After a long, very long time, I have been imprisoned again. I always used to be imprisoned like this. Every week, I had a different jail to stay in. And I had friends too, who loved being chained like me.
Chained by a tune. Sometimes two lines, sometimes a lone line, fluttering through every crevice. There was 'Bade acche lagte hain' which was stuck in my throat one morning in class. And was stuck in two other friends' throat as well. In different tunes and different pitch. Well, all of us had barely managed to listen to it, for the first time in our lives, at the 10 pm chayageet the previous night. And it had imprisoned all the three of us. And since we were feverishly gulping songs at that time, we had to belt this out to each other. That was the whole purpose of our existence. Chaya, if you are reading this, do you remember the other line...dekho kasam se, dekho kasam se, kehte hain tumse yaar...there was Shammi in front of us jiggling his plump arms or so we imagined (I for one, have not managed to see the actual picturisation). We beat rhythm with ponytails (forget it, am not going to explain this). And it is possible for bliss to sneak out. Ye duniya usiki, zamana usika. Kashmir ki Kali. Rafi in deep soporofics. This song's like oysters. You either love'em or hate'em. Then there was 'Aa khel khele hum ek khel khele hum' This one has an intrinsic rule built into it, methinks. Those who know this song sing it in unison. I sang it, after many years, in unison of course, with another.
And so today morning while in the auto, two lines washed over me. Khamoshi guftugu hone lagi hain; Zindagi khwab mein khone lagi hain. It's a song originally composed by a band called Auroh from Pakistan. I love watching Pakistani television on you tube. The words soothe my intense desire to visit Lahore. Mashallah. Shaque-o-gumman. I can see the city in my dreams. I imagine stately men in achkans, men who have swallowed Faiz Ahmed Faiz whole. I could see London also before I saw, that is. Not that it resembled. I can still smell though. Let's not go into smell now. That deserves another time.
And those lines sung in Atif's voice. It sounded, (I have told atleast four people from morning), like feeling warm raisins. Now, have you ever eaten raisins slightly warmed indirectly? They have to be sultanas, mind you and you have to keep them in a vessel already heated on the stove. And keep them for only around three minutes. Feel. And then listen to this song. Not the original. Atif's cover version.
By the way, this kind of of imprisonment makes me want to hug everybody I meet. Makes me want to call up old friends and rediscover. There is lot I have rediscovered this year. It has been special in only that way. I am hoping it will make me write to one estranged friend too. It definitely made the grumpy auto driver look affable. I did not even ask for the five-rupee change back. I think today, I will forgive saint Diana Hayden too.
Here's the link for those who want to accompany me to jail. Don't look at the video. Listen in the dark.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HdwH3XXtQmM
And the lyrics.
Bheegi si ek raat ye
Le aayi kya saath ye
Dhadkane jo hame kehne lagi hain
Khamoshi ke darmiyan
Kab chahe thi baat ye
Dhadkane jo hame kehne lagi hain
Na kaho Na suno
Khamoshi guftugu hone lagi hain
Zindagi khwab mein khone lagi hain
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