Lost, or so was I, since quite some time now. I have been through many things, many places over these past few days which make me sad, jealous, regretful, happy and glad all at the same time about everything that happened. Shuttling between my two homes and two cities to which I am ever a stranger I have a reason to feel lost, I believe. The stench of both these witches, the cities is there to strangle me enough that I would feel close to dying but not quite strong to let me die of it – and hence, I continue to swing. The other day, I felt a little occupied, performing a skilled bricoleur when I fixed a couple of large mirrors in a couple of large rooms. I wrote a little, and felt a little worthwhile of my own self when I managed to finish some work. There’s this feeling of malaise when you’re suddenly left with nothing to do and with all the time for your own self, which leads you to think you should be doing something, changing your life for the better – in short, leaving you restless. The next day, I started off being a gardener. While weeding out the unnecessary tall grass however, the sweet looking tiny little sickle came striking into my palm as if it was too keen to change my fate written in those huge wide paws at the end of my long hands. Somehow, I didn’t feel the pain – any pain, and smiled at the puerile effort of the sickle and continued working. At the end of it, almost close to the afternoon, when I poured water on my soiled hands the cuts revealed their depth and I happened to believe that the sweet looking sickle was much more than what I’d thought of her to be. Some things in life are not meant to be taken at their face value.
I resolved not to work any more that day, and try and make good of this break after all. And this morning when I looked at the person in the mirror, I fell in love with my self again. I noticed again those small dents on my cheek and in the centre of my chin and the dis-aligned teeth lurking out when I smile, which was longed for, and loved at some point in time. Some claim of this as my being full of my own self, some as a conceit. I’m back to being a narcissist, in love with me again. I recounted a few of the many things to do once I’m back to the witch and thought of the days before I had left it. I have an instinct that tells me that the witch is not going to shelter me for long, for I shall move out, move on. They say that you live here only until this place owes you your food and your water – and then you move someplace else, where your life is destined to be. But nothing is ever enough where the witch is. You crave for more, and toil harder to grapple it with both your hands in a hapless gamble. Such is life! It still goes on, to keep you going.
And while I was on my way back to myself, this song played in my head – a poetry written by Shiv Kumar Batalvi. He had written this poetry sometime in the early 70s, but the sound of the song is fresh enough to make one think of life and its quest again. The poem is in Punjabi, a language which is spoken with the heart. The lyrics have a sort of soothing warmth that the poet offers to the soiled hearts of the readers. An abridged version of the poem can be heard in Rabbi Shergill’s debut album, titled Rabbi. The poem is titled Ishtihaar (advert).
॥ इश्तिहार ॥
इक कुडी, जे दा नाम मोहब्बत
गुम है, गुम है, गुम है
साद मुरादी, सोहणी फ़बत…
गुम है, गुम है, गुम है
इक कुडी, जे दा नाम मोहब्बत
गुम है, गुम है, गुम है
गुम है, गुम है, गुम है… ॥
सूरत उसदी, परियां वरगी,
सीरत दी औ मरियम लगदी,
हसदी है तां, फुल झडदे ने
टुड्दी है तां, गज़ल है लगदी…
लम्म से लम्मी, सरु कद दी
उमर अजे है, मरके अग दी
पर नैणां दी गल समझदी
इक कुडी, जे दा नाम मोहब्बत
साद मुरादी, सोहणी फ़बत…
गुमयां जनम जनम हुण होए,
पर लगदा ज्यों कल दी गल है,
यूं लगदा ज्यों अज दी गल है,
यूं लगदा ज्यों हुण दी गल है…
हुण तां मेरे कोल खडी सी,
हुण तां मेरे कोल नहीं है,
एह की छ्ल है, एह की फटकण?
सोच मेरी हैरान बडी है,
नजर मेरी हर आंदे जांदे
चेहरे दा रंग फोल रही है,
उस कुडी नु, टोल रही है॥
इक कुडी, जे दा नाम मोहब्बत
साद मुरादी, सोहणी फ़बत…
सांझ ढले बाज़ारां दे जद
मोडां ते खुश्बु उगदी है
वेहल थकावट बेचैनी जद,
चहु राहेयां ते आ जुडदी है
रौले लिप्पी तन्हाई विच
उस कुडी दी थड खांदी है,
उस कुडी दी थड दिसदी है।
हर छिन मैंनु युं लगदा है,
हर दिन मैंनु युं लगदा है,
जडे जशन ने भीडां विचों
जडी महक दे झुरमत विचों
औ मैंनु आवाज़ दवॆगी
मैं ओहनु पहचाण लॆवांगा
औ मैंनु पहचाण लॆवॆगी
पर उस रौले दी हड विचों
कोई मैंनु आवाज़ ना देंदा
कोई भी मेरे वाल न वॆंहदा॥
पर खौरे क्यों तपला लगदा,
पर खौरे क्यों झौल्ला पैंदा,
हर दिन हर इक भीड जुडी छों,
बट औं दा ज्यों लंघके जांदा।
पर मैंनु ही नज़र ना औंदा
गुम गया मैं उस कुडी दे
चहरे दे विच गुम्मया रेंहदा
उस दे गम विच घुलया रेंहदा
उस दे गम विच खुरदा जांदा!
उस कुडी नु मेरी सौं है,
उस कुडी नु अपणी सौं है
उस कुडी नु सब दी सौं है
उस कुडी नु जग दी सौं है
उस कुडी नु रब दी सौं है
जे किथे पढ्दी सुणदी होवे
ज्यौंदी होवे ओ मर रही होवे
इक वारी आके मिल जावे
वफ़ा मेरी नु दाग ना लावे
नहीं तां मैंथों जिया ना जांदा
गीत कोई लिखया ना जांदा!
इक कुडी, जे दा नाम मोहब्बत
गुम है, गुम है, गुम है
साद मुरादी, सोहणी फ़बत…
गुम है, गुम है, गुम है
इक कुडी, जे दा नाम मोहब्बत
गुम है, गुम है, गुम है
गुम है, गुम है, गुम है… ॥
