This one is a simple light-hearted funny one by Ogden Nash.

The Pig

“The pig, if I am not mistaken,
Supplies us sausage, ham and bacon,
Let others say his heart is big–
I call it stupid of the pig. ”

This one is a much deeper one (about letting circumstances define you or you take charge to define circumstances) although worded in a very innocuous way by Roald Dahl

The Pig

“In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
He worked out sums inside his head,
There was no book he hadn’t read.
He knew what made an airplane fly,
He knew how engines worked and why.
He knew all this, but in the end
One question drove him round the bend:
He simply couldn’t puzzle out
What LIFE was really all about.
What was the reason for his birth?
Why was he placed upon this earth?
His giant brain went round and round.
Alas, no answer could be found.
Till suddenly one wondrous night.
All in a flash he saw the light.
He jumped up like a ballet dancer
And yelled, ‘By gum, I’ve got the answer! ‘
‘They want my bacon slice by slice
‘To sell at a tremendous price!
‘They want my tender juicy chops
‘To put in all the butcher’s shops!
‘They want my pork to make a roast
‘And that’s the part’ll cost the most!
‘They want my sausages in strings!
‘They even want my chitterlings!
‘The butcher’s shop! The carving knife!
‘That is the reason for my life! ‘
Such thoughts as these are not designed
To give a pig great peace of mind.
Next morning, in comes Farmer Bland,
A pail of pigswill in his hand,
And piggy with a mighty roar,
Bashes the farmer to the floor…
Now comes the rather grisly bit
So let’s not make too much of it,
Except that you must understand
That Piggy did eat Farmer Bland,
He ate him up from head to toe,
Chewing the pieces nice and slow.
It took an hour to reach the feet,
Because there was so much to eat,
And when he finished, Pig, of course,
Felt absolutely no remorse.
Slowly he scratched his brainy head
And with a little smile he said,
‘I had a fairly powerful hunch
‘That he might have me for his lunch.
‘And so, because I feared the worst,
‘I thought I’d better eat him first.’ “

Some incredible poetry…

“Jo puchha ke kis tarah hoti hai baarish / Jabeen se paseene ki boondein gira di,

Jo puchha ke kis tarah girti hai bijli / Nigahein milaaein – mila kar jhuka di

Jo puchha shab-o-roz milte hain kaise / To bhehre pe apne wo zulfein hata di

Jo puchha ke naghmon mein jaadu hai kaisa / To meethe takallum mein baatein suna di

Jo apni tamannon ka haal puchha / To jalti hui chand shamein bhujha di

Main kehta reh gaya khata-e-mohabbat ki achhi saaza di”

Need help from somebody who is more knowledgeable in Urdu than me but roughly I think it is…

When I asked her how does the rain fall / She let a few beads of sweat fall from her forehead

When I asked her how does the lightning strike / She looked at me, and then lowered her eyes

When I asked her how does the night and day come together / She slowly moved her hair away from her face

When I asked her about the magic in music / She whispered a sweet things in my ear

But when I asked her about my own wishes / She quickly snuffed out a few candles

And all I was left saying was, what a punishment this is, for the sin of loving!!

Couple of hours of tabla with Bengali songs. Now I have unwinded well. Better get to bed and sleep before I wind up again…

And these few precepts in thy memory
Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel,
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear ’t that th’ opposèd may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear but few thy voice.
Take each man’s censure but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy—rich, not gaudy,
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be,
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

Last night I was listening to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan very late. And then chanced upon these three kids from Patiala on Youtube with amazing talent. They are 11, 13 and 14 years old! And the 11 year old is the uncle of the other two brothers! They will be India’s own Nusrat very soon. You can search for “Patiala Boys” or “Ali Brothers” or even “rebirt Nusrat” (with the spelling mistake) on Youtube. Unbelievable talent and rendition.

Some ghazals are best appreciated in a much delayed flight at 31,000 feet after a couple of red wines…

“Aye husn-e-lala-fam zara
Aankh to mila, zara aankh to mila
Khali pade hai jaam zara 
Aankh to mila,
Saqi mujhe bhi chahiye ek jaam-e-arzoo
Kitne lagenge daam zara 
Aankh to mila”

Another relaxing Friday evening by myself – nothing to unwind like a couple of hours of Bengali songs and tabla. I still can’t get Lata’s “Prem ekbari esechhilo nirobey” out of my mind… G’night ya’ll…

This is a gem by Aaga Bismil. The Ghulam Ali version of the rendition is outstanding..

“mehfil mein baar baar kisi par nazar gayee /
humne bachayee laakh magar / phir udhar gayee //

unki nazar mein koi to jaadu jaroor hai / 
jis par padi / 
usi ke jigar tak utar gayee // “

That was one heck of a tough week. Very productive though. Appropriately followed by one heck of decompression. 3 hour session of Bengali music and tabla. Ended with the following unforgettable Nazrulgeeti. (see photo). Do you remember the first line?