Hunters the artists are, Not prey!
Al hamdu lillah, there has sbeen considerable progress on the new Malayalam book project. The cover design is done in state of the art style. There is charm and appeal for both eyes and heart. Almost three weeks of day-night deliberations, the artist was also tirelessly enthusiastic for its perfection.
When all was done, I could only thank and glorify Allah that it was destined to be so! Subhanallah!
This design is expected to be first of its kind in Kerala’s publishing industry. A new genre blending Persian Mysticism with modern symbols. The graphic details are well suited to the title, which is yet to be made public.
The process of Art is pretty, but more beautiful is the concept of it. And the new technology, especially with Adobe’s Creative Series, makes life easy. but one should remember that the idea which originate sin the heart of man is more precious than the expression of it on the screen or canvas.
So said Iqbal (himself a talented calligrapher)
Hunters the artists are,
Not the prey
May Almighty guide all the artists on the planet for contributing peace and sereniety. اّمين
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
My Poetic Wine from Madina’s Grapevine
The poem is in reference to comments of one reader (on this blog) about another poem of mine which he found distasteful, since it dealt with the romantic love of the poet’s lover. The poet regrets that a shift from his usual subjects, of God and His Beloved, seemed disturbing for his readers and assures them his soul of poetry is still rooted on the ‘same old wine’. He admits his own human weakness and begs the sincere readers for the same positive criticism in the future also.
Addressed to those dismayed with Jaihoon’s change in style
Last night an argument
Unfolded at the tavern
Their faces away turned
As they made anger plain
They felt at unease-
As the wine’s was taste else
‘Not the same as past
The ecstasy not lasts!’
Serve us the same old wine
Else with you we shall not dine
We are used
To your old Love
No other spade
Can our hearts plough’
I asked Him
For His Forgiveness!
I prayed to Him
For His guidance!
It was my own fault
For the trouble wrought
For the sake of change
I’d served another range
When lost-
In the rapture of love
I tossed-
A drink for my lady love
I was in a state
Of painful strain
My heart
In her dearth in strain
Yaqub always cried
For the separated Yusuf
Though his Lord
Was for him dear enough
I am a human-
After all!
To feel pain
Isn’t a sin at all!
My wine flows
From the well of heart
It has flaws
As others from under the earth
I am a shy-
Crazy fledgling
To wisely fly-
Am I just learning
‘Tis a truth real
I am hardly familiar
With paths of Jilan or Gazzal
I have knowledge not clear
My Friend
Is not from Tabrez
My Word
Is not from Shiraz
I ‘hold on
To my tiny being’
So that of smoke-
I become not a ring
O those who assemble
Near Jaihoon’s table!
It is your care
Which makes me dare
To serve you better
The drink of Madina’s master!
Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam
Your sincere protest
Is my confidence
Feel free to detest
When you are upset
If I serve you in repeat
Wine of other sort
Throw the cup at-
The face of poet!
My poetic wine
Finds its true soul
From the grapevine
Sown on Madina’s soil
Ya Mustafa!
Ya Mustafa!
Ya Mustafa!
The cosmos is
Never, ever exhausted
(Even if) Your praise is
A zillion times repeated!
Such blessed fortune
Is mine alone!
To suffer shame and blame
When away from you I turn!
The letters I was taught
At my mother’s lap and school
For your loving tribute
Shall I employ as a lavish tool
If I am not blessed
Due to the deeds I lacked
From al-Kawthar
I’d be barred
From a distance
Your face’d be looked
O Beloved!
The meaning
Of Love are you!
The synonym
Of Beauty are you!
O Muhammad!
Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam
No, I shall not wipe
The tears which flow
As I these lines I write
In the pain of your love
I save it
For the future
To keep it
As a fortune
To see the rivers
Of sweet Heaven
These salty drops
May become a reason?
O those who assemble
Near Jaihoon’s table!
It is your care
Which makes me dare
To serve you better
The drink of Madina’s master!
