My First ghazal to a 12 year old kiddo....

Tawalat-e-shabe-gham badhati rahogi?
Mujeh kab talak aazmati rahogi?

Abhi to nahi baad marne ke mere…
Tum Aansoo Hamesha Bahaati Rahogi

Kabhi Gham Banegaa Husul-e-Tabassum
Kahaan Tak Bhala Muskurati Rahogi?

Guzar Jayegi ye Jawaani ki Sarhad…
Baharon ke Tum Geet Gaati Rahogi!

Sajenge Mere baad Palkon Pe Moti
Ye Zehmat Hamesha Uthathi Rahogi

Safeh-e-Hasti se Hum Uth Gaye phir
Naa Aayenge – Wapas Bulati Rahogi!

Hai Shahid Ke Sheron main Darde Zamana
Inhen Tum Sadaa Gungunati Rahogi!
(C) Shahid Sayed

I can explain.

Well, I too was a kiddo and was studying in class VIII at that time. The subject of my ghazal was of my age and was a visitor from a “neighboring” country.

She was cute - very cute with expressive eyes and lambi palken and beautiful hands which were always used to be covered with chudiyan. She was a die-hard fan of Imran Khan. For me, apna "Haryana Hurricane" was a superman as India had made it to the World Cup finals with some amazing cricketing display by Kapil Dev.

I remember my first argument with her was on the very same topic: Who is the greatest? Kapil or Imran. One time during an argument I got so irritated that I tore apart the picture of Imran Khan she was carrying....

Next day we were playing cricket and she was watching it from the neighbor’s house. I asked my friend ke " yaar easy ball dal na".... well, the next ball was easy and I treated it appropriately for a six. The ball landed near her so I went to get it. Upon my return I was given out as we had a rule that whoever hits a six would be out. I did lose my innings but had won her attention and something else....

From then onwards for about a month she became a center of my attention. Before that episode, mother’s face used to be last face I'd see before leaving for school and it would be mom that is the first person I see upon my return. No one noticed how this girl got inserted in between mom and me and how I used to rush back from school hoping to see her. I used to find her at 3:30 - 4:00 pm waiting for me by my neighbor’s door...

Month flew in the air and she was going back. I could not skip school on the day she was leaving. I was returning from school and saw the horse buggy in front of our building my heart sank. I could not go with neighbors to see her off, as there was no room in "ghoda gaadi" for an additional person. I did not get a chance to see her alone for the last time, to say something ....to say good bye...... She saw me and waved. She was looking pale and stressed.......

I walked behind the ghoda gaadi as far as traffic allowed me, then I found a bus station and stood on its railing to get last glimpse of her. The waving of her hands...those hands with Chudiyan, the rainbow colors of which I will never forget...

I wrote this ghazal a few months or weeks after that day. I added a new name behind my name and called it my takhallus (Pen name). I wrote my first ghazal as Shahid Tanveer. An Urdu newspaper published my first ghazal. My school principal posted at our school bulletin board. I remember all the adulation that came with this work of art. In those days saying ghazal was a sign of intelligence, intellect and sharafat.

However, a girl who made me write my first poetry is not even aware of this ghazal - no body in my family knows of its origins. I never met her again. Never heard of again... she became part of my imagination and will remain so.

Soon after that, Life’s 1000 lbs gorilla showed up to fight and I obliged. It’s been so many years now. The fighting has ended in a ceasefire and I think, barring a couple of deep scars I did not do that bad either. Now, I am free to pursue her, to find out more about her, to talk to her one more time. But I think she must be a married woman with grown up kids and a loving hubbby...

I am not even sure if she is still alive or dead. I don’t know whether those suicide bombings campaigns of "right wingers" of her country shredded her body into pieces. I don’t know if she survived the bombing campaigns from F-16s that have been going on recently in that part of the world.

When my friends from the "right side of the aisle" express a desire to "wipe out those terrorists", "nuke them into oblivion" and "kick some Muslim butts", my mind brings back those pictures from the past. I shudder at the possibility of a nuke dropping on her city evaporating her, those beautiful eyes, hands and those rainbow color chudiyan....

My mind shuts off beyond this point......

I hope you survived all the madness in this world and that you are alive today. I wish you a full life and I pray that happiness remains your constant companion Tanveer,---wherever you are…..

BTW I did apologize to her the next day for tearing apart Imran Khan's picture and gave her a 25 paise ki cadbury by saying " sorry haan...galti ho gayee!"....

This is how it is in the life lane...

Tawalat - Length, Shab-e-Gham - Night of sorrow, Husule-Tabassum - result of smiles
Zehmat - inconvenience, Saf-e-Hasti - Life