Laila and Majnoon the legendry lovers put in modern perspective.

 by the poet Akbar Allahabadi

Whispered Mother of Laila to Majnoon

Son! If you pass the M.A., soon

Without more ado, I will marry Laila to you                                         

And be gracious mother in law, to you too

Sayeth Majnoon;  Pity old woman!  You do not differentiate

The baloney and the ambience passionate

Between the natural ardour of an admirer

And the tedious explanations of the lecturer

What has gone wrong with you! Thou lady old

A deer is not made to carry load

Indeed poor appreciation of my personality

Like Harchran Das, I cannot be

I come to sacrifice my heart, and my intent make plain

But refuse to let you con me or strain my brain

If this be the condition of engagement

With hope and regret, I tender, herewith, my resignation

More of Iqbal-Sher

Be it the majesty of monarchy or the distraction of democracy,

Divorced from politics, there remains, but tyranny.

*********************************************************** 

Ay Qais*! Why has your passion gone cold?

(though) Laila** still has the same flair of being Laila.

*Legendary lover Majnoo

** Legendary beloved

Jibrael and Iblees............

Jibraeel (Gabriel)and Iblees, both, were angles, together in the heaven. Iblees was turned out of the heaven for disobeying God and turned into Devil
Jibraeel," Old friend! How is the world of colour and fragrance?"
Iblees,"    Full of heat of heart, of pain, wound, quest and
                aspiration."
Jibraeel," Of you, often in the heaven, angles mull over,

                Is it not possible, bygones ignored and your damaged wear be
                put back together?"
Iblees,"    Alas! Jibraeel! You are not aware of the secret profound,
                My broken glass of wine, truly, has bestowed upon me vision unbound.
                Impossible now my habitation here! Impossible here now my
                habitation! 
                How subdued is this place, without streets and bastion.
                The exuberance of universe, diminished by pervading nothingness,
                For such a place, neither despair nor hope, is goodness."
Jibraeel, " Repudiation has lost to you the pinnacles lofty,
                What appeal remains in eyes of God, for angles holy?"
Iblees, "   It is my fortitude that advancement fascinates man, of dust made,
                By my endeavour, the clothes of wisdom’s fibre made.
                Sitting on the shore, the war of good and bad, you eye,
                But who is receiving the blows of storm, you or I.
                Without hand and feet, helpless, are the wise and the prophet,
                My struggles from moment to moment span from river to river
                and from rivulet to rivulet.
                Enquire of God, if granted audience ever,
                Whose blood made the life of Man so full of colour?
                I am, niggling, like a thorn, in the heart of God,
                And you merely whine,” Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!”