Barse shabnam falak se moti ban ke
Zulf-e-taabdaar se leke, palkon pe chhalke
Uske rukhsaar-o-lab se dil par tapki
Udaas Tamanna, shabnam se haar ke
बरसे शबनम फलक से मोती बन के
ज़ुल्फ़-ए-ताबदार से लेके पलकों पे छलके
उसके रुखसार -ओ -लब से दिल पर टपकी
उदास तमन्ना, शबनम से हार के
The dew descended on her from the heavens like a pearl…traversing a glorious path, from her curling locks onto her brow and eyelashes, moving down her cheek to kiss her lip, finally resting on her heart… Desire mourned; a plaintive plea: Oh! To be that dew drop!
( The beautiful rose, like a princess surrounded by guards, blossomed to lend a warm welcome to me on my wondrous visit to the Kumaon Himalayas, the glorious snow capped ranges bordering the north of India…Heaven indeed!)
India is a land of great cultural ethnicity, with a rich heritage of languages. Tulu, a dialect from South Kanara district, in Karnataka, is my mother tongue. Over the years, it has been a great privilege for me to learn many of our languages, including Hindi, English, Kannada,Telugu, Tamil, Malayalam, and some others on the way. Urdu, an integral part of India’s heritage, is renowned for its cultural history and has remarkable lyrical cadence and mellifluence, suited elegantly for poetic endeavours, much as my own attempt to pen a verse in this soulful language is that of a keen amateur.