jin ke kirdar se aati ho sadaqat ki mahak un ki tadris se patthar bhi pighal sakte hain

achchhe ustaad ke andar eik bachcha baitha hota hai jo haath utha-utha kar aur sar hila-hila kar bataata jaata ki baat samajh mein aayi ki nahi.

daanishgahon mein mushkil se chaar feesad ya teen feesad asaatezaa aise honge jo mutaalea farmate hain. baqi sab taraqqi ki hijje karte rahte hain. aisay qahat ke aalam mein jab yeh maaloom hota hai ki falaan shakhs ne kitaab parhi hai to kis qadar musarrat hoti hai, is ko sahih taur par bayaan karna mushkil hai.

shagird hain ham 'mir' se ustad ke 'rasikh' ustadon ka ustad hai ustad hamara

rahbar bhi ye hamdam bhi ye ghham-khvar hamare ustad ye qaumon ke hain meamar hamare

vahi shagird phir ho jaate hain ustad ai 'jauhar' jo apne jan-o-dil se khidmat-e-ustad karte hain

ustad ke ehsan ka kar shukr 'munir' aaj ki ahl-e-sukhan ne tiri tarif badi baat

ab mujhe manen na manen ai 'hafiz' mante hain sab mire ustad ko

falsafe saare kitabon men ulajh kar rah gae dars-gahon men nisabon ki thakan baaqi rahi

kis tarah 'amanat' na rahun ghham se main dil-gir ankhon men phira karti hai ustad ki surat

ye fann-e-ishq hai aave use tinat men jis ki ho tu zahid pir-e-na-balighh hai be-tah tujh ko kya aave

meer says love is not a skill learned by display of piety; it requires an inborn capacity of the heart. he mocks the zahid who poses as a spiritual guide yet lacks depth and lived experience. the metaphor of a “childish elder” exposes hollow authority: outward age or religiosity without inner maturity cannot grasp عشق.

mujh se jo chahiye vo dars-e-basirat liije main khud avaz huun meri koi avaz nahin

asatiza ne mira haath thaam rakkha hai isi liye to main pahuncha huun apni manzil par

padhne vaala bhi to karta hai kisi se mansub sabhi kirdar kahani ke nahin hote hain

shab-e-mah men jab bhi ye dard utha kabhi bait kahe likhi chand-nagar kabhi koh se ja sar phod mare kabhi qais ko ja ustad kiya

tu ne ustad ko ustad nahin samjha hai ja tujhe koi sabaq yaad nahin ho sakta

mahrum huun main khidmat-e-ustad se 'munir' kalkatta mujh ko gor se bhi tang ho gaya

jin ke kirdar se aati ho sadaqat ki mahak un ki tadris se patthar bhi pighal sakte hain

achchhe ustaad ke andar eik bachcha baitha hota hai jo haath utha-utha kar aur sar hila-hila kar bataata jaata ki baat samajh mein aayi ki nahi.

daanishgahon mein mushkil se chaar feesad ya teen feesad asaatezaa aise honge jo mutaalea farmate hain. baqi sab taraqqi ki hijje karte rahte hain. aisay qahat ke aalam mein jab yeh maaloom hota hai ki falaan shakhs ne kitaab parhi hai to kis qadar musarrat hoti hai, is ko sahih taur par bayaan karna mushkil hai.

dekha na kohkan koi farhad ke baghhair aata nahin hai fan koi ustad ke baghhair

adab taalim ka jauhar hai zevar hai javani ka vahi shagird hain jo khidmat-e-ustad karte hain

rahbar bhi ye hamdam bhi ye ghham-khvar hamare ustad ye qaumon ke hain meamar hamare

madrasa mera meri zaat men hai khud moallim huun khud kitab huun main

ustad ke ehsan ka kar shukr 'munir' aaj ki ahl-e-sukhan ne tiri tarif badi baat

ahl-e-binash ko hai tufan-e-havadis maktab lutma-e-mauj kam az saili-e-ustad nahin

ghalib says true understanding is educated by upheavals: disasters and sudden turns of fate function as a school for the perceptive. the “storm” and the “wave’s slap” are metaphors for repeated shocks and hardships. these blows discipline the mind like a strict teacher, shaping wisdom through pain rather than comfort.

falsafe saare kitabon men ulajh kar rah gae dars-gahon men nisabon ki thakan baaqi rahi

sach ye hai ham hi mohabbat ka sabaq padh na sake varna an-padh to na the ham ko padhane vaale

mahrum huun main khidmat-e-ustad se 'munir' kalkatta mujh ko gor se bhi tang ho gaya

mujh se jo chahiye vo dars-e-basirat liije main khud avaz huun meri koi avaz nahin

shagird tarz-e-khanda-zani men hai gul tira ustad-e-andalib hain soz-o-fughhan men ham

padhne vaala bhi to karta hai kisi se mansub sabhi kirdar kahani ke nahin hote hain

hai aur ilm o adab maktab-e-mohabbat men ki hai vahan ka moallim juda adiib juda

zauq highlights that the path of love operates on principles completely different from worldly education. in the school of love, conventional logic does not apply, and the instructors who teach the heart's curriculum are of a rare and spiritual breed, unlike standard academic teachers.

tu ne ustad ko ustad nahin samjha hai ja tujhe koi sabaq yaad nahin ho sakta