A Prayer

1991

"Repeat after me," Mom said, "Om Mrityunjay Mahadev..."

"Om Mrityunjay Mahadev...," I repeated like a parrot.

Calcutta (as it was known back then) had still not shrugged off the days of "load-shedding" and it was during one such evening during a power failure that Mom decided I was old enough to start learning Sanskrit shlokas.

I still remember the dark room, Mom sitting on a sofa and asking me to repeat the shloka aloud. After about 5 times, I confidently declared that I'd memorized it completely. Like all mothers, Mom knew that it would take a lot more than just five repetitions for me to "know it by heart". She made me repeat the shloka a couple of hundred times over the next few weeks for it to get firmly embedded in my consciousness.

2008

I was in Bangalore (as it was known back then ~sighs~) and staying alone in my one room apartment in Koramangala. I haven't ALWAYS been regular with my daily prayers, but do get curious about religion from time to time. Add to that, I've always been fascinated by the personality that is Shiva. I don't remember where, but I chanced upon Neelima Chitgopekar's book on Shiva.

Whilst browsing, I was merely reading aloud the many shlokas which were scattered through the length of the book when something strange happened. One particular shloka, which I hadn't ever heard in its entirety, let alone memorized, struck a chord somewhere. As I went back and forth over it, I realized that I started singing the shloka in a particular metre.

I was puzzled. Where was this coming from? How was I being able to anticipate the next few verses of a hymn which had never been taught to me?

It took me a while to figure out that I had known this shloka since my childhood. All my growing up years, I had heard Mom repeat the shloka while doing her morning and evening puja. And yes, the shloka was repeated in the exact same metre that I was repeating it in now. I had never paid any particular attention to her while she prayed; I would be reading a book or running around the house like any normal kid. But somewhere, the shloka had stuck inside my head and today it was all coming back to me.

I realize I have been very fortunate in my life to have some fantastic teachers. I keep bumping into new ones even today, and boy am I grateful I do.

But the one teacher who I owe it most to is my Mom.

"Guru Govind dono khade, kake lagu paaye?

Balihaari guru aapki Govind diyo bataaye."

The Lord and my teacher both stand in front of me,

I know not whom to offer obeisance first.

The answer to which is, dear teacher,

You were the one who showed me the path to the Lord.

Mom, you continue to inspire me.

A Vagabond's Realisation

Something I wrote a couple of months ago.

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He felt he had everything in the world.

He smiled, laughed and danced with the wind, the moon and the stars. He roamed the villages, towns and forests and met others like him. He looked at them incredulously, amazed and astounded at their display of emotions. He was so much like them, and yet, so different.

"Or does everyone feel that way?" And with that, a smile descended on that clear face and he let the question and the thought drift away. Just like that.

That was him. Not a care in the world.

He hadn't seen a mirror in months. He had occasionally seen his reflection in the flowing water of the stream but the ripples on the surface always made it difficult for him to see his face properly. That never worried him much. He knew the world would accept him just as he was. Just as he had accepted the world as it was.

He would walk, sometimes mindlessly rush, in a general direction all day. A motley crowd was indeed headed somewhere in the same direction as he was but none were certain about their destination. They often paused during the day wondering which way they should go. It would sometimes lead to some of these fellow travellers deciding they needed to head elsewhere.

They passed him by on their journey.

He never disliked them; never said a harsh word. He couldn't. That wasn't him. All he would do, is sometimes allow himself to look at the departing friends with a smile and with a sigh tell himself it was perhaps all right to envy them. Sometimes. Perhaps.

Hopefully, someday, somewhere...

In another lifetime, maybe...

He loved his band of vagabonds. Bound by the invisible cord that often bonds carefree spirits, they were a joyous bunch who shared food, drink, laughter and love.

He loved listening to ballads. The great pathos in the voices of the untrained countryside singers filled his heart with great sorrow every time he heard them. The emotion of the songs moved him like nothing else could, not even like some of the greatest of literature he'd read.

He had fallen in love with nature. Mountains of all sorts and wide-open beaches were his playground. He climbed rocky mountain surfaces and swam in the deep blue ocean with equal fervour and joy. Sometimes, he would just run on the beaches with his hands spread out, like a kite in the wind.

