Category: novel in urdu

Gone Girl best ever 2022

Gone Girl best ever 2022 exemplar arota, or Gone Girl, is an American psychological thriller and crime drama film that was released in 2014. The adaptation of the eponymous novel by Gillian Flynn, who also wrote the screenplay, was directed by David Fincher.

Amy and Nick Dunne are an apparently happy and in love couple. However, on the date they would celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary, the wife mysteriously disappears. During the search, the husband is seen as a possible suspect.
Gone Girl on his wedding anniversary, Nick returns home to find everything torn apart, with no sign of his wife, Amy. He begins to suspect a kidnapping and calls the police, who proceed to investigate the case. Within hours, groups of volunteers are organized to look for her and the husband has to hold a press conference.

Gone Girl best ever 2022 The protagonist’s behavior, from the beginning, does not correspond to the expectations of those who observe him carefully. Thus, he gains the antipathy of newspapers, television commentators and the public that followed the case.
Accused of smiling too much and approaching the volunteers, Nick arouses suspicions that are confirmed a little later. When they meet in secret, we discover that the university professor had been in an extramarital relationship with a young student for over a year.

The distance between Nick and Amy becomes increasingly evident: he knows nothing about his wife’s tastes, occupations or company. Gone Girl therefore, he cannot answer the questions that the detective asks during the interrogation. To move forward with the investigation, they must follow the clues left by the missing woman. The “treasure hunt” was a birthday tradition: Amy left letters with rhymes and riddles for her husband to unravel, which guided him to his present. However, the joke lost its fun because Nick could no longer decipher the verses.

Putting the pieces together, the police find a diary where she narrated the conflicts of the relationship, confessing that she felt isolated and feared her violent husband. That’s when a neighbor appears, very close to the victim, who confirms the story.
A sick revenge plan to gone girl

Detectives return to the scene and find traces of blood that someone tried to clean up. Meanwhile, Nick unravels the final clue and goes, alone, to the shed that is at his sister’s house. The place, filled with luxury goods bought in his name, contains a letter that insinuates that his ultimate gift is being arrested.

It is at this moment that the plot surprises us for the first time: we hear Amy’s monologue, telling how she planned everything to incriminate her husband, while fleeing in a car. Suddenly, the roles are reversed and the protagonist goes from victim to villain of the story.

Gone Girl amy explains her version of events, convinced that she is taking the law into her own hands. After moving to Nick’s hometown, she felt increasingly estranged from him as she bankrolled their lives. When she discovered the betrayal, she started planting false evidence for revenge: she wrote a diary full of lies, befriended her neighbor, and even wiped her own blood off the floor. And if her behavior already seems dangerous there, Amy scares the viewer more and more.

Gone Girl haunted by the figure of “Incredible Amy”, the protagonist of the literary saga written by her parents who always surpassed her in everything, the woman placed all her hopes for the future in that novel. Perhaps because of this, rejection has awakened a pre-existing disorder (some interpretations suggest that she is a psychopath).

Gone Girl her monologue, she says that she pretended to be someone else, doing everything she could to please him. Even smiling, avoiding fights and pretending to share her tastes, Amy tried to control her husband: “I forged the man of my dreams”. He believes that Amy is hiding from her abusive husband and accepts to shelter her in an isolated house. When investigating the woman’s past, Nick realizes that there is a pattern: years before, after a breakup, she made a false complaint about an old partner and ruined his life.

Gone Girl Media manipulation and “happy ending”

To defend himself against a possible murder trial and even capital punishment, Nick travels to meet Tanner Bolt, a famous lawyer. The professional explains that the first step is to change the public perspective on him: if until then he was being hated, it was necessary to awaken the affection of the people who saw him.He then decides to do a big TV interview, for which he prepares and trains for days. In order to manipulate Amy, knowing that she would watch, he admits the betrayal, claims to be a bad husband and even makes a declaration of love.
In the following moments, Nick begins to be publicly adored. The wife, convinced that the words were true, decides to

Go to him and plot another bloodthirsty plan. After forging evidence, once again, the protagonist kills Desi and leaves with her car.

When she returns home, surrounded by reporters, Amy is covered in blood, hugs her husband and “faints” in his arms. Through a brutal and confusing speech, she tells the police that she was kidnapped by her ex-boyfriend and had to kill him to escape. In a short time, the two become celebrities: she becomes something of a heroine and Nick is seen as her faithful companion. With the investigation shelved, he remains on her side to avoid the attacks of those who would condemn him for abandoning a woman in that moment of supposed fragility. That’s when she reveals that she is pregnant with her child, through artificial insemination, and that they are going to form a family.

Gone Girl the final scenes, the husband holds his wife’s hand during a TV appearance and, in an atmosphere of happiness, says that the relationship is stronger than ever: they communicate, are sincere and partners.

Soon after, the couple announces the pregnancy, which causes an even greater commotion. In this way, we realize that Nick intends to keep his marriage and appearances, despite everything that has happened.
Inspired by a true story?
Although the plot of Gone Girl is a fictional story, the author of the novel told, in several interviews, that she was inspired by some real cases that gained media attention.

Gone Girl didn’t take long for fans and viewers to discover a similar narrative, a reference that was confirmed by Gillian Flynn. In 2002, the American Laci Peterson disappeared from her home, leaving a large life insurance whose husband was the only beneficiary.

Shortly thereafter, when his infidelity was discovered, Scott Peterson became the prime suspect in the case and was eventually convicted of his wife’s murder.

کتاب گھر

کتاب گھر مجھے یاد ہے کہ ہمارے پہلے سگریٹ ایک ساتھ روتھمینز، درمیانی ٹار، فلٹر کے ساتھ تھے، یقیناً۔ ہفتہ کی رات کے دس بجے تھے اور ہم ایک مقامی چرچ

یوتھ کلب ڈسکو میں شرکت کر رہے تھے۔ مجھے یاد ہے کہ وہ ہوا کا سانس لینے باہر گئی تھی۔

خدا، میں ہانپنے کے ساتھ کر سکتا ہوں، اس نے میری نظروں سے بچتے ہوئے کہا، جیسے ہم سٹیج پر ہوں اور میں سہارا ڈھونڈتے ہوئے اپنی لائنیں بھول گیا ہوں۔

میں نے اپنی جیکٹ کے اندر روتھ مین کے اپنے پیکٹ کے لیے گھوم لیا۔ میری عجیب سی بھڑکائی نے اس کی توجہ مبذول کرائی، اور جب میں نے سر اٹھایا تو وہ مسکرا دی۔ جب میں نے سگریٹ کی دوہری قطار کو ظاہر کرنے کے لیے ڈھکن پلٹایا تو وہ قریب ہوئی اور میری نظر پکڑی، چاندی کے کاغذ میں لپٹے تابوت کی کیلوں کی طرح قطار میں کھڑی تھی۔. kitab ghar

کیا آپ کو روشنی کی سہولت ہے؟ اس نے اپنی مدد کرتے ہوئے پوچھا۔

نہیں، میں نہیں کرتا، میں نے اپنے ہونٹوں کے درمیان سگریٹ دباتے ہوئے کہا، اور اپنی جیب کو اندر سے گھماتے ہوئے کہا کہ میرے پاس ایک آسان آگ لگانے والے کی کمی ہے۔

