mashur hai riwayat rahte the pirwa hum
gaawn mein arab ke mir jaao mirwa hum
mir jaa aamir fika kasa bahim bhikha
miran ko mufli si thi soke afim bhi tha
ek roz bola mirza miran se haj ko jaye
dirhum hai jo mere vo sar se mein milke laye
dono le dil mein haj tha ajme wahilana
hatho mein hath dekar paidal huye rawana

dono the khushi akaak miran se murdni thi
dekha to dabbiya bilkul khali afim ki thi
bola na ho jo jiski kaise kadam uthaun
vo gaawn samne hai thahro afim laun
pehro ke baad bhi jab wapas na mir aaya
mirza ne tang aakar apna kadam badhaya
pahucha jo haj ko mirza dekha ajib manjar
be ikhtiyaar aaye toba ke lbj par
aswad ke gird dekha hal prem roshni ke
sab hathiyo ke aage miran tabaf mein the
khush hokar doda mirza lekin mila na miran
har karwa mein dekha lekin mila na miran
lauta jo gaawn mirza miran mila wahi par
bola ye mir se wo kya raaz hai ayakar
jab tum nahi the haj mein kya ruh haj ko aayi
miran ne has ke usko ru dad yu sunayi

main ho ki tum se rukhtak us gaawn mein jo pahucha
chhaya tha kehar uspar viran ho raha tha
ek aur gaawn jakar aaseki lekar boli
louta usi makan par aur khud pakayi roti
bachho ke baad budho ko phifr jawan ko di
khud apne hath se yu pahuchayi sabko roti
wapas chala to bola ek pir jane wale
jaoge humko karke kya maut ke hawale
ye sunke thoda douda phir paaw dagmagaye
dil aur apneyu mujhko sabak padhaye
dil ne kaha ki hak ka kabahi ghar nahi hai
dekhu koi bata de allah kidhar hai
sunke main dil ki roya kuch der ladkhdaya
sar tab baigam ko phir apna kadam badhaya
takdir ki kuch aesi har shabd sath aaya
jo ujre gaawn aaya khurak sath laya
milkar sabhi ne chasme se nehr khod dala

yu dono bastiyo par pani ki good dali
is kaam se jo nipta din haj ka aa gaya tha
kaise ubur karta do din ka rasta tha
yu duaa khudaya mainay ka saza hai
lekin dikhaw kudrat kawe ke paas pahuche
itne mein aankh jhapti ek nur ka tha jalwa
irsad kar rahe the kuch yu rasul allah
wada tha hsr akbar ka tujh se humne bhule
aaya vo sang aswan use aur badh ke chhu le
sodaye sajda lekar jo sar jaha jhuka hai
apni jagah se hatkar wakab aa gaya
vo dekh hidr tere khud kab ghumta hai
makke ka zarra zarra kadmo ko chumata hai
jis khak par ek aansu maljnu ka gira hia
jalwa wahi khuda ka aakar simat gaya hai

They say, in that Arab village, we dwelled,
Two souls, mirroring, a tale to be held.
Mirza, the Amir, with a meager purse,
And Meeran, the opium's numbing curse.

One day, Mirza spoke of a pilgrimage grand,
"My dirhams I'll gather, from this barren land."
Their hearts, ablaze with a fervent desire,
They set forth together, hands clasping fire.

Meeran, with joy, yet a shadow of dread,
Found his opium tin, utterly dead.
"How can I walk, when my spirit is frail?
I'll fetch the solace, beyond this vale."
Hours passed, Meeran delayed in return,
Mirza, impatient, his spirit did burn.

He reached the Kaaba, a vision untold,
Black stones encircled, with stories of old.
Around the blessed Kaaba, love's radiant glow,
Meeran, in ecstasy, in the sacred flow.
Mirza, rejoiced, yet Meeran was gone,
In every caravan, his face withdrawn.

Returning, he found Meeran, in the village's embrace,
"What secret, Meeran, hides in this holy space?"
"When you were in Hajj, what spirit did soar?"
Meeran, with a smile, revealed to him more:

"I went, as your reflection, to that forsaken place,
Where sorrow had cast its desolate face.
I begged for sustenance, from a distant lane,
Returned, and with my own hands baked grain.
First to the children, then the aged so weak,
With my own hands, their hunger to speak.
As I turned to leave, a voice softly sighed,
'Will you leave us to death, with naught to confide?'
I faltered, my spirit wrestled within,
My heart and soul, where do I begin?
My heart whispered, 'God is not in a stone,'
'Show me, oh guide, where He can be known.'
I wept, then stumbled, my journey renewed,
By fate's gentle hand, sustenance accrued.
To the desolate village, I carried my share,
Together, we built a life of care.

We dug a canal, by our united will,
And nourished the land, where the sorrow was still.
Then came the day of the Hajj, drawing near,
But two days' journey, filled with doubt and fear.
I prayed, 'Oh Lord, I am unworthy, I know,'
Yet longed to touch the Kaaba's holy glow.
Then a radiant light, as my eyelids did close,
The Prophet's words, in a divine repose:
'You were promised a great gathering, your vow.
Touch the sacred stone, and bow down now.'
As I bowed in worship, the heavens did part,
The Kaaba itself, embraced my heart.
The very dust of Mecca, now kisses your feet,
Where a lover's tear, found its holy retreat."