो
फिर तुमको अब मात मिली।।
बातें कैसी ? घातें क्या ?
चलते रहना आठ पहर।
दिल-सा साथी जब पाया,
बेचैनी भी साथ मिली।।
उजाले अपनी यादों के हमारे साथ रहने दो
न जाने किस गली में ज़िन्दगी की शाम हो जाये
हमने इक शाम चराग़ों से सजा रक्खी है
शर्त लोगों ने हवाओं से लगा रक्खी है
दिया ख़ामोश है लेकिन किसी का दिल तो जलता है
चले आओ जहाँ तक रौशनी मालूम होती है
मुझसे मत जी को लगाओ कि नहीं रहने का
मैं मुसाफिर हूँ कोई दिन को चला जाऊँगा
आज सोचा तो आँसू भर आये
मुद्दतें हो गईं मुस्कराये
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 04:08 PM
दोस्तों ने हर कदम पे रुसवा किया
तब से मुझे दुश्मनों की दुश्मनी अच्छी लगी
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 04:09 PM
आईना टूट भी जाए तो कोई बात नहीं
लेकिन दिल न टूटे ये बिकते नहीं बाजारों में
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 04:11 PM
ऐ दोस्त ,मेरी दोस्ती में क्या कमी है ,
क्यूँ दिल में गम और पलकों में नमी है
Nisha.Patel
18-04-2011, 04:18 PM
'परिंदे भी नहीं रहते पराये आशियानों में,
हमने जिंदगी गुजारी है किराये के मकानों में।'
एक काँच ने पत्थर से मोहब्बत करली !
टकरा कर उससे अपनी जिंदगी चकनाचूर करली !!
काँच की दीवानगी तो देखिए......!
अपने हजारो टुकरो में भी उसकी तस्वीर भरली !!
रुला कर वो हमें खुश हो जायेंगे !
साथ में न सही दूर जाके मुस्कुरायेंगे !!
दुवा हैं खुदा से उनको दर्द न देना !
हम तो सह गए पर वो टूट जायेंगे !!
उनकी याद में जलना अजीब लगता हैं !
धीरे - धीरे से पिघलना अजीब लगता हैं !!
सारी दुनियाँ के बदलने से मुझे फर्क नहीं परता !
बस कुछ अपनों का बदलना अजीब लगता हैं !!
मेहनत लगती हैं सपनो को हकीकत बनाने में !
होसला लगता हैं बुलंदियों को पाने में .....!!
अरसा लगता हैं एक जिंदगी बनाने में !
जिंदगी भी कम पर जाती हैं एक सच्चा दोस्त पाने में !!
हर खामौशी में दो बात होती हैं !
हर दिल में एक याद होती हैं !!
आपको पता हो या न हो ...!
आपकी ख़ुशी के लिए रोज हमारी फरियाद होती हैं !!
रूठे हुए को मनाना जिंदगी हैं !
दुसरो को हँसाना जिंदगी हैं !!
कोई जीत कर खुश हुवा तो क्या हुवा !
सब कुछ हार कर मुश्कुराना जिंदगी हैं !!
मुमकिन नहीं इस प्यार को भुला पाना !
मुमकिन नहीं आपको यादों से मिटा पाना !!
आप एक कीमती तोहफा हो दोस्ती का !
मुमकिन नहीं इस तोहफे की किम्मत चूका पाना !!
Nisha.Patel
18-04-2011, 04:26 PM
बहुत ही अच्छा सूत्र हे फूल्मून जी
18-04-2011, 04:39 PM
बहुत ही अच्छा सूत्र हे फूल्मून जी
निशा जी,
बहुत ही अच्छे शेर पेश किये आपने,सीधे दिल को छूते हैं.
इन्हें मैं अपने personal collection में संभाल के रख लूँगा.
आभार के साथ reputation स्वीकार करें.
18-04-2011, 04:43 PM
तेरा मिलना लाख खुशी की बात सही
पर तुझसे मिलके ,उदास रहते हैं
साजिद जी,
आपके इस कवि ह्रदय के लिए मेरी तरफ से reputation .....
Nisha.Patel
18-04-2011, 04:50 PM
शुक्रिया फूल्मून जी
आभार
निशा जी,
बहुत ही अच्छे शेर पेश किये आपने,सीधे दिल को छूते हैं.
इन्हें मैं अपने personal collection में संभाल के रख लूँगा.
आभार के साथ reputation स्वीकार करें.
Nisha.Patel
18-04-2011, 04:59 PM
साजिद जी आप ऐसे ही इस सूत्र मैं भी योगदान देते रहे और बाकि सभी को भी मेरी तरफ से सुभकामनाये
धन्यवाद
Cool
18-04-2011, 06:25 PM
MAT PUCH KE KYA HAAL HAI TERA MERE AAGE.
MAT PUCH KE KYA HAAL HAI TERA MERE AAGE.
YE DEKH KE KYA RANG HAI MERA TERE AAGE.
SUNIL1107
18-04-2011, 08:22 PM
तेरे वादे पर जिये हम, तो यह जान, झूठ जाना,
कि ख़ुशी से मर न जाते, अगर एतबार होता !
SUNIL1107
18-04-2011, 08:25 PM
बिजली सी कौंद गयी आँखों के आगे, तो क्या,
बात करते कि मैं लब-तश्नऐ-तक़री भी था !
"वह आकर और एक झलक-सी दिखलाकर ग़ायब हो गए । आँखों के आगे एक बिजली-सी कौंद गयी । पर मैं तो उनसे बातचीत का प्यासा था; दो-एक बातें भी कर लेते तो कितना अच्छा होता ।"
18-04-2011, 09:42 PM
हर दर्द को दफ़न कर गहराई में कहीं ,
दो पल के लिए सब कुछ भुलाया जाए.
रोने के लिए घर में कोने बहुत से हैं ,
आज महफ़िल में चलो सब को हंसाया जाए.....
18-04-2011, 09:45 PM
टूटी टूटी सी हर एक आस लगे ,
ज़िन्दगी अब मुझे राम का वनवास लगे .....
18-04-2011, 09:46 PM
रिश्तेदारी भी टेलीफ़ोन है आज ,
सिक्के डालो, तो बात होती है.....
18-04-2011, 09:48 PM
क्या पता था, दोस्त ऐसे भी दगा दे जाएगा ,
अपने दुश्मन को मेरे घर का पता दे जाएगा.....
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 09:56 PM
कभी झुकने की तमन्ना कभी कड़वा लहजा
अपनी उलझी हुयी आदतों पे रोना आया
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 09:58 PM
मार ही डाले जो बेमौत ये दुनिया वाले
हम जो जिंदा हैं तो जीने का हुनर रखते हैं
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 10:00 PM
ज़िंदगी तू सदा करती है मुझसे मजाक
हम भी देख्नेगे ज़रा तुझसे शरारत कर के
18-04-2011, 10:02 PM
अरमां तमाम उम्र के सीने में दफ़न हैं....
हम चलते फिरते लोग मजारों से कम नहीं.....
18-04-2011, 10:04 PM
मार ही डाले जो बेमौत ये दुनिया वाले
हम जो जिंदा हैं तो जीने का हुनर रखते हैं
साजिद भाई,
कमाल की धार है आपके इन शेरों में.:salut:
माफ़ करें दोबारा आप को reputation नहीं दे पा रहा हूँ.
Sajid_Gunahgaar-
18-04-2011, 10:19 PM
साजिद भाई,
कमाल की धार है आपके इन शेरों में.:salut:
माफ़ करें दोबारा आप को reputation नहीं दे पा रहा हूँ.
कोई बात नहीं राकेश भाई
वैसे भी इन दुखों से दूर ही रहता हूँ मै
आपके सहयोग के लिए धन्यवाद
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:32 AM
तुम्हे तो इल्म है, क्या खूब वो ज़माना था!
हमारे पास तुम्हारा भी आना-जाना था!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:32 AM
तुम्हे तो इल्म है, क्या खूब वो ज़माना था!
हमारे पास तुम्हारा भी आना-जाना था!
तुझे खबर भी है इसकी ओ रूठने वाले,
तुम्हारा प्यार ही मेरा कीमती खजाना था!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:33 AM
तुम्हे तो इल्म है, क्या खूब वो ज़माना था!
हमारे पास तुम्हारा भी आना-जाना था!
तुझे खबर भी है इसकी ओ रूठने वाले,
तुम्हारा प्यार ही मेरा कीमती खजाना था!
तुम्हारी रात का नुकसान इसमें क्या होता,
तुम्हे तो आके मेरा होसला बढ़ाना था!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:34 AM
तुम्हे तो इल्म है, क्या खूब वो ज़माना था!
हमारे पास तुम्हारा भी आना-जाना था!
तुझे खबर भी है इसकी ओ रूठने वाले,
तुम्हारा प्यार ही मेरा कीमती खजाना था!
तुम्हारी रात का नुकसान इसमें क्या होता,
तुम्हे तो आके मेरा होसला बढ़ाना था!
तमाम बातें ये उजड़ा चमन बता देगा,
इसी चमन में कभी अपना आशियाना था!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:36 AM
नकाब रुख से हटाओ,के रात जाती है!
कोई तो बात सुनाओ, के रात जाती है!
जो मैकदे में नहीं माय तो क्या हुआ,
हमें नज़र से पिलाओ, के रात जाती है!
वो एक शब् के लिए मेरे घर पे आये हैं,
सितारे तोड़ के लाओ, के रात जाती है!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:38 AM
धोखा न देना, तुझ पे ऐतबार बहुत है!
ये दिल तेरी चाहत का तलबगार बहुत है!
तेरी सूरत न देखें , तो दिखाई कुछ नहीं देता,,
हम क्या करें के तुझ से हमें प्यार बहुत है!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:40 AM
आरज़ू ये है कि उनकी हर नज़र देखा करें!
वो ही अपने सामने हों, हम जिधर देखा करें!
इक तरफ हो सारी दुनिया, इक तरफ सूरत तेरी;
हम तुझे दुनिया से होकर बेखबर देखा करें !
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:41 AM
रात घिरे तक घायल नगमें, करते हैं एलान यहाँ!
ये दुनिया है संग-दिलों कि, कोई नहीं इंसान यहाँ!
प्यार भीख में भी मांगो तो कोई प्यार न डाले झोली में;
बिन मांगे मिल जाते हैं, रुसवाई के सामान यहाँ!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:48 AM
आज के दौर में समाज में फैली अनेक कुरीतियों में से एक दहेज़ और नारी-शोषण पर चाँद पक्तियां हैं.. आशा है कि इस सूत्र में विचरण करने वाले सभी गणमान्य सदस्यों को पसंद आएगी!
एक-एक सांस उसके लिए कत्लगाह थी!
उसका गुनाह ये था कि वो बेगुनाह थी!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:49 AM
आज के दौर में समाज में फैली अनेक कुरीतियों में से एक दहेज़ और नारी-शोषण पर चाँद पक्तियां हैं.. आशा है कि इस सूत्र में विचरण करने वाले सभी गणमान्य सदस्यों को पसंद आएगी!
एक-एक सांस उसके लिए कत्लगाह थी!
उसका गुनाह ये था कि वो बेगुनाह थी!
वो एक मिटी हुई सी इबारत बनी रही ,
चेहरा खुली किताब था, किस्मत सियाह थी!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:51 AM
आज के दौर में समाज में फैली अनेक कुरीतियों में से एक दहेज़ और नारी-शोषण पर चाँद पक्तियां हैं.. आशा है कि इस सूत्र में विचरण करने वाले सभी गणमान्य सदस्यों को पसंद आएगी!
एक-एक सांस उसके लिए कत्लगाह थी!
उसका गुनाह ये था कि वो बेगुनाह थी!
वो एक मिटी हुई सी इबारत बनी रही ,
चेहरा खुली किताब था, किस्मत सियाह थी!
शेहनाइयां उसे भी बुलाती रही मगर,
शेहनाइयां-उसे भी बुलाती रही मगर,
हर मोड़ पर दहेज़ की कुर्बान्गाह थी!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:53 AM
आज के दौर में समाज में फैली अनेक कुरीतियों में से एक दहेज़ और नारी-शोषण पर चाँद पक्तियां हैं.. आशा है कि इस सूत्र में विचरण करने वाले सभी गणमान्य सदस्यों को पसंद आएगी!
एक-एक सांस उसके लिए कत्लगाह थी!
उसका गुनाह ये था कि वो बेगुनाह थी!
वो एक मिटी हुई सी इबारत बनी रही ,
चेहरा खुली किताब था, किस्मत सियाह थी!
शेहनाइयां उसे भी बुलाती रही मगर,
शेहनाइयां-उसे भी बुलाती रही मगर,
हर मोड़ पर दहेज़ की कुर्बान्गाह थी!
और वो चाहती थी कि रूह उसे सौंप दे मगर,
वो चाहती थी कि रूह उसे सौंप दे मगर,
उस आदमी की सिर्फ बदन पर निगाह थी!
BHARAT KUMAR
19-04-2011, 05:54 AM
अच्छा सूत्र है दोस्तों! इसमें रोजाना कुछ न कुछ अच्छा और सर्वोत्तम डालते रहना!
raj_mishra121
19-04-2011, 12:33 PM
अपनी सूरत से जो जाहिर है छुपाये कैसे
तेरी मर्जी के मुताबिक नज़र आये कैसे
raj_mishra121
19-04-2011, 12:37 PM
जहा रहेगा वही रोशनी लुटायेगा
किसी चिराग का अपना माकन नहीं होता
19-04-2011, 12:41 PM
अपनी सूरत से जो जाहिर है छुपाये कैसे
तेरी मर्जी के मुताबिक नज़र आये कैसे
बेहतरीन शायरियां पढने को मिल रही हैं,इस सूत्र में.
