Door chaahat se mei'n apni chalta
raha
Khamakha bewajah khwaab bunta raha.
The accent was
perfect. The pitch a bit too high. The guitar was a faithful
complement. Such sweet music floated through the air of the summer
night to please my ears. Life had not been happening. Nothing
much to do. Studies. Social Media. Stuck up friendship. Illusions of
success. Realities of failure. As I type this, the man next door,
Ayan, restarts his song. The notes went wrong somewhere in the
middle. And it was a difficult turn to take. And he starts again,
this time, making a much better attempt.
Ye ho'nsla kaise jhuke,
Ye aarzoo kaise ruke
Manzil mushkil to kya,
Dhundhla saahil to kya,
Tanhaa ye dil to kya...
His next song is a
masterpiece from Shafqat Amanat Ali. The composition is engaging. The
words are inspiring. For a moment, the smoothness of his voice
compells me to think over the life again and again. Inspirational
thoughts start to rush in, when suddenly he fumbled over the high
pitch of the song. Ali's voice is too sharp and trained for the song.
He tries again to reach the level, fails, again, fails. This time, he
starts with a couple of notes lower than the earlier one. He manages
to sway through the composition with ease.
Udta hua wo aasmaa'n se Jakar gira
zamee'n par,
Aankho'n mei'n phir bhi baadal hi
thhe wo kehta raha magar...
Kailash Kher's
voice echoed in the brain as Ayan played the very beautiful song. He
was trying to take similar notes as the original version, and his
vocal chords managed to do that for some extent. Only his guitar went
a little off stream. But he does not stop. Instead continues and
plays the later part flawlessly.
Kisi ki muskurahato'n pe ho nisaar,
Kisi ka dark mil sake to le udhaar,
Kisi ke vaaste ho tere dil mei'n
pyaar,
Jeena isi ka naam hai...
The old classic by
Mukesh has been one of my favourites. I find myself listening to Ayan
with more concentration and fail to engage in the assignment I was
typing earlier. The song stands for the meaningful lyrics that
Bollywood produced in the 80s. The singing was swift and pleasant
when suddenly my room-mate started singing a Bollywood number in his
loud voice. Only if he was not wearing those earphones would he
realize that he should stop singing. Probably, this harshness was
reality. Well, I could restart with my assignment. And Reality.
P.S Ayan sings
really well. And my room-mate sings really bad.
