Kaiso Deewano Tho Pathar


This is one of my favorite Gojri ghazals written by Dr. Anjum Awan. The subtle references to glory of being and contradiction within the self  stand out in this ghazal. It asks more questions than answering them. It took me a few readings to understand or should I say to make out a meaning out of it. However imperfect or far-stretched it may be, it resonated with me. I could argue the act of reading does not constitute a single coherent way of it. Sometimes the reader decides to interpret a poem in a different manner. This decision is conscious at times. And sometimes the poems is ambiguous enough to render different interpretations.

I have tried to translate the Ghazal into English. This is a very rough translation. The first verse of the Ghazal is layered with meaning and it is very difficult to translate it to English and keep all those meanings intact. “Hun Dawa Likhto Rahyo” ¬† in Gojri is not just the act of prescribing medicine, it is also the act of correcting course. “Dawa Likhna” is a metaphor that Anjum Sb brings in from his professional medical life. Keeping that in view I favored a literal translation of verse which does seem a bit off and is not poetic.

“tain dilan ga rog laaya, hun dawa likhto rahyo
teri bedardi na vi, apni khatta likhto rahyo”

you wallowed in plays of the heart while I prescribed medicine
even your apathy, I passed as my own mistakes.

“main bhujaya, baalya, kai var yaadan ga diya
tere khaaban na dillan ga aasra likhto rahyoo”

I kindled and quenched candles of remembrace many-a-times
even your dream, I inscribed as succors of my heart

“teri majboori baja, var meri mehroomi te dekh
kaiso deewano tho pathar, na khuda likhto rahyo”

your reasoned complusion, but see my deprivation
how obsessed was the stone, kept on writing the name of God

“iss zamane na mera ik dard gi kaari na ki
hun teh lakhan vaaste ke ke dawa likhto rahyo”

This world remained oblivious to all my pains
and I was busy prescribing what all medicines for many

“main te ki qurban us vaaste apniyan raatan gi neend
woh vi mere vaaste chir tak saaza likhto rahyo”

I sacrificed the sleep of nights for him
He kept on writing penances for me, till late.


The silence of tulips and roses, western wind’s songs
The heart conceals the unheard, singing only the silent songs

What could i write of Delhi, its streets and taverns
It is but a word, composed of a thousand songs

Winter draws upon your eyes, fog, ice and cold
What’s left of summer, of monsoon drenched songs

Borders and boundaries, us and them
But wind’s a coward, it carries across many a songs

Will the blossoming garden wait for my return
Voice of shepherd, echoed as the mountain song

Travellers met but for a while, that seemed forever
“Have a safe journey”, they said, “such are life’s songs”

A wish is all that is left
When all is said, even the last love song

Who’s a poet, who’s Uzair
Isn’t thought absurd, all I am, a tangled song