He would look up at the skies when it would rain. He would try to decide whether the heavenly droplets were fore-bearers of grief or joyous moments. He tried not to be judgmental, but it was difficult. He would strain looking at the skies as if waiting to hear the graceful music of the gods.

Indeed, one day, he just broke down and cried his heart out. "Why?" he asked himself. "Idiot," came the impish reply, "you never asked 'why' when you laughed out loud... Just feel the moment and flow with the rhythm of the universe."

Yet, he now knew what they meant when they said you might have everything and yet have nothing at all.

Adieu

You will be missed.

Random Midnight Thoughts - Episode 1 (?)

Random Midnight Thought (RMT) # 1: I get more SMSes from bots telling me about Minutes Of Usages (MOUs) clocked on my service than from friends telling me the latest gup-shup in their life.

RMT # 2: I'm listening to 'All Izz Well' from 3 Idiots in a desperate bid to induce myself into thinking that all is indeed well.

RMT # 3: I just realised why older people don't get drunk easily; the more the pain, the more alcohol necessary to heal the wounds... albeit temporarily

RMT # 4: When friends know your secrets better than your parents, it's easier to hide things from your parents than your friends

RMT # 5: "Agle mod pe, maut khadi hai.... marne ki bhi kya jaldi hai?"

RMT # 6: I wish I could just drive a car at full speed across a highway all through the night so that I could ultimately see the sun rising at dawn

Sleep with a smile

The long day has come to an end. Silence surrounds you. The gentle warmth of the blanket engulfs you.

Try smiling as you close your eyes and drift off to sleep. It is a happy feeling.

Remind yourself of whatever brings a smile:

Mom's cooking

A baby's laughter

A loved one's gentle touch

Pride on your father's face

A guitar strumming the first strands of your favorite song

Tiffin breaks in school

Bunking college classes

Steaming hot kulhars of chai in chilly winter nights

The first drops of monsoon

~ Dear Reader, add your own list here :) ~

Give Me Some Sunshine Redux

I guess one measure of how popular a Hindi film song is in public conscience is by the number of avatars the general public invent for it.

The earliest such song that comes to memory is "Tu tu tu...tu tu tara... todo na dil hamara". Apparently, roadside Romeos in Gujarat used to call out to girls by the opening words "Tu tu tu...tu tu tara..." to which the girls used to retort with a rhyming "Tara karta kutra sara" (dogs are better than you are).

Cut to present day, it is no secret that the song "Give Me Some Sunshine" from 3 Idiots is a rage, especially among the college and the young office-going crowd. Hence, I wasn't surprised when I found this version of the song in my inbox the other day:

Give Me Some Sunshine - The Office Crowd version

Saari umr hum
Office mein mar gaye
Ek pal to ab humein jeene do...jeene do.

Give me a flight
Give me a train
Give me another chance
I wanna go home once again

Kandhon ko laptop
Ke bojh ne jhukaya
Client se jhoot bolna tho khud
Manager ne sikhaya

4.5 ya 5 rating laaoge to chhuti, varna kismat futi
Kaam kar kar ke pada ungaliyon pe
REVIEW, SCREEN aur REWORK ka chaala

Is Project ne to sala poora..
Poora bheja pakka daala

Career to gaya
Girlfriend bhi gayi
Ek pal to ab humein
Jeene do jeene do

Career to gaya
Girlfriend bhi gayi
Ek pal to ab humein
Jeene do jeene do

Saari umr hum
Office main jee liye
Ek pal to ab humein jeene do...jeene do

Perhaps encouraged by this, the Drunkards Anonymous Association of India have started forwarding the following as a 3 part SMS:

Give Me Some Sunshine - The Drunkard's Version

Saari umra ham
Mar mar ke ji liye
Ek glass to ab hame
Pine do... pine do.

Saari umra ham
Mar mar ke ji liye
Ek glass to ab hame
Pine do... pine do.

Give me some white wine

Give me some red

Give me another chance

I wanna get drunk once again.

Kandhon ko kitabon ke bojh ne jhukaya

Daaru pina to khud doston ne sikhaya

99% laoge to whisky

Warna beta yeh le desi

Pi-pi kar bana hatheli par whisky, rum, vodka ka chaala

Cocktail-Mocktail ne pura bachpan jala daala

Bachpan to gaya,

Item bhi gayi

Ek pal to ab hame

Pine do.. pine do

Saari umra ham
Mar mar ke ji liye
Ek glass to ab hame
Pine do... pine do.

