Omar Khayyám and his Rubaiyat

I started reading Omar Khayyam’s poetry when I wandered in an old book shop in Islamabad. Its cover was torn and the pages were brown with age. I randomly opened a page and this was there:

 

Ah love! Could Thou and I with fate conspire

To grip this sorry scheme of things entire,

Would we not shatter it to bits-and then

Re-mold it nearer to heart’s desire

Ah! Moon of my delight who know’st  no wane,

The moon if heav’n is rising once again:

How oft hereafter rising shall she look

Through this same garden after me-In vain!

And when thyself with shining foot shall pass

Among the guest star-scattered on the grass

Where I made one-Turn down an empty glass

I absolutely love how the words play with the emotions of a person while telling a story. I hope I can read more of this to help me understand the dimensions of poetry and Literature in that era.

Beyond Sanity Publishing

Happy Birthday Professor.

Life.

Soul sucking ghost.

Faceless monster.

Paradise for demons.

Are you alive?

I have so many questions to ask you. All the answers depend on your perspective of life as it is.

Cruel and Dead.

Funny.

How is life dead? Its dead!

Every second dies after you have lived it. You’re letting every second die. Every breath you take is a step away from life. You’re on a path that leads to two roads.

Eternity

Oblivion

It depends on your perspective now. What path are you walking towards? Or are you running? Running and skipping towards a better life. Gadgets, cars, watches, mansions. Drugs, smoke, pollution, corruption.

Peace or destruction?

Two boats love.

How loyal is your league? Will it keep you above the water or take you to the depts of the most beautiful journey of your life? Will it show you all that life has to offer or will you stay away from all the mountains because you are afraid of the heights.

Try?

Try to drown. Maybe you’ll love the sea.

Dive?

Maybe you’ll like falling from the mountains you are scared to climb.

Walk?

All the roads you think are not meant for you. What if there is a unclaimed castle at the end of the passage?

Good God. Who will live there?

What about the treasure in the dungeon? You’l never know. You’ll have to walk down the stone path yo discover it It won’t come to you. Gods have forsaken you my dear. This world is yours to have. There are endless windchimes dying to make themselves melt in your ears. There are so many perfumes spilling themselves so you can become an angel. So you can become pure. All elements of universe combined.

You.

Define yourself.

Breathe in the thunder. Make it rumble inside your heart. Make it aligned with the heartbeat. Make the electricity follow the pathways of veins and arteries. Let them draw themselves inside your body so it glows from within. So the power can fuel you. So you can climb that mountain. Dive in that bottomless ocean. Walk the path to eternity. To immortality.

Auroboros.

O baby you’re so alive.

Your breath makes the seconds live before they die. You’re the reason they live! Look what you are doing! You are turning seconds, minutes, days, weeks, months, years, decades immortal.

What you do is you touch each moment of them and you make them experience life before they embrace death.

“In the end, death comes for all of us.”

Alan Rickman passed away. He would be 70 today. Leaving us with a memory of ‘Always’ and a reality of ‘Death’. This is a tribute to one the greatest beings on Earth. A person who embraced each moment and not only made them live, but made us ‘live’ through them.

May you rest in peace Professor.

Irum Zahra