राज जी, आपकी और प्रविष्टियों का इंतज़ार रहेगा,.
raj_mishra121
19-04-2011, 12:43 PM
ताल्लुकात कभी एक से नहीं रखते
उसे गँवा के भी जीने का हौशला रखना
जब अपने ही लोग आयेंगे लूटने के लिए
तो दोस्ती का तकाजा है घर खुलना रखना
raj_mishra121
19-04-2011, 12:46 PM
वो मेरे घर नहीं आता मैं उसके घर नहीं जाता
मगर इन एहतियातो से ताल्लुक मर नहीं जाता
raj_mishra121
19-04-2011, 12:49 PM
मुहब्बत के ये आंशु है इन्हें आँखों में रहने दो
शरीफों के घरों का मशला बाहर नहीं जाता
raj_mishra121
19-04-2011, 12:55 PM
मुहब्बत के दिनों की यही खराबी है
यह रूठ जाये तो फिर लौट कर नहीं आते
खुसी की आंख में आंशु की भी जगह रखना
बुरे ज़माने किसी से पूछ कर नहीं आते
raj_mishra121
19-04-2011, 01:05 PM
वो प्यार जिसके लिए हमने क्या गवां न दिया
उसी ने बच के निकलने का रास्ता न दिया
जब एक बार जला ली हाथेलीया अपनी
तो फिर खुदा ने उस हाथ में दिया न दिया
जबान से दिल के सभी फैसले नहीं होते
उसे भुलाने को कहते तो थे पर भुला न दिया
raj_mishra121
19-04-2011, 01:13 PM
मार ही डाले जो बेमौत ये दुनिया वाले
हम जो जिंदा हैं तो जीने का हुनर रखते हैं
बहुत खूब
Kamal Ji
19-04-2011, 02:03 PM
मार ही डाले जो बेमौत ये दुनिया वाले
हम जो जिंदा हैं तो जीने का हुनर रखते हैं
बहुत खूब
Nisha.Patel
19-04-2011, 05:48 PM
अब भी कुछ नहीं बिगड़ा प्यारे पता करो लोहारों का
धार गिराना काम नहीं है लोहे पर सोनारों का
अब तो मजहब कोई ऐसा चलाया जाए
जिसमें इंसान को इंसान बनाया जाए
इस जहाँ में प्यार महके जिंदगी बाकी रहे
ये दुआ मांगो दिलों में रोशनी बाकी रहे
अबके सावन में शरारत ये मेरे साथ हुई
मेरा घर छोड़कर कुल शहर में बरसात हुई
अपने खेतों से बिछड़ने की सज़ा पाता हूं
अब मैं राशन की क़तारों में नज़र आता हूं
आदमी आदमी को क्या देगा, जो भी देगा वही खुदा देगा
जिंदगी को क़रीब से देखो, इसका चेहरा तुम्हें रुला देगा
सब कुछ झूठ है लेकिन फिर भी बिलकुल सच्चा लगता है
जानबूझकर धोखा खाना कितना अच्छा लगता है
:tiranga:
19-04-2011, 07:43 PM
निशा जी,
ये सूत्र मैंने बेहतरीन शेरों को एकत्र करने के लिए शुरू किया था,
जिसका लक्ष्य अब पूरा होता दिख रहा है.
आपके लिए एक बार फिर से.....:salut::salut:
19-04-2011, 07:47 PM
जो तुझको जिद है ,तो आगे तुम ही निकल जाओ ,
हम अपने पाँव में कांटा कोई चुभो लेंगे.....
Nisha.Patel
19-04-2011, 07:54 PM
निशा जी,
ये सूत्र मैंने बेहतरीन शेरों को एकत्र करने के लिए शुरू किया था,
जिसका लक्ष्य अब पूरा होता दिख रहा है.
आपके लिए एक बार फिर से.....:salut::salut:
आपका स्वागत हे
MALLIKA
19-04-2011, 08:10 PM
दोस्तों,
इस सूत्र में पेश करूँगा हिन्दुस्तान और पाकिस्तान के मशहूर शायरों के चंद शेर.....
मुझे इन शायरों के नाम तो नहीं पता,
मगर ये सारे शेर मुझे बहुत ही पसंद हैं.
आप भी २ या ४ लाइन के शेर इस सूत्र में रख कर सूत्र की सुन्दरता बढायें.....
मेरी निगाहों ने छेड़ा था ,
एक दिन नगमा प्यार का !
उसके बदन से,
अभी तक सदाए आती है !
कभी हक में रहे थे,
मेरे गुलुश्फा-इशरत !
अब उन लबो पर,
फरकत बददुआए आती है !
20-04-2011, 12:11 PM
अखियाँ दी लाली पई है दसदी ,
रोए तुस्सी वी हो , ते रोये अस्सी वी हाँ रात भर.....
20-04-2011, 12:17 PM
अबके हम बिछड़े ,तो ख्यालों में ही मिलें ,
जैसे सूखे हुए फूल , किताबों में मिलें....
20-04-2011, 12:18 PM
नहीं मोहताज़ जेवर का, जिसे खूबी खुदा ने दी ,
की उसको बदनुमा लगता है , जैसे चाँद को गहना.....
Ranveer
20-04-2011, 02:13 PM
फूल्मून जी
कुछ लोगों को शेर समझ में नहीं आते इसीलिए मै उनके अर्थ के साथ प्रस्तुत करता रहूंगा
आशा करता हूँ की आपके सूत्र में मुझे भी दो चार महान शायरों के शेर डालने की इजाज़त होगी
ग़ालिब का एक शेर है
तेरे वादे पर जिए हम ,तो ये जान छूट जाना
की खुशी से मर जाते , अगर ऐतबार होता
अर्थ है
ऐ दोस्त ,तू मुझे ज़िंदा देखकर यह न समझ की मैंने तेरे वादे पर ऐतबार किया था ..अगर कहीं मैंने तेरा ऐतबार किया होता तो ख़ुशी के मारे मर गया होता ...ज़िंदा रहना ही इस बात का सबूत है की मुझे तेरे वादे पर विश्वाश नहीं है
Nisha.Patel
20-04-2011, 02:24 PM
दिल का कोई सौदा नहीं होता
जिस पर आता उसी का होता
चलते है जो जीवन मे साथ
निभाते हैं हर समय
चाहे न चलते हों राह पर हाथ में डालकर हाथ अपने मन की आंखें बंद कर लो
नींद स्वयं ही आ जाती है
जो संभाला कोई ख्याल तो
फिर गायब हो जाती है
सोने से मिला सुख नहीं मिलता
जिसके लिये बनी है रात
गीत-संगीत के तोहफों से
बिखरी पड़ी है दुनियां
अपने कानों से मीठी आवाज सुनने के लिये
क्या किसी से शब्द और आवाज मांगना
इस जीवन में किससे आशा
और किससे निराशा
जिनसे उम्मीद करोगे
बनायेंगे तमाशा
जीवन को जिंदा दिलों की तरह जियो
जब तक न छोड़े अपना साथ
Nisha.Patel
20-04-2011, 02:27 PM
१) सुर्ख लबों पेम जो तेरा नाम आया हैं,
नर्म आँखों से जो यादें बहीं हैं,
दिल झूमकर बस गा रहा हैं,
मेरे मन में बस एक तूहीं हैं...
२) बस चाँद को देखना हमें गवारा नहीं,
इन आँखों को तो तेरा इंतजार हैं,
चांदनी रात अब हमें लूभाती नहीं,
तेरा साथ अगर दुश्वार हैं...
३) किसी का नाम लबों पर आना इकरार नहीं होता,
प्यार का इजहार ही बस मंजूर नहीं होता,
किसी के याद से जबतक दिल बेकरार नहीं होता,
जान मेरी तबतक यह प्यार नहीं होता...
४) दिल की मजबूरियाँ उन्हें बता न सकें,
वो ख़ुद भी तो यें समझ न सकें,
और फासला बढ़ता ही गया,
हम ख़ुद होकर उसे मिटा न सकें...
५) दिल की तनहाईयों में आपका साथ पाया, और हम आपकें दीवानें हो गयें,
सोचतें हैं अब इस दुनिया में, कितनीं शमाएं, कितनें परवानें हो गयें,
शमा और परवानेंका साथ तो, जनम-जनम का बंधन हैं,
हम और आप क्या अलग हैं, जीवन आपको अर्पण हैं...
Nisha.Patel
20-04-2011, 02:30 PM
जनाजा रोककर वो मेरे से इस अन्दाज़ मे बोले,
गली छोड्ने को कही थी हमने तुमने दुनियां छोड दी।
जो गिर गया उसे और क्यों गिराते हो,
जलाकर आशियाना उसी की राख उड़ाते हो ।
गुज़रे है आज इश्*क के उस मुकाम से,
नफरत सी हो गयी है मोहब्बत के नाम से ।
जब जुबां खामोशी होती है नज़र से काम होता है,
ऐसे माहौल का ही शायद मोहब्बत नाम होता है।
वो फूल जिस पर ज्यादा निखार होते हैं,
किसी के दस्त हवस का शिकार होते हैं ।
Nisha.Patel
20-04-2011, 02:32 PM
मै जिसके हाथ मे एक फूल दे कर आया था,
उसी के हाथ का पत्थर मेरी तलाश मे है ।
यूं तो मंसूर बने फिरते हैं कुछ लोग,
होश उड जाते हैं जब सिर का सवाल आता है ।
मुझे तो होश नही, तुमको खबर हो शायद ,
लोग कहते है कि तुम ने मुझ को बर्बाद कर दिया ।
देखिए गौर से रुक कर किसी चौराहे पर,
जिंदगी लोग लिए फिरते हैं लाशों के तरह ।
इस नगर मे लोग फिरते है मुखौटे पहन कर,
असल चेहरों को यहां पह्चानना मुमकिन नही ।
Ranveer
20-04-2011, 02:34 PM
गीत-संगीत के तोहफों से
बिखरी पड़ी है दुनियां
अपने कानों से मीठी आवाज सुनने के लिये
क्या किसी से शब्द और आवाज मांगना
इस जीवन में किससे आशा
और किससे निराशा
जिनसे उम्मीद करोगे
बनायेंगे तमाशा
बेहतरीन
अति सुन्दर .....👏
Nisha.Patel
20-04-2011, 02:39 PM
हस्ती-इ-गुलिस्ताएं जहाँ कुछ भी नहीं...
चहकती हैं बुलबुलें जहाँ गुल का निशां कुछ भी नहीं...
कल तक जिनके महलों में हजारों झांड़ और फानूश थे...
पेड़ ही उनकी कब्र पर, बाकी निशा कुछ भी नहीं...
हाथ थे मिले कि ज़ुल्फ़ को सवार दूं...
होंठ थे खुले कि हर बहार को पुकार लूं...
दर्द था दिया गया कि हर दुखी को पुकार लूं
हो सका न कुछ मगर शाम बन गयी सहर..
वह उठी लहर कि बह गए किले बिखर बिखर...
कारवां गुज़र गया...गुबार देखते रहे...
ये जो मेरे शहर में रोशनी लायें होंगे....
इन चिरागों ने ना जाने कितने घर जलाये होंगे...
हाथ उनके भी यकीनन हुए होंगे जख्मी...
जिसने मेरी राह में कांटें बिछाये होंगे..
बरस ए अब्र जितना चाहे तू..
कि अब तेरी बारी है....
कभी दिल था तो हम भी...
रो रो के दरिया बहाया करते थे...
Nisha.Patel
20-04-2011, 02:42 PM
शुक्रिया रणवीर जी
बेहतरीन
अति सुन्दर .....👏
Nisha.Patel
20-04-2011, 02:47 PM
तेरे चेहरे की चमक सदा बनी रहे,
हसीं इन लबों पे सदा सजी रहे,
दूर रखे खुदा सारे गमो से तुझे,
खुशी तेरे दामन में सदा बनी बनी.
सिने में लगी आग को दबा लेंगे,
दिल में उस बात को छुपा लेंगे.
तुझे देखे बिना तेरी तस्वीर बना सकता हूँ,
तुझसे मिले बिना तेरा हाल बता सकता हूँ,
हैं, मेरी दोस्ती में इतना दम की, अपनी,
आखों के आसूं तेरी आखों से गिरा सकता हूँ.
बेवफा जब भी तेरी याद आती हैं,
टूटे दिल से आह निकल जाती हैं,
इस पर तुने मरहम तो लगाया नही था,
फ़िर क्यों तेरी याद इसे आ जाती हैं.
तुम अपने मादक नयनो से मुझे यूं इशारा न करो,
क्योंकि तेरे मादक नयनो को देखकर मेरा मन भी बहक जाता हैं.
कसम खाने के बाद, अक्सर वह हमे भूल जाते हैं,
तभी तो हम उन्हें बेवफा कहते हैं.
मुक्कदर का गरीब, दिल का आमिर था
मिलकर बिछड़ना मेरा नसीब था,
चाह कर भी कुछ कर न सके हम,
घर जलता रहा और समुन्दर करीब था.
20-04-2011, 03:18 PM
निशा जी,
आप की प्रस्तुति मुझे पुरानी फोरम की पूजा यादव की याद दिलाती है,
इसी तरह के शेर वो अपने सूत्र " यादें "में पेश किया करती थी,जो सामान्य विभाग का एक सफलतम सूत्र था.
फर्क बस इतना है की उनके सारे शेर दर्द भरे होते थे, और साथ में इनसे सम्बंधित चित्र भी संलग्न होता था.
Nisha.Patel
20-04-2011, 03:24 PM
निशा जी,
आप की प्रस्तुति मुझे पुरानी फोरम की पूजा यादव की याद दिलाती है,
इसी तरह के शेर वो अपने सूत्र " यादें "में पेश किया करती थी,जो सामान्य विभाग का एक सफलतम सूत्र था.
फर्क बस इतना है की उनके सारे शेर दर्द भरे होते थे, और साथ में इनसे सम्बंधित चित्र भी संलग्न होता था.