عام طور پر، اس نے آنکھیں گھما کر میری طرف جھکتے ہوئے کہا۔

جب اس نے اپنا پتلا ہاتھ میرے چہرے کی طرف بڑھایا تو میرا سارا جبڑا کھل گیا۔

کوئی بات نہیں، اس نے کہا، میں اصلاح کروں گا۔ اس کے بڑھے ہوئے انگوٹھے اور شہادت کی انگلی نے میرے خشک ہونٹوں سے سلگتا سگریٹ نکال لیا۔ یہ تدبیر نرم لیکن عین مطابق اور مشق تھی، جیسے وہ سوئے ہوئے بچے کے تکیے کے نیچے سے دودھ کا دانت نکال رہی ہو۔ اس کا مطالعہ کیا گیا اشارہ رسموں میں سے ایک تھا، توقعات، یقین اور اسرار سے بھرا ہوا تھا۔ وہ دونوں ایک رات کی ہلکی انگلیوں والی پری تھی جس کا ایک نازک لمس تھا، اور ایک مہربان روح جو چاندی کے چھ پیسے کے بدلے ایک بچے کی فینگ کا تبادلہ کرتی تھی۔ میرا سگریٹ، جو اب دوبارہ میرے ہونٹوں کے درمیان آرام کر رہا ہے، نے ایک غیرمعمولی خوبی اختیار کر لی، جسے اس کی نرم پیار سے برکت ملی۔ میں نے اسے اپنے پھیپھڑوں میں دھواں بھرتے دیکھا۔ دنیا گھومنا بند ہو گئی، اور مجھے چکر آنے لگے، اس کے سانس چھوڑنے کا انتظار کر رہے تھے۔

مجھے اس کی ضرورت تھی؛ اس نے سفید پلمے کو اپنے کندھے پر بہنے دیتے ہوئے کہا۔

میں ورجینیا ہوں، ویسے۔

میں نے اس کی مسکراہٹ واپس کر دی جب میرا چہرہ صاف ہو گیا، دھواں غلط طریقے سے نیچے چلا گیا تھا۔

سانس لینا نہ بھولیں، اس نے مسکراتے ہوئے کہا، ورنہ آپ کھانستے ہوئے مر جائیں گے۔

اس وقت، میں ہک گیا تھا.

کتاب گھر

میں نے ہزار بار سگریٹ نوشی ترک کر دی ہے۔ یہ آسان ہے. نہیں، واقعی، یہ ہے، میں وعدہ کرتا ہوں. یہ استقامت کا سوال ہے؛ مجھے کوئی اعتراض نہیں اور انہیں کوئی فرق نہیں پڑتا۔ وہ یہی کہتے ہیں، ہے نا؟ ماضی میں، میں نے دنوں کے لیے سگریٹ نوشی چھوڑ دی تھی، اور اکثر ایک ہفتے تک۔ جب ہم چھوٹے تھے تو رکنے کی کوئی وجہ نہیں تھی۔ اس کے علاوہ، برسوں کی لگن کے بعد، چھوڑنے کے بجائے جاری رکھنا آسان تھا۔

کتاب گھر

جب ورجینیا کا انتقال ہوا تو میں بے ہودہ تھا۔ جب میں اس کے پلنگ کے پاس تھا تو اس نے مجھ سے عہدہ چھوڑنے کا وعدہ کیا۔ میں ہسپتال میں اس سے ملنے گیا اور اس کے پاس ہر جگہ ٹیوبیں تھیں اور ایک آکسیجن ماسک تھا، جسے وہ وقتاً فوقتاً ہٹاتی رہتی تھی تاکہ جلدی پف ہو سکے۔ وہ مجھ پر تاکید کرے گی کہ اپنی وہیل چیئر کو باہر دھکیل کر تازہ ہوا کا سانس لیں۔ ایک بار جب ہم میٹرن کی چوکنا چکاچوند سے دور ہوتے تو وہ میری جیبوں سے رائفل چلاتی، چنگاری کرتی اور اچھی طرح سے گھرگھراہٹ اور کھانسی ہوتی۔ ورجینیا اپنی زندگی کے آخری چند گھنٹوں تک سگریٹ نوشی کرتی رہی۔ وہ ہمیشہ اس خوشی کے ساتھ وفادار تھی جس نے اسے مار ڈالا۔ ہماری شادی کے پچاس سال، سنہرے سال اور بہت سے، بہت سے خوشگوار لمحات اور کوئی پچھتاوا نہیں تھا۔

کتاب گھر

میں ورجینیا سے ملنے سے پہلے کبھی زیادہ سگریٹ نہیں پیتا تھا۔ ویسے بھی ہر روز نہیں۔ میرے تمام دوست تمباکو نوشی کرتے تھے، اور میں نے اسے بہت کم کامیابی کے ساتھ آزمایا تھا۔ انہوں نے مجھے بتایا کہ یہ وہی ہے جو بالغوں نے کیا اور مجھے مزید کوشش کرنی چاہیے۔ میں اس وقت تک ثابت قدم رہا جب تک میں نے یہ نہ سمجھا کہ مجھے اس کا پھانسی مل جائے گا۔

کتاب گھر

‘گیسپرز’، وہ انہیں پکارتی تھی۔ کیا میں ہانپ سکتا ہوں؟ وہ پوچھے گی، جب ہم ایک دوسرے کو جانتے تھے۔ اس نے بینسن اور ہیجز کو سگریٹ نوشی کی اور میں نے جلد ہی اپنی وفاداری تبدیل کر لی۔ یہ آسان تھا اگر ہم دونوں ایک ہی برانڈ کا تمباکو نوشی کریں۔

کتاب گھر

جس رات ہم ملے، میں نے ایک مقامی تمباکو نوشی کے پاس جا کر صحیح رقم کو سکوں میں پکڑا اور بیس کا پیکٹ مانگا۔ یہ میرا بیس کا پہلا پیکٹ تھا اور میں نے انہیں صرف اس لیے خریدا تھا کہ بڑا ہو گیا ہوں۔ میرے پاس لائٹر کے لیے بھی پیسے نہیں تھے۔ جب اس نے مجھ سے بات کی تو مجھے کسی سے ماچس مانگنی پڑی جس کو میں نے پکڑ رکھا تھا۔ ورجینیا نے شہر کے بارے میں میری نظر پکڑ لی تھی اور میں نے اسے سگریٹ نوشی کرتے دیکھا تھا۔ میں نے سوچا کہ اگر میں بھی سگریٹ پیتا ہوں تو میں اسے متاثر کر سکتا ہوں۔ اگر اس نے پہلے مجھے سگریٹ نوشی کرنے کی ترغیب دی تو یہ مناسب معلوم ہوا کہ وہ مجھے اپنے جانے کے بعد رکنے کو کہے۔

کتاب گھر

سگریٹ بانٹتے ہوئے ہم نے مل کر اپنے تمام مسائل حل کر لیے۔ ہمارے راستے میں جو بھی آیا، ہم اس کا آخری دم تک مقابلہ کریں گے۔ ہم ایک جوڑے کے طور پر ناقابل تسخیر تھے اور لازم و ملزوم بھی۔ آسمان میں بنایا گیا میچ۔ ورجینیا اور میں نے زندگی کی پریشانیوں کے ذریعے اپنے راستے پر ہنسے۔ ہم نے کبھی بحث نہیں کی جب تک کہ ہم نے ایک ہی وقت میں سگریٹ نوشی ترک کرنے کی کوشش نہ کی۔ مجھے صحت کا خوف تھا، اور اس نے اسے پیک کرنے کا مشورہ دیا۔ ٹھنڈا ترکی ایک ساتھ جانا خوفناک ہے، اور ہم نے اپنے تعلقات کو تقریباً طلاق میں ختم کر دیا۔ ایک ہفتے کے بعد، مجھے کافی مہلت ملی اور میں نے دوبارہ سگریٹ نوشی شروع کر دی۔ میں جلد ہی ٹاپ فارم پر تھا اور دوبارہ فٹ محسوس ہوا۔ سانس لینے سے میری صحت بحال ہو گئی، اور ہم جلد ہی اپنے پرانے طریقوں پر واپس آ گئے۔