Give me some white wine

Give me some red

Give me another chance

I wanna get drunk once again.

The roar at Eden

It is a very tough climb to the top… it is even tougher to stay there.

Ask the Indian cricket team; they did exactly that today.

What’s more, they almost faltered owing to one bearded gentleman who played a defiantly heroic knock.

To think that this thrilling Test series almost never happened… ~phew~

I was in office and even caught a couple of deliveries of the match on a colleague’s laptop who was watching it thanks to the wonders of wireless broadband technology. “Only 9 more overs to go in the day and Morkel and Amla don’t seem to be budging,” I told myself. Resigned, I returned to my desk.

A couple of minutes later, a whoop of joy was let out by the group which had crowded around that laptop. Even as I rushed with a grin towards them, I knew that Eden had once again worked its special brand of magic.

The sight of Harbhajan charging towards the stands like a warrior who has just won a battle will stick in my mind forever. He knows this ground reserves special love for him: the Eden crowd ooh-ed and aah-ed with every delivery of his that went past the edge of the bat or dropped just short of the man at forward short leg, they celebrated with the turbanned warrior with every wicket that he took. Bhajji knows how big a factor the crowd is at Eden and this was his moment of acknowledging his most vociferous teammates who sat in the stands.

Not to be forgotten is Laxman, the VVS in whose name Chappel says must stand for Very Very Special. 1000+ runs on a particular ground is no mean feat, but then, Laxman is no ordinary batsman and Eden isn’t any other ground. Ever since that Test match in 2001, Laxman has taken on the mantle of making this his home away from home, much like his fellow Hyderabadi Azhar did before him.

All those who fore-casted the death of Test match cricket... beware!! Test Matches have shown the sheer nail-biting excitement it is capable of delivering: first there was the England vs. South Africa series, then the Pakistan tour of Australia, and now, the roar at Eden Gardens.

What kind of a kid are you?

Rahat Fateh Ali Khan was crooning “Dil To Bachcha Hai Jee” on my laptop while I was speaking to Motee on the phone.

“How much of a kid am I?” I asked.

“Umm…”, followed by a slight pause. “You are a spoilt, tantrum throwing, nerdy, geeky kid !!”

:D

Strangely, I LOVE that description.

My blind date on Valentine's Day

I thought I'd quickly write about what has been happening in my life lately.

Well, not much has been happening in my life lately.

~ducks~ (Pardon the silly attempt at humour, but I'm really spaced out here.)

Oh !! Except for the fact that I happened to have an impromptu blind date with a charming lady on Valentine's Day (now that I'm sure has gotten the audience attention).

Before you fall off your chairs of surprise, let me tell you that the lady in question happens to be my 87 year old, 4 feet 5 inches tall neighbour who I happened to meet on Sunday evening. From the manner in which she spoke to me, it was pretty evident that she is pretty lonely and doesn't get much to speak in front of her children who, she tells me, consider her a pest. And so, when she realized she had in me a guy who patiently kept standing at his front door listening to her stories of how Calcutta was in 1941, she decided to make the most of it.

The old lady spoke non-stop for almost 20-25 minutes and she covered a range of topics and a timeline which was mind-boggling. Knowing that I was from Calcutta, she started by telling me that she too had spent her initial years in Cal.

She narrated stories of the terrible riots that blazed through the city soon after the partition of the country in 1947 as if it were just yesterday. Later, her family set up an achaar-chutney-paapad manufacturing unit in the city. Business prospered and she settled down into the regular Indian middle-class housewife routine of caring for her family.

A couple of decades down the line, one of her sons moved to Mumbai and she came along with his family. Some years later, this old lady travelled to America to assist one of her daughters who had married and settled there and was pregnant. The old lady told me how thankful she was for having been educated by her family in an era when education for the girl-child was more the exception than the norm (is it a norm today yet or am I just looking at my country through metropolitan-tinted-glasses?). This education came in handy when she went abroad and had to communicate with citizens of a country she had never ever met earlier.

She told me she had studied Sanskrit and literature when in college around the year 1941. She said she loves learning new things and given an opportunity would love to learn German and Spanish even today. Here, the conversation (I smiled and nodded politely right throughout) took a different turn and she started discussing Hindu mythology. And no, not Ramayan or Mahabharat, which I'm so fond of. She began at the beginning of time!! She started quoting from the Vishnu Purana about how the creation of the world came about and the significance of the Holy trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Mahesh.