- Jaihoon
See http://www.jaihoon.com/egoptics/grapevine.htm for more details
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
So old, yet beat me in humility through word and deed
Mohammed Zahirudheen, Vice President of Iqbal Academy Hyderabad, has left for Hyderabad. Meetings with him were memorable and inspirational. Being so old, he would still beat me in humility, in word and deed. Although details of his discussions are too precious to be shared publicly, he would embarrass me at times by expressing his admiration for my activism.
He showed me many more innovative ways in the appreciation of Allama Iqbal’s thoughts and works. He also fired a new wave of creativity by revealing new domains within my own works where I could improve and expand the ideas. He was always liberal to discuss various issues and clear doubts. He would tirelessly talk on implications of Iqbal’s thoughts with relevance to modern context, including the real estate craze which has taken the Arabian Peninsula by craze.
Today afternoon, I was surprised when I received a call in middle of sleep from an Urdu scholar and activist from Kerala. He told me that I was referred to by Mr Zahirudhin from Hyderabad. I then realized how seriously the scholar had taken my casual request and the speed he acted upon it. Within a day of reaching Hyderabad from Sharjah, he bothered to get it done (although he had landed there at a critical situation – the death of the President of Iqbal Academy, Prof Syed Sirajudheen.)
It is my fortune that Mr. Zahirudheen, who could be relatively considered a selfless ascetic scholar in this materialistic era, generously gave a Foreword for my upcoming second edition of The Cool Breeze From Hind.
May Allah grant him more years of health and wisdom.
اللهم Ø§Ø´Ø±Ø Ù„ÙŠ صدري ويسر لي امري. اّمين
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
‘Sleepy’ joy!
I have been losing sleep since last 10 days… a promise I had made to have an essay written for submitting to a Review journal. Al these days I was behaving like a zombie, with toal messed up short-term memory and fatigue. After much struggle, I was able to complete it by the grace of Almighty.
And now, al hamdu lillah, I feel relieved and happy… thinking of having some good sleep to compensate the lost hours… but I am sure that this wish would be defeated by another sel-styled ambition of another dimension.
Life is a struggle. Those who think that they are enjoying it are also in a struggle as they they cannot stop from enjoying it!
Thus said Allama Iqbal, my ego-mending Mentor-
Life means a passsionate burning
An urge to make
To cast in the dead clay
The seed of a heart!
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
FORGET it
My hand moved to call my love
But for get it
I rushed home from the busy world
But forget it
I rubbed my blurred eyes
But forget it
I danced in joy with your mirage
But forget it
I enjoyed your face in sleep
But forget it
I jumped while in my dream
But forget it
I held the pillow close to heart
But forget it
I held my breath
But forget it
O compassionate Shirin!
Your Farhad is in pain!
O passionate Leila
Majnun’s gone pale, ah!
Your absence kills me-
Inch by inch
My soul suffers
Bit by bit
My senses shatter
One by one
If not by your presence,
Heal me by means else!
Jaihoon untied his bonded sorrows-
For her to know
But now…
FORGET it!
Monday, July 03, 2006
‘Stable Instability’
السلام عليكم
Even before starting this blog, I was more than sure that I wouldn’t be able to do justice for the practce of blogging, i.e., having it updated daily.
The month of June witnessed more offline tasks than online. Meeting with friends and strangers in the Media world has been more frequent. The world of Audio production has been enticing this restless bud since some time now. The unfamiliarity with the instruments and the techniques in singing, the studio etiquettes- blah, blah- is making me less self-confident. Like a baby crying of huger, not knowing what diet it wants…
The other day I wrote my friend that the only thing stable about Jaihoon is his instability. Can’t say it is beacoz of my innate nature or acquired from the influence of Tommorrow’s Poet- the vibrant zeal and dynamism spread throughout his works.
There is a write-up promised for someone to be published in a Review journal. The preparation is slow, but the ambition is high. May Allah help…
The amount of sleep hours has reduced considerably, although I am paying its price dearly. Since family has left for vacation, I stretch the mind and body to the maximum extend, and a lil more. May Allah forgive the excess.
Iraq bombings have become so common, it hardly creates any concern nowadays. Those in authority… let them solve their own accounts with the Merciful Almighty. Dua is all I can sacrifice for the brothers and sisters dying there…
Today is Monday…. اللهم صل على Ù…Øمد
