"... na kahin chanda, na kahin taare... jyot ke pyaase mere, nain bechaare... tarapat, tasasat, umar gawayi... poocho na kaise maine rain bitayi..." An old melody. The twilight hour. Strong, bold notes. An older voice. On his evening walk, he passes the gazebo in the park marked Senior Citizens Area, he cannot help but stop a moment and listen as the elderly man finishes his rendition of the timeless Mohd. Rafi melody. As soon as he is finished, there is a smattering of applause and smiles and nostalgia all around. He finds a smile spreading across his face automatically. He knows this song. He has heard it on Vividh Bharati several times as a child, when his own father, who now would be close to the singer's age, would put on the radio in the mornings and late in the nights. The old man doesn't sound like a trained singer, more like an enthusiast; but his wonderfully clear voice rings out in the failing light making the evening mesmerising, ma...
Seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary