Famous poet Munawwar Rana has died at the age of 71 due to a heart attack in PGI Hospital, Lucknow. Munawwar Rana was ill for the last several months and was undergoing treatment at PGI Hospital in Lucknow. Born on November 26, 1952 in Rae Bareli, Uttar Pradesh, Munawwar Rana’s contribution to Urdu literature and poetry has been memorable. His most famous poem was Maa, in which the qualities of a mother were described in the traditional ghazal style. Munawwar Rana received many honors. He also received the prestigious Sahitya Akademi Award in 2014 for his poetry collection Shahdaba. Other awards he has received include Amir Khusro Award, Mir Taqi Mir Award, Ghalib Award, Dr. Zakir Hussain Award and Saraswati Samaj Award.
When the pen, wrapped in mother’s love, came down to paper, it touched the heart. Munawwar Rana has gifted many heart touching ghazals, poems, poems and shayari to his lovers. Even though he is no longer among us, his emotions will always rule our hearts through his words. Read some of his famous works here
I was the youngest in the house, my mother came to my share – Munawwar Rana
Did anyone get a house or a shop?
I was the youngest in the house and my mother took my share.
No one who left here came back
I kept crying but did not go back but mother came.
It is not good to return half way
Even if the world came to call, where did it come?
Then maybe she will take someone from the village to a foreign country.
Flying train, lots of smoke again
All my habits are present in my children.
Then why did these unlucky people not know Urdu?
There is no sense of seasons in Qafs
God knows whether it came out in the chaman or the anger came in.
Houses are houses, rocks are broken
If the name-o-sign of the storm comes to blow away
Sometimes, oh good fortune, you would come to my house too.
Reached here, reached there, came here, came there
Emperors have been taught to have calendars – Munawwar Rana
Kings have been taught to be calendars
You think it’s easy to be humble
Even a tear is a threat to the government
Have you not seen there is a sea of eyes
Only love for children stopped my steps
Otherwise it was easy for me to be homeless
We know that we have reached the heights of fame.
The soil of the grave has been seen to be even.
This would be called bad luck.
your coming into town and my going out
When I think about it, it sounds like a story.
to be on the rooftop after meeting the road
Fate doesn’t let me reach otherwise
It’s an honor to be that level of a scoundrel.
I live only to tell the date
Now there has to be a calendar in Mira’s house too.
It is very difficult to forget, everything is remembered – Munawwar Rana
It is very difficult to forget, everything is remembered
The one who loves remains ruined because of this
Even if he lives in a golden cage, he is a prisoner.
The bird is the one who remains free
There are some etiquettes for walking around in Chaman.
Never go there, Sayyad lives there
The memory of all the paths in childhood gets wrapped up
Wherever I pass, I remember the way.
We also still remember our good days ‘Rana’
Every person remembers his time
Mix it into soil and it cannot be separated – Munawwar Rana
so mixed in the soil that it cannot be separated
Now I can’t be more tired than this
Someone has set his eyes on the threshold
Roshan can never be given so much
Just join me with my voice
Then see what can’t happen in this city
Oh death, you got me out of trouble
Sayyad thought that he could not be released
Please take this ashes of my body there sometime
Can’t this much work happen after all?
Maula died after prostrating his forehead.
This debt cannot be paid with eyes.
It is very difficult to go to the court.
A person who is a qalandar cannot be a mace
Mother used to sit and wait from where the road was found – Munawwar Rana
Old letters came out of the cupboard
This rash appeared on my face again
Mother used to sit and wait from where the road met.
As soon as the soil was removed, the treasures came out.
It is possible that even the village may not recognize us.
In childhood itself we left home to earn money
O grains of sand, there are many favors for you.
came out on the pretext of moistening the eyes
Now we can’t come even if you call.
We have come a long way from you
There is always a fear in my heart
I don’t know which house Tiri came from.