Friday, December 31, 2004

After a series of movies, it was then the turn of music to rule roost for a while…25th, 26th and 27th of December were soaked in music…but unlike what Shakespeare thought, surfeiting the appetite didn’t sicken and so die! Dr. Prabha Atre Foundation was celebrating the centenary year of legendary Hindustani vocalist Hirabai Barodekar and a series of concerts were being held at Vile Parle to commemorate the same. Sagar and me bought tickets and decided that we would attend. And what a treat to the soul and ears it was! Over 3 days we managed to witness some fine music by some of the stalwarts of the Indian classical style. Dr Prabha Atre ( she sang Raag Shyam Kalyan, Chandrakauns and Tilak Kamod), Dr L Subramaniam ( with Bahudhari and Kafi ragas), the legendary Pt. Bhimsen Joshi ( Yaman and Bhairavi), Malini Rajurkar (Madhuvanti and Kafi), Begum Parveen Sultana ( Puriyadhanashree, Maluha Maand and bhajans), Ustads Imrat Khan-Wajahad Khan (Darbari Kanada) were some of the artists we managed to hear. Couldn’t get lucky enough to hear Kishori Amonkar, Pt Hariprasad Chaurasia, Pt Shiv Kumar Sharma and Pt Birju maharaj as my own concert was at stake! It was the most unprepared rendition that I’ve ever dabbled with. But all was well that ended well…the audience seemed to like whatever I dished out- Raga Nata. Hindolam and Sindhu Bhairavi. At the end of it all, for all the tension, it went off well!

December 26th there was a rare event I intended to attend…one for which Shubha Mudgal ji had sent a personal invitation. Some of the old records of one of the greatest icons of Hindustani music Smt Kesarbai Kerkar of the 1930’s or so were recovered by Shubha ji and her husband Aneesh Pradhan. The same were digitally re-recorded and brought back for re-circulation among the public domain, under the name of ‘Living music from the past’ series. It was too tempting an invitation to turn down and so I made a trip all the way to Matunga on a Sunday morning. Shubha ji was there right at the entrance---she is always such a pleasant and wonderful person to speak to! The programme began with a talk by musicologist-historian Dr Ashok Ranade. His witty and insightful interventions on the life and times of Kesarbai and music in general, laced with some dialogues in Marathi were a veritable treat! This was followed by a listening session of the CD’s and some of the best pieces of Kesarbai’s music in a variety of Raags—glimpses atleast—was the most beautiful thing to listen to. After the event, during a discussion, I suggested to Shubha ji if she could do a similar exercise with Carnatic musicians of yore—perhaps start with someone no less than Smt Subbulakshmi. She seemed pretty inclined. I in fact mailed her a rare photograph of MS and Kesarbai—two ‘peerless divas’ of their respective styles!. It seems MS gave charity concerts to help Kesarbai set up her famed scholarship fund—something which has helped many of today’s top notch Hindustani vocalists to establish themselves under learned gurus. Pity that such camaraderie and friendship is singularly lacking in the musicians of these two great styles among today’s generation! I do hope this idea takes greater shape as also other ideas that cropped up in mind as I heard the voice of the 1930’s—in raptures!

Overall, one of the most satisfying weeks of the year---pity that I had to wait for the last week of the year for this—but then, better late than never!

Friday, December 24, 2004

The last week has been a veritable Film festival for me:-) After long, i caught up with the cinemas in town and boy! what an amazing tale each has been! To see three classic movies like Khamosh Pani, Swades and Raincoat(premiere show!) is after all little less than a film festival!

All the three stories have been so captivating; with some of the most brilliant screenplays, acting and direction. Kirron Kher(yeah shez got another 'r' in her name now!) looked cut to the character of Ayesha in the Pakistan of the 70's. It's a small, almost frail film held together by a great inner strength of conviction. In some sense, "Khamosh Pani" is exactly like its protagonist, the spirited Ayesha who's at once a prototype of history's casualty and a fiercely individualistic woman who has survived political and personal holocausts and traumas with aplomb...only to be defeated finally by forces that sometimes flourish in our very backyard. The movie is in chaste Punjabi--something i initially felt terribly uncomfortable with--but, somehow without my knowledge i slipped into the comfort zone, as the narrative caught on. Through the movie, it is gestures, suggestive undercurrents, long, yet meaningful silences that seem to convey the message more articulately than words could possibly do...no doubt the significance of the word 'Khamosh pani'---and like the uncomplaining water, which finally swallows the protagonist, the film stands apart from its characters to let them create their own spatial harmony within the given theme of dissonance and destruction that is brought about in the wake of communal frenzy and hatred. Punjabi plays, movies, folk themes and music seem to have this heart rendering theme of Partition and its after math--after all it was the heart of the Land of the five rivers that was sliced and bore the maximum brunt of the lunacy that gripped our subcontinent in 1947. There was this distinct pathos visible even in some of the songs i recently heard in a concert of noted Punjabi Folk singer Gurmeet Bawa. The movie does more than justice to this existential crisis that our brethren in Punjab faced(or still continue to face).

