Shiv Kumar Batalvi's - "Ki puCHdiyu ho haal fakeeraaN da" (Presentation - Desh Ratna)

Ki PuCHdiyu Haal - Geet Ki puCHdiyu ho haal fakeeraaN da, SaaDa nadiyuN viCHaRe neeraaN da. SaaDa haNjh di joone aaiyaaN da, SaaDa dil jaliyaaN dilgeeraaN da! Ih jaandiyaaN kujh shokh jahe RaNgaaN da naaN hi tasveeraaN hae, Jad haT gaye aseeN ishke di, Mul kar baeTHe tasveeraaN da! Saahnu lakhaaN da tan labh giya, Par ik da man vi na miliya. Kiya likhiya kise mukahdar si HathaaN deeyaaN chaar lakeeraaN da! Takdeer da aapni sauNkan si, TadbeeraaN saathoN na hoeeyaaN. Na jhaNg CHuTiya na kan paaTe JhuND laNgh giya iNjh heeraaN da. Mere geet vi lok suneeNde ne, Naale kaafar aakh sadeeNde ne, MaeN darad nu kaaba keh baeTHa Rahb naaN rakh baeTHa peeRaaN da. MaeN daanashvaraaN suneeNdiyaaN saNg, Kai vaari uhchi bol piya, Kujh maan si saahnu ishke da, Kujh daava vi si peeRaaN da! TooN khud nu aakal kahiNda haeN, MaeN khud nu aashik dasda haaN, Ih lokaaN te CHaD daeeye, Kihnu maan ne daeNde peeraaN da!

Ki PuCHdiyu Haal - Why Ask Why ask about the condition of fakirs like us? We are water, separated from its river, Emerged from a tear, Melancholy, distressed. Of course I knew that a painting is just A whimsy of colors- But when I entered the emporium of love, I paid a price. Countless bodies did I find, But not one mind did I meet. This was written in my fate, In the four lines of my palm. My destiny was my rival. I could never find a way to escape it. I did not leave Jhang, I did not pierce my ears,  And a crowd of Heers crossed my path. People listen to my songs, But call me a heretic, Because I named pain my kaaba, And sorrow, my god. On occasion, in gatherings of great people I have spoken sharply. Perhaps I was arrogant about my love, Perhaps I felt I had a claim upon pain. You call yourself a wise man, I say I am a lover. Let us leave it to the people to decide To whom they will give the esteem of a pir.