हाँ शायद हो सकता हे की मेरे कई शेर उनसे मिलते जुलते होंगे और पूजा यादव जी को तो हम भी जानते हे बहुत ही अच्छे अच्छे शेर पेस करती थी
अब ये सूत्र भी उतना ही मशहूर हे जितना पुराना वाला था आप इस सूत्र को निरंतर गति देते रहे
धन्यवाद
raj_mishra121
20-04-2011, 11:25 PM
ख्वाब देखू , ख्वाब -सी ताबीर हो सकती नहीं
जो बदल जाये मेरी तकदीर हो सकती नहीं
ताबीर =असलियत
raj_mishra121
20-04-2011, 11:25 PM
गम के घर तक ना जाने की कोशिश करो
जाने किस मोड पर मुस्कराना पड़े
raj_mishra121
20-04-2011, 11:34 P
Sonakshi Sinha #Bollywood #Hot #Actress #Sonakshi #Sinha
Veteran actor Shatrughan Sinha’s daughter Sonakshi Sinha turned actress and she impressed the audience with her performance. She was born for Shatrughan Sinha and Poonam who are actresses. Luv Sinha and Kush Sinha are her siblings. The actress was born on June 2nd 1987 who worked as a costume designer during her initial days of her career. She preferred to stay down to earth and never behaved as the daughter of legendary actors. It was Salman Khan who noticed her talent and gave her a break as an actress with Dabangg. The movie ended up as a smashing hit and Sonakshi Sinha won Filmfare Award for the Female debut with the film.
She then teamed up with Akshay Kumar for a romantic action entertainer titled Rowdy Rathore which has been directed by Prabhudeva. The movie is a smashing hit all over and Sonakshi received wide response for her performance in the film. She shaked leg with Prabhudeva in Akshay Kumar’s next movie Oh My God which is a smashing hit. With back to back super hits, Sonakshi Sinha achieved fame in a short time. Thid bubbly actress even lost huge weight for her upcoming movies. She then teamed up with Ajay Devgn for Son of Sardaar and the movie too has been declared as a super hit. Then it was Salman Khan who called her back for Dabangg 2.
She then signed a sensible romantic entertainer titled Lootera which has been directed by Vikramaditya Motwane and Ranveer Singh, Sonakshi Sinha played the lead roles. The movie ended up as a blockbuster and she teamed up back with Akshay Kumar for back to back films Once Upon a Time in Mumbai Dobara and Boss. Prabhudeva roped the actress again for R..Rajkumar starring Shahid Kapoor in the lead role. Sonakshi Sinha mostly signed movies with Akshay Kumar and she worked with him again for Holiday: A Soldier is Never Off Duty directed by AR Murugadoss and the film ended up as a smashing hit.
Action Jackson starring Ajay Devgn directed by Prabhudeva can be called as her biggest debacle till date after which she received one more shock with Rajinikanth’s Lingaa which has been declared as a debacle. Then came Tevar and All Is Well which too received the same result from the audience. She has then taken break and si shooting for her next movie titled Akira which is said to be a woman centric film. AR Murugadoss is the director which will release this year. Sonakshi Sinha is also playing the lead role in Force 2 starring John Abraham in the lead role.
Sonakshi Sinha is endorsing various brands and she is an animal lover. She campaigns for PETA and even she has been donating a part of her remuneration to charity to help the poor children. Sonakshi released her debut single Aaj Mood Ishqholic Hai in collaboration with Meet Bros on 23 December 2015. Sonakshi Sinha revealed that she will start her own production house and will encourage young and aspiring filmmakers to encourage new talent. goo.gl/2vU2s1
Single, male, and Indian? It’s almost a disease
The guard outside the Gordon House Hotel in Colaba hated my face. I don’t think he’d even seen it, though. The way most of us casually blank out eyes of a beggar knocking on our tinted car windows, this guard had first looked away, then scowled, then mumbled something for a bit—still ignoring the four of us entirely, given that we were even unworthy of his inattention. And then he finally muttered ‘nahin’, or something to the effect.
We were all men, single (so, obviously molesters and rapists), standing outside the main gate of his posh discotheque, dressed in our Saturday night best. It appeared we could afford his hospitality, but he didn’t seem interested. Dogs and stags weren’t allowed, but then, suddenly, we (the dogs) were.
Galloping mindlessly across Mumbai’s backpacking district, we had left behind our only legitimate passports to status and nightlife—the four women friends with us. They caught up with us eventually and hence the guard welcomed us in. I don’t think he said sorry. He needn’t have. I didn’t blame him. Egos are too trivial to get in the way of a precious evening.
However, the gent outside Tito’s, with eight people inside on a Monday night, in the dead of the monsoon season, turned out to be a whole lot ruder. I heard him whisper under his breath some terrible things about the anatomy of our mothers and sisters. Not the sorts to pick a brawl still, we endured the humiliation, gently explained that we, in fact, did have women friends at the bar and then quietly left. This is common sufferance in Delhi. But we were in Goa, for God’s sake.
Being a man, with other men, in India’s semi-urban nocturnal jungle is to remain a gross, sometimes disgraced social outcaste, experiencing a strange tropical ailment—single-itis, for lack of a better name. These untouchables of nightlife don’t deserve their dance, with their drink, even if they could pay twice for the same simple pleasures.
You know something’s warped when watering holes that serve loud hard retro rock for music—still no one’s idea of a romantic date, by the way — remain officially open to couples only. Save if you are a regular. So they let me into Mumbai’s good old Ghetto the other night. I heaved a sigh of relief. We were five men, one woman. You can’t form political coalitions with right permutations each time you go out. The said ratio didn’t work at the next lounge, like it won’t at most clubs. Tough luck, I guess. And, no, there isn’t such a thing as ‘gay couples’. So, smart try.
It’s the sort of sexual discrimination few will take seriously and fewer still will care about. No one I know will fight against it. Suspicions are hard to erase. Some terrorists give all men a bad name. This is true for the average, Indian non-molester man, who makes for the vast majority. He stopped hitting on Indian women at some point. She instantly assumed him to be sleazy anyway. She had probably liked looking at him. He had seemed okay. He had enjoyed giving her the attention. She had thought that was fine as well. Their eyes had just met at the bar. But I know what they were both suffering from.
The Indian girl is hit by the silly ‘slut complex’. She won’t make the semblance of a first move—which should truly be her right—for fear of being judged as the loose one. The Indian guy is similarly down with the ‘creep syndrome’. He can’t be seen as one of those, you know, “one of those”. He has a reputation to protect.
Given such poor practice with making conversations with the unknown of the opposite gender, his skills get considerably worse with time. When he does try his luck now, once in a while, the possible openers get odder still: “You smell really nice . . .” Eww. She looks away. He goes back to his drink.
The times you must hang out with other men, just men, is when you’re at a quasi-gay joint celebrating old boys’ reunion of a frustrated boarding school. There are mostly men around at party places, which allow men to be by themselves. The topic of conversation is the woman, still.
Species single, male, and Indian, could consider themselves getting officially quarantined. It would help their cause. Female companionship is a mirage. Male company gets boring. Cloaking this lack of opportunity into a moral virtue, most prefer to get married instead. Their parents help them hook up, finally. Someone should. It’s hard to hold out beyond the late twenties. Arranged marriage isn’t always a matter of social conservatism or personal choice. It is often an urban necessity. Family feels proud. Segregation suits the status quo. Society approves. As does the petty politician, whether he’s the sicko who hassles lovers at public parks, or the old man in the gram panchayat. Unmarried love is fatal to his constituency. Inter-religious or inter-caste family can negate his existence. The conforming institution, the saviour, lives on.
Sooner or later, being single gets even tougher when everyone else around is already married. And there, those platonic female passports to an acceptable nightlife are gone as well. It may be fair to suggest that you can be happily single, in much the same way as you can be happily married . . . both being empirically impossible. To me the occasional woes of single men, however, seem diametrically opposite to those of the single women I meet. Except when they discuss the opposite sex, which is when they talk the same language.
Both on separate tables insist that a man or woman who is straight, smart, attractive, intelligent, interesting, funny, and, yet, available is an extinct specimen fit to hang at museums. Maybe because the two tables have never merged with each other’s. They’ve never really met. After school and college, where will they? At work? That’s where many do, it appears—unless you’re the supposedly shy sort, who only slimily stares at objects of desire, over the cubicle, under the staircase, when not stalking on Facebook.
New to sharing workspace with women, the traditional Indian man can barely get himself to open his hesitant mouth before a frothy female form. What comes out, when he does part his lips, bears promise of a sexual harassment case. He’s better off tongue-tied, quietly fantasizing. Dishonesty in sexual expression is probably better for the civilised world.
The less shady ones—fat, fugly, tall, talkative, short, sloppy—get to demonstrate their actual worth at work. This is a level playing eld. Women get attracted to the relatively
smart. The guy has something to prove. Bosses should be glad. Late hours aren’t a problem. Attendance goes up. Company’s productivity rises.
Sure, an office intern can shake up the White House and shock America. The gorgeous dimwit secretary can make the stern corporate CEO dance on his knees. Attraction demands no prior appointment. This may be unfair on the nerdy, pimply man who must work harder to command the same attention from his male superiors. But nature tends to balance this out in the long run.
That rookie biz-school grad, when he turns bald and old and if he is on top of his boardroom game, will be considered sexually attractive still. This isn’t necessarily true for the dumb hot intern in his office twenty years later. While he’s younger, freer, funnier, he stands a fair chance as well. Call centres and the movie industry merely get a bad name. All Indian offices with reasonable sex ratios, being 1:10, if you peer harder I reckon, will look like rocking dating sites, spiced up with secret romances, rebounds, heartburns, and heartbreaks. Pay closer attention to the HR department.
Mixing hormones with business may be a terrible idea, I know, but what to do? Where else to go? At a house party full of drunks? Where the inevitable cock-blocking and penis- fencing match is about to begin between twenty single men over the only woman who decided to stay back until late? Maybe. Or maybe not.
At a discotheque? Yes. That would be an ideal place for the lonely soul, seeking a happy ending to a day—a night of casual, naughty nirvana. It’s a large, dimly lit psychedelic dome singularly structured around eyeing men and women, since there’s precious little they can see of each other, through their beer goggles, under a shiny disco-ball. Loud music takes away the awkward discomforts of acquaintanceship. Burden of conversation safely lies in the lyrics of the songs. Akon sings ‘I wanna love you’, Snoop Dogg adds ‘I wanna fuck you’. Bodies move to booty calls. Eyes meet. The point’s made. Nobody need ask your place or mine?. Maybe that’s there in the song lyrics as well. Deal’s struck. Booze is expensive. Night’s young. So are you.
But then if you’re single, male, and around others with the same affliction, you were just dreaming right now. They won’t allow you into a nightclub. It’s for couples only. Despite weightier measures of time, the two people entering have already met, and so have already dated, drank, danced, and done all old-world things invented to break the ice since the Internet. Then, perhaps, they’re not single anymore. Social segregation is a vicious circle. Having a girlfriend exponentially increases your chances of finding another than being single ever does.
For a year or so I once co-ran an anonymous daily relationship column in an English daily in Mumbai. It was called Dear Diana, named after this well-travelled woman who could solve your daily problems. I was Diana. It was a popular read. Most of those writing in, I realised, were only checking if we would print their crazy queries, none of which were serious. They were almost all jigsaw puzzles about cousins sleeping with their daughters, who were in turn making love with both the dad and the aunt. The only genuine questions would inevitably be from a lost male soul: “I like this girl. What do I do?” Become her friend, I’d say. “How?” Get to know her friends first, and take it slowly from there, I guess. “How?” You know what, buddy? I don’t know.
A veteran tri-sexual acquaintance (the sort who serially tries for sex as his natural right) tells me he’s had it now. It is a hard life, unless you’re a rock star, or in the Indian context, a Bollywood hero who plays a rock star, I suppose. The friend says he’d rather start a political front for single men. There’d be enough support for his cause, he jokes. I don’t agree.
Nobody would openly join a group that automatically is presumed to comprise a bunch of cash-strapped, unstable varieties who walk around being single because, it is thought, they ought to be. No woman could stand the son of a gun, anyway. Even women are attracted more towards men who are already hitched. There’s mystique in the unattainable. Singles’ nights inevitably fail. Recent female responses to dating apps like Tinder suggest to me that it is mainly full of married freakoids or sexual ends. Neither help much in restoring the rep of the Indian single man anyway. “Deserters, all these people,” the ‘tri-sexual’ frowns at my analysis. You’d be the first one looking to desert your own group, I tell him. He agrees.
The Game is a celebrated Bible for single men that scientifically tutors an ‘average frustrated chump’ (AFC) to become a ‘pick-up artist’ (PUA) giving out few quick steps towards attracting pretty things at bars, cafés, malls, and discotheques. The bestseller studies various ‘seduction communities’ in the US. During the course of writing his experiences, author Neil Strauss, self- admittedly an AFC, attends workshops conducted by experts in serious ‘seduction communities’ before he gets anointed the world’s no. 1 PUA.
The single Indian man would be in awe of such a champion. Read the book and you’d be easily able to tell why the same methods could never be applied in his country. This isn’t to say I haven’t seen a desi dude with a ‘wing man’ at a local bar, ‘peacocking’ (dressing outrageously), ‘negging’ (sounding rude, but giving backhanded compliments), ‘kinoing’ (making harmless physical contact) . . . Yeah, I have basically seen him make a plum ass of himself in public. The desi girl is mostly unimpressed. She probably also knows he’s read the book.
The Game is yet another American dream. Women have widely panned the bestseller in the West for its overt male chauvinism. The premise is entirely sexist, yes. But sex-guru Strauss makes a significant point out there that should please the average female reader—that there are no ugly women, only lazy ones.
Everybody loves the single woman. The world donates her its affection, attention, drinks, dinner, coffee, couch, conversations, cupcakes, tags, hash-tags, friend requests, re- tweets, roses on Rose Day, proposals on Propose Day, self- respect on Valentine’s Day . . . She gifts them hope. Nobody loves a single man; not even the single man himself, and least of all the bouncer outside the club.