If this was depressing in a way, 'Swades' brought with it a glimmer of hope--hope in the middle of all our unsatiable pessimism and cynicism. Shahrukh Khan,as Mohan Bhargava -the protagonist has perhaps given some of his best and most sensitive portrays in this movie. His vacant eyes as he sits through the bumpy dusty ride to a village(reminsicent of my Pilani trips!!) somehow seemed to haunt me. They didnt need to speak much to convey what they felt! I guess never before has he conveyed so much pain through his eyes.It just goes to show that even for someone who has had a lucrative job at NASA and who hasnt touched anything but mineral water in his life, to see a kid at a country side railway station exult at getting 25 paise for a kulhar of earthern water can turn up tomes inside you! Fortunately it isnt Bollywood-style jingoistic and loud, crass patriotism where actors cut their wrists in front of a huge portrait of 'Bharat Mata' and mothers berate their sons to lay their lives for the nation and crap on those lines. it is so very practical, plausible and yet fraught with hope for the future. Ashutosh Gowarikar seems to have this amazing knack for making movies that instil optimism, that bring out the theme of history being nothing but class struggle and the ultimate victory of conviction. There were moments in the movie when my eyes went moist--the meeting of the protagonist with his old foster mother and the traditions therein, the little boy selling water at the railway station, the impoverished family of Haridas, the smile on old Setu's face as her catarct affected eyes glimmer with the glowing of the bulb....strengthened my resolve at the end of the 3.5 hrs that we, or rather me, as an individual needs to do something tangible for this nation, rather than sit and merely crib! My thoughts went back to Ramesh Ramnathan and the wonderful manner in which he had inspired me during our association earlier this year at Janaagraha.

Completing my trilogy of films was 'Raincoat'-something that i had been eagerly waiting to see. The last time i had seen Rituparno Ghosh's work was 'Choker Bali'--i had sat through the Bengali version(half in awe of the raptuous Aishwarya Rai!) and made my best attempt to understand the language i once boasted of being conversant with! Ajay Devgan and Aishwarya have been marvellous in their roles in this movie, as has been Annu Kapoor in his small intervention. Inspired by O Henry, the plot and the manner in which it unfolds is Chekovian in nature with the ultimare Roald-like twist in the tale at the end!A lot gets conveyed using the Raincoat as allegory.The poignancy of the characters especially of Niroo(Rai) is depressingin fact after a point we begin to see Niroo's verbose delusions of marital grandeur as both tragic and funny.What remains with us long after the last frame is the narrative's tremulous nostalgia. Little droplets of memories quiver tremblingly over the trees that arch their branches into the movie's static backdrop. You don't see the trees but you feel the calmness of lives that have gone into emotional remission. It seems to end abruptly somewhere leaving behind a baggage of unsaid thoughts and lines- a lot of food for thought for the audience(thinking ones i mean!) and scope to look back at the narrative and dialogues and read between the lines. It is a classic definition of love as something that surpasses mere physical or sensual gratification, but something that entails with it tremendous amounts of selflessness and sacrifice---something that both the lead characters do in not so much a garrulous manner, but softly, quietly and in the most inconspicuous of ways! Most of all it delineates the innermost recesses of nostalgia in a language that's related more to poetry than prose. Ironically this was the theme in all the three movies i saw this week--where words fail, the eyes take on! Three completely different protagonists and three entirely different settings--Pakistan, rural UP and Kolkata; yet the same underlying theme! Thats the unifying spirit of the arts! Aishwarya's blank expression, her unease at lying about her grandeur and pompous existence, the secrets that the bhabhi's eyes conceal, the torrents of unrequited love that Ajay's eyes seem to barricade---like Dahl's amazing short story--the Eyes definitely have it!