On my part, it began simply as an exercise in being polite. To be honest, at the start I was only wondering when she would cease so that I could go back to the Domino's which I'd ordered and was getting colder by the minute lying on the dinner table. But then, something struck. I got completely engrossed in the old lady's life-story... it was like watching a small history of India unfolding right in front of my eyes.

Anyway, so much for a Valentine's Day blind date. ~grins~

The fun vids

A quick post on a couple of fundoo videos I stumbled across.

First of all, this really fun way to make more people take the stairs instead of an escalator. Watch as people hop, skip and jump (literally) over the stairs as it makes those piano sounds. Courtesy: Sayesha's blog.

Next, this awesome wedding dance tribute to Michael Jackson's Thriller. Loved the spontaneous and unannounced way in which the dancers begin.



The wedding dance obviously reminded me of this (don't remember having put this up over here). Like I commented on this video some time ago, if ever you decide to make a grand entrance to your own wedding, let it be an inspiration from this.

Ishqiya

Last night was a washout. Herbert and I met up looking for a watering hole. We were thinking Toto's but then decided on Adda near the Andheri Sports Complex. Only on reaching there did we realise that it was a dry day owing to Gandhiji's death anniversary.

We shrugged off our disappointment and went off to Juhu Beach. Over chanachur garam and a very very long walk, the two friends discussed life as it is now, the work scene and obviously, what life was like in Calcutta (Herbert told me of this funny anecdote about a friend of ours who once dodged Herbert's mom's mindful eye to play Holi even though he had fever and had just gulped down a Crocin). The long walk over, we settled for kala-khatta and then headed off to Shiv Sagar for paav-bhaji and masala dosa.

Today morning, caught up with Motee and the Apsara on the phone before heading off to Infiniti to catch up with the Panda and a couple of other folks for a showing of Ishqiya. It is a brilliant movie. Vishal Bhardwaj's films seem to have perfected the art-form where they excite the hardcore movie-buff as well as entertain the mango people. Ishqiya is as good as any Western you'll see. Full marks to debutant director Abhishek Chaubey. Naseeruddin Shah, Arshad Warsi and Vidya Balan are a treat to watch as they capture the look and feel of Uttar Pradesh not only in their costumes but also in their language. The three-way showdown at the climax of the film is as good as the one in Kaminey. I have already mentioned Ibn-E-Batuta and Dil To Bachcha Hai Jee earlier on the blog, but there's also this Rekha Bhardwaj number called Badi Dheere Jali which you must watch out for. Also, the use of old Hindi songs as pointers throughout the film are a treat.

The film was followed by lunch at Masala Mantar. Had a Caipiroska for the first time. Looks a lot like Mojito, but is different and ah! very refreshing. Good food, good conversation and also caught up on the first two sets of the finals of the Australian Open between Federer and Andy Murray. Federer was making Murray run to all parts of the court and the Panda couldn't help commenting that the match would be over in 3 sets (he turned out to be correct, after all).

Oh and yes, we went off to Landmark after the movie. I caught up on my monthly budget of a Batman graphic novel (Hush) and a Wodehouse (Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit). Also, stumbled upon a Rough Guide to the Lord of the Rings. Over at lunch, Kunal (the Panda's friend) told me to search YouTube for 'The Hunt for Gollum'.

True to Kunal's word, this is a brilliant film. All Lord Of The Rings fans would love this. It is so well made, you'll find it hard to believe that these are just amateurs who've made this movie without help from a big budget studio or any huge funding.

Three day break

Righto. That was pretty quick. As it turns out, three days turned out to be quite a short stint in Cal. (Must figure out a way to take a long chutti; haven’t taken one in 3 years since I joined this company and I think me system needs it… pretty soon!!)

Attended a rocking sangeet party at the Park Hotel followed the next evening by the wedding itself. Felt awesome to catch up with oldest of friends from school times. The fact that it was a hard-core Punju wedding wasn’t lost on anybody – the dulha atop the ghodi had the first swig from a bottle of whisky to kick-off the baraat celebrations! Fir kya tha? The bottle was handed from one eager baraati to another till we’d downed most of it neat. What’s more, I even found the answer to why for some unknown reason baraat-bands play “Yeh desh hai veer jawanon ka” on such occasions. Old friend Doc explained, “It takes a lot of courage to sit atop a ghodi and gallop towards what is inevitably going to be the end of your happy life.” Go figure.