Ranveer Brar on Twitter #Cheese, #Cgn7qb1ewc, #Ans, #Twitter, #Location, #Swiss, #Tweet, #Learn, #Distinctive, #Ranveerbrar #Contfeed
Check out here >> cofd.co/pkade
Five Days
A trip to Karachi in March has never on the cards for me. The month I spend there every January at Rashiqay’s was the routine now for years. Last year I had come though because my cousin, the only relative in our family who lived in Karachi, his father died. This year my father died and I wanted to leave Lahore and be somewhere quiet for a few days.
I landed in Karachi on a Friday and headed out on a Monday morning. I had decided on Ormara, a fishing village 5 hours from the city. I knew it well. I had been there a few times when nobody knew it existed, courtesy of a friend’s husband. Those trips were amongst the best of my life. Endless stretches of virgin beaches, gorgeous shells that adorn my bathroom sink to this day, unreal sunsets and the best part, the absence of human beings.
The beaches are coved by cliffs that are eroded naturally by wind. The drive is through the largest national park in Pakistan, Hingol. Which itself is endless stretches of the earthy mountain ranges of a range of colours, shapes and sizes. The highway is like an abandoned stretch for hundreds of kilometers. Usually one passes any number of trucks going between Karachi and Gawador or Quetta. This time there were hardly any.
My friend’s brother had kindly allowed me to use one of his cars. Everyone was a little on edge that I was having the driver drop me off and then come back 5 days later but I told them it would be fine. I got the info on the hotel from some friends who had stayed there. It was 2 stars at best, they told me, a number of small huts facing the beach. There was no electricity till 7pm and no hot water.
The hotel had one restaurant that served a daal and a veggie every day. Chicken could be ordered. Breakfast was eggs and parathas. “Take a kettle,” was the best suggestion I got. Then you could drink tea in the room and heat a quarter of a bucket if you needed to. The temperatures were hitting mid-80s, (28). Everything was perfect. I decided on a 7am departure to beat the traffic in the city which was almost always insane. I figured we would be there by noon.
It was the first time in my life I didn’t mind getting up super early for a trip. In the two days I had, I collected a bunch of dry snacky stuff so I was prepared. Nuts, chips, chocolate, dates, honey, hunter beef, bread, fruit. Yum! I planned on an egg for breakfast and the veggies for dinner.
On my way out of the house I asked the guard who I had started calling “Chacha” for some reason – paternal uncle – where the aloe vera plants were. He pointed me to them outside the house. I plucked two long leaves. He kept looking at me while I stuffed them into a plastic bag.
“They’re excellent for sunblock,” I said. “The other ones really burn my eyes.”
He looked like he was sorry he asked. Or looked I guess. He hadn’t asked.
Exactly three minutes from the house, I saw a man collecting garbage from the street. I see people collecting garbage more in Karachi than I have ever seen in another city in my life. Old, young, kids, men, women, it was a huge way of making some sort of living. It was also one of the hardest ways of earning a buck. The dumps were disgusting. Dogs urinated there all the time as did men.
I had read that there was a phase in his life when he was young man, that Ghaus Pak (ra), Hazrat Abdul Qadir Jilani (ra) went through people’s refuse to find food. I had been so shocked when I read that that I always kept ration in my car to give to people who collected and sold refuse.
Three minutes in I see the guy so I gestured to the driver to stop.
“I have to give him something,” I said.
He pulled over. I rolled down window a quarter ways and handed him a note. When I clicked the button for the window to roll back up, it didn’t move. I looked over the driver who was now on the road again. The car wasn’t ours. The last thing we were going to check was the windows.
“It will be ok in a little bit hopefully,” he said smiling.
I spent the next 10 minutes playing with the button. Finally he pulled over. I pressed “down” to see if maybe that would make it move in the opposite direction as well but that didn’t work. When the sound of the wind became too loud as our driving speed increased, I told him we had to find a solution. We pulled over and wrapped the window with plastic and scotch tape and went on our way.
After about three hours into the trip we finally saw Hingol in the distance. I looked at him excitedly, “Its coming. It’s going to blow you away. You’ll see,” I said. “Actually pull over. I need to take the first shot.”
There was literally no one and nothing around us for miles in any direction we looked. He started slowing down. It would take about a 100 meters before he came to a complete stop. As he did that I saw something on the other side of the road. I couldn’t tell what it was till we came closer and I realized it was an old man. He was just sitting on the road cross-legged.
His being where we happened to stop, in the middle of nowhere, was uncanny. I felt it was a windfall, that I was supposed to give him something, so I leapt of the car before it even came to a complete stop. The old man got up. I crossed the roads towards him.
“Baba,” I called out, my voice effusing familiarity, “Kya haal hai Baba?” How are you?
He just raised his hand as if he was patting my head in the air. I pulled out a note from my pocket and handed it to him. He looked pleased as if I had done a right thing. Then as I moved away, he gestured with his hands making them into the shape of someone holding a morsel towards his mouth.
“You want something to eat?” I asked.
“Water,” he said.
I asked the driver to take out one of the liter bottles from the trunk. Then I looked at my stash of food and brought him all my cheekos and guavas. There weren’t that many to begin with.
“You want some fruit?” I held up the bag for him to see in case he didn’t speak Urdu.
He nodded. I smiled at him and got back into the car. When we left him I felt bad I hadn’t given him the hunter beef. It had crossed my mind but I wanted it for myself. I sighed deeply. Was there ever going to be more evidence of my being an ass?
Once again I was recognizing, beyond doubt, that whatever good I did, I did because I was literally granted the ability to do it. Otherwise it was always the same story; my nafs and me trudging up and down the road of life, not knowing if we were coming or going.
Hingol looked a little different. I had been there last almost 10 years ago. The wind had eroded the ranges over the years. They were still stunning but they didn’t have the fine clarity of shape, the sharp points of the jagged ridges like before. I smiled. Like me, Hingol had aged. The face of the “sphinx” still remained but the rest of it was smaller. The Princess of Hope seemed exactly the same.
The driver was indeed blown away. Every time I looked over at him, he had a smile plastered on his face. It was exactly like the smile plastered on mine when I played Frisbee. Just one never-ending smile that was there literally the whole time. It was the only reason I told every single kid I met to play it.
They always listened to me smiling, most likely charmed by my excitement, and then forgot what I said a moment later. I also kept forgetting that as soon as you told them to do something, even if it was magical, a lever in their brain got pressed and a signal emoted, “Never doing that!”
For exactly that reason, I was especially enjoying the years in my niece, Sameena's, life where she was still obedient. Well, not entirely but at least when it came to the things that really mattered to me, which were all faith-related, she did what I asked.
It wasn’t much. I told her to pray every night or in the morning or actually anytime of the day by saying just a few words. “Allahu Rabbi,” Allah is my Lord who raises me, “Allahu Ma’a-i” Allah is with me “Allahu Shahid-i, Allah is my witness, “Allahu nadrian allayya” Allah gazes upon me.
The first was the most meaningful to my life as well. I said a tasbeeh of it every day. I used to think in my late 40s, how much “raising” is possible but I have learnt to my absolute delight, lots! The other three I had taught her because of a story I had heard of Hazrat Sahel Tustari (ra) whose tafseer is of a 1,000 verses of the Quran. It had been one of my readings last Ramadan. After, I had googled his name to see what else I would find.
There were only a handful of videos referencing him and in all of them was the same story. When he was 5 or less, his Uncle would get up for Tahajjud, the prayer before Fajr. He would come and stand beside him. His Uncle would then say “Go to sleep.” One day he taught him the three lines. Hazrat Tustari (ra) started saying them. When he was 15 years, he asked his teacher a question, “What makes the heart prostrate?” The teacher was stunned. Then he only said,
“When the body prostrates, it rises. Once the heart prostrates, it remains in that state forever.”
I had told Sameena the story. I made her repeat it several times, the meanings of the words she uttered, the story about what happens when the heart prostrates. I want her to ask something beyond her years when she hits 15. Something her heart quests for and only lies in a secret from God.
It was the same reason the only thing I made her do with me was to forgive herself every single day for that she was unable to do and also ask for forgiveness every single day. First from God, then to make absolute certain it was granted, His Beloved (peace be upon him), making it clear to her that his prayer would guarantee the acceptance of her repentance.
The days that she does that, her head bent, her eyes closed, her hands clasped together, repeating every single word I say without a question, she looks like the epitome of obedience to me. The delight it gives my heart is indescribable. Sometimes I throw in random things to see if I evoke a reaction. Like the last time when she had not spoken to me for a few weeks after my father died and didn’t mention him, I made her say,
“Please forgive me for not asking Mony if she’s alright after her Papa died.” She didn’t react but then she sent me tons of emojis with love and hearts.
After I unpacked at the hotel and had lunch with my driver, where I had devoured more of the chicken karahi I had no intention of eating, than he did, (it was that good), I decided to go for a swim. God bless Sami, who had told me to bring long pants and a full sleeved top.
Previously when I had come to the village, we had stayed at the naval base. Even the public beach was practically private so it didn’t matter what we wore. I imagined the same. But there were other guests, although not many, plus the hotel staff which was all male. There were also a bunch of random dogs of the same breed hanging around.
On the drive over, for no reason I had googled the words “sand therapy.” I wondered if there such a thing and if I could do it to myself. Lo and behold, of course there was. The Mandarin Oriental in Kuala Lumpur had begun one in 2019 in their spa.
It was called ‘‘psammotherapy,” using a therapeutic heated sand bed to melt away aches and soreness. When the sun hit its high, I noticed that I could only half see the dogs and I wondered why. Upon close inspection it turned out that the dogs had buried themselves in the and were already enjoying “sand therapy.”
I’m not a dog person. It was almost hard to admit that these days when people’s relationship with the particular animal has certainly discovered new peaks. For that matter I don’t like being around any animal. Well, any animal that can touch me. I got to used to cats at Abida’s but then cats act like you don’t exist so it’s great. I love birds but they’re scared of you. I haven’t seen any fish in the water around me for ages. They don’t come near you either. Seeing the dogs, who looked so relaxed and the opposite of hot under a burning sun, I have to admit I felt a certain regard for them.
I donned my full black gear and went out, my eyes on the ground. The water was perfect. The beach at Ormara has the most gradual gradient that I ever seen in my life. You could easily be a couple hundred meters into the water and it might reach your hips, if that. I swam and floated around for a while before heading back.
I decided to take a shower outdoors to avoid getting the room sandy. My friend Saneeah had been taking cold water showers to stimulate the vagus nerve. I had been humming to stimulate mine. I hate cold showers but the fact that there was no hot water immediately available made me amenable to them. It was warm outside anyway.
After I had a cup of tea I asked the manager to send someone from his staff with a bike to take me to one of the cliffs Sami had recommended for a walk at low tide. I hadn’t been on a bike in I don’t even know how long. On the way as I held on to the seat and my bag, I saw a man and a child collecting garbage.
“Look,” I pointed at them to the kid who was driving the bike.
“There’s even garbage collectors here. Is there even that much garbage?” I said to myself as I looked around. When we reached them I told the driver to stop.
“Do you have any money?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he replied. He pulled out his wallet and I took out the largest note he had.
“Bhai!” I called to the man. When he came over, I handed him the money.
He looked at it, then looked at me and said, “Allah aap to Imaan de.” May God bestow your heart with faith.
I was so stunned by the word he used, I thought I didn’t hear him right.
Leaning towards him from the bike I said, “Kya? Aap na kya dua di hai?” What did you just pray for me?
He raised his hands and repeated the words, “Allah aap to Imaan de.”
My jaw literally dropped. “Bhai,” I said fervently, “Mujhe ye dua zindagi mein kabhi kissi na nahi di.” No one in my entire life has ever prayed for me for this.
His expression didn’t change and he raised his hands “Allah aap to Imaan de.”
The emotion I felt can only be described as a lift-off. It was mix of elation and more elation and yet more elation. Like him, I repeated my words and just kept thanking him like a maniac.
Imaan is the jauhar, the jewel, the gist, the core, the essence of believing in God. It lies not in simply acknowledging Him. I had just written a piece in which I had shared what I had read and what I had heard about Imaan. Let’s just say it was pretty difficult for one to reach the stage and state of being of the ones addressed 72 time by God directly “Ya Ayyoha Alladina Aamino” O ye who attained to faith!” If someone’s prayer could transport me there, I don’t believe I could ever want anything else in life.
The bike ride to the cliffs was amazing. Sami had a gray rock with a shell carved into it, like the shell had lived in the rock and then suddenly disappeared. It was a fossil. It was gorgeous and perfect and I was dying for one.
As I walked around slowly, my head scanning the rocks on the ground, I saw two men sitting on the side chatting. They looked young. That’s the beauty about traveling in Pakistan. Everyone’s a kid compared to 50 year olds and the young are chilled everywhere the world over.
I looked up at them and, for no reason, announced, “I’m looking or a rock with a shell in it.” I don’t know why I told them that. They didn’t have a reaction. Instead they pointed to a duck parked in front of them and said, “You should take this. Otherwise dogs will eat it.” It was the perfect tit-for-tat to a random comment. I didn’t have a reaction either.
On my way back I saw my bike rider, Amir, speaking to them. When I passed them again, one of them asked, “What is your Youtube channel?”
I smiled. I had barely mentioned it in passing to Amir. I told them to come over and bring their phone so I could open it for them. I don’t know what they expected but it was not Sufi kalam. Of course I went off on a tangent about the Saints and who they were and the narrations and why they were chosen.
They looked at me intently. I couldn’t tell if they knew any of the names but I were to guess, it seemed unlikely. “We’ll listen to it later,” one of them said. Mobile data had to be used carefully. He clicked the “Subscribe” button though to make me happy.
I find men from two provinces in particular are very friendly to me. Pathans and now Baluchis. They never make me feel weird about dressing up like a boy, not being able to tell if I’m a boy or a girl, till I tell them. Even when they ask, as they did on this trip, “Bhai ho ke behen?” - Brother or sister? - there’s nothing stinging about the tone.