A truly satisfying week i must say when cinema touched the finer chords of life--Bollywood's come of age atlast! But the regret of having missed out on yet another movie i was passionate about seeing--'Morning Raga'--is something that'll keep pinching me on and off!

Sunday, December 19, 2004

Just finished reading Chetan Bhagat's amazing story tale- 'Five point someone'. In more ways than one, the novel brought back memories of my unforgettable days at BITS-Pilani. As much as i cribbed and hated and cursed the place and its inadequecies, when i was there; i would be economical with the truth, if i said i didnt miss those desert dunes--now, that iam sitting in the midst of 'civilization' many, many miles away. The characters of Alok, Ryan and Hari were so much like some of us, the same ragging episodes, the same uninspired and uinspiring Profs, the pathetic evaluation pattern and the more pathetic grades!

I was certainly not in the 5-point league at Pilani, but i was no trail blazer either- barring a single year when i surprised myself by scoring a ten! I was always happy and content with being a little above average or may be even average; because being an 'anti-establishment' kinda person, i knew these didnt matter too much. At the end of those long tortuous years that we put in the pursuit of education, what really matters is what remains...and memorizing Schrodinger's equation or stresses and strains on beams would not ameliorate my life in any tangible way! The entire gamut of a marks-driven education system makes us evaluate fellow human beings by the ONLY yardstick that we know of. Education--atleast higher education---in my view, must aim, not at producing the TEN- nut-cracking- parrots, but help you in becoming a better human being. Many a times, i ponder whether i would have thought differently had i been on the other side of the fence--are all these ramblings a mere grapes-are-sour analogy? On some introspection, i would stick with my ramblings. Its not that i havent tasted the highs of extravagant, puffed up scores on my card...but that was in school and at a time when performance set you apart as wheat from chaff and helped you climb the pedastals of the respected portals of higher learning...but having got there, if one still doesnt forsake the school-kid mentality and instead channelizes all their energies in the pursuit of those double digit GPA's; a loser is what such a person can be called as.

No, but wait..i dont agree entirely with Bhagat either...if a person(like many i know of) can quite effortlessly manage to maintain his impeccable records, then hats off to the true genius. Chetan, in his narrative, tends to fall into the trap of the oft-repeated stereotype...a ten pointer(like Venkat in his book) neednt always be the one who is heartless, totally insensitive and salivates at the sight of grades...nor is it necessary that a five-point lowest like Ryan is the all-too-intelligent-but-i-care-a-damn-about-academic-excellence kinds, who is oozing with the milk of friendship and comradiere. We all humans lie somewhere in between as shades of grey.

To me these formative years in one's lives--perhaps the first time many of us would be leaving home--should be exercises at self-development; times when we learn to fly by ourselves without our parents having to hand-hold, to enjoy and learn to utilize responsibly the independence that we are bestowed with, to learn the art of self-management(no moms here to keep your breakfast ready and clothes ironed or dads to handle your bank accounts!); learn co-existence with friends of varied backgrounds and interests, nurture some of the most treasured friendships in life; expose yourself to a plethora of extra curricular activities which go a long way in shaping one's holistic personality...and in the process also pick up some worldly knowlegde of Physics and Chemistry and the rest!! The tendency to look down upon someone who has a comparitively lower CGPA, the perennial "whats your CG for u to talk like a stud?" questions really show nothing but unadulterated naivete and lack of maturity...after all the one with a 5-point something CG also has two hands, two legs and the rest as the ten-pointer stud! In this context, fie upon all those companies, which make academic performance as the whole-and-sole criteria for their recruitment process...while i agree that you cant possibly hire a person whoz failed in every course he's registered, measuring excellence to the second decimal place of a candidate's CGPA speaks so lowly of that company's priorities...and the treasures they might be missing in the process...a man(or a woman!) to me, is not his(or her!) CGPA only, but CGPA also!

All said and done, i now better pull up socks and salvage my pathetic, sinking grades at B-school :-) While in Rome, be a Roman!!



