When fame and fortune are achieved, and there is not much left to do,
that is when I search within for an answer or a cure.
Caught up in society's rules of what, how, and the who,
I orbit into obscurity, then free fall into an open sewer.
I am successful at most endeavours that I set my mind to—
whether it's racketball or the creative arts, I often take the lead.
So I sit and seethe then make believe I am a witches brew,
right before I prick my finger, and I let it bleed.
Excelling at almost everything can be a blessing and a cancerous curse,
as choosing one simple path can become quite complex.
So, instead, I obsess and move forward, in reverse;
I stray further from my purpose, and grow painfully perplexed.
Robbed of my own livelihood like a runaway, derailing train;
despite a dozen different modes of transportation, I still cannot be moved.
My success vanished as mysteriously as a Malaysian aeroplane;
Stubborn as a mule as I wreak havoc with my cloven hooves.
Urdu:
Hum pe yeh kisne hara rang daala,
dekhao mujhe apna dil saaf hai ke kaala.
Yeh gham ki goli hai kisne khilayee
hai kisne mujhe buri nazar lagayee.
Shayad hai maine kisi jinn ko sataya,
mot ko kisne pukara, ussey kisne bulaya?
Zindagi humari kaise itni kharaab hogayee,
bachpan ke khilono ki tara, khushiyan humaari kahan khogayee?
Kya kisi jadugarni ne humaari loee ki guriya banaali;
ya kisi ajnabi ko hai di humne gaali?
Zara sa jhoom loon ya apne aap ko dufnaloon?
Samundar mein doob jaon ya paani meh nahaaloon?
Tofa ho ya toofaan mujhe koi faraq nahin,
ab fiqar main apni doob ke main thakgaya hoon.
Woh masoom larka kahaan goom hogaya,
jiske aankhein mein kabhi nahin they yeh aansoo.
Punjabi:
Jiddaun dil vich dard hovey,
teri avaaz menu chen devey;
na haath jaane, na roo jaane
kidda rassi vangoo vataya gaya.
Jadoo da chola paakey,
menu hasna sekha;
meray zakhmaan de uthay
pyaar da maram la.
Mi vich nachda phirda si pehlon
hun chand de totey bhi chen na devan,
sooraj di garmi hun sukoon na devey,
dil vich apne pana menu dehday.
Menu ma di yaad sataandi aa,
kanna vich avaaz audhi aandi aa.
Audhi ankhan vich taarey chamakde si,
Audhe paaran vich phul mehekde si.
Urdu Translation:
Who gave me this envy, show me your heart, is it clean or black with dirt, who fed me this pill of sorrow, who gave me the evil eye
Maybe I annoyed some sleeping genie, who mentioned death, who even called him? How did my life get so messed up, like my childhood toys, where has my happiness also been lost?
Did an enchantress make a voodoo doll in my likeness, or did I offend some stranger? Should I spin (roll with it) or bury myself? Bathe myself in water or drown myself in the sea.
There is no difference between gifts or gales to me, I've tired of acknowledging/observing my worry/frustrations. Where has that innocent young boy gone, whose eyes never held these tears.
Punjabi:
When there's hurt in my heart, your voice brings me peace, neither my hands nor my soul know how my life got tangled like rope.
Teach me how to smile/laugh with your magic, heal my wounds with your love.
I once danced in the rain, now even pieces of the moon don't bring me peace, the sun's heat/rays don't bring me solace, so grant me sanctuary inside your heart.
My mother's memories haunt me, in my ears, I hear her voice; stars once glistened in her eyes, I found flowers at her feet.