Punjabis are different. Pathans are like, “Cool.” And the Baluchis seemed to be like, “Who cares?” about everything. One man I saw was eating or snorting green stuff in packets, that was a drug for sure, as if it was a bag of peanuts and anyone could have a taste.
When I got home I had a plate of mixed sabzi and went through my photos. They were lovely but I could foretell I was going to average 100 shots a day so I wondered how I was going to make an album of no more than 50. I wrote a little and slept.
Day Two – The Shells
The next morning I decided to swim early instead of the afternoon. Time had come to no longer exist. I wasn’t wearing my wrist watch and the only other way to tell what hour it was was via a machine. All of mine were turned off.
It was liberating for someone like me who, despite not having a smart phone, schedules everything, even nothing. I easily average half a dozen reminders a day about the most minor to-dos. If I had dollar for every time someone said, “Your phone rang and I said, “It’s a reminder…”
It was Tuesday and the hotel seemed empty at that time except for a couple in a tent on the beach in front of us. In the dim light of the sunset I had thought it was a mother and her daughter. In the morn I saw it was a man with really long hair and a woman I assumed was his wife.
I walked into the water and marveled at how calm it was. Like a giant swimming pool, perfectly still. Even the waves that moved towards the shore were super silent and slow. It was one of the best swims I have had in my life. Being the only one in the water for miles was cool as hell.
In the afternoon I had planned to go to another beach where Sami had told me there were pools of water that were perfectly clear. I didn’t find the pools but I did find another beach about 30 minutes from the hotel. I asked the kid to drop me off there and come back in three hours. I had packed a sandwich and a thermos for tea. What I really wanted were shells. They weren’t the same at the beach in front of my hotel like they used to be several years ago when we came. I guess the presence of Man always depletes something in nature.
The drive to the other beach was fantastic. I took pictures I would have never been able to in a car, (everything has an upside), and wondered about this estranged province of my country; Baluchistan.
Everything about it is like a mystery. It’s like a secret that refuses to reveal itself. The endless mountains and cliffs made of earth blowing away with every breeze, changing every second, forming continually shifting faces and shapes endlessly.
It was as if every carving spoke, had a story to tell. One could look at a ridge and see what appeared to be silhouette from one side, only to see something entirely different from the other. That was mesmerizing. The mountains, the cliffs, the ranges, they were towering and majestic, awesome, but it was unforgettable that they were carved out of earth, not stone. They were humble not hard.
Everywhere I looked I felt a treasure was buried. As it is, no one knows what lies below the ground in Baluchistan, much like Afghanistan. The appearance of barren-ness hides precious elements; gold, granite, gypsum, oil, gas, marble and God only knows what else and how much of it.
When I passed by a couple of villages, I noticed that the houses seemed to made of a thick jute like sacky cloth, not even bricks or mud, which meant that light could not enter the space. They were tiny and had no windows. There was no water, no electricity, no gas, no schools, no hospitals. There was nothing for the people who lived there.
It made me wonder how many more years the people of the province would have to bear the injustice of being deprived. They were like the African Americans in the US. There was a fuss, only recently at that, when they were killed and then nobody cared again.
Yet the province has Gwador, one of a handful deep sea ports in the world. It is the most critical part of CPEC, which is China’s only escape from its endless conflicts with its rivals in the South China Sea. Not to mention shorter routes and more money. I sighed and prayed their savior would appear soon.
I had brought a special bag to carry the shells. But I wanted to wash them before I put them in it so I walked around the beach collecting the ones I liked in my hand, then went over to the water to take the sand out of them and put them in the bag. Each time I thought I was done, on the way back to the bag, I would see more I wanted. I must have made the trip back and forth half a dozen times. My favourites were the ones stuck together, whole, perfect. I had never seen those anywhere else in my life.
Soon after the kid came back to pick me up and I headed back to the hotel.
Day three – The Dogs
When I woke up the next morning I made a mistake. I decided to swim in the afternoon instead of the morning. I asked the Manager if he would find a way for me to get some shade on the beach so I could read there. I didn’t see any beach umbrellas so I suggested what we used to do when we came back in the day. Take 4 long sticks and tie a sheet on them. Very “Survivor” but it always worked. He managed to find an old beach umbrella and made a spot of shade for me where I took my Ipod, book and water.
Before that I ordered the same thing I ordered the day before, a desi omelette. When the guy from the restaurant came to give it to me, I saw he had a tray full of food for someone else. The eggs in it looked like Shashuka and delicious.
“What’s that?” I asked him.
“Gotaala,” he said.
“Mazar ka lag raha hai. Mein Chak rahi hun.” Looks yummy. I’m trying it.
I waited for a second to see if he would stop me and when he didn’t, I proceeded to take a spoonful and shove it in my mouth.
“Mmmm,” I smiled, “Bahut mazay ka hai. Kal mein bhi khaon gi.” I want this tomorrow.
He smiled too. Then he told me he wondered why there was guest in the hotel who was ordering an egg in the morning without a paratha and daal at night without a roti. I started laughing. I told him that like an idiot I had brought this loaf of bread for some reason from Karachi and was now having trouble finishing it.
“Tomorrow,” I pledged. “Parathas and gotaala.”
The bread wasn’t some sour dough from Okra. It was a small loaf of Milky Bread from Rehmet e Shireen. I had gone there to get some mithai to distribute. Every other person in the shop was buying the Milky Bread. Since I grew up on white bread, I was curious about it so I bought one too. It was good but the paratha looked amazing.
After, I went and sat on the sheet under the umbrella and put on my headphones, waiting for the wind to die down. It was then that I cried the first time. What evoked it was music. I still had to make my video for Hazrat Ali (ratu) and I had been listening to different versions of “Man Kunto Maula” to see what they would trigger in my head as to how I wanted to have Ustad do the rendition of the kalam.
For the first time, I had two narrations in my video, as opposed to one, so it was important to keep the length of it as a whole in mind. We had been delayed because, accidently and quite magically, Abida had come across the lines of the tarana in the lyrics and discovered that it was not just sounds but they had meaning to them.
The tarana is the part where it goes “tom tom tanananana nana nana re.” It’s where the song takes off. Any version you listen to. Abida told me that the words were actually a hamd, a song in praise of God. “Tom” each time meant something different. “I am You, I am Yours, I belong to You.” I was blown away by that. It was always the favourite part of the track for me but that was because the composition is beyond extraordinary because it is by Amir Khusaru (ra ).
I listened to a bunch of kalam and the weeping intensified when I heard “Dam hama dam Ali Ali” by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. It was the track I had made my niece learn a few lines to when she was 7. I hadn’t seen her in so long and I was wondering when I would meet her again. She had loved learning it and we had loved singing it together.
There had been more dogs than usual on the beach. But now since I had changed my attitude towards them I didn’t mind so much. “Sand therapy,” I said to myself as I saw them bury themselves one by one. At one point I went back to the room to grab a water.
On my way back I noticed a dog going over to where my sheet was. “Yikes” I thought, the “love” draining my system. I didn’t want the dog to even step on the sheet. Next thing I knew, he had lifted his leg over my cushion.
“Oyyyeee Kutttttttaayyyyy,” I yelled out at the top of my lungs running. Dooogggggg!
Of course it was too late. By the time I got there, the cushion was soaked. The dog didn’t even move when I charged towards it, moving away at a leisurely place while I stared at the mess. Luckily I saw one of the hotel staff picking up the tents of those who had camped on the beach.
“Bhai,” I called him over. I told him with dismay what the dog did apologizing profusely as if I owned it. I wasn’t sure how he would react to anyone having to wash dog pee. He was completely unfazed.
“Give the sheet also,” he said as a precaution. I gathered it and he went off.
Later I was laughing to myself at how I had just screamed the word in Urdu for the animal. I sounded like Sultan Rahi, this Punjabi hero from the 70s on, who was in all the most famous Pakistani Punjabi movies. Whenever is saw posters of him as a child, he literally looked insane to me.
I hadn’t seen any of his films but everyone knew who he was because in any trailer, he was always screaming profanities at the villain like a maniac. Who in turn was screaming them back. I had seen Maula Jat, or I should say a part of it, because a newer version was coming out with the most beautiful actor Pakistan possessed, Fawad Khan. I figured it was good to watch the original before.
It was there that I realized how crazy the Punjabi movies in those retro decades were. Even the women were violent, toting guns and cursing out everyone, even the police, even if they were already inside the jail. They were always plus-size and the personification of vulgarity. When they danced it felt like they were trying to bring on an earthquake.
Sultan Rahi was the only hero for the longest time. There was also only one villain, Mustafa Qureshi. They both looked like they were in their 50s. Both wore wigs. In fact most of the male cast wore wigs. That itself was nuts. The Punjabi film industry was like the craziest ever. People loved it so maybe it was just the “mod-squad” that was like, “Wtf?”
But the one thing the industry had that no other in the world did was Madam Nur Jahan. Hence the songs were insanely good. The lyrics, the composition, the rendition. Madam sang each track like she was the lead actress. My favourite
soundtrack is Heer Ranjha and I discovered it very late in life. Maybe when the jewel of the crown is like the Kohinoor, it doesn’t matter what the rest of it looks like.
I missed the chance to swim because the wind just kept picking up. That made me sad but I was really happy with the aloe vera applications I was doing multiple times a day. I couldn’t tell what it was doing for my skin. The only mirror was in the bathroom and I wasn’t in it for long. Plus most of the time there was no electricity so no one was gazing in the mirror anyway. Otherwise, it was making my face feel so cool and soft, I applied it every chance I got.
After I got back for the day and I bathed, I applied some again. Later I found it’s the best thing to put on after a day in the sun. When I started running out I called the driver in Karachi and told him to bring me a little. Anything to not wear the sunblock I had. The bottle alone brought on vivid memories of stinging eyes.
The swimsuit, different from anything I had ever worn in my life was working out perfectly. The top, which was usually a tankini, was a full sleeved rashguard and the bottoms, always a pair of surfboard shorts, was like a legging. I had borrowed it from a friend who wears a burka. She was surprised I wanted it. I had told her the water might be cold. That was the reason I had the rashguard too. I thought I would be warmer. I was really lucky because I would not have been able to swim at all in my tankini and shorts.
I noticed that no men took off their shirts even when they went into the water. They wore shorts that were bermudas at least. If they went in at all that is. I didn’t see one person swimming in the ocean in the five days I was there. They would wade in, hang out in the water, even sit in it and then leave.
The women only wore full clothing, western or eastern. I heard some people from Karachi wore what they would in Miami but not mostly. Generally, the consideration, people showed for the culture of where they were was remarkable and impressive.
It made me know that going forward this would be my gear for sure. Not because I didn’t expect to ever be in places where I could wear whatever I wanted but because the upsides were notable. I didn’t once put on sun block which I hate because it smells weird and is a pain to get off. I didn’t worry about the stains it made on my swimsuit when it was white. I felt less cold when I got out of the water and no part of my body got burnt. Or even dark, making outlines everywhere. Thanks to Sami I had gotten a pair of water shoes and they were amazing. Yup, the suit had changed forever.
At about 4pm I decided to go back hunting for the water pools near a reef on a beach about a 15 minute bike ride from the hotel. I figured if I missed the ocean maybe I could dunk in one of them instead. It was Sami who had told me about it and showed me pictures. Once I got there for the first half an hour I was distracted by shells again so I began perusing the sand for whatever caught my eye. It made me appreciate the notion of the pursuit of beauty.
Why one could easily travel the world if they thought something existed that had to be possessed only because it was beautiful. God forbid if someone had told me that a certain kind of shell existed in Ormara that I liked, I would have stayed 15 instead of 5 days looking for it. When I had seen Sami’s rock that had the imprint of a shell on it, absolutely perfectly like the rock had been plasticine, I had felt deep envy. I definitely wanted one of those. And, lucky me, I had found a few on day one!
It also made me realize that I was probably a nightmare to travel with once the camera emerged. I literally wanted to take a shot of the same thing every two minutes. It’s like I couldn’t get enough of it and exercised no control around it. Many of my friends used to always say, “You can take as many pictures as you want,” but they never meant it. Even the drivers who I paid so I could stop where I wanted didn’t have the patience for it after a while.
The kid on the bike was different. Amir hadn’t really seen the village where he was working so he was discovering its breathtaking beauty with me. Every day when we went out I had to tell keep his eyes on the road, or the beach, as it happened to be most time. Every few seconds he was distracted by the water or the columns, the cliffs and the dry plateaus around them.
When I asked him to stop repeatedly, he didn’t mind. I guess he wondered what I was going to take a shot of next. I knew that because sometimes he would suggest I get off the bike and take my time to do it by approaching the subject.
On one of those rides back when the sun was setting and the waves were gently lapping up to the shore, I felt a pang of envy. Karachiites were lucky to have such a spot only five hours away. Not to mention the most amazing drive through Hingol for an hour and a half of it. I had felt like that when in Islamabad in the last few years too. The mountains, all kinds of them, one more beautiful and different than the other, were only a few hours away.
In Lahore we didn’t have anything like that. There was Islamabad four hours away and as lovely as it was, it was still a city. I did have my village which was almost three hours away but there the stay was different. It was definitely picturesque and relaxing but the area in which I moved was extremely limited. Perhaps that was my fault but once I was there I didn’t really want to drive more to go anywhere else.
But Lahore has what is its jewel inside the city. It’s not one park or another, many of which are undoubtedly spectacular. It’s a shrine, one of many; Daata darbaar, the shrine of Daata Ali Hajveri (ra). Most Lahoris have never even been. That would be the same as being from Karachi and never having gone to the beach. Ever!
He is the reason we have missed being devastated by wars where enemies basically walked into the center of the city only to turn around of their own will. Where we were not destroyed because bombs fell from planes and landed on the banks of the Ravi unexploded. I learnt that from the renowned Parsi author, Bapsi Sidhwa in her short story, The Gentlemanly War.
