The mind is constantly changing.
arz hai:

kabhi tamanna jahaan bhar ki, kabhi har ik shai se be-niyaazi
kabhi tavajjo ki justujū hai, kabhi taGhaaful ko DhuunDta huuñ

This sher is by Prof. Raj Kumar Pathria ‘Qais’ (1933 – 2026).
tamanna: desire
shai: thing
be-niyaazi: detachment
tavajjo: attention
justuju: search
taGhaaful: neglect, indifference, forgetfulness
A rough translation:

sometimes, a desire for the whole world
other times, a detachment from everything
sometimes, seeking attention
other times, searching for neglect

This is an introspective sher in which the speaker observes the shifting states of his own mind. What makes it striking is not only the idea, but also the way it is expressed. The key idea is simple and human: we want society, recognition, and attention, but at times we also withdraw from them. We want to be seen, and yet sometimes we want to disappear.

The sher also connects to a deeper classical theme in Urdu poetry: the tension between talab and be-niyaazi, between longing and detachment. In classical Ghazal, be-niyaazi is often associated with the beloved’s indifference or aloofness. When applied to the aashiq, however, it can suggest a higher state: freedom from worldly desire, spiritual self-sufficiency, or a detachment from material things because of complete devotion to the beloved.

The second misra has a subtle irony. When the speaker says he is searching for taGhaaful, he reveals that even neglect has become an object of desire. In other words, the wish to be ignored is still a wish. One might say that the ego can attach itself even to renunciation.

What gives the sher beauty is its delicate balance. The first line moves between desire and detachment; the second between attention and neglect. Each phrase mirrors or resists the next, creating a rhythmic swing between opposite states of mind. The repeated kabhi reinforces this oscillation, giving the sher a sense of motion rather than rest.

The sher also has a pleasing sonic effect. Repeated ‘t’ sounds in tamanna, tavajjo, taGhaaful, and ‘j’ sounds in jahaan, tavajjo, justujū, create an internal rhythm that supports the meaning. 

The mind is a restless ocean. Thought rises and falls, expands and contracts, much like a wave. That image may help us understand it: thoughts are not static objects, but movements of energy, with their own peaks, troughs, and rhythms. To make sense of it all, will an equation help? 🙂