Shiv's Asan Ta Joban Rute Marna

I have been looking for this poem for sometime. I wanted to read it but used to stop myself cause it reminds me the truth in my life. As much as i wish to run from it the truth always finds me...
Today i come back to this beautiful composition

Shiv Batalvi's Asan taan Joban Rute Marna

asaN taaN joban rutte marna
muRh jaana asaN bharey bharai
hijar tere di kar parkarma
asaN te joban rutte marna
joban rutte jo vi marda,
phull banney yaN tara.
joban rutte ashiq marda yaN koi karma wala.
yaN oh marn ke jehna likhai hijar dhuroN vich karma
hijar tuhada asaN mubarik naal bahishtiN khaRna.

sajjan ji,bhala kis lai jeena,
saadey jiha nikarma,
sootak(birth) rutt toN joban rutt takk
jehna handaiyaN sharmaN
jamnoN pehla audh(ummer) handaiye
phair handaiyee sharmaN
mar ke kariye ikk doojey di mitti di parkarma.

Par je mitti vi mar javey taaN jio ke ki karna.

Shiv's Mainu tera shabab

Hmmmm...... This ghazal reminds me of bygone times... i used to listen to this long long time ago...i still feel a little pain when ever i hear to this ghazal...

Shiv Kumar Batalvi's 'Mainu Tera Shabab'

Mainu tera shabab lai baitha
Rang gora gulab lai baitha
Vehel jad vi mili hai farzon taun
Vehel jad vi mili hai farzon taun
Tere mukh di kitab lai baitha

Mainu tera shabab lai baitha

Mainu Jad vi tussi ho yaad aaye
Mainu Jad vi tussi ho yaad aaye
Din dihare sharab lai baitha

Kinni beeti te kinni baki ae
Kinni beeti te kinni baki ae
Mainu eho hisab lai baitha

Mainu tera shabab lai baitha

Shiv nu ek gam te hi bharosa si
Gam to kora jawaab lai baitha

Mainu tera shabab lai baitha
Rang gora gulab lai baitha.

Separation... Birha Tu Sultaan

When you are faraway from your loved ones; the loneliness eats up your innards it tugs at your heart and makes you wish tis moment should never return but this is one feeling which brings you more firmly in touch with your inner feelings and wants ... your real wants ... above the materialistic world ... wants for which you can sacrifice everything...

Birha Tu Sultaan
Birha birha aakhiye,
Birha tu sultaan,
Jis tan birha na upje
So tan jaan masaan.

Asin sabhe birha ghar jammde,
Asin birha di santaan,
Birha khaaeyee birha paaeyee,
Birha aaye handaan.

Asin sab birhaan de mandarein,
Dhukde doof masaan,
Bin birha umar sugandheeyaan
Sabhe binsa jaan.

Birha seti upajiya,
Eh dharti te asmaan,
Birha seti sooraj jamman,
Dihoon paye gere khaan.

Mein vadbhaagi tera birha
Lar lahg mere aan,
Bin birha theen di theekari
Kise ujare kabristaan.

Aj sabe dhartiyaan meriyaan,
Te sabhe hi asmaan,
Aj sabhe rang hi nmaendree
Mere vihre jhummar paan.

Tu hi runne man meriya,
Kyun loche vasal handhaan,
Je disha dishaavaan aapaseen,
Milan kade na jaan.

Asaan joon handhaani mahik di,
Sanu birha da vardaan,
Saade is birha de naam taun
Kot janam kurbaan.

Birha birha aakhiye,
Birha tu sultaan,
Jis tan birha na upje,
So tan jaan masaan.


The english Translation is ...................

Let us speak of separation,
Separation is king.
A body that does not feel separation,
Is dead body.

We are all born in the house of separation,
We are children of separation,
We receive it, we swallow it,
We are on this earth to bear it.

In the temple of separation each one of us
Burns like incense,
Without separation every odor of life
Would perish.

From separation emerges
This earth, this sky.
From separation originates the sun
And the days revolve.

I was supremely fortunate that this separation from you,
Attached itself to me.
Without it I would have been just a piece of clay
In an empty graveyard.

Today all the world is mine
And all the skies.
Today every color sways
In my courtyard.

Why, my soul, like a woman,
Do you long for union?
Do different directions
Ever meet?

I must extract the very essence of fragrance,
For I have been given the gift of separation,
For the sake of this separation
I would give up a hundred births.

Let us speak of separation,
Separation is king.
A body that does not feel separation,
Is dead body.

I have felt separation for long enough...... now i want my loved ones .....forever n ever n ever...

Shiv Batalvi's Jee Chahe panchi ho jaavan

Someone requested the lyrics of Shiv Batalvi's poem Jee Chahe Panchi ho jaavaan... I revisited this poem after a very long time today and it resonated with the free bird within me which wants to be free and scale the heights of the ever expanding horizons..

There is something in Shiv's poetry which tugs at the invisible chords of emotion and makes you think and rethink about what you really want..

Panchi ho Jaavaan

Jee chaahe panchi ho jaavaan,
Ud daa jaavaan, gaunda jaavaan,
Anchuhe sikharaan nu Choo paavaan,
Is duniya deeyaan raahvaan bhul ke
Pher kade na vaapas aavaan.

Ja ishnaan karaan vich jam-jam
La Deekaan peeyaan daan da paani.
Maan-sarovar de beh kande
Tutta jiha ik geet maen gaavaan.
Ja baethaan vich khireeyaan royeean
Phakaar pauna itar-sajoeeyaan.
Him-Teesiyaan moiyaan moiyaan
Yugaan yugaan taun kakkar hoiyaan
Ghut kaleje maen garmaavaan.
Jee chaahe panchi ho jaavaan.

Hoe aahlana vich shatootaan,
Jaan vich jand, kareer, sarootaan,
Aaun poorere de seet faraate,
Lachkaare iyun laen Daaliyaan
JyuN koi Doli kheDe jaReeyaan
Vaal khalaari lae lae jhootaan.
Ik din aisa jhakkarh jhulle
Ud pud jaavan sab hi teelee
Be-ghar be-dar main ho jaavaan.
Saari umar peeyaan ras gham da
Aise nashe vich jind handaavaan,
Jee chaahe panchi ho jaavaan.

The english translation is as follows:

I wish that I could be a bird
That I could fly, that I could sing,
That I could touch untouchable peaks,
That I could forget the roads of the world,
And never return.

I would bath luxuriously
Drinking long sips of water.
By the shore of a great lake,
I would sing a halting song.
I would go into a flowering wilderness
Gulp the perfume laden winds.
I would warm in a tight embrace,
The peaks of mountains,
Deadened by centuries of freezing cold.
I wish that I could be a bird.

My nest would be among the mulberry trees,
On in the caper, the mesquite or the cypress.
When the cold east wind blew
The jewelled branches would bend
As if playing, swaying
With their hair flying in the wind.
One day there would be a storm
And all the twigs would all scatter.
Nestless, homeless, I would become,
For the rest of my life I would drink the nectar of sorrow
And live my life in its intoxication.
I wish that I could be a bird.