Apr 17 2006
Here is another heartfelt Nazm by Kaifi Azmi saahab from the same book I posted the earlier one out of. Ek ek lafz padh kar mai apnaa sar dhuntaa thaa, baharhaal nazm gaur farmaaiye.
The last puff of the day-wind brought from the unseen villages the scent of damp wood smoke, hot cakes, dripping undergrowth, and rotting pine-cones. That smell is the true smell of the Himalayas, and if it once gets into the blood of a man he will, at the last, forgetting everything else, return to the Hills to die. - Rudyard Kipling
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