After when I asked my Mamu about it to confirm it was true and not fiction for her writing, he told me the part about how the Indians crossed the Wagah border and reached the Parliament House on the Mall, a few miles from our home, because we had sent our entire tank platoon expecting the attack somewhere else. When not a shot was fired at them and they cruised in, the commander updated his seniors on the situation and the General in charge told him to turn around “It’s a trap,” he said.
But it wasn’t.
It was a victory over the city that is the heart of the country. Later when he was asked why he made that call, he said he didn’t know why. But we do. It was because of someone’s prayer.
When I got to the reef initially I got distracted by, you guessed it, shells again. Then I remembered, “the pool.” I saw many little ones and even sat in one which had warm water for a while before looking for the larger one. Then I came upon it and it was perfect because it was right at the edge of the reef, so it was like sitting at the edge of the ocean. The view of the cliff opposite, Hammer Head, was serene. I named it Sami’s Pool. She found it.
I was following tradition. When I was studying in the boarding school in Murree, I remember one of my mother’s cousins, my Aunt and her family, her husband and my cousins came to visit. They had packed a lunch and we drove around looking for a chashma, a spring, to sit around and eat it. We drove for what seemed to be a while but couldn’t find anything. Then I saw one that nobody else did.
I told my aunt. She made her husband turn around and lo and behold, we came upon it. “Mony ka chashma,” everyone called it. So this was “Sami’s Pool.” There were so many little pools around it that it was perfect spot to come to with a few friends. Everyone could have their own spot to dunk themselves in and just lounge around. When I got home I showered and went to sleep early. In expectation that it might be super windy again I wanted to get up early and swim.
Day Four – The Rocks
The next day for breakfast I ordered the gotaala eggs and a paratha. The eggs were good. I was hungry so I ate a lot. When I headed to the beach, I saw an old man with two little kids sitting by this boat parked permanently in front of the hotel.
“Baba,” I said addressing him, “Baluchi ho?” Are you Balochi?
He nodded. I looked over at the kids. They looked like they were five. Adorable age! I asked the old man to tell them to help me look for shells. The one who got the most beautiful one would get a prize, I told him to tell them. The little boys tailed me, picking up a shell every once in a while and asking me, “Shoki?” which means beautiful. Sometimes I said yes and other times no just to keep them interested.
When we were near the water, I placed them on a spot and gestured that we would race back. I let them have a huge head start and then signaled, “Go.” When I ran they started running too. One of them stopped half way but the other kid whizzed towards his father.
Once I thought I had left them to his safekeeping, I sprinted towards the water to swim. It was lovely. The kids had followed me thinking it was another race. They played in the water, splashing around in it and laughed. The laugh of a child when they love something is one of the most beautiful sights in the world.
After the swim I changed and decided to go sit on the beach and listen to music again. Amir had placed an umbrella on the beach and even though it didn’t create a huge shadow, it was good enough to lie on without stretching the legs. The dogs that were not present before turned up. First they fought one another and then ran away.
20 minutes into listening to my Ipod, the canines returned as a group. One of them started walking directly towards me. I was lying down. When I saw that the dog was literally coming to where I was sitting I sat up. When it kept coming closer, without breaking a stride, I was surprised. I picked up my shoe and gestured as if I would throw it at it. It always worked before. The dog was unfazed and kept coming closer.
When it reached me, I naturally went into my Maula Jat mode.
“Kuttaayyyy! Jao! Jao!” I yelled waving my hands around. Go! Go
Finally I put the shoe down and just looked at it, frozen. The dog came all the way up to my sheet and plopped just itself on the edge of it. I was so shocked I got up in a hurry and pulled the spread towards me, worried the dog was going to pee on it again. I grabbed my hat, my Ipod and headphones and stood up moving away hurriedly from the umbrella. The dog couldn’t care less what I was doing. When I looked at it I realized what was happening. It wanted shade and it was taking mine.
“Damn!” I thought as I trudged through the sand back to the hotel with all my gear. I guess the dogs owned the beach. And why not? They spent more time on it than anyone else. Taking my shade and space was a bit much. I guess I could have just sat there but then that’s not me. I would have been just staring at it like a nut and not enjoyed one second of being there.
It was my second last day and I had decided I was going to go for a walk in the cliffs on the other side to find more rocks that have the clear imprints of shells in them. It was the coolest present possible for a child. I usually took a sandwich for myself and some chips and a banana for Amir when he didn’t return to the hotel and waited for me. The medium cheddar I had brought had matured to a nice vintage from the heat and I was enjoying eating it with the milky bread.
While I waited for it to get a little cooler a the hotel I looked through my photos. I had over 300. As I went through them, finding them all amazing, I noticed I didn’t have any photos of a single person. Those who didn’t know me used to complain that there weren’t people in my photos so they didn’t like them much.
It wasn’t going to make much difference in Ormara. There were hardly any people to begin with. A person in my shot is at the periphery of it anyway. They accent the photo, like a butterfly in a garden, never appear as the central figure in it. Two countries which I have photographed extensively, Morocco and Syria, the locals never allow a shot of them. When I saw them being asked politely by foreigners if they could take a photo, there was always a firm “No.”
Baluchistan is the largest province of my country in terms of land mass, 40% but has a tiny fraction of the population. Of the 220 million in Pakistan, there are only 12 million Baluchis. My Mamu had once said if he was asked for a single suggestion for the bettering of the country’s future, he would have said, “Close the educational institutions for a year and have the college kids from each province spend that year working with and for the people of another province.” I would have loved to be in a team for such an undertaking and Baluchistan would be my choice.
It’s too bad no one thought to do it last year when COVID had all schools closed anyway for months. But then I guess people weren’t traveling around either. To that end I had noticed since I had entered the province that not one person had been donning a mask. Whether it was the staff at the hotel or the army personnel at the check posts, even the guests. Like much of Pakistan, Corona didn’t “exist” here.
Meanwhile the one time I checked Drudge through Amir’s phone, I saw that the “showdown” of forcing people to take the vaccine had begun elsewhere. A prison guard in New Mexico had been fired for declining to be jabbed and he had sued the prison. The article said that the vaccines could not be mandated since trials were still being conducted but the conversation about “vaccine passports” was intensifying.
The route the Federal Government and the UK were going to take was already hinted at. The private sector would be “encouraged” to allow either vaccinated or those tested negative for COVID-19 to enter their establishments. Since the testing route was not going to work for every weekend or all other times one wanted to see a movie or eat at a restaurant, the vaccine would ultimately end up being the only option. The most worrying issue being acknowledged globally was around inequality. Would it be exacerbated making an already terrible imbalance worse?
In Pakistan only the elite were discussing vaccines. That too only because of travel. The airlines were going to require a jab for sure. So if one didn’t mind staying put, in Pakistan the government was not going to be mandate it. They had never been able to make the public do anything.
A few years ago, for security reasons, it was decided that each person had to prove through a government-issued ID that they owned their phone sim or the number would be terminated. For months there was a huge fuss around it as people scrambled to establish their link to their numbers. Last week first in Lahore, because I thought the sim to get for Ormara was from Telenor and then in Karachi, when I found it was actually UFone, I had a sim in my hand in 10 minutes from two different drivers, one of whom I didn’t even know.
Then there was the push to widen the tax bracket. It was totally fair ask, since apparently of the 200 million plus people living in the country, the number of filers was 2 million. Of that 700,000 were only added in 2019 after the Prime Minister begged for an IMF loan which mandated the broadening of the net.
First he said the purchase of cars would not be allowed for non-filers. Then, to really turn on the pressure, he made the purchase of real estate impossible for non-filers. So what happened? No cars were bought or sold for months. The real estate market came to a screeching halt. In the game of who blinks first, in Pakistan its always the government.
I was one of the idiots who did become a filer even though I didn’t even have any taxable income. Even my accountant kept saying to me, “I highly recommend you don’t enter the system.” But then I was like, “I file taxes in the States because the Government requires it, income or no income. I should do it in my own country.”
Now I just run around in June collecting documents from banks, hating it the whole time and hoping I don’t get a notice, because if I do, then I will apparently also enter the other “system;” the corruption that rules the FBR. Meanwhile, three years on, the Government has yet to extract a single cent from over hundreds of billions that the Sharif Brothers and Zardari and others have in wealth all over the world.
Wealth, about which I had just read in Al Fath Ar Rabbani; “For the one weak in faith, it renders them arrogant, astray and decadent.”
While I sat in my room reading an excellent personal history piece in an old New Yorker, The Florida Shuffle, my bed facing the window towards the parking lot, I saw cars and their occupants coming and going. The hotel was cheap; Rs. 5,000 for a room facing a beach. With food for three meals for the day from the restaurant, it was less than $40.
That was nothing compared to going up to the mountains, where if one wanted to stay at the expensive hotels, because they were ridiculously beautiful, you could easily spend upwards of $300 a day with a car rental and food. If not more. Some people were just using tents on the beach which were only Rs. 1,500 a night. That meant anybody from Karachi could afford it, even students.
The fact that there was no internet, no electricity, no hot water turned out to be good. Environmentally speaking. When something isn’t available, it’s pretty easy for the mind to accept and adjust to it. Except maybe the internet. I think people can no longer live without it.
The more I thought about it, when something is available in abundance, the use of it is entirely unchecked. There is tremendous wastage. Whether it comes to light or water or food. I bathed over five days in water I might use in one long shower in Lahore in the winter. I used electricity for two hours at night at best.
I decided to have a cup of tea in the little balcony outside my room and stare at the water. There I had an idea. Summer was fast approaching and the ads for lawn were starting to appear everywhere in each city. Giant billboards of cloth made by dozens of designers trying to capture as much as possible of a large market.
I have a friend in Lahore who is a designer. I made a mental note to tell her to use the cliffs and water as the base to place her fabric over rather than the skin of a model. Have the biggest billboards and put a print just over the water with the cliffs looming behind it and to reverse it in another. Drape the mountains with the fabric and show the water as is. Or the sand. Or the sky. In my head it looked stunning. You wouldn’t even need the model. I laughed to myself; I had uncovered yet another way to minus people from the scene.
Day 5 – Saying Goodbye
When I rose for Fajr I stepped outside after the prayer to see the dawn. I wondered if I should stay awake till the sunrise which was still about half an hour away. Why not, I thought? I could always nap in the afternoon. I put on a jacket and stepped out onto the beach. It was a different kind of serene at that time of the day. I had been on the beach all by myself many times over the last few days but there had been dogs and birds. Now there was no one.
I took my Ipod and listened to Surah Yaseen and started walking, waiting for the sun to appear. When it did, it was difficult to tell apart in appearance from when it sets. Although when it sets it’s at its peak and when it rises, it’s as if new. It was Friday so lots of people were expected but not till after noon. I decided to have breakfast and head for a swim. The water was calm again like a pool. On top of that it was inviting only me.
After the swim I called Amir to clean the porch that I had made messy with sand and water. He was wearing a hat. It was the first time I had seen him in one, despite the intense sun, in which he had been driving me around and as soon as I saw him it clicked.
For a few days now I had been thinking his face was looking familiar to me. But then I thought, everyone looks like someone. When I saw him in the hat I knew who it was.
The indian actor in Ram Leela. For the life of me I couldn’t remember his name so I took his phone and googled it.
Ranveer Singh! Super famous and married to Deepika!
It spent a couple of minutes trying to find a normal shot of him where he wasn’t in extreme pose but then just gave up. l turned the screen towards him and said,, ““You look this guy. Right?”
He peered at the screen and then burst into a smile.
“Lagte ho ke nahin, khud batao.” Do you or don’t you. You decide!
He kept smiling. “Ji.”
I told him the guy was huge star in India. He didn’t have a clue who he was. It was beyond refreshing. No one in any big city in Pakistan doesn’t not know him. Especially after he had been playing the lead in the last few of Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s movies. I didn’t watch many Indian films but Bhansali was as stylistic a director as they came.
I didn’t like the last movie much because I felt he had the same scenes as some of his other ones, pretty exactly, which was strangely unoriginal but hen I realized I do exactly that in my writings. I repeat the same verse or insert the same hadith, sometimes even an incident from my personal life in several of my pieces. I wished he would make a biopic instead of the epic stories. I think he would like it. He’s very sensitive.
The day was going to be slow. Since the driver was arriving later, I wasn’t going on a bike anywhere. I would just take the keys and go by myself to one spot that I wanted to photograph again. The car meant I could take tea, something to snack on, sit on and chill out, when the sun was going down. Till then I thought I would read something else from the New Yorker.
I found a fascinating piece on Amazon, The Unstoppable Machine. It was riveting from the beginning. In 2017, Gates asks for a meeting with Bezos. He suggests Tuesday or Wednesday. Bezos’ assistant calls and tell him both days are open. Bezos turns around and says, “Make it Thursday.” Let the power plays begin!
After I carefully went through my colossal shell collection and chose the ones I would take to Karachi. It was then that I also happened to look into a window which had a reflective coating on it that made it a mirror. I was taken aback at how dark my face was. I kept coming closer and closer to it, tilting my face in all directions, then pushing my t-shirt below my neck to confirm if I was really that dark. Not burned, just a super dark shade of brown.
“Damn!” was my first thought. Karachi was fine but Lahore?
The elders in my family alone would be like, “What happened?”
“Oh well,” I thought. I still had one more swim day before me and it was in the morning so another shade yet was possible. The cool thing was I couldn’t see the dark circles around my eyes at all. That happens anyway when I travel. The “raccoon” eyes that I have in Lahore change and become hardly noticeable but this was different. The area was not only clear, it was super smooth.
“Maybe your whole face has become a dark circle,” my brain conjectured.
I laughed and reminded myself I had one more swim day left before heading to Karachi. I spent the afternoon writing. A large group of what looked like police cadets had arrived. There were 16 single tents on the beach. Meanwhile the driver called and told me he would be arriving by 6pm. That was perfect in terms of me driving the car somewhere to catch the sunset.
