#hindustan

LIVE
 तू जहाँ जहाँ चलेगामेरा साया साथ होगामेरा साया साथ होगा… कभी मुझको याद करके, जो बहेंगे तेरे आ तू जहाँ जहाँ चलेगामेरा साया साथ होगामेरा साया साथ होगा… कभी मुझको याद करके, जो बहेंगे तेरे आ तू जहाँ जहाँ चलेगामेरा साया साथ होगामेरा साया साथ होगा… कभी मुझको याद करके, जो बहेंगे तेरे आ तू जहाँ जहाँ चलेगामेरा साया साथ होगामेरा साया साथ होगा… कभी मुझको याद करके, जो बहेंगे तेरे आ

तू जहाँ जहाँ चलेगा
मेरा साया साथ होगा
मेरा साया साथ होगा…

कभी मुझको याद करके, जो बहेंगे तेरे आँसू
तो वहीं पे रोक लेंगे, उन्हें आ के मेरे आँसू

मैं अगर बिछड़ भी जाऊँ, कभी मेरा ग़म न करना
मेरा प्यार याद करके, कभी आँख नम न करना

तू कोई जनम भी लेगा
मेरा साया साथ होगा…

I would have opened this letter with a ‘dear’, however I wondered for a long time if it would indeed be a correct way for me to address you, after all this time. A lifetime seems to have passed between that evening of 1952 and now, sometimes even making me feel that I have slept through the last 30 years. I would often look at faces of my children and grandchildren, wondering if I am stuck in some never ending dream from which I might wake up any minute now. My hair has greyed in the fringes of my temple and forehead, my smile is showing signs of wrinkle and my fingers feel heavy. It’s not a terrible feeling, I enjoy my experiences most of the time, but sometimes my body feels like it is living the life of someone else. And that in a different timeline I am still there playing with you behind that tree.  Is it still there? I was so sure I will forget everything, you, those lanes, that house and all else. Are you also there? Do you also, like me, go to sleep in the expectation of reliving our lives till 16 years of age again and again, like listening to a record on loop or going to see one particular cinema multiple times? If you are coming back from there, can you accompany me back to myself as well please?

This night seems to be taking all away from me again. The moon is cruel.


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