کتاب گھر

لیکن اخراجات کا کیا ہوگا، میں نے آپ کو کہتے سنا ہے؟ یہ مضحکہ خیز ہے کہ جب آپ تمباکو نوشی کرتے ہیں تو آپ ہمیشہ سگریٹ کے لیے پیسے کیسے تلاش کر سکتے ہیں۔ اس سے کوئی فرق نہیں پڑتا ہے کہ چیزیں کتنی سخت ہیں، آپ دوسرا پیک خرید سکتے ہیں۔ میرا چچا جم نو میں ایک بڑا سگریٹ نوشی تھا۔

ستر کی دہائی وہ روزانہ تیس سے چالیس سگریٹ پیتا تھا۔ یہ وہ دور تھا جب تمباکو نوشی کی حوصلہ افزائی کی جاتی تھی اور تمباکو کمپنیوں نے بہت سی مراعات پیش کی تھیں۔ انہوں نے ہر پیکٹ کے ساتھ ٹوکن دیئے۔ خیال یہ تھا کہ انہیں اکٹھا کیا جائے اور بدلے میں تحائف کا انتخاب کیا جائے۔ انکل جم نے نئی کار کا دعویٰ کرنے کی امید میں مختلف فرقوں کے سات ہزار سگریٹ کے ٹوکن اکٹھے کئے۔ اس نے ان کو گن کر ایک درجن خانوں میں اکٹھا کیا اور روانہ کر دیا۔ یہ مضحکہ خیز ہے، لیکن اس نے سگریٹ کمپنی سے کچھ نہیں سنا۔ جب اس نے انہیں بلایا تو انہوں نے کہا کہ پوسٹ میں ٹوکن گم ہو گئے ہوں گے۔ انکل جم کو یقین نہیں آیا۔ میری خالہ کے مطابق، اس نے ان کی بڑی تصویر والی کھڑکی سے ٹیلی فون پھینکا۔ تاہم، اس نقصان نے انکل جم کو روکا نہیں، اور وہ تمباکو کے متبادل برانڈ کا تمباکو نوشی کرتے رہے۔

میں نے اپنے خاندان کو اس مسئلے پر گفتگو کرتے ہوئے سنا، اور انہوں نے اس کے اخراجات کے بارے میں ناگزیر سوال پوچھا۔ انکل جم پیسے کا کیا کریں گے اگر ان کے پاس یہ سب کچھ دوبارہ ہو جائے؟ انکل جم نے کندھے اچکا کر کہا، اگر اس کے پاس سگریٹ پر خرچ ہونے والے سارے پیسے ہوتے تو وہ سگریٹ پر خرچ کر دیتے۔

ایک نوجوان کے طور پر میرے لیے اس کا کوئی مطلب نہیں تھا اور فضلے نے مجھے خوفزدہ کر دیا۔ اب، مجھے اتنا یقین نہیں ہے۔ اس نے سگریٹ کا لطف اٹھایا اور میں اسے ایک نقطہ تک سمجھ سکتا ہوں۔ وہ سگریٹ سے نہیں مرتا تھا اور اس کی زندگی خوشگوار تھی۔ سماجی شارٹ ہینڈ کے طور پر، یہ دوست بنانے کے لیے بہت اچھا ہے۔ کیا میں ایک سگی چٹکی لگا سکتا ہوں؟ کیا آپ میرا ایک پسند کریں گے؟ کیا آپ کے پاس روشنی ہے؟ لامحالہ، ایسے سوالات کام پر یا پارٹی میں طویل گفتگو کا باعث بنتے ہیں۔ میں نے اس طرح بہت سے دوست اور جاننے والے بنائے ہیں۔

کتاب گھر

جب ورجینیا بیمار ہوئی اور اسے ہسپتال میں آرام کرنا پڑا تو میں نے اپنے آپ کو ہفتے میں چودہ سگریٹ پینے کا راشن دیا۔ ہر دن دو؛ ایک صبح اور دوسرا شام کو۔ کچھ دنوں میں میں ساڑھے دس بجے پہنچوں گا، اور میں خود کو دوسرا سگریٹ پینے کی اجازت دوں گا۔ پھر، دوپہر کے کھانے کے وقت، میں تیسرا نہ رکھنے کے لیے جدوجہد کروں گا۔ زیادہ تر دنوں میں دوپہر کے وسط تک دس سگریٹ ختم کر لیتا اور دکھاوا کرتا کہ میں نے اچھا کیا ہے۔ سب کے بعد، میں آسانی سے بیس کا پیکٹ پی سکتا تھا۔ شام کو، میں اگلے دن کے لیے مزید چیزیں خریدوں گا اور رات کے آخر تک انہیں سگریٹ پیوں گا۔

کتاب گھر

ہسپتال میں اپنے آخری دورے کے دوران، ورجینیا نے سرگوشی میں مجھ سے پوچھا کہ کیا میرے پاس روشنی ہے؟

مجھے افسوس ہے، پیار، میں نے ہونٹ کاٹتے ہوئے کہا جب میری آنکھیں نمکین آنسوؤں سے جل رہی تھیں۔

میرے پاس روشنی نہیں ہے؛ میں نے کہا. کیا آپ نہیں جانتے کہ میں نے ہار مان لی ہے؟

عام طور پر، اس نے کہا، اس کی آواز آکسیجن ماسک کے پیچھے چھلک رہی تھی۔ مجھے اصلاح کرنا پڑے گی۔

کتاب گھر

تقریباً ایک سال گزر چکا ہے جب اس نے مجھ سے آخری سانس لینے کا وعدہ کیا تھا۔

میں نے گیارہ مہینے، تین ہفتے اور ساڑھے چار دن اپنا وعدہ نبھایا۔

صرف ایک ساتھ ہماری زندگی کے بارے میں سوچ کر مجھے اس کی بہت یاد آتی ہے۔

کسی کی زندگی میں دو سب سے قیمتی چیزوں کو چھوڑنا مشکل ہے۔

ان دونوں کو ایک ہی وقت میں کھونا دل کو توڑ دینے والا ہے۔

ورجینیا اور سگریٹ ایک ساتھ چلتے ہیں۔

کتاب گھر کا رومانوی اور اداس ناول

کتاب گھر کا رومانوی اور اداس ناول کنستر ہمیشہ موجود رہتا تھا، اس کے ڈفل بیگ کے نیچے گھومتا رہتا تھا۔ جب بھی وہ پیک کرتا، اس کی انگلیاں ہموار، سرمئی چوٹی پر چر جاتی، لیکن وہکتاب گھر کا رومانوی اور اداس ناول اسے کبھی نہیں نکالتا، کبھی براہ راست اس کی طرف نہیں دیکھتا۔ کبھی کبھار جب وہ پیک کھولتا تو ڈبی گندی جراب میں پھنس جاتی یا جیب کے اندر پھنس جاتی اور جب وہ اسے مشین میں ڈالنے جاتا تو وہ مٹھی بھر لانڈری کے ساتھ آتا۔ جب بھی ایسا ہوتا، جیک احتیاط سے سیاہ سلنڈر کو بازیافت کرتا اور اسے واپس اپنے بیگ کے نیچے کونے میں لے جاتا۔

یہ وہ جگہ ہے جہاں اس کا تعلق تھا۔ یہ وہیں ٹھہرا ہے۔ سال کے لئے.

