Invest in yourself. Spend most of the time with yourself. Work on your mistakes , your steps , your vision , goals , thought frequency. Tune it accordingly and let the universe do its magic. In this journey you’ll walk through broken glass , fire and also the entire world will abandon you , if not you abandon them because the world hardly means anything to you. If the world meant so much , our earth would’ve been on its highest evolution phase by now. Its you who will always be with you. Its a journey of your inner self. Let the best love story ever be the one between your inner self and material self.

First attempt at Persian Calligraphy

IMG_20170923_062719This is a poem in Urdu language by Muztar Khairabadi ( 1865-1927) , the great grandfather of a famous Indian actor Farhan Akhtar. Some say that  few incerpts are borrowed from Bahadur-shah-Jafar’s poem , the last mughal emperor in India. The beauty and essence of such Urdu poetry is  that it still makes sense even today inspite of being written hundreds of years ago. 

Here’s my first attempt at Persian calligraphy that started off with an Urdu poem. The strokes are quite imperfect but I’m getting my hands on it. Learning a new language surely keeps the dopamine levels high.

Here’s the poem and the translation:

Naa kisi ki aankh ka noor hoon , na kisi ki dil ka qaraar hoon 

Jo kisi ke kaam na aa sakhe , main woh  musht-e-gubaar hoon 

Main nahin hoon nagma-e-jaan fazaan , mujhe koi sun ke karega kya

main bade dukh ki hoon sadaa , main bade dukh ki pukaar hoon

Mera rang roop bigad gaya , mere bakht mujhse bichhad gaya 

jo Chaman fizaan se ujad gaya , main usi ki fasl-e-bahaar hoon 

Pay-faatiha koi aayein kyun , koi chaar phool chadhayein kyun

koi shamaah la ke jalayein kyun ,ki main bekasi kaa mazhaar hoon

Naa main muztar unka habib hoon , naa main muztar unka raqeeb hoon

jo palat gaya woh naseeb hoon , jo ujad gaya gaya woh dayar hoon 


I’m not the light of anyone’s eyes

I’m not the solace for anyone’s heart

the one who isn’t worth any thing

I’m that one fistful of dust 


I’m not the tune of life 

Why would anyone want to hear me

I’m that sound of separation 

I’m the cry of distress


My color and appearance is damaged

My beloved has parted from me

The garden that got ruined in autumn ,

I’m the crop of its spring


Why should anyone come to sing a requim

Why should anyone come to offer flowers

Why should anyone come to light a candle 

I’m that tomb of destitution


I’m neither anyone’s friend

Nor am I anyone’s rival

the one that is ruined , I’m that fate

the one that is destroyed , I’m that land



But it ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done! Now if you know what you’re worth, then go out and get what you’re worth, but you gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain’t where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain’t you. You’re better than that!

–  From the movie Rocky Balboa ( 2006 )