We sang for you — for a change.
This morning at the Sarobar.
Beginning with Allah tero naam.
Then Naa jeyo naa.
Then Lag jaa gale.
Rahein na rahein hum.
Piya tose.
And others. Ending with Ai mere watan ke logo.
We were just a few.
We took kalaam printouts.
We read the words.
Emphasised the huroof. Sang from deep within.
Singing for you, we said.
Nobody said wah wah, kya gaaya.
But.
One Sarobar walker stopped and joined us.
'A yogi, engaged in anulom-vilom, dropped his fingers halfway and meditated' MUDAR PATHERYA
Another doing his press-ups did not rise but eased into restfulness after the fourth.
Rowers came close to where we were sitting, lifted their oars and glided lazily for seconds.
The lady walking purposefully said “Wait a sec” to her husband and stayed till the end.
A yogi, engaged in anulom-vilom, dropped his fingers halfway and meditated.
A lady who was a part of our audience closed her eyes and rocked gently.
The surgeon who harmonium-ed for us shook his head in a gentle parabola as if he had just learned something new.
'The lady with a DSLR to shoot birds capped her equipment and sat down' MUDAR PATHERYA
The lady with a DSLR to shoot birds capped her equipment and sat down.
The stranger who chanced by sat on the carpet and asked “Gaaitey paari?”
The result: Schedules were interrupted, agendas disturbed and focus distracted.
At the end, someone said something crazy.
“Can we have this for the whole day?”