اتنا عرصہ گزر چکا تھا، اسے یاد نہیں تھا کہ فلم میں کیا ہے، سیلولائیڈ کی چھوٹی سی پٹی پر کون سی تصویریں جمی ہوئی ہیں۔

جب میگی مر گیا، جیک کھو گیا. اس نے اپنی نوکری چھوڑ دی، اپنا اپارٹمنٹ چھوڑ دیا، کچھ چیزیں اپنے ڈفل بیگ میں ڈالیں، اور شہر چھوڑ دیا۔ اس نے اپنے بال لمبے اور داڑھی کو سفید ہونے دیتے ہوئے خود کو چھوڑ دیا۔

اس نے اپنے پیارے ’69 چارجر کے پہیے کے پیچھے بے مقصد شاہراہوں کو چلایا۔ میگی کو وہ کار زیادہ تر چیزوں سے زیادہ پسند تھی اور اس کے جانے کے بعد، اس کے دائیں طرف دیکھنا اور اس کی سیٹ کو خالی دیکھنا ہر بار جب بھی اس کی طرف دیکھا تو خنجر کی طرح تھا۔ دوپہر کے آخر میں، وہ اسے وہاں تصور کر سکتا تھا۔ کھڑکی سے باہر لٹکا ہوا چھوٹا ہاتھ، انگلیاں ہوا پر سرفنگ کر رہی ہیں۔ وہ اس کے جلتے بالوں میں غروب آفتاب کی سنہری روشنی دیکھ سکتا تھا، جو اس کے پیلا، خوبصورت چہرے کو فرشتہ کی طرح روشن کر رہا تھا۔ اگر وہ اسے بری طرح سے چاہتا تھا، تو جیک سیٹوں کے پار پہنچ کر اس کا ہاتھ پکڑ سکتا تھا، اپنی انگلیاں اس کے ارد گرد بند کر سکتا تھا، اسے اپنے قریب محسوس کر سکتا تھا۔

لیکن جب حقیقت واپس آئی تو اس نے سخت مارا۔

اس کے آنسو کبھی رکنے والے نہیں تھے، ونڈشیلڈ پر بارش کی طرح زور سے گر رہے تھے۔ اس کے ہاتھ کا پچھلا حصہ نمکین درد کے قطروں کو دور کرنے کے لیے وائپرز کی طرح موثر نہیں تھا، لیکن اس کے پاس بس اتنا تھا۔ جب یہ خراب تھا، اس نے اپنی طرف کھینچ لیا، احتیاطی لائٹس سڑک کے کنارے ٹمٹماتی رہیں جب تک کہ بدترین ختم نہ ہو جائے۔

پرانے زمانے کی مین اسٹریٹ کے احساس سے لطف اندوز ہوتے ہوئے، جیک چھوٹے شہروں میں پھنس گیا۔ اسے ایک دوسرے کے قریب بنے ہوئے مکانات، ان کے ڈھکے ہوئے برآمدے پڑوسیوں اور اجنبیوں کو یکساں بیٹھنے اور بات کرنے کی دعوت دیتے ہوئے دیکھنا پسند تھا۔ اسے بوڑھی ماں اور پاپ اسٹورز بہت پسند تھے، ان کی کھڑکیاں دلکش موسمی ڈسپلے سے بھری ہوئی تھیں۔ اس نے ان کھڑکیوں کے ذریعے وقت بتایا، چمکدار کاغذ کے شیمروکس یا چھوٹے امریکی جھنڈوں سے مہینوں کی گنتی کی۔

زیادہ تر وہ تیرتا تھا۔ سڑک کے آخری سرے پر کوئی منزل اس کی منتظر نہیں تھی۔ وہ کار میں سو گیا، اپنی لمبی ٹانگیں پچھلی سیٹ پر پھیلائے اور اس کی پرانی سرمئی ہوڈی کو تکیے کے طور پر استعمال کیا۔ اس کی بو بہت پہلے ختم ہو چکی تھی، لیکن اگر اس نے کافی کوشش کی تو جیک کو ناریل کا وہ ہلکا سا اشارہ یاد آ سکتا تھا جو ہمیشہ اس کی جلد سے پھوٹتا دکھائی دیتا تھا۔ وہ اسے یہ کہتے ہوئے چھیڑنا پسند کرتی تھی کہ فلوریڈا سے ہونے کا مطلب یہ ہے کہ اس کے بارے میں ہر چیز اشنکٹبندیی تھی، یہاں تک کہ اس کی خوشبو بھی۔ اسے اس بات کی پرواہ نہیں تھی کہ اسے اس کی خوشبو کیوں آرہی ہے، کون سے شیمپو یا لوشن کے امتزاج نے اسے اتنا لذیذ بنا دیا ہے، وہ صرف اتنا جانتا تھا کہ وہ ہے۔

میگی اس کی زندگی کی روشنی تھی اور اب وہ اس کے بغیر سائے میں گھوم رہی تھی۔

رات کے وقت، چھت کے اوپر سے گزرتی ہوئی ہیڈلائٹس کے ساتھ، جیک اس کا ایک خواب دیکھے گا۔ اب یہ معمول تھا۔ اس نے اس کے بالوں سے شروع کیا، اس بھڑکتی ہوئی سرخ گندگی جو اس کی انگلیوں کے درمیان الجھ جاتی تھی، اس وقت بھی جب اس نے اپنے لمس سے ہموار ہونے کی کوشش کی تھی۔ اس کی آنکھیں آگے آئیں، پیلی پلکوں کے نیچے دھندلا ڈینم نیلا جو سورج کی روشنی میں تقریباً سنہرے بالوں والی تھیں۔ وہ اس کے پسندیدہ تھے۔ واضح اور سچا اور محبت کے سوا کچھ نہیں بھرا جب وہ اس کے چہرے پر لیٹ گئے۔

وہ اسی طرح سو جاتا، اس کی خصوصیات کا تصور کرتا، اسے اپنے ذہن میں دوبارہ بناتا۔ کچھ راتوں میں وہ اس کے خوابوں میں جھانکتی تھی اور وہ فنتاسی سے پیار کرتے ہوئے اپنے آپ کو گھیر لیتا تھا۔ دوسری بار اس کی آنکھوں کے پیچھے کچھ نہیں تھا، کوئی تسلی بخش مسکراہٹ، کوئی گرم ہنسی، اس کے نازک ہاتھ سے کوئی لمس نہیں تھا۔

وہ راتیں سرد تھیں اور نیند اس کی گرفت سے دور تھی۔ سب سے بری بات یہ تھی کہ وہ راتیں زیادہ کثرت سے آ رہی تھیں۔ اس کے لیے اس کی روح کو پکارنا، اس کے گال کے گھماؤ، اس کی ناک کی چوٹی کو یاد رکھنا مشکل لگ رہا تھا۔

میگی مٹ رہی تھی۔

جب اسے ایسا محسوس ہوا یا جب اس کا بٹوہ خالی تھا اور گیس کی ٹینک کم تھی تو اس نے عجیب و غریب کام کیا۔ وہ مضبوط اور لمبا تھا، اور تعمیراتی کام اس کے لیے آسان تھا، حالانکہ اس میں کوئی جذبہ نہیں تھا۔ دھوپ میں باہر نکلنے میں صرف ایک یا دو دن تھے، اپنے بڑے بازوؤں کو ٹین کرنے اور گاڑی کو بیک اپ بھرنے میں۔ چند مالکان نے اسے رہنے کے لیے کہا، لیکن اس نے کبھی قبول نہیں کیا۔ سفر کے لیے سڑکیں باقی تھیں، ستارے ابھی سوئے ہوئے تھے۔ اس نے راستے میں چند دوست بنائے، لیکن کوئی بھی کبھی نہیں چپکا۔ یہ ویسے بھی کوشش کے قابل نہیں تھا. وہ جانتا تھا کہ وہ اس کے بغیر کسی چیز کے لیے اچھا نہیں تھا، کیا کوئی ایسا نہیں تھا جو کوئی جاننا چاہے گا۔ وہ اب بس ایک مسافر تھا، اس جیسا بھوت۔