Monday, December 13, 2004

I have actually survived December 13th! I wasnt too sure of how i would go through the day...had many plans for the evening, including some quiet time with myself either at the krishna mandir or Juhu beach...but then surprises, they say, bring great happiness! And it was a complete surprise that UN actually mailed me about it(wonder how she managed to remember!) and asked me to meet her...when i did, we decided that we'd drive down to her Worli residence and sing through the evening...and i instantly agreed. In a small room there, with agarbattis lit in front of a snap that i took along, we sang and sang and sang ,with the tanpura in the background, till our voices went hoarse! Steeped in devotion, each of the bhajans brought with them a strange calmness on me and at the end of it all, i could almost feel the presence around me--just as it used to be at home, whenever i got my tanpura down to sing for her a marathon quasi-Classical concert :-)
With hands folded UN said in a poignant tone--"i salute the motherhood that has gone into making someone like this boy beside me!"...my eyes cudnt help but overflow!

Strangely at the end of the day, the tunes, the meditation, the positive energy that we generated is making me feel so much more light, at ease and in complete harmony with myself and my surroundings....atleast for today, i dont want to spoil the serenity by looking back! i know that she lives...and she lives through me!

Sunday, December 12, 2004

It is with disbelief and grief that i greeted the news of the passing away of veritably one of the greatest legends of contemporary Indian Music- Bharat Ratna M S Subbulakshmi. I felt a sudden grief engulf me, as though i had lost a family member. She is in fact a family member in millions of South indian families who wake up each day to her immortal Suprabhatams and for whom the world of Carnatic music is synonymous with her! What a woman! Despite these trails that she had blazed, MS, as she was lovingly called, was as humble as humble could get...epitomizing the role of the Mira that she had played in a yesteryears' movie. Divinity , complete submission to the divine, a voice steeped in devotion---an idol of hundreds of thousands of music lovers across the world who thronged to her concerts; to see her sit in rapt attention, eyes closed, her diamond nose rings glittering as much as her fast paced bhrigas with a glow on her face which comes after ages of penance. She was, in my view, a gana tapaswini.
That voice has been rated peerless from the shy days of her debut when it soared like the high-pitched notes of a bird in springtime. Few other artists have been as successful as Subbulakshmi in the melding of the conscious and the unconscious, the inborn and the reflective elements of her art.

It is said that shortly before his assassination, Mahatma Gandhi requested M S Subbulakshmi to record his favourite bhajan for him. She did not know that song. But how could she not learn it for him when Bapu said he would rather hear her speak the song than someone else sing it? It was a marvel of a feat for a woman those days to enter and rule the Carnatic music stage which was a male bastion. And MS did it so effortlessly, without even realising that she was the Empress! The first woman receipient of the Sangita Kalanidhi, the first Carnatic vocalist to popularize the art in the West, receipient of the Bharat Ratna---these awards got their meaning when conferred on her! In my view, her greatest contribution to carnatic music was re-establishing the element of Bhakti in the music, which had been the foundation of the style immortalised by the Trinity and the singing bards, but which had hitherto been compromised by many purist musicians for the sake of musical gimmicry and arithmetic brilliance and jugglery. While she sang in more than 10 Indian languages, none of the renditions were done without understanding the meaning of the songs and internalising the inherent Bhava or emotion.

On a personal note, i remember meeting MS when i was too young to realise that i was face-to-face with veritably the incarnation of Goddess Saraswati. I must have been around 10-11 years old then. And to my innocent eyes, she looked no different and loving than my own grandmother...frail, humble, absolutely no airs about herself ( i had heard her discussing Pulioyogarai recepies with my grandmom!) and completely loveable! She was in Bangalore to release the album of select compositions of my great grand uncle who was a celebrated composer-musician in the royal court of Mysore...after the function(what a fool i was to have stayed out, playing with a couple of friends rather than attend the concert!); she made a fletting visit home...when told that i was learning music too, her face had beamed with a childlike happiness..."Nalla practice paNNu, kaNNa..." is all i remember of what she had told me, when i was made to take her blessings!

Invariably my thoughts have been going to that fleeting, yet everlasting encounter with the Empress of Indian Music. Its tough, nay, impossible to find a replica to MS. None would be able to emulate her devotion, sublimity and musical honesty. It is with a deep sense of remorse that i pray that her soul finds everlasting peace!

