#oldhindimovies
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 आँसूमैं अगर बिछड़ भी जाऊँ, कभी मेरा ग़म न करना
मेरा प्यार याद करके, कभी आँख नम न करनातू 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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रजनीगंधा फूल तुम्हारे , मेहेके यूँ ही जीवन में यूँ ही मेहेके प्रीत पिया की मेरे अनुरागी मन में
Your tuberose flowers for no reason emit aroma in my existence. And for no reason effuse my mate’s love in my devoted consciousness.
Hi. I am writing this in the middle of the night, more as a sort of remembrance for myself than as something for you. Chances are you might never see this letter, even though it is addressed to you. Today when I was waiting near the railway station for you, I made a sudden observation. I was restless. I was pushing my two thumbs together, slightly shaking my knee and glancing left and right. Then suddenly, when I was staring at the small chai stall near the station for a long time, it suddenly hit me that I was restless. Restless looking for you, if you had come, if you were coming, from which direction you were coming, what kind of expression were you carrying on your face and many other such questions. It struck me as a bit odd, at first. I am not used to feeling like this. I live an ordinary life, an ordinary home, an ordinary existence. People like us have very less to feel restless about. But, it’s nice, feels very…human. I smile more these days too. Do not mistake my smiles as frivolous, they are every bit as sincere as yours. Today this realization has made my heart feel full, like I do after a good meal made by my mother. Today’s meal for my heart has been your gift. Thank you.
Photographs from: Rajnigandha (1974), Basu Chatterjee
Adhoora hoon main afsana, Jo yaad aaoon chale aana Mera jo haal hai tujh bin, Woh aakar dekhte jaana
Yeh laakhon gham yeh tanhaayi, Mohabbat ki yeh ruswaayi Kati aisi kai raatein, Na tum aaye na maut aayi
Dekhte hain tan mera, mann mein chubhti hain nazar. Honth sil jaate unke, narm honthon se magar. Ginti rehtii huun main apni karvaton ke silasile. Kya karun, Kaise kahun. Raat kab kaise dhale. Jiya jale jaan jale, nainon tale dhuaan chale. Raat bhar dhuaan chale.
They say when love befall on a woman, she turns mad and her eyes turn red. Lies and yet they aren’t untrue. I lie here, pricking at the helm of my skirt, glancing at the lamp, counting the time waiting for your return. Waiting and thinking about how you might set light afire on the edges of my skin again, how your lips sealed against mine will feel different tonight, how you fingertips will trace again the edges of my mehndi today which I have reapplied for your visual pleasure, even the mehndi on my feet will br crushed as the familiar pain arises. My heart burns and yet I cannot scream for this pain of passion must remain private lest people talk. My thousand confessions stand still at the tip of my tongue. My glances of forlorn are reserved for you and you only. So come soon, so we must be lighted unto each other.
(I watched Dil Se the other day, and realized this song was a masterpiece depicton of female passion and sexuality which isn’t talked about in our society much. So I needed to make a tribute ofc)