صحرا خشک تھا اور اس کے سینے اور پیشانی پر پسینہ بہہ رہا تھا۔ اس نے قطروں کو مارا لیکن وہ اسے کسی برے خواب کی طرح چھیڑتے ہوئے فوراً واپس آگئے۔ فاصلے پر سورج کی روشنی کے ساتھ، اس نے آگے کی سڑک پر نگاہ ڈالی اور فرش سے اٹھنے والی بھاپ کو دیکھ کر حیران ہوا۔ گرمی کی لکیریں اس کی آنکھوں کے سامنے رقص کرتی تھیں۔

Maulana Abul Kalam Azad novel

Maulana Abul Kalam Azad gives standard and credibility to Urdu journalism by Razdan Shahid, Maulana Abul Kalam Azad was a genius and promising person. His religious, scholarly, literary, political, national and national services are very diverse and varied. Among the extraordinary mental and intellectual abilities that imprinted his deepest impressions on the hearts and minds of the people and influenced the whole era and environment, was a very prominent feature of his journalism which was his favorite for a long time. Hobby remained. Journalism was the beginning of his scholarly and literary life. Journalism was the means of fulfilling his mission for him. Journalism was given great dignity, honor and dignity by Maulana. Maulana Azad did not have a teacher in journalism. He was his own teacher. Did not receive training from At that time it had no arrangement and no operation. Maulana’s own God-given ability and extraordinary intelligence was his teacher and guide. The newspaper or magazine which he touched was given four moons. The master of editing Maulana devised for himself. And there were Turkish Arabic newspapers and magazines which came to Maulana. It is also worth mentioning that Maulana was aware of the techniques of journalism and its modern principles and codes and he did his best to modernize his journalism. Emphasis on newspaper get-up, printing and decoration, arranging typing, despite the lack of resources and resources to get your newspaper out of the country’s other language newspapers better and better, taking great care in news and articles and in printing. They cared about beauty. He considered journalism to be a powerful tool to breathe life into the country and the nation and to create a revolution.


Maulana’s journalistic career began at the age of about ten or eleven years. Old age At the age of eleven, poetry has been written by others, but this is probably the first and last example of regular editorial at this age. If left unchecked, this magazine will be published on January 2. Al-Misbah did not run for more than three or four months, but the pen continued to run. One article on the newspaper and its benefits and the other on Halat Khaqani Sherwani are relics of the same period. In May, he wrote an article about the power of the press, “Makhzan” for Lahore. It was a prominent literary magazine whose editor was Abdul Qadir Azad. There could be no greater distinction than for a person to edit his own pamphlet. During this period, the monthly poetry magazine of Munshi Nawbat Rai Nazar, Khadang Nazar, was added to the prose section in Lucknow and its editing was entrusted to Azad. In which Maulana’s articles continued to be published with all its splendor, every aspect of literature was tested. An important event of this year is the publication of “Ilan-ul-Haq”. This is Maulana’s first miscellaneous work according to research so far. For a few days, Maulana Abul Kalam Azad novel was also involved in the editing of “Adro Diggit” of “Shah Jahanpur”, but this is a ground and marginal event. Al-Misbah and Ahsan-ul-Akhbar are the only two newspapers that have a basic status. Couldn’t get out regularly due to difficulties and some independent illness. A total of twelve issues were published, including eight several-week joint issues. They set the following objectives for their magazine.

(1) Social reform of Muslims.

(2) Promoting Urdu especially in Bengal.

(3) Training of literary tastes in intellectuals.

(4) Criticism of literary works.

“Lisan al-Siddiq” shows. This pamphlet became very popular. Well-known magazines of the country like “Vakil” published very good comments in Amritsar. But he stayed until the end. He wanted to make his magazine a high level literary journal. Azad had realized the importance of Urdu in his youth and he had made his magazine as the spokesperson of Anjuman-e-Tarqi Urdu. It is important to make the mother tongue the medium of instruction. He went on to say that the mother tongue was the most suitable and appropriate medium of instruction. According to him, education is the key to social reform. Muslim intellectuals recognized Azad as the editor of “Lisan-e-Siddiq”. Was being taken hand in hand thanks to the beauty of and its sun dhajj.

Azad’s connection with Shibli Nomani proved to be a turning point in their mental evolution. Azad remained associated with “Al-Nadwa” from October 1 to March 3. This further increased his popularity among Muslim scholars and teachers. Of particular note are “Muslim Treasures”, “Justice in Islamic Countries” and “Women’s Rights”. He worked with great vision and skill At the request of Sheikh Ghulam Muhammad, the owner of the famous two-day newspaper “Vakil” of Amritsar, Azad took over its editorship from April to November. But due to his brother’s illness he had to return to Calcutta. The second period of his tenure as a lawyer was from August or September 2 to August 3. He made the newspaper three days long and its publication doubled. The newspaper exposed him to the realities of Indian politics and gave him experience on national issues. But when there were differences with the owner of the newspaper, he had to separate from it.

Returning to Calcutta after the first round of editing by Vakil, he republished the weekly in January, at the insistence of Muhammad Yusuf, the owner of Darul Sultanat. But he lived only a few days.


After parting ways with the “lawyer”, Azad was exploring the possibility of issuing his own pamphlet. Azad’s personality is imprinted on Al-Hilal. He made it clear on the pages of Al-Hilal that he had no commercial or personal interest in running this weekly. Al-Hilal was the first weekly picture magazine in Urdu, printed in a type imported from Turkey. He tried his best to make the pamphlet stand out and have a high standard. “Al-Hilal” changed the world of Urdu journalism. “Al-Hilal” was not just a newspaper but a movement. And created religious awareness. Oh, I wish I could get the Hour of Resurrection, which I would take with me to the high peaks of the mountains.

The same sound of thunder awakens the disgraceful dream of humiliation and disgrace

And shout and shout to get up, because now you think a lot and wake up

Because your God wants to honor you with life instead of death, rise instead of fall and honor instead of humiliation. 

Through the pages of “Al-Hilal” he tried to divert Muslims from the path of loyalty to the British government. A large part of this weekly was dedicated to the Muslims of the Middle East and developing countries. Was gone Through Al-Hilal, his message to the Muslims was to unite against the foreign rulers. Azad was forced to close Al-Hilal under the Press Act, the last issue of which was on December 6.

But Maulana Azad was not one of the losers. This made their intentions even stronger. Therefore, they republished it on 2nd November, under the name of “Al-Balagh”, which was the second image of “Al-Hilal”. However, on March 1, it was closed due to the reprimand of the government. On March 2, Maulana was ordered to leave Bengal. All the provinces except Bihar had banned him from entering the area. So Maulana left for Ranchi and was detained a few months later. Were released. And these were the very last days of the year. Within two years of his release, he accepted the membership of the Congress and also issued the weekly “Message“.


Maulana had issued a pamphlet called ‘Peegham’ from Calcutta on September 2, the compilation of which was entrusted to Maulana Abdul Razzaq Malihabadi. In it, Maulana has published warlike writings, but due to other national and political responsibilities, he could not pay due attention to it. Independent and compliant Maulana Malihabadi went to jail on February 8 after the court verdict, and the ‘message’ was closed. Its last issue was published on December 4. He published the 15-day “Al-Jamia” in Arabic, the first issue of which was published on April 1. The magazine closed in March. This was the first Arabic magazine to be published in India. Its main purpose was to acquaint the Arab world with the political activities of India. Its main theme was the same as the message.

Then, almost twelve years later, the second period of “Al-Hilal” began and the first issue of this period was published on “June”. Etc. Maulana Abdul Razzaq Malihabadi was responsible for the publication of the pen and etc., but this time too the issue was published and closed on December 5.

