Remember my songs...

A crowded garden, a thousand lights. Countless people, countless voices: a multitude of emotions.

An old man in a black tuxedo, playing the piano and singing old, sad songs. "For the price of a smile", he says, "all for a smile".

So we sit around the table, smiles upon our faces, tears glistening in our eyes, and the foreboding of loss heavy in our heart. And we pay for the songs with smiles and we sing along, each of us trying to make the evening memorable.

Chaltay, chaltay, mairay ye geet yaad rakhna...
As you move on, remember my songs...

It was definitely memorable. That walk, the play of emotions across a face, the confusion, the shy smiles; the hesitant admission, the laughter and the tears. And the promise to remember forever...


28th April 2007.

The presence of absence...

When someone dies, we all know what the waiting and mourning period is. It’s like an in built program. We cry the first day and it hurts like hell. We cry the second day too. By the third day, a sort of hysterical relief kicks in. We find our selves laughing crazily at stupid things. Then slowly but surely the storm starts to pass. We get comfortably numb, and yet, we never forget. A little gesture, a forgotten scent, anything can spark a flood of memories and the dull, silent ache is right there, in your heart.

It’s all right. Like I said, that’s how we’re programmed. We learn to accept death. We know how long to mourn, how long it’s supposed to hurt; how long it’s acceptable to cry about it; when the broken heart should mend.

But what is the mourning period for a loved one lost, not to death, but in the countless unmarked streets of life? How long should we hurt? When should the heart forget? Should we wait, clasping the hurt to ourselves, or should we give it up and accept the absolute presence of absence?

I only wish this was an inbuilt program too.


“With searching comes loss, and the presence of absence.”

We'll go down fighting...

Life is so vast, we never know what is significant in the grand scheme of things, and what is not. What should matter and what doesn’t. What should hurt and what shouldn’t. What we should remember and what we should banish to the dark recesses of our mind.

So we live it like we would live a moment. We live so everything is significant. Everything hurts, and every little joy is bliss. And we forget nothing, and remember forever. And in that one moment, we live eternity.

Life’s tough. Fortunately, we’re tougher.

Some where beyond the heart

Aur kuch dair main jab phir mairay tanha dil ko
Fiq'r aa le gi ke tanhai ka kia chara karay
Dard aaey ga dabay pao'n liey surkh chiraagh
Woh jo ik dard dharakta hai kahin, dil se paray

Dil se phir ho gi mairi baat, k aey dil aey dil
Ye jo mehboob bana hai tairi tanhai ka
Ye to' mehmaa'n hai gharri bhar ka chala jaey
Mushta'al ho ke abhi uthein ge wehshi saa'ey
Ye chala jaey ga, reh jaein ge baqi saey....


And in a little while, when my lonely heart will, once more,
Be distraught with worry, to find a solution to its loneliness
Pain will steel through me, glowing lantern held aloft:
The pain that beats somewhere beyond the heart;

And to my heart I'll say: O' heart,
This alleviator of your loneliness, your companion in solitude
Is, but the guest of a few moments, he will leave.
And clouds of gloom, banked down, will ignite again;
It is shadows that will remain; he will be gone...


So there it is. Love and betrayal. Reality barging in, to drag us out, kicking and screaming, of our love induced stupors.

Until it's just "me" again. And a memory of "us".

I don't believe in "happily ever after"s. Not for Romantic love, or any other kind. It's a wave, not a tide. It doesn't last a life time, or even half a one. It's a crazy little see-saw, where all the "downs" hurt like hell.

And yet, if you look back, when the pain has dulled a little, and if you really really try, it will let you look beyond the heart break. That's where the beautiful memories live.

So we march on to the beat of our hearts, knowing how it will be, ignoring all the warnings of our calculating brains. We march on, because it's the memories that make life worth living any way.

[It's Faiz again. I can't imagine how one person could express every one of the emotions we experience in our lives, with such soft poignancy. I wish he was still alive and I could meet him.]