By the time I reached the sun was already over the cliff so I just walked around the beach and collected yet another kind of shell. I listened to a lecture by Sheikh Nurjan, which I was not expecting to do. It was about surrender. I didn’t get far. It was very intense and it made me cry a lot; The Immense Power of Nothingness.
“The real power is to be nothing. When you are nothing and you are reading the Quran, you have to know that Allah is not talking to you. Because you are nothing. You have to annihilate yourself. In your nothingness you will enter the ocean of Everything.”
That was the preface. Then he began the talk:
“And always it is a reminder for myself, this reality and this path is like a fine thread and has to be described by the Ahl il Baseera, the ones granted His Vision, for they taught the reality, they saw the reality and Allah burned its haqaiq, truths, into their soul. And each reality has its darajaat, ranks and an infinite journey towards the Lord of Power.
There are two doors to this reality. One is in your approach to the Divine, in which you think of yourself as something and you want to know about your something-ness. You begin to read religious texts and it seems like a dialogue between you and your Lord. And you pursue that way of thinking and you drift, some slow, some fast, each farther and farther and farther away from the haqaiq, the truths.
So the Auliya Allah, the Friends of God, came, by all their struggles, to guide people through a different door. They say the secret of reaching reality is to negate yourself at this door.”
Then he spoke the verse of the Prophet Yunus (as), Jonah, from tbe belly of the whale where he was in darkness for 40 days;
أَن لَّا إِلَٰهَ إِلَّا أَنتَ سُبْحَانَكَ إِنِّي كُنتُ مِنَ الظَّالِمِين
There is no god except You, Glory be to You! Indeed, I have been of the wrongdoers.
“He says, ‘Glory be to Allah for I am an oppressor to myself.’ So write on your paper that I’m coming through the door of an oppressor. I myself have caused all the problems. And the dua, the supplication, of the oppressor is not accepted. So you don’t have to worry about making duas. That is why you should read the dua of the Sultan e Auliya. Never a word about themselves, or their importance or of why this and why that.
Their wording is astonishing.
Ya Rabbi, I’m coming through the door of kufr (being ungrateful, denying the Truth). If I have a choice between belief and disbelief, I choose to come through the door of disbelief. Who am I to say what I believed was correct, what I did was correct. I’m coming negating myself that I don’t think I did anything right. I’m an oppressor to myself. I know my bad characteristics. Deflate yourself before Allah deflates you.
The one who went through the other door is inflating themselves. Continuously thinking about their importance, their relationship with Allah. They end up in an orbit outside the circle, inside which is Muhammad Ar Rasool Allah (saw) and Allah.
Then the tareeqa, path of spirituality, comes and teaches you, ‘Accept yourself to be nothing, coming through the door of nothingness. In your nothingness you enter into the ocean of everything. The one who came into the ocean, into the ocean of Muhammad Ar Rasool Allah (saw), then all the teachings begin to make sense. Otherwise it will always remain confusing to you.’”
It started getting dark so I drove back to the hotel. I checked my email once now that I was going to re-enter the world and saw the traces of madness waiting for me on the other side. Dysfunction I was able to escape for a few days. But how could I complain? The truth is that I had come to Ormara to cry. To grieve. To mourn the loss of my father that I felt like I was unable to do in Lahore.
The only time I did end up crying here it was for my relationships with the living. That I wanted to love and love me back but it didn’t look like it was happening anytime soon. Although funnily enough, they too wanted the same thing. To love and be loved! Even while wanting the same thing we were not able to come closer to it. I still don’t know why.
There was always hope. Perhaps in the waiting and wanting, at least our intention was clear as day. And the reward of that intention as outlined by God’s Beloved (peace be upon him) himself was deliverance any way you looked at it.
“The Momin is the one who loves and is loved. And there is no goodness for the one who does not give love and receive love. The best amongst people is the one who gives others benefit.”
It made every single person in the Universe, in one sense, a Mo’min, the one who has Imaan in the heart. Knowingly or unknowlingly!
The Departure – The Last Swim
The large group that arrived the night before blared music till late. I turned the fan on and passed out. It drowned out any noise anyway because the regulator wasn’t working and it sounded like a helicopter.
In the morning after Fajr, I lay in bed wondering if I should step outside again when music started blaring again. That was a shock! It was one thing to “party” but early morning, what the hell? The lack of regard towards the other hotel guests was brazen. Later I heard it was apparently the “alarm” for the group. Like a 7am wake up call!
It was the first cloudy day I had seen in Ormara. There were many people on the beach already. I wondered if I should swim or not thinking the water would be cold if the sun wasn’t even out. I decided to walk to the water in my regular clothes. When the water lapped against my feet, it was warm and welcoming. It wasn’t even 8am. I hurried back and changed into my suit, wore my water shoes and came back.
Like the first day the water was super still. I walked in and kept walking till it was at my shoulders. When I turned around I couldn’t even find my bag that I had placed near the water so I had a towel to wrap myself in before heading to the room. When I lay back to float, my eyes turned towards the sky and I saw the moon. “Hi Moonie,” I said, my usual greeting for it.
A few days ago when the waves were slightly rougher, I had begun reciting my favourite surahs of the Quran in tajweed, the rules of recitation, to make them still. Like it would have been magic. They had only slapped my face more. Today when I recited the surahs, it felt like the water listened. And the moon listened and even my heart listened to my tongue, as if separate from it.
After having my last gotalaa with the driver and finishing off the milky bread, I got the Frisbee I had brought and looked for Amir. It was a perfectly still day, wind of zero km. I found him cleaning a room.
“Amir, come!” I beckoned him and started walking away. “And bring that other guy who cleans the rooms as well.”
He looked hesitant. And busy.
“Come,” I insisted, “I’m leaving. This will take a minute.”
He walked behind me as I went to a spot on the side of the hotel where it was flat and there were no people. I told both of them what I knew how to throw it. Use the wrist and the upper arm. Let go of the disc when the arm is stretched straight.
Amir was a natural. His throws were better than mine. Abbas was just as good. We threw it around a few times in a circle. Then they looked like they wanted to go back to the cleaning.
“Chalo,” I said parting ways, “Khelna zaroor.” Don’t forget to play.
After I made sure I had everything in my room, a thought occurred to me. I should go on the beach one more time and say thank you. I got the idea from my friend Zee. Whenever she sees something beautiful in nature and her heart leaps because of it, she immediately goes into sajda and prostrates in gratitude to God. I’ve seen her do it my whole life and always laughed like it was the first time. I didn’t wear the water shoes I had worn the whole time I had been in Ormara. I walked barefoot in the sand.
It was soft and cool. I walked near the edge of the water and kneeled. The sand touched my forehead and I said a prayer. Any break from routine in a surrounding of nature is a “refresh” button for the soul and the heart, the mind, one’s entire being. Clarity is always gained in some way even when one is not alone. I like that the most about being away from everything. Sometimes that clarity, that one feels is so uniquely theirs, benefits another. Then purpose is truly fulfilled.
When we used to stay at the naval base, it was always for three nights. On the last afternoon, we would always head up to the top of Hammer Head to have a tea and watch the sunset from the towering height. It was always a lovely change, a unique perspective. On the way there it would be light still so we would sometimes stop to take photos.
The navy likes to write on rocks. Mostly they write the names of God. But my favourite was always this one line on this one rock painted blue. It made me feel welcome having been there and welcome to return. It would become the thought on my mind whenever I left this piece of heaven, the only time I entered Baluchistan and interacted with Baluchis, who like their mountains of earth were soft and humble. And the line made my heart, which constantly has to stop itself from giving up on people, feel happy and hopeful, yearning, in regards to both Ormara and the ones I love in my life;
Phir kab aao gey?
When will you come back again?
Sonakshi Sinha and Jaey Gajera Showing Tevar together at Fever 104 FM Radio Station to Promote upcoming Indian 2015 Bollywood film Tevar.
Twitter.com/JaeyGajeraIndia
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नई दिल्ली. संजय लीला भंसाली की फिल्म ‘बाजीराव मस्तानी’ दर्शकों को बेहद पसंद आ रही है. रोमांटिक कपल शाहरुख-काजोल की जोड़ी को पीछे छोड़ रणवीर-दीपिका की जोड़ी ने बॉक्स ऑफिस पर धमाल मचाया हुआ है.
फिल्म ‘दिलवाले’ और ‘बाजीराव मस्तानी’ एक ही दिन रिलीज हुई थी. ...
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Watch the movie reviews and trailer of Deepika Padukone's most awaited movie "FINDING FANNY" on..........http://www.hichkey.com/finding-fanny-movie-review/
Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela Trailer | Ranveer Singh, Deepika Padukone
www.rangooski.com/video/3233/goliyon-ki-raasleela-ram-lee...
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Priyanka Chopra popularly called as Pee Cee has been born on July 18th 1982 and she has been entertaining the audience from the past 14 years in Bollywood. She shot fame with Krish starring Hrithik Roshan though she has done number of films. Her performance along with her sizzling presense on screen made her widely popular across the country. This dusky beauty too slowly entered the big league of Bollywood actresses currently. Priyanka Chopra is now 34 years of age and she got International recognition with her American tv series Quantico. She even impressed the International circles with her performance and grabbed the Best Actress award for Popular People’s Choice awards which is a prestigious one.
She struggled during the initial days of her career and all her movies ended as debacles at the ticket window. It was Hrithik Roshan’s Krrish which gave her the much needed relief as an actress. Though she suffered failures throughout her career, movies like Don, Fashion, Dostana, Agneepath, Barfi, and Krrish 3 made her one of the leading actress in the B Town. She surprised everyone with her performance in Mary Kom as a boxer. She played Kashibhai in Bajirao Mastani directed by Sanjay Leela Bhansali and the movie has been declared as the biggest blockbuster in the recent times. Ranveer Singh and Deepika Padukone played the other lead roles in the film.
Priyanka is one of the hottest actresses in the B Town and she has done many glamorous roles in her Bollywood career of 14 years. Priyanka’s bikini acts in her films are widely popular and her images have been making rounds among the internet. Priyanka Chopra’s hot photos are trending all over and her movies got good recognition. Priyanka Chopra’s upcoming movies include Jai Gangaajal in the direction of Prakash Jha which will hit the screens soon. She will be seen as a powerful cop in the movie which will release soon.
Priyanka Chopra won number of awards including National award, 5 Filmfares and she has been honoured with Padma Shri by the Indian government for her contribution to Indian cinema. Priyanka is a fashion freak and she has been endorsing various International brands and she has been active in fashion shows and prefers to sizzle on the top magazine cover pages. She is one of the highest paid Indian actresses and she has done films with all the leading actors. Her American tv series Quantico kept her busy and she has not signed in Bollywood film as of now. Along with these she has done her own music videos which got her wide recognition.
Priyanka Chopra signed her first Hollywood film beside Dwyane Johnson and the movie has been titled as Baywatch. The film is based on the American tv series and will be directed by Seth Gordon. Priyanka Chopra is all set to play the negative lead in the movie and she has recently revealed the news through her twitter account. She also turned producer and is producing movies. Priyanka Chopra won National award for her outstanding performance in Fashion. goo.gl/PHNhxC
Gunday(6)：Bikram(Ranveer Singh)とBala(Arjun Kapoor)が、Nandita(Priyanka Chopra)の誘いでMetro Cinemaに映画を観に行くシーン。その最初のショット。
Ranveer Singh & Jaey Gajera Takes a Selfie together at the Audio Launch of Yash Raj Film's Next Production KILL / DIL.
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Deepika Padukone feels happy to talk about her chemistry with Ranveer Singh! - www.bolegaindia.com/gossips/Deepika_Padukone_feels_happy_...
Actress Deepika Padukone says she is in “state of shock” over the attack on director Sanjay Leela Bhansali during the shooting of his directorial venture Padmavati in Jaipur. Ranveer Singh and Shahid Kapoor, the lead actors of Bhansali’s Padmavati too slammed the attack on the...
thebangladeshtoday.com/2017/01/bhansali-attack-padmavati-...
The #ViralBeer - #Befikre : Oops! #VaaniKapoor Faces #WardrobeMalfunction Because Of #RanveerSingh?
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Befikre 6th Day Collection: Here is the updated box office report of the latest Bollywood movie Befikre. The movie which released on December 9th has completed 6 days at the box office til today. The movie has collected Rs. 43.22 Crores in the first 5 days in India. The movie released with huge...
www.reviewrating.org/befikre-total-6-days-collection-6th-...
Parineeti Chopra & Jaey Gajera Takes a Selfie together at the Audio Launch of Yash Raj Film's Next Production KILL / DIL.
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Mohe Rang Do Laal Bajirao Mastani 2015 Hindi Movie Full HD Video Songs Free Download
Mohe Rang Do Laal Bajirao Mastani Hindi Movie Video Songs Information:
Song Name: Mohe Rang Do Laal.
Movie: Bajirao Mastani (2015).
Singers: Pandit Birju Maharaj, Shreya Ghoshal.
Starring: Ranveer Singh, Deepika...
songs-pk.download/mohe-rang-do-laal-bajirao-mastani-video...
Gunday(7)：Bikram(Ranveer Singh)とBala(Arjun Kapoor)が、Nandita(Priyanka Chopra)の誘いでMetro Cinemaに映画を観に行くシーン。看板からカメラが移動して“Mr. India”のポスターが写しだされるところ。アングルは少し異なる。
Gunday(11)：Bikram(Ranveer Singh)とNandita(Priyanka Chopra)が会っているのを知って、身を隠していたBala(Arjun Kapoor)がカルカッタに戻り、Bikramを撃とうとするシーン。誤ってNanditaを撃ってしまって逃げるBalaを、A. C. P. Satyajeet Sarkar(Irrfan Khan)が追うところ。
Gunday(12)：Bikram(Ranveer Singh)とNandita(Priyanka Chopra)が会っているのを知って、身を隠していたBala(Arjun Kapoor)がカルカッタに戻り、Bikramを撃とうとするシーン。一瞬見失ったBalaを、A. C. P. Satyajeet Sarkar(Irrfan Khan)たちが探すところ。アングルは全く異なる。写真では川に沈みかけているブリッジの先に桟橋があり、映画はそこからHowrah Bridge(写真では影のみ)方面を撮ったもの。
British High Commission celebrated 30 years of the Premier League with Premier League India‘s brand ambassador Ranveer Singh, who joined us for the celebration for Indian fans in Mumbai.