It is unfortunate that Maulana Azad’s influence on Urdu journalism was limited. No one else was able to follow the path he had enlightened because the reason for his perfection was to reach his mental level and to adopt his unique style. Maulana Azad stands alone with his majesty and glory in the field of Urdu language.

Latest novel Museum of Wonder

Latest novel Museum of Wonder ajooba took two steps back, raised his head and proudly saw a large board on the forehead of his magnificent mansion. Glancing at his eyes, he thought, “Now, if those things are found quickly, his museum will be complete.” And its museum will be the highest, the strangest, truly the strangest museum in the world. To achieve this, he first advertised on TV, in newspapers, magazines, radio, the Internet, everywhere, but to no avail. He contacted all the advertising agencies in the world, but to no avail. It did not happen. Then he sent many of his agents to different countries of the world. These agents hired thousands of employees to find this thing, but it was a failure. He had spent his vast wealth in search of this strange thing. Not only this, with the help of his hard work he has been able to make the most of his time. There was also a modest bank balance. When Ajooba sought help from the government of his country to find this thing, like the people, the ruler of the time laughed too. His madness was saying . ‘That thing will be found, it will be found, it will be found for sure. He will buy this thing. Just like he buys old goods, newspaper waste, and broken, broken iron, plastic goods in the streets. That thing will be found somewhere, sometimes it will be found. Also read Latest novel

Ajooba belonged to a landed family. His father was the only child of his grandfather and he was the only son of his father. He had immense family wealth. But from an early age he was fascinated with collecting rare and old things, such as thousands of years old coins, old human bones, pottery, antique tools, antique women’s jewelry, clothes, old books, postage stamps. He had spent his fortune acquiring items such as tickets, veterans’ uniforms and statues, and turned much of his backyard into a museum.

Disappointed by his madness, his wife moved to Mecca with her two sons and took up a job raising children. His real name was forgotten, everyone started calling him weird.

He had been wandering for years in search of the last thing he thought was necessary for his museum. In twenty years he has traveled to many cities. Going to every street in every city he wanted to buy this thing but

He hadn’t been to his home for years, he didn’t even know what his museum was up to these days, he had left the museum in the hands of a few employees while walking. His hair had turned white. Yes, the vision was getting weak. But his obsession was not letting him get tired. Strengthened him and he would forget all the frustrations, fatigue and confusion and stand up with new courage, new determination   The search would continue.

If he shouted for this thing in the streets, all the people present there would be amazed, and wondering what is this thing, what is this call? They would ask each other   “What is this thing, brother?” ? ‘

Some elders who had ever heard the name of this thing used to laugh and say “Now where will you find this thing, this person has gone mad.”

Today again he was walking in the streets of a new city. A ray of hope was shining in his eyes. The city seemed old-fashioned and traditional. It seemed that the city was not as old as it used to be. Here too people were looking at him with strange eyes He shouted and entered an old looking neighborhood. He was returning after making a noise in a narrow alley when   a dilapidated door slammed open   he looked back. The door was closed from place to place. There was mud and dirt nearby. A girl’s voice was heard from outside the door.

He quickly reached near the door. Ajooba’s heart was beating fast   his heart was saying, today your wish will surely be fulfilled.


“Yes, I’m talking to you. Do you really want to buy these things? They have no value, no identity.” The girl was in a state of conflict.

“Gee, I will definitely buy it. I will pay whatever you ask.” The head was covered, would he have these things?

“These things are lying in my grandfather’s old box .” I’ll bring it. “She turned quickly, stumbled upon a brick, and staggered inside.

When she returned, she had a small old wooden box in her hand. She placed the box down next to the marvel. Neighbors peeked through the doors and windows.

The girl opened the box   then she suddenly closed it. And as if in a full voice.

“Brother, tell me first, what will you do to them?”

Ajoob realized that the girl was very worried about these things. He was afraid that he would refuse to give. Ajube told the whole story and said.

“Don’t worry my daughter   all these things will become the glory of my museum with great care and protection.”

On hearing this, she began to weep uncontrollably. She used to cry and say   The ones you valued more than your wealth, fame, health and life and protected them all your life, you would never sell them   but grandpa   ” She put it on her face and started crying. Ajooba was anxious to console the girl or take possession of everything as soon as possible.

Little did he realize, however, that a few minutes earlier his ailing grandfather had staggered and shouted at the door, and now leaning against the wall, trying to control his uncontrollable, trembling heart. Were Suddenly the girl’s eyes fell on Grandpa   she got up in a daze and moved forward to handle Grandpa   but Grandpa fell so late. One of his legs was in the groove and one hand was resting on the ground. Grandpa was hiccupping very fast. ۔ Ajuba and the neighbors were spectators. After wandering around the city for almost twenty years, when Ajuba reached his museum with his most important thing

He saw eight or ten bulldozers tearing down his house, the last walls were being torn down. had been.

The people of Ajuba’s neighborhood could no longer recognize him. He had changed so much in those twenty years that it was difficult to recognize him. He was not only old, he was also in a bad condition   People were ignoring him as a beggar.

Neighbors told him that his wife and son had returned home. He had not received any good news for so many years, so he was considered departed from the world. Not interested, so they decided to build a five star hotel instead of a museum.

Hearing this, amazement’s dim eyes became dark. He sat down on the ground. His head began to spin rapidly. Suddenly there was a slight pain in his heart, and then there was a sharp pain. You want to stop the pain of endurance with the things in the bag   but where was the living heart going to get rid of these lifeless things. Died

Municipal officials found Ajuba’s body unclaimed and took it away for their “use”. And the bag of wonders, which contained his most precious things, stumbled upon the people and reached the pile of rubbish, in which the decay had taken place


Naseer Turabi’s Poetry and “Poetry” by ktiab ghar

Naseer Turabi’s Poetry and “Poetry” by ktiab ghar Listen to the manifestations, in the revolt of possibilities

See the stature of Kaf and Nun, in the mirror of attributes

Whose universe is this? Whose claimant is this?

Who needs stability in a state of instability?

In the image of existence, color is colorless

The show has seemed a bit unfocused in recent episodes

Mindfulness to a certain extent

The path of the ear could not be stopped in the appointed path

These poems of praise are taken from Naseer Turabi’s collection ‘Larib’. This is an extraordinary collection. It is impossible to determine the limits of the ear in the mirror of attributes, but the same ear is covered in full praise. The words that Naseer Turabi has used in this collection from the beginning, such as ‘kitab ghar‘ on the title, have made it clear that this book ‘Larib’ contains poetry which is an expression of his devotion and faith.

The reader first realizes from the hymns that this book requires a very careful study, then in the oceans, themes, hymns, naats, manqabats and salams used in it, that dignity is literal which is necessary for politeness in the dialect.

Naseer Turabi’s access to Persian and Urdu, memorized poems in both languages ​​which he termed as ‘voice of eternity’ The level of comprehension, vocabulary and aesthetics at which he used to look and examine poetry is achieved after many studies.

Not only sound education but his alertness and dedication too are most required. If the linguist has a creative mind, then this ability shows the whole atmosphere in his art. I can give many examples of such poems from his ghazals but I am content with just a few poems. Just look at the first ghazal of ‘Aks Faryadi’.

Mian is burning in a heart attack

There is a mirror moving around

This soul is a dance of light in its circle

This body is a shadow and the shadow is fading

This is the blindfold of a circle of imagination

This is not the heart. The tornado is bouncing

To present the intensity of a continuous state of motion, to enchant the reader in its harmony and circulation of the state. Poetry is a masterpiece of language and expression. Naseer Turabi had chosen a difficult path for himself but this was the path that his contemporaries took advantage of.

