अग्निहोत्री+ईश

Posts pertaining to philosophy, technology and mythology are in the pipeline. But, first there must be a Ghalib encore. Like an Arijit Singh song, which can make even a forever alone guy recount his non-existent breakup, Ghalib can give hale and hearty folks a bout of major depression. If you think Hazaron Khwaishein Aisi was melancholic, you are going to be (un)pleasantly surprised. Presenting, Dil Hi Toh Hai .... Dil hi toh hai, na sang-o-khist Dard se bhar na aaye kyon? It

#poetry #hindi Kahaan kho gaya woh ladka, jo kad mein tha mujhse kum Kahaan kho gaya woh ladka, jiski mujhse thi dubli baahein Kahaan kho gaya woh ladka, jo zulfon me hawaon ko karta tha kaid Kahaan kho gaya woh ladka, jo nangi aakhon se dekh paata tha dur Kahaan kho gaya woh ladka, Jise log mere naam se pukaarte hain Kahaan kho gaya woh ladka, Jo beete dino mein, mai tha kabhi Kabhi dikhe kahin toh batana, Bohot arsey se nahi hui hai mulakat Ek baar fir aangan me laite, udte

#poetry Have you ever drank from the goblet of fullness? Gave the potion of joy a little swirl, Inhaled the sweet smell of serenity, Savoured a little sip of love. Beautiful wasn’t it? What about getting dunked into a barrel of poison? Your face stinging with the burn, Your lungs gasping for breath, Life slowly ebbing out with every gulp forced down your throat? I often wondered, which of the ingredients of this noxious concoction is the deadliest? Ashamed of the times we wer

'Hazaron Khwaishein Aisi' by the virtuoso Mirza Ghalib, is perhaps what you are made to read on your first day of Ghazal 101 class. It is also what you read on the last day of that course, because of its lingering simplicity and haunting ambiguity. Following is a humble effort on my part to try and decode it, five years after I stumbled upon it. Each original verse is followed by my English translation and an accompanying commentary. Hazaaron khwaishein aisi ke har khwaish pe

#poetry #college I wrote this piece on 2nd May '17, hours before bidding my alma mater - NIT Allahabad a goodbye. I will remember, The sky-kissed 7th floor room of SVBH; the cosily cramped 62 Tilak of final year. 8 AM practicals I attended reluctantly; walks around the campus late into the night. Auto trips to Civil lines akin to camel rides; cycling through the market by-lanes without a care. Cacophony and aroma which abound the mess; lip-smacking dishes at all-night canteen