“Kahin door jab din dhil jaye
Saanjh ki dulhan badan churaye
Chupke se aye”
Saanjh ki dulhan badan churaye
Chupke se aye”
A Picasso with a saintly halo of thick, pure white hair and unkempt beard walked the wet streets of London in the wee hours of morning. Cloaked in nothing but the mild drizzle and morning mist, he set his footsteps towards the east while clutching a slightly elongated paintbrush in one hand. He journeyed towards home…
He was finally free… free from the chains that bound his body… the chains of controversy, blasphemy and accusations which kept him from his mother; the mother he loved; the mother whose lap and tender arms he yearned for. The same mother whom he so fondly made the inspiration for his masterpieces and the same mother who brought this exile upon him. But now nothing of the past mattered. He was going home…
He passed the reporters and journalists hovering around the Royal Brompton Hospital, desperately trying to gather information to make the morning news. He saw his family, friends and fans, weeping silently, all come to pay homage. But oh how foolish are those who mourn! Do they not know? Even in the face of gloomy death, the candle of the soul still burns brightly. Death always walks with the ever burning, ever shining flame in her hand to allay the fears of her chosen mortals. And though she veils them in her dark, shadowy slumber, she brings with her the inextinguishable flame…her promise of eternal life. And the master walked towards the rising sun, the hope of a new day that showed the way home…
And with the final strokes of the slightly elongated brush, his painted creation came to life. He beheld before him, the magnificent flying steed that he drew so often as a child and now the last of his creation. He mounted it and felt the gust of wind as it spread out its golden brown wings as it galloped off and took to flight. The horse flew along his trodden path, besought with thorns and roses as he relived his memories once again. The colourful canvas of his life slowly faded away from view, outshone by a bright white light that now occupied his vision. And he saw beautiful hues of colour, much brighter than he had ever seen before. He was in heaven…he was home…
And in the blissful presence of the joyous, dancing colours he heard a silent prayer, ‘Husain, may your soul rest in peace….’
“Mere khayalon ke angan mein
Koi sapno ke deep jalaye
Deep jalaye
Kahin door jab din dhal jaye
Saanjh ki dulhan badan churaye
Chupke se aye”
Koi sapno ke deep jalaye
Deep jalaye
Kahin door jab din dhal jaye
Saanjh ki dulhan badan churaye
Chupke se aye”
- ‘Kahin door jab din dhal jaye’ from the movie, ‘Anand’