Urdu Poetry World

Barish hui to ghar ke dareeche se lage ham,  Chup-chaap sogwaar tumhen sochte rahe…..!!!

Kai rog dey gai hai naye mausmon ki barish,,  Mujhay yaad aa rahay hain mujhay bhool janay walay..

Bhula Doon Ga Usey Agley Janam Tak Mera … Us Se Wada Ho Gaya He Bicherne Ka Usey B Dukh He Shayad Ke Ab To Wo Bhi , Aadha Ho Gaya He

Phir Youn Huwa Ka … Nikle Kisi Ki Talash Me Phir Youn Huwa Ka Khud Ko Na Paya Tamam Umar Phir Youn Huwa Ka Baton Me Ham Us Ki Aaa Gaye Phir Youn Huwa Ka Dhoke Hi Khaye Tamaam Umar

Lipta Huwa He Dil Se , Kisi Raaz Ki Soorat Ik Shakhs Ke Jis Ko , Mera Hona B Nahi He Jis Shakhs Ki Khatir Tera Ye Haal Hua He Us Ne , Tere Mar Jane Pe Rona B Nahi He

Tumhari Yaad Aati Hai To Hum Aansu Bahatay Hain Guzrey Thay Kabhi Jo Saath Din Vo Yaad Aatay Hain Isi Umeed Pe Hum Ne Khula Rakha Hai Darwaza Suna Hai Shaam Hotay Hi Bichray Lot Aatay Hain Haqarat Say Na Dekho Ay Ehl-e-Saahil Toofan Ko Kabhi Aisa Bhi Hota Ha Kinaray Doob Jatay Hain Kisi Say Kya Gila Ghalib Ye Dastoor Hai Zamanay Ka Naye Jab Yaar Miltay Hain Puranay Bhool Jatay Hain

Guzar Gya Wo Zamana, Jab Makan Ki Kachi Matti Wafa Nibhati, Aur Mohabbat K Geet Gaati Thi

bohat khush thi jab main mila tha ajj  surkh rang ka joora pahnay baithi thi  mathay pai tika lagaya hova tha us nay  hathoon pai mahndi boohat saj rahi thi  mujhay daikh.tay hi kuch khamoosh ho gae jaisay  dil kay kisi konay main gham chupae baithi thi  phir kahnay lagi kyun itna late aee ho  main kya batata kay in kadmoon ko kya shikatyt thi  nazroon nay is baitabi say daikha mujh ko  vo kya janay in aankhon main us ki kitni kami thi  khoosboo main jaysay ur rahi thi vo ajj  par in fizaoon ko bhi us ki zaroorat thi  us ki sahaili nay poocha mohabat hoi kabhi  vo kya janay kay ajj mili manzil kho gae thi  kuch bahana tabiyat kar kay main ghar loota  koan janay is tasveer main band zaindagi thi. 

Boond ban kay tapka hay pyaar mera sab nazara-e-sooz chup hain haira.n hain  vo jo hijr tha jo visaal tha  sab kachi divaaroon main raih gaye hain  in fizaoon main goongti hay aavaaz payal ki  na janay kin samatoon nay sun li hain yae ahain  aaj paihli baar raat bhar jaga hoon main  kuch khushi kay aisay gham milay hain  soochta hoon phir say zindagi jee loon main  par vo jatay jatay lamhay phir say laut aae hain.

khawaboon ko tabir karna ata nahi  main insaan hoon pyar karna ata nahi  kuun maloom kartay ho hal-e-dil tahir  is dil main itnay kantay ,dard bantna ata nahi  zaroor koi hova hay ajj baikarar sahil  is saihra main bhi chain ata nahi  kya khalish hay jo samnay ati nahi  chand too jaag mujhay sona ata nahi  yai fakat zindagi ki baat hay dost  har bhola bhatka yahan ata nahi. 

yeh ishq kya hai junoon ki intiha hai khuvab hain  manziloon ki unchai hai  ik laksh hay or  sara jahan fani hai umeed nahi parva kar  phir nahi yae zindagi aani hai  sansoon ki ik ik hararat main  waqt beet jata hai lamhon ko aah nahi  par insaan beet jata hai jis chaman main beej boya  vahan kanta ug ata hai

jaisay watq ka safar tham sa gya  ik jhalak daikhi or main kho gya  jis manzar ko samaita vohi bikhar gya  dil aisa bhatka kay rasta kho gya  kaee baar na chahay main us ko bhool gya  maira ateet gaihra ho ga,maon dooba vo ubher gya  waqt kay dagar ki choot khata raha gya  har choot say jaisay naee zindagi pata gya  zindagi to ab prai si lagti hay  ab main tum ko kya paoon,vo manzar koi or pa gya 

kabhi haira.n kabhi paraisha.n daikhoon  aee zindagi main tujhay kahan kahan daikhon  laot aoo ab main thak gya hoon  tumhi to zindagi ho tumhain kahan kahan daikhon  najanay kab waqt ki jumbish larzae  har fursat main tumhain harpal daikhoon  maira vajood mit raha hay har pal  zindagi har pal tujhay zinda martay daikhoon 