What do you know, I don’t know, my chain is someone else

The one who hurts me is the one who escapes

Mrray was like the seasons, Murray was like Berg and Bar

But now there is a different way, but now there is someone else

This city is a city, so good for the broken heart

I hope someone else asks me

Naseer Turabi, in keeping with the classical traditions of Persian and Urdu ghazals, keeps in touch with the modern age in his speech. Most of his ghazals are continuous ghazals, especially look at his long battle ghazals which present new words and new aesthetics in each poem using the same mood and theme. The first situation is not the first horror

Maybe you are not used to Hajj

One of the cities is the city of the dead

Isn’t there an expansion in the hearts of the coaches?

Among the people, my people, those people of heart

The calf is not far away from the competition

An evening of wandering that evening

No more half-windows

One night in the dead of night

The courtyard no longer needs moonlight


Now I think it is necessary to mention Naseer Turabi who did in our time the work that teachers of poetry have been doing in the past, that is, the necessary training and teaching along with poetry that could enrich the new generation with rules and techniques. Poetry is a book written with full research and confidence, he also explained the reason for writing it, with which it is not possible to disagree. In the foreword to this book he writes:

“Urdu is not just a dialect but a linguistic university of different civilizations. The great certificate of this university is called literature. There is a definite need to keep the attachment of literature attached to the past and to send it from the present to the non-existent. This need keeps calling for help from time to time for its fulfillment. ”

Next, his two sentences are inviting us to a moment of reflection and also to the gratitude that should have been paid to Naseer Turabi for this work. He writes

“This effort is actually a desire to maintain a written relationship with poetry and prose products. Behind this aspiration is perhaps a longing for the revival of our lost literary civilization. Relying solely on poetry is like being kidnapped by anarchy. ”


Naseer Turabi, realizing the scientific and cultural requirements of his time, has played his part in the development and promotion of the language, which is a lifelong endeavor that should be passed on to the new generation. In particular, his book “Lughat-ul-Awam”, compiled with his entire research to be published in 2019, should be available in the classrooms in the field of linguistics. The preface of this book is also an inspiration of thought and action which is showing the way for further study. He writes;

The use of public words has a charismatic nature. It is as if public words have a proportion of beautification in the depths of meaning. The same public word can be either satire or humor due to fluctuations in tone. Most of the public words are used in informal conversations as well as in dialogues of dramas and films. Moreover, these words are very effective in the genre of satire and humor. Even in journalistic writing, public words are widely accepted. ”

Although the name of this book is ‘Lughat-ul-Awam’, while compiling it, Naseer Turabi has taken care of the features and presented the sanad with the poems.

The lions are mine, though

But I am talking to the people

There is no doubt that Naseer Turabi was one of the fortunate personalities of our time who inherited knowledge and literature, then his mind was always inclined towards serious study and research and creation. His sudden demise has done a great disservice to our literature

Best novel faiz and loneliness

Best novel faiz and loneliness when the snare of poetry enters its siege and the wave of sarsari carries it wave by wave, when does the heart want to get out of this condition. Breaking this magical silence with a conversation is like scattering flower petals instead of enjoying the beauty and fragrance. Speaking or writing on Faiz’s poetry is like scattering petals.

Then why am I writing on Faiz? Perhaps I would like to come out of this trap and see the grace that was an extraordinary human being in his own right, who was a true intellectual both intellectually and practically, who maintained human dignity even in the worst of circumstances and the same of knowledge and wisdom. Stay on the level where only the truth is written. Faiz did not apologize for his pen and written words. Not from anyone, not from the elders, not from the contemporaries, not from the readers.

This wisdom is expressed in poetry, and with the condition of a true poet, it also creates some dimensions from the light of thought, where poetry becomes inspiration. Such poetry is free from the bondage of language and place. We are talking about the spirit of the age. novel in urdu says this soul is not present in modern poetry, then it remains nothing but lifeless words. It neither awakens the mood nor shakes the mind, nor does it evoke the invisible atmosphere that requires a great deal of art to feel. How poetry enters an invisible atmosphere is difficult to grasp. Just read Faiz’s poem and enter this siege.


From the heart will be the dead thing again, O heart, O heart

This is the beloved of loneliness

This is a guest for an hour, will go

When will this cure your love?

The savage shadows will rise in anger

It will go away, the rest of the shadows will be left

All night long your blood will be bad

War is over, no game, O heart

Enemies of life are all, all killers

This hard night too, this shadow too, loneliness too

There is no similarity between pain and war, O heart

Bring on the flames

Where is the flame of rage?

Where is that burning flower?

There is heat, there is movement, there is energy

There are two salient features of Faiz’s poetry. Resistance against imperialism and the system of exploitation. The love that is from the living lover. Romance is involved in both. In this way, the two sides are not divided into cells, but are connected to each other in most of the poems. So their resistance also seems very natural. Then they have their own dictionary which is the same in all kinds of emotions. Whether it is the bitterness of the situation or the sweetness of love, poetry and aesthetics are present in his poetry, but a very beautiful combination of the two can be felt.


In many such poems, he also addresses his beloved. His poetry transcends the scales of internal and external, and his belief in everything he writes involves his inner truth and sincerity. Thus, his poetry does not become a spot statement or slogan. For example

This stain is lightened, this night is enchanted

That was the wait, not the magic

This is not the magic you desire

Gone are the days that will be found somewhere

In the desert of the sky, the final destination of the stars

We became strangers after so many orbits

Then after many meetings they will become acquainted

In the poetry of Faiz, the depth from which the external sorrows emerge from the inner world, is the effect of the magic that awakens the poetry.


Faiz, who read in a very simple way, had a profound effect on the listeners. Faiz’s poetry is as influential in secret as it is in listening. Where did the intensity required for influence come from in Faiz’s poetry and how did it come continuously? An in-depth study of both Faiz’s poetry and prose is necessary to understand this mystery. Will the blessings still be fully revealed? Although much has been written about them. He has also written about those who have spent night and day with him and also those who have only seen, heard or read him.


Some things are written equally by everyone. Faiz spoke very little. He seemed satisfied in every situation. A faint smile was always on his face. No turmoil, no anxiety seemed to emanate from their caste. Faiz who was a poet, Faiz who was an intellectual. If his identity is revealed, then there is not only one dimension in his writing and poetry. If there is only one aspect, it is journalism. A major aspect of poetry is the poet’s own existence.


The canvas that emerges on the canvas, like a three-dimensional picture, is the poet’s own inner self. Faiz’s poetry is great poetry because in it all the colors are emerging on the canvas of his existence which simultaneously affects the heart and mind and also awakens the mood. Whether it is of happiness, of sorrow, of optimism, of despair, it keeps its reader under siege. In this siege of condition, the poet is completely alone when he suffers and writes. If I am confused about my point, then read Faiz’s poem “Loneliness”.



Then someone came to heart! No no

Tere will be a way, it will go somewhere else

Dark night, the dust of the towers began to disperse

Dream lamps began to stagger in the halls

Every passerby up to the sleeping path

Stranger footprints obscured by alien dust

Blow up the candles, increase the wine and the enamel

Lock up your sleepless doors

Now no one is here, no one will come


This article is not on this poem “Loneliness”, nor do I consider Faiz to be a loser. I consider Faiz to be the great poet who has incorporated every experience he has into poetry in such a way that it affects every sensitive individual and thus becomes a part of the collective consciousness. The sufferers and the sufferers live in the same society. Those who write under the pressure of circumstances write both of them. They also challenge the tyrannical forces that are spreading darkness.


We also invite the oppressed and the oppressed who are ready to accept this darkness. But how many people come forward to support the writer? Think, count. It is a matter of mixing voices in the sound of slogans, sitting in a ceremony and praising, but in the lonely corner in which that poet, that intellectual is writing sorrows scattered around him, who is there?


