Mentors

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سینے سے مرے زہر اترنے نہیں دیتے
زندہ رہیں وہ لوگ جو مرنے نہیں دیتے
- میر احمد نوید

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Speed-breakers

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I have been thinking of resuming writing for quite some time now and today I finally mustered up the courage to visit the 'create post' page of my blog. I feel a certain anxiety knocking  down my senses at the moment. Writing used to come so naturally once and now it comes with effort. What is good about it is that it is still has not abandoned me altogether. Like old friends, who have all gone about their ways, it still, at times, comes back and reminds me of the connection we once shared. All good things eventually come to an end - I just hope that does not happen with me and writing, at least not until this transient life comes to an end... What prompted me to write down this post after such a long time is my recent meeting with one of my teachers, with whom I had absolutely lost contact during the last five years. Life is very demanding. Its phases, very complicated. The responsibilities it encumbers us with, endless...  زندگی تیرے تعاقب میں یہ لوگ  اتنا چلتے ہی...
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Company or more specifically suhbah is a phenomenon whose effects are difficult to describe. There is this teacher of mine who always says that 'environment is silent speech' and I always used to think how right he was... The effects and impacts are so subtle that one does not even notice how one gets transformed without noticing it ever. There are few verses by Shaykh Sa'adi (rahimahullah) that I came across in a book called, Bayt ki haqeeqat . I am compelled to write them on my blog. The poetry is extremely beautiful and rhythmic. Someone who has ever experienced such company would testify to the truth contained in the verses of this hikaayat . Gili khushbooi dar hamaam roozi Raseed az dast-e-mahboobi ba-dastam Be-oo guftam keh mushki ya 'abeeri Keh az boo-e dil-aaweez e tu mastam Be-oo gufta, man gil-e naacheez boodam Wa-leekin muddati ba-gul nashistam Jamaal-e hum-nasheen dar man asar kard Wa gar na man hamaan khaakam keh hastam [One day in a hamaam* , I g...
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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. -Robert Frost
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