  A Native American Indian Story by Storie-Jean Agapith Illustrated by Thomas Mitton Sti'Tumma had always wanted to have beautiful beaded "shooflies" attached to her saddle, on the breastplate and under the horse's tummy on the cinch. She had already made a couple for her favorite bridle! The shooflies were made from a small amount of horsehair being folded in half, wrapped with buckskin, and beadwork put over the buckskin. The shoofly would then be clipped onto the favorite spot selected by each rider. So when the horses had their tails cleaned, the hair was saved for Sti'Tumma who then went to work to make herself some beautiful and colorful shooflies. Sometimes Gilly, Sti'Tumma's sister, would do the beadwork on a dozen shooflies at a time for the trail guides. The shooflies would move with the horse and keep some of the flies from settling on the horse!      It was a beautiful Saturday morning and time to get ready to meet the scheduled trail

by Carol Moore I've never told this story before, but just the same I'm telling you now. I was a boy of 8 in 1885 and I lived in a small town out west with my baby sister and my folks who ran the local delivery stable. It might not have been such a bad place except for one man. His name was Sliver Pete and we thought him the meanest, ugliest, most cussed hombre that ever packed a gun and it was well known he carried a Colt 45. He didn't much like to work, was a cowpoke a few months out of the year and the rest of the time he played and cheated at cards and killed anybody who called him on it. Then for recreation or just pure spite he killed every sheriff that ever tried to arrest him. There wasn't a soul that didn't fear Sliver Pete, even my Father. The townspeople ended up offering a reward of $20,000 to anyone who could either run Sliver Pete out of town or put him in his grave. Mind you, that was a fortune in those days but when Sliver Pete heard there wa

It was a day like the day before and the day after. The wind wrapped itself around the sod cabin in gusting moans as the pioneer family within carried out their tasks pretending not to hear. They heard the wind, however. It had been their constant companion on the open plains since their journey from Philadelphia two years before in the spring of 1865. Following the covered wagon train of ten, the wind had lifted the drab landscape into billows of dust falling on everyone and everything until there seemed but one color and one sound.  Now Rachel sat on the bed hand-stitching a quilt while her mother hunched over a sewing machine across the room rocking her feet backwards and forwards on a foot treadle that turned the shaft that moved the needle. The thumping counter pointed the wind outside. Laughter and giggling erupted from Rachel's younger brother and sister playing jacks on the floor and it brought a smile to their sister's face, but when she glanced back at their mother

Ollie is an eel. He likes his home in a jar. When he comes out he swims over his jar. He swims under his jar. He swims through his jar. He swims around his jar. When he is done, he swims back into his jar. Now there are two eels, Ollie and Izzy. When Ollie and Izzy come out they can swim over, under, through, around, and back into their jar together. THE END

 Not long ago and not far away there was a beautiful, big teddy bear who sat on a shelf in a drug store waiting for someone to buy him and give him a home.      His name was Wolstencroft. And he was no ordinary bear.  His fur was a lovely shade of light grey, and he had honey colored ears, nose and feet. His eyes were warm and kind and he had a wonderfully wise look on his face.      Wolstencroft looked very smart in a brown plaid waistcoat with a gold satin bow tie at his neck.      Attached to the tie was a tag with his name written in bold, black letters: Wolstencroft. He had arrived in the store just before Christmas when there had been a lovely big tree in the window, all decorated with fairy lights. Yards and yards of sparkling tinsel had been draped over everything, and holiday music had been playing all the time. Wolstencroft was especially fond of Jingle Bells. He liked its light, tinkling sounds. It always made him feel merry. At that time there had been lots of

"Ten steps from the porch and twenty steps from the rose bushes," growled Bluebeard in Jimmy's dream one night. "There be treasure there! Aawrgh." So the next day Jimmy began to dig. He dug until the hole was deep and the dirt pile was high. He kept digging. The hole got deeper and the dirt pile got higher. He dug until the hole was deepest and the dirt pile was at its highest. He sighed. "I'm too tired. I can't dig anymore." Then he spied something... ...but it was only one of Woofy's bones. Instead of treasure, all Jimmy had was a dog bone, a hole, and a big pile of dirt to fill it in with. He thought "That pirate lied to me!" But when Jimmy's mother saw what he had done, she clasped her hands and smiled a smile from here to Sunday. "Oh, thank you, Jimmy. I always wanted a rhododendron bush planted just there. Here's $5.00 for digging that hole." ~  ~  The End  ~  ~   

Once upon a time there was an old woman who loved baking gingerbread. She would bake gingerbread cookies, cakes, houses and gingerbread people, all decorated with chocolate and peppermint, caramel candies and colored frosting. She lived with her husband on a farm at the edge of town. The sweet spicy smell of gingerbread brought children skipping and running to see what would be offered that day. Unfortunately the children gobbled up the treats so fast that the old woman had a hard time keeping her supply of flour and spices to continue making the batches of gingerbread. Sometimes she suspected little hands of having reached through her kitchen window because gingerbread pieces and cookies would disappear. One time a whole gingerbread house vanished mysteriously. She told her husband, "Those naughty children are at it again. They don't understand all they have to do is knock on the door and I'll give them my gingerbread treats."   One day she made a special b