Baawra Mann

She'd had crazy days in her office, but that day pushed the boundaries of crazy to the point of crumbling. Traffic on the way back, was never more than a minor annoyance to her usually, even in its worst form. But that day, it drove her to the edge, where hearing one more angry honk would cause an aneurysm in her brain, she feared. As she entered her apartment, exasperated, exhausted, clinging to the dregs of her furiously leaking patience, she went straight to the music dock, plonked down her cell and fired up some music. And one by one as the notes poured out, the lines disappeared from her forehead.

However, not quite completely. For it was not the usual stressful day.

Music had to be complemented by the next best weapon in her arsenal – wine. She poured out a glass and took one mighty swig. “That hit the spot”, she smiled to herself, as she started feeling the medley of wine and music working their charm on her. She plopped down on her favorite couch, slipping out of her sandals, and as she strained her mind to lose herself deeper in the music, the song changed. The opening strumming of santoor, quickly brought recognition of the song. She closed her eyes to the sound of ankle bells, and had barely sung out in perfect sync -

" बावरा मन देखने चला एक सपना "

that she closed her eyes. And what she saw behind those veils, was nothing short of miraculous.

" बावरा मन देखने चला एक सपना "

She was in a land bathed in starlight. The clearness of the sky matched only that of the little bumbling brook she could see, just a few yards ahead of her. The full moon showed just a hint of orange, and even voices of the night had mellowed down to a soft whistle, with the tinkling of the brook, a random chirp here, a mild scurrying there. As she sat by the bank of the brook, in grass soft as velvet, she could feel her heart racing, her breath hurried, in gasps. Why, she couldn't understand.

" बावरे से मन की देखो बावरी है बातें,

बावरे से मन की देखो बावरी है बातें,

 बावरी सी धड़कनें हैं बावरी हैं साँसें "

She tried her best to soak in the tranquility which oozed out of everything in her surrounding. When conscious efforts gave up, she lied down, staring at the stars, hoping sleep would take over. Sadly, it too was cruelly evading her, as she tossed and turned, sometimes facing the happy brook, sometimes the joyously swaying trees.

" बावरी सी करवटों से निंदिया दूर भागे "

In defeat, she got back to her feet and started walking along the brook, seeing it carry along queer things. A broken TV remote. An azure blue comforter. A burnt cocktail dress. A diamond ring. Each passing thing had the signs of being used, possessed even. And as she walked along, looking on in confusion and wonder, she suddenly came across a giant tree which had fallen over the brook, bringing together the two banks. And lurking by the other end on the far side of the bank was a figure. Then she felt a tug, alien yet familiar, unsettling yet calming, and as she edged on closer to see more clearly, suddenly, as if on some divine cue, the figure took a definite shape of a man. Of him. And as it turned, as he turned, she saw his face, once again bathed in starlight.

" बावरे से नैन चाहें बावरे झरखों से बावरे नज़ारों को तकना

बावरा मन देखने चला एक सपना "

She couldn't believe her eyes and thought it to be an illusion. However, her racing heart, gasping breath, those things in the brook, the tug she felt, the stars, the moon, the trees, the tumultuous tranquility – all begged to differ. She stepped over the tree, started walking towards him, and in sync, he started to move towards her too. Careful steps, she said to herself, this moment was too delicate to be rash. And as she got midway, they met. Her downcast eyes noticed his ragged shoes first. He never cared for appearances much. And so as her eyes went through the journey up, they saw his faded jeans, that loose shirt, his stubble-d chin, benign smile and then his eyes. Lightening blue. Clear. Striking. Penetrating. Endearing. Inviting. And carefully held out to her was his hand. She was apprehensive still, of this apparition, for what else could it be? But as she held his hand, she felt the warmth which resonated with her core. This was no apparition, no trickery. They were together again. She was whole again.

" बावरे से इस जहान में बावरा एक साथ हो

 इस सयानी भीड़ में बस हाथों में तेरा हाथ हो "

She rested her head on his chest and then suddenly all the voices, all the sounds, which were tranquil yet unnerving her, now fell in harmony with their heartbeats and breathing, and from their coherence, divine music was borne. This music shook her entire being to life, and this demanded more than just a listening. This music demanded to be swayed along to, to be lost in to. And so they lost themselves, immersed in it, and began waltzing. It was precarious, and precious. No missteps.

" बावरी सी धुन हो कोई बावरा एक राग हो

बावरी सी धुन हो कोई बावरा एक राग हो

बावरे से पैर चाहें बावरे तरानों पे बावरे से बोल पे थिरकना

बावरा मन देखने चला एक सपना "

They could have gone on till infinity and still wouldn't have had their fill, but that wasn't going to be. The voices, the sounds, the music faded out to a sweeter, better still – silence. The change frightened her, and as she frantically took a look around, she saw the starlight fading. Stone cold dread had almost pierced her heart when she saw a glow out of the corner of her eyes. As she turned her head she saw it first emanating from him, or rather from where his heart was. In happiness she looked up at him and saw his eyes motioning her to look down on her own self. Following his gaze, she saw the same glow emanating from her heart. A pale golden glow from their hearts, in stark contrast to the silvery surroundings. Yet in harmony, in coherence, perfect. Urges inside her, about which she had long forgotten, begun rearing their head for the first time in years. She was giddy with happiness, with desire.

" बावरा सा हो अँधेरा बावरी खामोशियाँ

बावरा सा हो अँधेरा बावरी खामोशियाँ

थरथराती लौ हो मद्धम बावरी मदहोशियाँ "

It seemed as if ages passed as she looked into his eyes, and he into hers. Or moments. One couldn't gauge time here. As if time didn't seem to matter anymore. The longing in her was reflected in him. As he stroked a loose strand of her hair back, she blushed and then finally giving up all resistance, moved in, slowly, steadily towards him. So did he towards her. And just before their lips were to meet, they whispered in unison – I love you. Then, the inevtiable. All doubts, apprehensions, fears, sadness, loneliness, angst, and every other negative feeling known to her left her body, her spirit. Nothing held her back.

" बावरा एक घूंघटा चाहे हौले हौले बिन बताये बावरे से मुख से सरकना "

With a jerk she opened up her eyes and found herself back in her appartment. Apparently her fatigue had got the best of her, and coupled with wine had dragged her to a short slumber. Short, because the song was still the same. As she looked up towards the music dock, her eyes went up above them, gazing on to the wall behind, which had his portrait. She kept down her glass, and went up to it. She caressed his larger than life face, and then saw the flowers, his favorite flowers, had wilted in the vase. She gathered them in a bunch and threw them, coming back to look at the empty vase and then to the portrait, his face. She let the tears flow today, as she said to him, “Stop caring for me so much”.

" बावरा मन देखने चला एक सपना "