I must admit, though, that I spent most of the time in Calcutta just catching up on sleep. Slept like a log on Sunday afternoon and also most of today. But that was a given. Last night, after the wedding, I headed off to Lambu’s place with Bulla and Budhau. God alone knows why Horse didn’t make it.

Lambu’s place in Salt Lake has now become special for me. Our gang has now spent quite a few merry hours there just doing the college-gang like thing; eat Maggi or order for pizza, have a beer or three (no, that wasn’t a typo) and generally just catch up on each other’s lives. Last evening was no different. Of course, all the neat whisky from the shaadi got to me and I dozed off at the first given opportunity (I’m sure these folks, especially Lambu, must’ve abused me to hell and back for being a spoilsport) but not before introducing Lambu & Budhau to the pleasures of The Big Bang Theory. This was the first time they saw a couple of episodes of the said sitcom, and I think we might have new followers. As for me, I was just very happy to have caught a glimpse of Penny after a long time!! ~evil grin~

By the way, I was on radio today evening!! A senior friend who knows a RJ in Mumbai messaged me that I must be ready to speak about a patriotic film that I really like. I said cool and promptly decided upon Lagaan (I was planning on saying how it was a non-violent version of patriotism and showed India’s unity in diversity beautifully in the rag-tag cricket team that Bhuwan put together). Only later in the evening did I find out that the RJ herself was going to speak about Lagaan!! Thank heavens I was prepared with a back-up plan and blurted out Border as my second favorite. When I did finally go live on air, the phone line was pretty noisy but I managed to strain and hear the RJ. I hope I sounded decent on live radio… don’t know whether it would match up to my “Hindustan Ki Awaaz” bit from Nirma though (I had done the voice over as “Hindustan Ki Awaz” in a spoof on Mughal-E-Azam that our juniors had done. The fact that it was my voice which had a slight baritone timbre had surprised all. Damn!! How I wish I could get my hands on a copy of that audio file).

Power of the Secret anyone?

Like I said on Twitter, blogged at 3 in the morning about Ishqiya and bumped into (from left) Abhishek Chaubey (director), the producer of Ishqiya and Arshad Warsi at the Mumbai airport.

@Nvavi on Twitter says he's gonna blog about Angelina Jolie tonight. All the best dude!! :D

Mixed Feelings

After a good 6 months away from home, I'm now just a couple of hours away from taking a flight to Calcutta. I return with a mixed bag of emotions. A childhood friend is about to embark on the grand adventure called marriage. On the other hand, my eldest maasi passed away yesterday and I don't know how to face Mom.

Still, I look forward to sharing in the joys and sorrows of near and dear ones and what better place than Calcutta, a city I shall always call home, no matter where life takes me.

Biscuit called today evening and it was a joy, like always, to speak to her. I love the fact that she's again involved with theatre, albeit in a little way, and living her passion from one Sunday to the next.

Biscuit reminds me of her so-called-sweetheart (ha ha ha) Herbert. It's been more than two weeks since I met him. I wish I could beat the fellow into a pulp. A couple of months ago when we went to Ahmedabad, Dipan bhai had given me a saree to give to Mom. I asked Herbert to keep it for me since I didn't have space in my bag then. The idiot has been forgetting to give it to me ever since. Hmph.

I have the Ibn-e-Batuta song from Ishqiya stuck in my head. Really started liking Dil to Bachha Hai Jee too, now that I've heard it a couple of times. I just love the music of Vishal Bharadwaj. It has this rustic "desh ki mitti" mahek to it which is just incredible. Of course, one can't forget the great Gulzar for bringing the tale of Ibn-e-Batuta to a whole new generation. From Kajra Re to Beedi Jalai Le to Ibn-e-Batuta. Wow!!

