ghazal
Ranjit Saranwali
For the depth in the Shiars, he himself has become deep
The poet may have cried before the mention of tears
Look aside the blur in the nainas
For which the runaway may have stopped somewhere
There are so many places where black water flows
Maybe politics has washed its face
Those who carry more luggage than necessary in the journey
Before leaving, ask what they have carried
Every relationship in the world is happy
The man has broken the agreements
Contact: 98143-78105
* * *
heartache
Karamjit Kaur
Dear heart,
listen to my pain
Keep the shadows of hijras,
Russian Destiny
Dear heart,
listen to my pain
Dil Diya Mahrama Ve….
My companion for ages,
Remained in a dream.
This is the pain of souls.
My heart sank.
Don’t break the moon,
To the chain of love
Dear heart,
listen to my pain
Keep the shadows of hijras,
Russian Destiny
Dil Diya Mahrama Ve….
Don’t stop walking like this,
of velocity over distances.
came to life my
pain of darkness
My life went up,
Ishq to the cross.
Dear heart,
listen to my pain
Keep the shadows of hijras,
Russian Destiny
Dil Diya Mahrama Ve….
* * *
Admit it too
Hardeep Birdi
Consider the tears that have to be drunk as salty.
Even when a person is defeated by fate, admit it.
Don’t go with earning as much money as you want
Accept all those who go empty-handed.
If you work hard, you will get everything
Even if you have to do it, accept it.
Gentlemen who are created by nature
Consider the weather at your place.
Coming back from abroad and clinging to the chest
Consider the son as the mother’s son.
Leaders don’t have to do anything
Consider these steps only as lare.
By word of mouth, Ashak would break the stars
Consider which stars are going to break.
These robberies are bloodshed on the ground
Accept all the reasons of wealth and fame.
Everyone can get bread with just a little
After wealth and fame, do all things.
Contact: 90416-00900
* * *
ghazal
Prof. Paramjit Singh Neke Ghumman
Take away the sleep from the nainas, wake up all night
Ishq’s deal is very unique, hot sale.
Ishq’s status is very high, not tolerable and not to be feared
Man, for the sake of Manavan, let the moon float on raw materials.
Let the color of Ishq be jogged, let the tired ears be taught
Bandagi of Ishq, eat thigh meat from Mahinwal.
He who walks on the path of desire, should wear a birha jholi
Sometimes say this Bulla, sometimes this Sarmad, sometimes Farid.
Whoever feels love for the country, he should not want anything
Till Dilbar, Ishq’s TC, should be hanged.
It is desired that the temple-mosque should not be made of its bones
Let the light of one God be seen in all.
Contact: 97816-46008
* * *
man
Nirmal Singh Ratta
You have to make a real mistake
Maya Vala broke the chain
Keep the devil under control
Then you get knowledge from Guru somewhere
Put it in the furnace and melt the gold first
Then the goldsmith molds what he wants
Glory in gold comes only through hard work
Then you get knowledge from Guru somewhere
By bearing hardships with patience
By following the path told by the Guru
An ordinary man becomes a great man
Then you get knowledge from Guru somewhere
By abandoning false gossip and slander
Waking up from the sleep of hostility and opposition
A man has to be a man
Then you get knowledge from Guru somewhere
One dwells among all
He used to cry and laugh when he played
Understanding in all
Then you get knowledge from Guru somewhere
Trying again and again
Who should love true and who should love falsely?
Kurban ji has to be a sacrifice from the body and the mind
Then you get knowledge from Guru somewhere
He would meet the true Guru himself
Bhakti is done by putting it in a straight way
Gracious Lord who holds your hand
Then you get knowledge from Guru somewhere
Contact: 84270-07623
* * *
sharing
Gurjit Singh Tiwana
The gap between rich and poor, caste and caste should end.
If it was in the name of religion, let the attack stop.
Dense and cool shade to Bakhshi trees.
In which the daughters live, keep the wombs safe.
Caring for parents, elders,
Such disrespect, God bless the sons.
May unity grow among the people,
Parting again, to the places of my village.
Let this hatred be over.
‘Tiwane’ someone should turn the seasons of love.
Contact: 94632-89684
* * *
ghazal
Gurmeet Singh Sohi
Those who dare to cooperate
Their promises would not have been false promises
Who used to argue behind religions and castes
Those people are righteous not murderers
Who are called players of the game of politics
He would have spent many years in jail
Those who are hungry in the body
Some were killed by poverty, some by time
Who looked for bread on the streets to fill their stomachs
Tell me who would have supported those orphans
‘Sohi’ thinks less about the progress of the country
The robbers were not one, but many
Contact: 92179-81404
* * *
Washing machine
S. Proshotam
Stepping from the doli in the courtyard of the in-laws house,
Was blown away in the colorful valleys on the second day.
The week passed like moments in a blissful atmosphere.
Sanjoya, the scene in which he studied in the university.
Mehram’s cruelty in months after returning home,
Numbness in an extended happy life.
There was Odi Vali Dhun at night in the midst of drugs, gambling, friends.
Sandhu rangi and Sandli Deh in butter,
I had done the damage by explaining the understanding.
Educated mother and father, he belonged to the moneylender grandfather.
My parents, fighting for the beautiful sun,
Wealth was given on the demand of the house, daughter’s donation for comforts.
Joined before the door of the temple of justice for divorce.
When there was an uproar in the Mohatbar Sabha,
Saying the heirs of Vargail, was not to improve,
No other choice but to fight with a beautiful girl.
As the words echoed in my ears, shrugging off my back,
A mohatbar got up from there saying,
Here the boy and my daughter-in-law have done it,
Our family is also very happy with them.
With a whisper of his mind he asked:
The washing machine in the duct of the house,
She cleans dirty clothes with powder.
You go through the steps of washing the permanent stains.
Similarly considering simple families as washing machines,
To noble children in the matching folds of the birth chart,
For the sake of washing away the permanent stains of your perverted habits
Making other people’s lives like scrap machines
How long will mean-spirited people continue to fight in marriages?
Contact: 98152-71246
* * *
tree pain
Harpreet Patto
Let me sit and tell you the pain
I am sad,
Those who enjoyed my shade
Picked up the spinning saw today.
I do not know when the turn will come
Countless days pass,
As were the trees next to me
Will leave dense shadows.
Big roads with high bridges
how many trees
Increased population houses
We were cut off.
Those who seem to be standing
my partner,
We cut, planting schemes
What Rakhi used to do
The tree was very sad.
cry loudly
He did not see the place
Wherever you go
Say by giving clean air
save the environment
But do not know ‘patto’ human qualities
We lost our lives.
Contact: 94658-21417
* * *
foreign Punjab
Kuljinder Kaur Cong
The race to settle abroad
which is a boost to the heart,
Greed to earn money
Punjab has become a foreigner
Do not ask about agricultural implements.
All the lands are adorned with jewels,
Craving the glow in the shadows,
The decks that stood tall
Here were the owners of forts,
Stay there forever ranting,
Punjab’s villages were emptied of youth,
Till today no village has returned
* * *
Kautak
Gurjodh Kaur
Honored us beyond imagination,
Rum in the soul, he did the digging himself.
Our gaze beyond mercy is not
Our punishment is that he apologized himself!
He was walking empty, let him go limb by limb,
He performed the ceremony of filling the lap!
The letters that came out of the mouth became gold colored
Khel Kotak, Jodh of! He spoke!
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