Friday, December 10, 2004

I had decided not to fill in too many posts for this month, rather wait for it to pass...but somehow the happenings of the past 2 days necessiated my meeting my ultimate punchbag--my blog! Well, its been a rather disappointing day--the kind of stories about me that i heard were doing the rounds in spicmacay circles, the turn around by someone whom i had hitherto considered a very close confidante(i cudnt trust my ears that GB would turn this way!)..there was this strange restlessness that engulfed me after hearing the entire story; it lingered on through last night and i cudnt catch an inch of sleep..got up with such a heavy head and a crouching stomach that lingered on through the day..didnt even feel like having lunch...somehow i cant face it when people i considered close suddenly decide to emulate the chameleon...for no reason whatsoever! SD, GB...people who at some point of time mattered a lot; but now for no reason have ended up antagonizing me in the way no foe would! Strange are the twists and turns of life!

By evening it was getting pretty stifling and i decided that i had had enough of it..the Bombay times carried this ad about a concert of 'sandhi raags' at the Iskcon auditorium in Juhu...just to get my mind off this crap, i got off to Juhu..luckily managed to get the tickets...Pt Rajan and Pt Sajan Mishra's Hindustani vocal it was..always a treat to the ears and soul...beside me there was a young foreigner, good looking and had the features of a typical yogi--the proverbial radiance emanating from his face, no one cudve missed noticing him! The concert started..the Mishra brothers started off with Raag Kaushiki Kaanada and exposed it to the sublimest extents...this was followed by raag Durbari and a rare Tarana in Malkauns.Through the concert a couple of times i glanced at my neighbour and he was sitting cross legged on the chair, eyes closed, shaking his head now and then each time the raag took an interesting twist..it was truly a pleasure to see the way he was enjoying the music--literally soaking himself in it...in the row in front of us we had a couple of guys--seemingly artists themselves--who, after a while, cudnt seem to hold their attention and drifted into occasional chatter and giggle...suddenly they;d get out of their jibber and shout 'Kya baat hai' and slip back to their noisy shells!! so much so that even Rajan ji had to admonish them once saying 'Bhai, kripya thodi shanti rakhiye'.

I too was getting irritated with these high decibel interjections...listening to a concert is an art in itself where you take off on this journey of the raag either with the artist as your conductor or chart your own course...potholes like these chattering men certainly act as speed breakers in this journey. i tried giving them D-looks but none of it worked...till our young yogi got irritated to the extent that he opened his eyes in irritation..shook the guy in front and said-" Look here mister, no onez forcing you to sit here and listen to the concert...if talking is what you want to do, kindly leave the hall..but you have NO right to disturb those of us who are here to enjoy the music"....that was IT ! the gori chamdi did the magic i guess...none of them opened their mouths after that and we had a wonderful time till the end of the concert..

As we walked out together, i cudnt help but congratulate my friend for his brave act! He smiled and said 'I am amazed...how can Indians be so oblivious of their own culture? They dont realise that they have an unparalleled culture..but what we also see is the ignorance about themselves and their roots is also unparallelled...take those jerks sitting in front of us for instance...what a pain in the $#% they were"!! i was stumped...i requested him for an intro and he told me he was American--James Allen--who came to india 6-7 years ago...accidentally he happened to attend a concert where he heard Pt Jasraj and that was IT...he said he felt he had found his calling..he had always been deeply spiritual, though Christianity didnt satisfy the yearnings of his soul...but he felt Indian classical music--which isnt the prerogative of any religion per se--could establish that direct link with Divinity like nothing else could! He decided to stay back in india for a while and pursue music here! And has been learning from a very reknowned musician in Mumbai ever since!

He asked me--did u understand why they sang the Raags that they did? I wasnt too sure--i said Sandhi raag perhaps meant evening/night raags and all of them were night melodies. He smiled and said 'yeah thats true no doubt..but there is more to it...sandhi is a sanskrit word for Union..a merger of two dissimilar things to produce something new and outstanding...Kaushiki Kaanada is a product of Malkauns and Darbari...the same Gandhara and Madhyam..couldnt you notice the amalgamation of these two in the rendition...they wanted to show us how these raags sounded individually and in union!" My jaw seriously dropped...i gave him a hug and said " James, i have no words to speak...im humbled by your knowledge...i have realised today that despite the 14-15 odd years of learning music myself, how little of it i know and understand" Truly,my happiness knew no bounds...Here was a man who didnot belong to this country by birth, but surpassed all of us in his knowledge of the land--atleast those nincompoopish chatterati who sat there polluting the auditorium! He told me we could meet up a couple of times; he had a large collection of rare gramophone records of which we could have an exclusive listening session! He was also very curious to know more about Carnatic Music which always remains an enigma for a vast majority of music lovers!! i assured him that whatever little i knew, i would share with him!

