Meeraji (1912 -1949) is one of the most obscure Urdu poets. His work is unique as he incorporated symbolism and synasthea into Urdu poetry. His real name was Sanaullah Dar and he chose his pen name to be after his unrequited love, who was referred to as “Meera Ji”. He lived a Dionysian life engaging in excess which unfortunately caught upto him as he died at the age of 37.
Needless to say he’s one of my favorite poets of all time, and reading him is truly an experience. Here is some additional information about him.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meeraji
The Traveller Who Lost His Way
City by City the traveller lost his way home
What is yours? What is mine? What is for rent?
It is lost
What did he lose? Why did he lose it? Why are you asking
There was no reason, he’s just lost
There were strange days, strange nights and even stranger conversations
Even the child’s dream of love was forgotten
A shy light peeked from the darkness
A dimming shadow replaces a forgotten face
Walking in his lost memories and shards of glass puncturing his heart.
He also forgot to exchange his sorrow for joys.
One entrancing look, One moment of sublime conversation and our breaths are entangled like a thread.
A stare of pure light erased and that moment is lost forever.
Let’s not talk about this anymore, the mystic is a vagrant lover.
Let the waves crash into him and soon he will forget the ocean.
(c) A.R. Minhas 2020
