Jamia ka Tarana

Jamia ka Tarana

Mar 28, 2007

Past Tense....Jamia Midle school

The first time i went to middle school canteen when my hands hardly reaches to the marble counter top.
I have seen the man behind counter & recognised hims as Muzaffar Bhai, thin, wheatish complexion man.
Expert in making samosa, jalebi, balushahi, namak para & gulab jamun.

History repeats when i took my daughter with me.
The man behind the counter was the same, however the hands that again reached to the counter was changed & i felt my childhood in my daughter.
I shared the same with Muzaffar bhai, still thin, now dark complexion & spiders web on face.
He has treated my daughter with same love as he used to treat me or other students.
Life of middle school is incomplete without Muzaffar bhai.
Although my daughter refused to drink tea there, but i had it with the same affection as it was many years back.
You can find the taste at many places, but neither cups nor surroundings any where in the world.
Namak pare: you will never find the same taste of Muzaffar bhai.
Balu shahi: I tried at many places, but his taste was unique.
Jalebi: Other than evergreen sweet shop, there is no other comparison.
Samosa: I dont like the taste but people says it was good.
Muzaffar bhai didn't know but in school days we used to steal samosa's & biscuit from the counter.
It has all gone with the school hood, Myself & many acquaintance of mine attained respectable place in their respective lives, but i am sure, they also miss those days like i do.
I found the pic of muzaffar bhai & now posting here.

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Jamia ka tarana (english)

This is the land of my hopes
This is the land of my dreams
This is where men with zeal stayed
Men who answered the leaders' call
It is here that torn-off love
Found the cohesive chords
It is here that wayward passions
Formed into frenzied love
It is here that the wild tulip learnt
How to make the scar of heart aglow
This is the land of my hopes
This is the land of my dreams
This is the place of men of vision
And of those with a challenging thought
Every morning here is new
And every evening newer still
Different is this tavern
And different are its norms
Different are the dancing cups
And different is their dance
Here drinking begets thirst a new
And different is this tavern's call
This is the land of my hopes
This is the land of my dreams
Here, conscience is the beacon light
And conscience is the guide
Here is the Mecca of heart resides the guiding faith
Ceaseless movement is our faith
And blasphemy it is to stay still
Here, the destined goal is the march on and on
Here, the swimming urge seeks
Newer and newer storms
Restless wave itself is our resurrected shore

Translated by: Prof. M. Zakir