After a small dinner together, we parted ways...mind totally at ease, in fact filled with exhiliration! Gone were the thoughts of all those boorish Spicmacay buffoons--they could hang themselves up in a loooooooooooong rope which i would sponsor if they so desired. they were certainly not worth my time and sentiments..! as a coincidence a friend of mine sent me an sms which read " We rubbed the sacred powder of culture on our forehead but the stain of barbarity refused to go..."-- a verse of Kaifi Azmi! How very true with respect to some of our power-hungry, shallow champions of the "movement" !! and in contrast, what a human being i get to meet at the end of such a horrible, lousy day:-))

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Have been totally at unease with myself through the day...right from the time I opened my eyes and the calendar seemed to have been changed by my roommate and i saw 'December' peering at me with a certain sense of triumph. 'See, ive got back' he seemed to say...

It was supposed to the day when after years and years of dreaming and talking about it, the website that I had been planning for my erstwhile spicmacay chapter at Pilani was to finally see the light of day...i was pretty kicked about it till last night, when i sat on till 3 giving some final touches here and there...but even that evanesced this morning...and the couple of nice things that people who saw the site had to say were also lost on deaf ears...

Just wanted to be left alone...the mandir seemed a nice place...for a while...till a few middle aged women trooped in and started their incessant talking in animated Marathi...thought of the lake...was real nice to sit there throwing pebbles..till ofcourse a few love bird pairs from Bhawans college made their way there, making me feel all the more uncomfortable...may be my bed was the best destination...and i hit the sacks in broad daylight...didnt want to go out for dinner too, but then, societal pressure is something thats difficult to counter...so sauntered along....and sat there for the heck of it--mere physical presence kinds!

But by the time the dust and din of the day settled, the reality hit me with a bang...its been one FULL year..since i faced December 2003. The one month saw me losing two people, who in various capacities meant a lot to me--one always and the other at that point of time(it would be unfair to the former if i equated the two!) One i lost to my own stupidities, indecisions, apprehensions and insecurities; the other to Fate. And Ive ACTUALLY survived this loss? Im still breathing, so it seems like I have ! Atleast i didnt think i could ever spend one full year without getting patted to sleep on those frail laps and those wrinkled hands stroking my tired foreheads....that was enough to energize me in the midst of every strife, every tribulation.
Even as i was thinking of this, with Jagjit singh's ghazals to give me company, the emotions got the better of me...torrents of saline water cant be kept constrained by the fragile dams called eyelids after all...

And just when i was thinking of the person, i got a buzz from KT...my ultimate hope and succour! My hands involuntarily went towards the mobile phone and i buzzed KT...
Talking to KT for a loooong time after eons, really helped ease my heart; atleast temporarily...its difficult for me to lie to him...nor can i cloak my emotions in feigned smiles and giggles...its just not possible! and so there was just these long, meaningful silences interjecting the conversation...the disconnect of the talk--one topic to another to yet another spoke volumes of the mess within..but hey, i know this is temporary..it shall pass away too..."sainkadon patthar, Ek aina ..kab thak aakhir, aakhir kab thak"is what Chitra Singh seems to think and rightly so! aah! i just want this month to pass off soon...and i dont want to talk abt this to anyone and everyone--well, i told KT the same. Its my prerogative and choice about whom i want to unburden with...hey! somethingz wrong with the day...just as i write this, my winamp plays this apt Ghazal of Jagjit-now i dont know if one can call this a mere coincidence!

Baat nikalegi to phir door talak jaayegi
Log bevajah udasi ka sabab poochenge
Yeh bhi poochenge ki tum itne pareshaan kyun ho
Ungaliyan uthengi sukhe hue balon ki taraf
Ik nazar dekhenge guzre hue saalon ki taraf
Chudiyon par bhi kai tanzir kiye jayenge
Kaampthe haathon pe bhi phikre kase jayenge
Log zaalim hain har ek baat ka taana denge
Baaton baaton mein mera zikar bhi le aayenge
Unki baaton ka zara sa bhi asar math lena
Varna chehre ke taason se samajh jayenge
Chahe kuchh bhi ho sawalat na karna unse
Mere baare mein koi baat na karna unse...
Baat nikalegi to phir door talak jayegi...

Aaah! Wish i could put time on a fast forward mode of a month....