Have finally finished reading Volume 1 of the complete adventures of Feluda by Satyajit Ray (blame all those Batman graphic novels in the middle for the delay). I became a fan of Satyajit Ray's writings when I read "Indigo" way back in school. Feluda mysteries just confirm what a master story-teller Ray was. He wrote these detective stories & novels for a very young audience and hence (much to his chagrin, as he often confessed) had to leave out much violence or crimes of passion. If anything, the lack of such instruments only add a certain boyish charm to the stories. In any case, these characters and situations are so gripping that they very naturally attracted adults as well. Who could blame them? To share an example, if the story has the detective and his young assistant (who does the Watson bit by being the narrator of these tales) spending a night in a dak bungalow in a forest in the North Eastern part of the country, ruminating over the murder of an occupant the previous evening and suddenly they hear the roar of a Royal Bengal Tiger... boy, that makes for one good story!!

Coming back to the Batman graphic novels... they were freaking brilliant!! Having read a couple of these graphic novels now, it is so exciting to see the manner in which the tale is told by the artists. No doubt you have good story writers writing these gripping episodes, but so much goes into the art work and "showing" these to the reader. Batman punching the Joker can be shown from four different points of view (Batman's, the Joker's, a bystander's or a bird's eye view) but which one of these will have the maximum impact on the reader?

I have now read The Long Halloween, Dark Victory and Batman: Year One. Still have The Dark Knight Strikes Again to read. I have also been making visits to the Landmark at Infiniti Mall at Andheri in the hopes of getting my hands on The Killing Joke but have been returning empty-handed thus far. Must thank THE big fat Panda for all his recommendations on the graphic novels. Every time I'm in a conundrum as to which graphic novel to buy, I immediately call him and he is always glad to help.

I went to see Sherlock Holmes on the opening weekend with the Panda, a couple of his other friends and G&G (Granpa & Granma). Absolutely loved the movie (so much so that I went and watched it again last week). I told the Panda how thankful I was that there are hard-core "commercial" film makers like Tarantino, Guy Ritchie & Vishal Bharadwaj (there goes Ibn-e-Batuta in my head again) who have such a stylish way of making films. I thought Robert Downey Jr. was good and does justice to his role by not playing a version of Holmes as that which must be trapped inside the purists' head. But what I felt must also be applauded was Jude Law as Watson, an ex-army doctor who doesn't believe in holding back his punches. The action sequences were good, especially the boxing match where Holmes goes through visualizing exactly how he is going to floor his opponent and then proceeds to do so with precision. Rachel McAdams is good as the mischevious and cunning Irene Adler, but frankly, did her role have much to do beyond introducing the intriguing character of Professor Moriarty (who remains in the shadows in this film so that he may make a redux in the next installment)? Must also mention that I loved the background score by Hans Zimmer. I thought this guy was good in Batman Begins and bloody brilliant in The Dark Knight. Here again, he works his magic and brings a very English-Irish touch. Oh, and don't miss out on the Dubliners singing The Rocky Road to Dublin in the background of the aforementioned boxing match.

Okay, enough for now. Gotta scoot and pack my bags. It's already 3 in the morning and must leave house at 7:30. Be good, say your prayers and drink lotsa milk. Cheers!

Jai Shri Krishna Maasi

One distinctly gets the feeling that life is a bizarre on-the-edge journey.

I sometimes wonder whether we’re really awake during what we consider our “waking” hours. Or is it all just a dream, a clever elaborate illusion that we live in, and that we’re actually going to really just wake up and find out the truth when we at last close our eyes to shut out the chimera that surrounds us.

It must take courage, a lot of it, just to get up and take that next step forward. I salute every champion who does. I salute them because they aren’t super-heroes who’ve descended on earth and are a different being – they’re flesh and blood… like you and me.

Here I am, missing my aunt who passed away today afternoon. I hadn’t met her many times in the last couple of years, but yes, I was fond of her. Her passing away is a part of childhood gone which now I shall only cherish in my memories. My fondest memory will be that of her watering the tulsi plant on the terrace of her 2 storey dilapidated building in Bada Bazaar, a teeming market-place cum residential area in old Calcutta, while I ran about desperately, a 5 year old looking for a place to hide in order to win a game of hide and seek from maasi’s daughter. Maasi being the eldest of Mom’s sisters shared an almost mother-daughter relationship with Mom, so you can imagine the kind smile she gave me whenever I would touch her feet.

May God bless her soul and may She rest in peace.

Bas ek hi dua hai

Na poochiye kahaan kahaan khuda ka ghar bana diya

Jahaan woh yaad aa gaya wahi pe sar jhuka diya

Main khaali haath aaya aur khaali hath chal diya

Kisi ko maine kya diya, kisi se maine kya liya