The Aandhi-Mausam of Longing – by Shailja Chandra

A reluctant afternoon of 1991, one major design assignment, hostel room and the much-loved cassette of Aandhi-Mausam unspooling bygone time, spaces, silences…

Some trees swaying like sufi dervish and clouds turning into shades of ebony. The pitter-patter of rain, trying in vain to douse the vibrant red flames of Gulmohar of the rear lane…

And this song performing an alchemy…

तेरे बिना ज़िन्दगी से कोई शिकवा तो नहीं

तेरे बिना ज़िन्दगी भी लेकिन ज़िन्दगी तो नहीं

My relationship with his words began springing since adolescent years. Gulzar. The name was synonymous with a rare elegance and eloquence of emotions, senses, sensibilities and sensations, which I wasn’t yet fully initiated to, but always fiercely drawn to.

That afternoon the raw poignancy of ‘तेरे बिना ज़िन्दगी से‘ landed in me with intensity. The kind that germinates in the mix-soil of a deep sense of loss and undying sense of belonging – nourished by the salty waters of eyes.

जी में आता है, तेरे दामन में, सर छुपा के हम

रोते रहें, रोते रहें

तेरी भी आँखों में, आंसुओं की नमीं तो नहीं

In this song, with uncomplicated words portraying intricate emotions and the highly awaited lines of Sanjeev Kumar and ‘Sir’ Suchitra Sen, Gulzar weaves a rich tapestry of pain and separation, like a skilful Julaaha of Libaas of relationships.

A rich tapestry with a fine needle of belongingness and girah of differences. With a strand of powerlessness and a thread of total surrender. With a stitch of desire for ever-lasting togetherness, and a cross-stitch of fragility of it all…

And carefully embroidered atop the tapestry is one silverwhite moon – the cosmic custodian of one wish: Grant eternity to this lone night of togetherness.

तुम जो कह दो तो आज की रात, चाँद डूबेगा नहीं

रात को रोक लो

रात की बात है, और ज़िन्दगी बाक़ी तो नहीं