Except for his loneliness. Faiz has endured this loneliness all his life, whether in the form of a prison in his youth, in the form of exile in his last years or in the form of the silence of his compatriots while living in his homeland. Even if they talk to whom? Those who could only shout slogans, utter eulogies and then turn to those who support the forces of oppression. Faiz was a very sensitive poet. He wrote:


Others did not leave any navigator


No less reprehensible than your own Faiz had made his loneliness his strength. He kept himself locked in it all his life but he was not unhappy about it. He had this understanding which he wrote in his letter. “Sorrow and unhappiness are two different things. It is quite possible for a person to endure sorrow and be happy.” He lives because his pain is not cured by dying but by living. That is why he has been given the look that he can see beyond his own caste and beyond his promise. With this, every suffering is being borne.

Both were sad in the hope of enjoyment

You and your party, me and my loneliness

See Faiz’s thoughts in one of his letters:


“Before we went to prison, we thought captivity was a brave and lofty thing. Now it turns out that there is no article of courage or high morale in it. There is only pain and indescribable pain and the right feeling of this pain, I got from a captured bird of prey which we have been taking care of for some days. This is a small thank you that arrived at our bathroom a few days ago and was grabbed by our servant prisoner; that evening he somehow got out of the basket and flew to a tree in our yard.


His rope became entangled in the branches; his leg was broken in several places. Now he can neither fight nor hunt; one day his voice, which used to kill birds, sparrows and hawks, now they gather around him and laugh at him with one voice. And what are the voices? We see that the proud, shining eyes of sugar are blurred with pain at this humiliation. Birds can’t cry, but it fills the heart to see the helplessness of this helplessness; it will probably die in two or four days. ۔ It is only man’s destiny to live with his pain and his wounded heart because the cure for his pain is not death but life. That is why the faith and the vision that can be seen beyond its essence and beyond its covenant has been given In these words of Faiz, one can recognize the intellectual who looks beyond his age, whose sensitive existence is dissatisfied with his age. He wants change and is committed to paving the way for a better future. When his thoughts are expressed, he becomes a threat to the reactionaries. There are conspiracies against it and the common backward minds become allies of the reactionaries.


In such a case the intellectual becomes lonely with his truth. Being alone does not mean that he is alone. This loneliness can be in the company of a few people and even in a crowded place. The situation of Faiz Sahib’s personal loneliness has been described in great detail by Major Muhammad Ishaq, who spent months and years of captivity with him under the title “Rudad-e-Qafs”.


Faiz Sahib was imprisoned on March 9, 1951 and released in April 1955. Thus the days of their captivity become a little over four years. During this period he spent the first three months in Sargodha and Lyallpur jails and then till July 53 in Hyderabad (Sindh) jail with the rest of the prisoners in the Rawalpindi conspiracy case. In July 1953, we were all divided into small groups and sent to Lahore, Montgomery, Machh (Balochistan) and Hyderabad jails. For Faiz Sahib, Montgomery Central Jail was chosen along with my Captain Khuzrahiat, but since he had gone to Karachi for treatment, he went to Montgomery in 1953.


Staying together from here. I was arrested in May 1951, about three months after Faiz’s arrest. That is why God’s people kept hearing whispers. During this time, Faiz Sahib was not allowed to meet his close friends. Nor could he write to anyone. There were all sorts of rumors about him and weird weird tales about how he was treated in prison. When I first met him in Hyderabad Jail, I was satisfied. The same smiling forehead, the same shining eyes, the same Gautami smile whose light was spreading everywhere, and then that world-conquering love, which Listen and feel this experience from Faiz too:


Everyone in Bazm was happy with the milk of Sarbzam

Enlightenment burned us in vain

Feeling we have ‘Run out of gas’ emotionally

The mosque did not keep us confused

Knowing all, seeing all, understanding all, suffering and not compromising is the identity of an intellectual. The sorrow of awareness is the destiny of those who continue to enjoy grace and keep writing.

What was it like to change clothes?

Faiz never gave a respite


If Faiz did not change his clothes, then the chalk of an entire era was reflected in his poetry. This covenant is not limited to the geographical boundaries of any one region, it is not limited to borders, languages ​​and nationalities. It is the pledge of a creator who shares the thoughts of his contemporaries. Who feels their pain in every corner of the globe where people live.


Appreciates their good deeds, is depressed over their bad deeds. Beirut, Palestine, Iran, Chile, Russia, Faiz has loved the people of every country, befriended their poets and writers. Read his writings and join his caravan to fulfill his promise. It was this companionship that made modern thought a part of his speech. He writes:

In the company of rich people of speech, many new passages of expression, many new forms of lyrical speech kept appearing in the mind which kept provoking them to turn into poetry. For example, an attribution poem that was written from time to time for several months, some of it was closed in Moscow, some in Sochi, some in London and some in Karachi. This poem actually came to mind from the company of Pablo Roda and was written in his memory. “Rang hai dil ka mare”, “Ahastha” and one or two poems are a reflection of Nazim Hikmat.

Faiz himself has said what he had to say about himself. With great ease, he expressed such universal feelings that his poetry did not need to be interpreted. Read, feel and enter the siege where loneliness feels good

Latest abstract urdu novel

Latest abstract urdu novel is an important genre of literature and the basis of a research paper or research article. If there is no summary at the beginning of the research article, then it does not fall in the category of research article. The summary differs from the commentary.

The summary is a brief or detailed description of the scope of the article or document and the text of the text. The reader decides after reading the summary whether he should read the original document or article now or not. Of course, there is a reason to provide information in a quick and short time. visit here


In the opinion of Atash Durrani, “summarizing a text in such a way that the impression of the text is maintained and no matter what is seen, is called abstract writing”. In contrast, the book’s content and style are key in the commentary, and the positive and negative aspects of the material are briefly described. Commentary is a means of providing the reader with basic information about the book, on the basis of which the reader is able to form an opinion about the document or the book.

Western author Jennifer Raulli, in her book, Abstracting and Indexing, defines summaries as “summarizing the text of a summary document in such a way that it is known as the original document.” This is called a summary of the original article or draft, that is, an extract or summary of any document (article or dissertation).


In Jamia-ul-Laghat, the meanings of abstract are summarized, the best part of something, essence, essence, result, achievement. There are two types of abstracts, one “informative” and the other “descriptive”. An informative summary provides the reader with basic information about the source, while reading a statement or explanatory summary the reader concludes that the source is useful to him and reading the article or book will be useful to him.

When and how did abstraction begin? Nothing can be said with certainty about it. It is believed that it was customary to write briefly about the book on clay tablets, and then on the cover of pen books made on paper. This was the beginning of abstraction. Over time, that is how the art got better and better.

As scholarly material began to emerge with lightning speed in the early nineteenth century, this flood of publishing material created difficulties for researchers and writers on how to be aware of published material on their desired topics. Research and planning were done to control this flood of publications, so the practice of abstraction became common, considering bibliography, indexes as well as abstract writing as a means to achieve these goals. It is said that the first abstract was published in 1803, entitled Diensts Chemischer Information. In Urdu literature, abstraction, commentary and preface are seen together. Expressing one’s opinion on works in such a way that the author requests from an expert before publishing his work, then this process falls under the category of preface or preface. This kind of expression does not criticize the book, but it does suggest a way to improve the book.


The abstract is self-written by the author, so it summarizes what is in it, anyone can comment after the publication of the book, it can be binary and critical. There is no source for summaries in Urdu literature. However, some authors have expressed their views on books in a unique way. We can include them in the category of summaries.

The summary can be summarized as follows:


The abstract saves the reader time


The abstract provides an overview of the published material.


An abstract is a means of summarizing a long article and a large research paper.