Edited by author 05-03-2008 03:31 PM
POSTED FOR MICHAEL GEST: AN HOUR OF REMEMBRANCE FOR SHANTI, MAY 4TH 5-6 PM PST

   (SUGGESTED MUSIC: go to http://hos.com and stream (very inexpensive) program # 558 -- a very nice setting of Allegri's 'Miserere' with choral and renaissance cornetto elaborations. Or look for the CD 'Sacred Treasures II'.)

Dear ones, Please join us for a few moments of thinking about Shanti and her spirit continuing its path. There are many things that she had hopes for. One was that her song could bring american people to tears. That she could sing and they would understand the pain of life. The other was that she was a big fan of Ghalib, even a devotee. Would you join us, she and Galib and I and others drinking a glass of very special fine wine together; sharing misery, sadness, and joy and Ghalib.

When I am dead, I conjure you, remember how I died.
Remember how my corpse lay all unshrouded in your lane.

I was not one of those whose death made no stir in the world,
Remember bow the pious wept and the brhamins amd lament.

Ask how the men of feeling mourned in harmonious song,
Remember how the men of culture wrote in there elegies.

Ask any man the sum of my loyalties to you.
Remember all the cruelties you practised on me.
Say what my soul saw, seeing in your intoxicated eyes,
Remember what passed in my head, seeing your coiling tress.
----
My friend, what have your heaven and hell to give?
I have within me, the joy of my imaginings, the would that scars my heart.

---
My life has passed, more bitter than destruction,
Come bring me now a death more sweet than life.
___________Ghalib

To my friend and collaborator Shanti Sharma
Sakijan, henna hands and feet,
Heaven sent joy in my sister’s street.
Poetry, and music and spiritual rap,
A friend in need, of a spiritual map.

More wine Ms Sakijan,
more humma than henna.
Is it heartsong of friends, our song of the tenor.
Or classical raga singing even better.

She never stopped singing even till she died.
And next to her ashes does my heart still lie.
--Michael

Every day, at early dawn, that sultan
And the secret of the one who has
The consent of God, sit together there.
I say. “greetings to both of you.”

Heart is settled at his temple
Expecting that sultan to scatter gold and gifts.

Soul has drunk form the cup of wine and has passed out
Until judgment day. Heart has been putting or share
On the table of our body, time by time, and saying,

“The hand of Loves’s Jesus offers happiness
To Every dead one and health
 to every sick one from that share.

With that share, the garden
Of drinks will have leaves
And become green and adorned.
The harp, wich is bent over, will gain melodies.”

Body is dancing with ten-ten beats.
Soul has already gone to the land of Abscence;
Is ruined and is falling to the ground.

Dungeons became heaven form the sound
Of loves reed flute. The judge of reason
Became drunk at the bench of judgement.
---Rumi

_
O cupbearer who offers wine,
Come give wine.
 Our cup is empty.
 Fill it with that love’s wine.

O perfect beauty, O friend of complete
Greatness and favor, my body
Is the cup to me.
Your love is the wine.

There is no lover who could see your face
For one moment and not suffer from
Your troubles, be melted down.

Oh full moon, even death is beautiful,
When I am with you, but you don’t kill,
To reach you is to be saved from trouble.

When your love sings praises, it seems that
Pigeons and doves repeat it’s words,
And coo in my heart

You kindly offered me that beautiful wine
So that my heart became purifed and shone.
--Rumi

Quatrain from Persian

I married a princess from tamal
And built her a house over here.
Only janisme knows our secret,
Only she cans see my tear.
  anonymous

After Hearing the News

The Moon has risen and now begins to wane
The pool of my tears reflect its light.
Slowly disappearing, leaving only the burning sun
Quickly taking my heart, my fun.

Laxsmi beauty and intelligence mind,
Innocent curiosity of what we’ll find.
Budding flower, song bird of sound
Muse, my soul sister, in you I found.

Lover of leaving, we will pay your price,
Courage in dying, fear in life.
Elegance in all but not in the end,
You leave a torn heart which will never mend.

We had fun, we had meaning, we had a life of pleasure.
Didn’t you agree a future without measure?
Was life so perfect it couldn’t get better,
Or what was it that caused you to see it so bitter?

You were my moon, in you I saw myself beautiful,
With your light I saw you so elegant.
Now in my heart life’s ideal I am losing.
This picture of us I’m no longer choosing.

In giving yourself to music,
You became so much more,
Thank you for letting us love you.
You became even more.

Thank you for opening your worlds to me,
A new world, a new India did I see.
And Sarasvati on lotus, there you did sit.
Learning my world and how we could fit.

So I guess you are in heaven, or maybe hell is the word.
My mind, and my heart without fear looks toward,
The time when we are twins souls of one mind
And one heart.
The time my burning stops, and the memory doesn’t hurt.

But not to much, I don’t want to forget you.
Such short time of knowing, such an important time of my life.

I don’t want us to end, but how can we grow?
I’ll hold you forever, your love I will know.
---
Peace Poem we wrote in honor of the Tibetan struggle and the DLama. This was performed in Urdu and English in Seattle
Peace is too important to be left to politicians and generals,,
Peace is to dear to seek in the bazaar
The caravanserai of life promises,teases peace in many forms
Only at my lovers breast is peace everlasting.
 
No king, or nation or woman can bring peace.
No God or jinn bears its gift.
No name of country or city of hope,only the Lhasha in my heart, is the garden of peace.
 
Sitting in my garden, gratitude is my Tibet, my Jerusalem. Only sitting in my garden is my everlasting peace
ZINDAGI KA KARVANKARTA HAI AMAN KE VAADE PAR MUKARTA HAI,
DARASL MAASHUQ KE AAGOSH ME HAI AMAN KI AMAANAT,
AUR KAHAN MILTA HAI?
MERE MAASHUQ KI HAR DHADKAN MEIN USKE GESU KI KHUSHBOO MEIN BASTA HAI AMAN.
GULISTANE LHASA,FAZA-E-JERUSALEM KO USKI MERI QURBATON NE MAHFOOZ RAKHA. .
USKI SAANSON KI HARARAT, BELAUS MUHABBAT LAMHA-E-VISAL NE IN GHAYAL SHAHRON KO SHIFA DI.WOH SHAHR JO LAHULUHAN HAIN MUDDATON SE,
BILAKH RAHE HAIN ZULM KE GHERE ME ,
SIRF HUM AASHIQON KE SEENON ME MAHFOOZ HAIN.
BAGHBAN HAIN HUM IS FIRDAUS KE ,IN ROOH KI VADIYON KE.
MUSAHIBON AUR HUQUMATON KO NA BANAO IS KE MUHAFIZ, AMAN HAI VOH AMAANAT TERI AUR MERI MUSTAQBIL KI,
KARTI HAI QAYANAT TUJH SE MUJHSE GUZARISH,AAP BANO ISKE MUHAFIZ,AAP BANO ISKE MUHAFIZ.