#PL30 celebration brought together football communities and guests witnessing the unique drama, excitement and energy at the reception.
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Best of Bollywood movies and stars
This is a list of all the Indian films available for streaming on Netflix in the US as well as some Hollywood movies featuring notable Indian actors.
Newly added or expiring films are featured at the top. Hindi-dubbed versions of South Indian films are listed under the " Other Indian and Pakistani Movies on Netflix "
play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.erosnow&hl=en
Best Bollywood Movies
Here's a list of top 20 Bollywood movies of all time based on the Times of India critics ratings. These are some of the Bollywood movies which you can't afford to miss if you are a Bollywood junkie. So, go ahead and add all these movies on your watchlist.
1
Newton (2017)
4.5/5
Star: Rajkummar Rao, Pankaj Tripathi, Anjali Patil, Raghubir Yadav
A brilliantly acted, impeccably written, lovingly shot, humorous, yet poignant film that Indian audiences didn’t ask for, but need.
2
Dangal (2016)
4.5/5
Star: Aamir Khan, Sakshi Tanwar, Fatima Sana Shaikh, Sanya Malhotra
Dangal manages to engage the viewer with the wrestling tournaments and bring patriotic emotions to the fore.
3
Parched (2016)
4.5/5
Star: Tannishtha Chatterjee, Radhika Apte, Surveen Chawla and Adil Hussain
Parched takes you into a disturbing and thought-provoking territory. Even as it cleverly intertwines the stories of the three protagonists all of who have had a raw deal in life.
4
Pink (2016)
4.5/5
Star: Amitabh Bachchan, Taapsee Pannu, Kirti Kulhari, Andrea Tariang, Angad Bedi
Pink is a powerful statement on the existing feudal mindset of a majority of India, where men and women are judged by a different yardstick.
5
Udta Punjab (2016)
4.5/5
Star: Shahid Kapoor, Kareena Kapoor Khan, Alia Bhatt, Diljit Dosanjh
Post interval, the film is sometimes too indulgent and sluggish.
6
Talvar (2015)
4.5/5
Star: Irrfan Khan, Konkona Sen Sharma, Neeraj Kabi, Tabu, Gajraj Rao, Sumit Gulati
Talvar gets your mind ticking along the murders' mysteries while it moves your heart at two lives - and one truth - lost.
7
Tanu Weds Manu Returns (2015)
4.5/5
Star: Kangana Ranuat, R. Madhavan, Jimmy Shergill, Deepak Dobriyal
Tanu Weds Manu Returns is a total delight that keeps you laughing, sighing, cheering - and guessing throughout.
8
Queen (2014)
4.5/5
Star: Kangna Ranaut, Lisa Haydon, Rajkummar Rao
This film belongs to its director Vikas Bahl. Earlier, he co-directed the National-Award winning 'Chillar Party' with Nitesh Tiwari. Bollywood should blow bugles in his honour.
9
Satyagraha (2013)
4.5/5
Star: Amitabh Bachchan, Ajay Devgn, Manoj Bajpai, Kareena Kapoor, Arjun Rampal, Amrita Rao
More philosophical than fiery, Satyagraha adorns reality with gloss and loss.
10
Kahaani (2012)
4.5/5
Star: Vidya Balan, Parambrata Chattopadhyay, Nawazuddin Siddiqui
The story totally grips you and leaves you at a dramatic high.
11
The Dirty Picture (2011)
4.5/5
Star: Vidya Balan, Naseeruddin Shah, Emraan Hashmi, Tusshar Kapoor
The Dirty Picture is definitely not only your film for the week, but is a seminal work that will be studied in feminist discourses.
12
3 Idiots (2009)
4.5/5
Star: Aamir Khan, Sharman Joshi, R Madhavan, Kareena Kapoor
Rajkumar Hirani says so much, and more, without losing his sense of humour and the sheer lightness of being.
13
A Wednesday (2008)
4.5/5
Star: Naseeruddin Shah, Anupam Kher, Jimmy Shergill, Aamir Bashir
A Wednesday is an intelligent diatribe against terrorism, refreshingly packaged as a racy thriller, reminiscent of the Diehard series.
14
Padmaavat (2018)
4.0/5
Star: Ranveer Singh, Deepika Padukone, Shahid Kapoor, Aditi Rao Hydari
‘Padmaavat’ is an entertaining, large canvas experience, brought to life by strong performances combined with Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s stroke of visual brilliance.
15
Mukkabaaz (2018)
4/5
Star: Vineet Kumar Singh, Jimmy Sheirgill, Zoya Hussain, Ravi Kishan
Politics of caste, sports and workplace, Mukkabaaz launches a scathing attack on the system and hypocrisies of our society with a blend of love & humour.
16
Ajji (2017)
4/5
Star: Sushama Deshpande, Smita Tambe, Sharvani Suryavanshi, Abhishek Banerjee, Sudhir Pandey
The film is a morbid, melancholic and haunting tale of crime and justice that’s not everyone’s cup of tea.
17
An Insignificant Man ()
4/5
Star: Arvind Kejriwal, Yogendra Yadav, Manish Sisodia, Santosh Koli
The documentary follows Arvind Kejriwal and his newly formed political party as they start campaigning for the Delhi Legislative Assembly election and the struggles the party faces as it takes on Goliaths in the political arena.
18
Secret Superstar (2017)
4/5
Star: Aamir Khan, Zaira Wasim, Meher Vij, Raj Arun, Tirth Sharma
Young Zaira aspires to be a singer but faces several restrictions from her conservative father until she meets a musician who can make her dreams come true.
19
Bareilly Ki Barfi (2017)
4/5
Star: Ayushmann Khurrana, Kriti Sanon, Rajkummar Rao, Pankaj Tripathi, Seema Pahwa
Bareilly Ki Barfi is a hooray moment for Hindi cinema.
20
Toilet: Ek Prem Katha (2017)
4/5
Star: Akshay Kumar, Bhumi Pednekar, Divyendu, Sudhir Pandey, Anupam Kher
This film is a satirical take on the age-old ‘tradition’ of seeking fields to relieve ourselves
Sab Se Purani Dosti Humari :D
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Lahu Munh Lag Gaya - Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela | Ranveer Singh, Deepika Padukone, Richa Chadda, Gulshan Devaiah
www.rangooski.com/video/3223/lahu-munh-lag-gaya-goliyon-k...
Lastest Celeb Video Clip News
Video: Banter and Battle, Indian Super League promo
Abhishek Bachchan sends a video of his player scoring a beautiful free kick on the group chat and warns Virat Kohli, Hrithik Roshan, Ranveer Kapoor and Sourav Ganguly. Each of the celebrity owners responds to one...
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This time mycelebritywallpaper.com will discuss about Bollywood Actors Users Frank Hansen Artist Anikick Vasu Engira Khikeyan Simon 240 X 160 34 Kb Jpeg on August 8, 2014 by admin, Latest Wallpaper This time may be useful and can add insight for you. Back to Latest Wallpaper Currently Bollywood Actors Users Frank Hansen Artist Anikick Vasu Engira Khikeyan Simon 240 X 160 34 Kb Jpeg, this is the following Wallpaper :
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Bollywood Actors Users Frank Hansen Artist Anikick Vasu Engira Khikeyan Simon 240 X 160 34 Kb Jpeg , Bollywood Actress Model and Bollywood Actress Deepika Padukon 1024 x 768 151 kB jpeg, New Bollywood Hollywood Actor And Actress 522 x 800 71 kB jpeg, Imran Khan and Avantika Bollywood actor Imran Khan married Avantika 600 x 600 49 kB jpeg, Top Richest Bollywood Actors 300 x 225 17 kB jpeg, Top Best Bollywood Actors 437 x 433 28 kB jpeg, Bollywood actor Ranveer Singh spotted in navy blue kurta pyjama in 600 x 600 46 kB jpeg, topic views post subject bollywood coon bollywood coon 500 x 750 84 kB jpeg, Bollywood actors Hema Malini Randhir Kapoor Rakesh Roshan and Aasha 600 x 600 69 kB jpeg, After mythology fiction and a dance reality show on TV Gurmeet 600 x 600 73 kB jpeg, Generally speaking, childhood mesothelioma is considered to be unrelated to asbestos exposure How is Malignant Mesothelioma diagnosed?Malignant Mesothelioma will typically be suspected if the patient complains of chest pain, difficulty breathing, shortness of breath, chronic cough, or difficulty swallowing However, there are several treatment options for the management of the cancer
If diagnosed early enough, however, survival may potentially extend over many years All those seeking further information should fill out the brief contact form on this page to receive a mesothelioma and asbestos information packet detailing treatment and legal options Asbestos is a nature, yet toxic mineral that was used commonly in heavy industry
To obtain assistance with choosing a qualified physician in your area, contact the Mesothelioma Center's Doctor Match Program Medical researchers have spent decades investigating the disease and what causes it, and their findings are that asbestos exposure is the primary culprit Malignant Peritoneal MesotheliomaMalignant peritoneal mesothelioma is less common than pleural mesothelioma and represents approximately 15-20% of all mesothelioma diagnoses
What are Typical Patient Survival Rates Following a Mesothelioma Diagnosis?As mesothelioma is often diagnosed in its advanced stages, the prognosis from mesothelioma is often in the range of a year after diagnosis As with any disease or health condition, mesothelioma researchers have, over time, collected statistical information about mesothelioma Specialists can clarify the diagnosis and sometimes can afford more treatment options
An increased incidence rate led to more studies to improve treatment methods and survival rates There is a great deal of latency associated with asbestos exposure and the onset of mesothelioma
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It can take many years for those exposed to asbestos exposure to exhibit the effects of exposure and, as such, mesothelioma is most often diagnosed in older individuals, often up to 40 years following exposure Pericardial mesotheliomas occur within the mesothelial lining of the heart Late-stage malignant mesothelioma symptoms are more noticeable and commonly provoke someone to visit the doctor
The Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance will rush you a comprehensive mesothelioma and asbestos exposure information packet Mesothelioma - a cancer that typically attacks the lungs and abdomen - was profoundly rare until the industrial and commercial use of asbestos expanded in the 20th century Mesothelioma is associated with a long-latency period (often 20-50 years) after exposure
And pericardial mesothelioma occurs in the lining of the hearth, known as the pericardium
Bollywood Actors Users Frank Hansen Artist Anikick Vasu Engira Khikeyan Simon 240 X 160 34 Kb Jpeg Other Mesothelioma InformationMesothelioma Latency PeriodTypically, there is a great deal of time between an individual's exposure to asbestos and the development of asbestos-related health complications
This process involves the release of a molecule known as high-mobility group box 1 protein (HMGB1), which triggers a chronic inflammatory reaction that causes tumor growth What is the Typical Age at Diagnosis?The first diagnosis of mesothelioma typically occurs in men and women between the ages of 50 and 70 years
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Peritoneal mesothelioma occurs in the lining of the abdominal cavity in the membrane surrounding the organs of this region This aggressive surgery is performed frequently in early stage mesothelioma patients by Dr Emerging from the lining of the heart, pericardial mesothelioma is the most challenging to treat because of tumor location
Patient survival rates are often contingent on the treatments available to the particular patient UNCONTROLLED GROWTHAsbestos can trigger cellular production of oncoproteins, which cause mesothelial cells to ignore normal cell division restraints and become cancerous Effective therapies are available to relieve symptoms, and some treatments, like talc pleurodesis, can even prevent symptom recurrence
Bollywood Actors Users Frank Hansen Artist Anikick Vasu Engira Khikeyan Simon 240 X 160 34 Kb Jpeg How Common is Mesothelioma?New cases of mesothelioma are diagnosed in between 2,500 and 3,000 Americans each year Often patients will not encounter mesothelioma symptoms until 30-50 years following exposure to asbestos
These numbers, while significant, would indicate that mesothelioma is still a relatively rare disease, though incidence is expected to rise in the next decade according to projections Smoking can also aggravate other asbestos-related conditions such as asbestosis If you do seek a second opinion, feel free to contact the Mesothelioma Center's Doctor Match Program
Mesothelioma cancer most commonly develops in the lungs of people exposed to asbestos Over a long period of time, lodged asbestos fibers slowly inflame the lung's external tissue, often serving as a pre-cursor to the development of malignant mesothelioma Over time, damage caused by the fibers can result in the development of cancerous tumors
Child MesotheliomaChildhood diagnosis of malignant mesothelioma is extremely rare, although it has been documented Mesothelioma MisconceptionsThere are several common myths and misconceptions about mesothelioma In our packet you’ll find information about cutting-edge treatments, leading mesothelioma cancer center programs, and legal options you may have if you were exposed to asbestos
Anyway Read it,Laugh out,Collect our Celebrity Images and Be careful about like these type of Cheapers Play games...!!!
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Artist Anikartick,Chennai,India
Beat the Heat: A couple enjoys the bath to beat the heat at a Ranveer Canal in the Jammu on Sunday; many cities of India are facing heat waves condition with the days.
Photo Anand Sharma
NEW DeLHI, -Deepika Padukone has refuted reports of her impending marriage to rumoured beau Ranveer Singh, saying she has no plans to tie the knot anytime soon, reports BSS.
The duo has been plagued with wedding rumours for the last one month, with reports also suggesting that the “Bajirao...
thebangladeshtoday.com/2016/07/no-plans-get-married-time-...
Drama Ranveer & Ishani SCTV Episode 1-100 www.portalsinopsis.com/2016/04/sinopsis-drama-ranveer-ish... moby.to/5jm6gb
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