Kya lab sach mei azaad hain ?

آزادی : Azaadi : Freedom.

Let me begin by reminding that when we were struggling for independence some 70 odd years ago,we were promised FREEDOM. An incredibly tempting verb which lured several people to give up their lives so that the future generations wouldn’t have to face what they did. And hence,when Pandit Nehru – the first Prime Minister of Republic of India announced :

 “At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom.”

We were elated. We were free. The much awaited Azaadi had finally arrived. Nobody wanted to have a taste of it they wanted to devour it. But almost 70 years down the lane, I still wish to question the concept of azaadi.16388369_1002843316483192_5396588553031423027_n

The leaders only prefer the bird’s eye view of the situation and are contented with the belief that India’s shining. We live in a country where the state interferes in the eating habits of the people and firmly believes that it has the right to do so. A country where a mob gathers to kill wreak havoc in the life of a person because he allegedly consumed beef. And witnessing an army official using human shield and getting recommendation for the same, is the kind of azaadi which we looked forward to. Women are unsafe even in the protective walls of their home. Farmers are forced to sit on repeated strikes and committing suicide seems like a lucrative option than working on their field.

Despite all this, we are still expected to keep ourselves locked up in our AC rooms and sing long tales of heroism of our leaders,raising your voice is equivalent to putting your nationalism at stake, questioning anything my friend, is beckoning the devil.

On an ending note : A beautiful poem by Faiz Ahmed Faiz ( and an equally amazing artwork by Mr.Shiraz Hussain )

Bol, ke lab azaad hai tere,
Bol, zabaan ab tak teri hai,
Tera sutwan jism hai tera –
Bol, ke jaan ab tak teri hai.

Dekh ke aahangar ki dukaan mein
Tund hai shu’le, surkh hai aahan,
Khulne-lage quflon ke dahane,
Phaila hare k zanjeer ka daaman.

Bol, ye thora waqt bahut hai,
Jism o zabaan ki maut se pahle;
Bol, ke sach zinda hai ab tak –
Bol, jo kuchh kahna hai kah-le!



“Bahot Masroof hain janaab,aajkal.. Kisi ke haath kahan ate hain?”

Masroof :مصروف : Being busy/engaged.

We live in an era where nobody has got time for anybody. You chalk out a schedule for your day to day activities because leading life without “a plan” is just not our thing,right? So , eventually we become our own slaves,happily giving up our desires,because we just don’t have time for such stuff. Or maybe because we have saved sometime in the future for that? Par kise hosh ki kal kya ho? Kya pata is duniya mei hum ho na ho? 

Whoever you meet is so busy in their lives that it is even difficult for them to answer your phone call because “masroofiyat hi itni hain ki phone ka kya,time ka hi pata nahin chalta. Kab nikal gaya“.

Or maybe it is our new self-invented Indian thing,just like “missed calls”,our contribution to the world. Act as if you don’t have any time in the world and the person in front of you will bow down , after all, we have loads of work to do. Why should we be the first ones to initiate?

So,next time if someone tries to play the busy card, reply with the given couplet (it might make their day 😉 ) :

Itne kahan masroof ho gaye tum,
jo dil dukhane bhi ab nahi aate.




After a long time , I finally picked up my copy of “City Of Djinns”by William Dalrymple .

Cursed myself for not having this gem in my bookshelf before. Well,procrastination indeed is a devil. So, while reading the book I came across the mention of Ahmed Ali’s “Twilight in Delhi”which is another masterpiece. It’s available in stores and if you’re an Urdu Connoisseur and have a strong desire to know about life in Delhi before partition and independence then this is the book for you.

I reminisced about the galis and koochas of The Walled City and within no time I ended up googling about the Havelis of Old Delhi. ( you can have a look at them here : ).

The Havelis and the fluent Urdu which were once the jaan of Delhi now merely form a part of its long lost “Riwaayat : روایت : tradition”

Our Riwaayat which we have allowed to be ransacked with time and now nothing but dilapidated structures remain. ( The owner of the famous Ghantewala Sweets in Chandni Chowk closed it down recently owing to “system failures”)  I wonder who is to be blamed? The ignorant owners who failed to preserve their viraasat or prefer to exchange it for a few shellings because they are in dire need of money only to end up buying a new bungalow in Lutyens Delhi or to lead a happy life with the “sahebs” who not a very long time ago ruled them. (Ah,talk of the slavery blood still running in us)

What should I feel more sorry for? The havelis which are now ruins or the replacement of chaste urdu by “Kaarkhani urdu”as Ahmed Ali likes to call it.

Melancholy for the Riwaayat which was been uprooted and dispersed.


Wondering what does this word mean ?

Aaghaaz is an urdu word pronounced as “Aa-gh-aa-z”,the gh is “غ (ghain)”in urdu which means “onset/ beginning” and since this is my first post of the new blog so I decided to call it that.

My desire for writing has made me start another blog,not very sure what I would be writing here ( here’s the link to the original one : which was created when I was 14).

Happy reading. 🙂