Music Today: 28/07/2015

Woh Kagaz Ki Kashti: Jagjit & Chitra Singh

Releasing year: 1987

I’m not usually a ghazal sort of a person but whatever! This ghazal is a childhood memory of sorts. In Bhutan, I was the only child, and therefore the most pampered one. My father, I remember vaguely, used to come up from the office early just to spend quality time with me and my mother. All I remember from that time we spent together, a memory that stands out vividly that the rest blurry recollections is this ghazal. How this came about? A few years ago, this suddenly came on the radio and I started singing it reflexively. I was surprised about that. And then I remembered suddenly. I asked my mother. She told me that when we were in Bhutan, this was one of my father’s favorite ghazals and that he used to play this many times when he returned from the office.

Now, a few years down the line, I love this ghazal not just because of the memories it brings, but also the lyrics.

Ye daulat bhi le lo shohrat bhi le lo bhale chhin
Mujhse meri jawani magar mujhko lota de
Bachpan ka sawan
Woh kagaz ki kashti wo barish ka pani
Woh kagaz ki kashti wo barish ka pani

I am sharing a rough translation of the song paragraph wise so you can understand and appreciate it simultaneously. 

Do take my gold, and my fame, if you must
 You can have my youth if you so do will
 But do give me back my childhood showers
 My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

Do take my gold, and my fame, if you must
You can have my youth if you so do will
But do give me back my childhood showers
My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

She, who, lived here as old as the road
She, whom we children, called granny
She, who wrapped fairies in sweet songs
She, whose wrinkles of years so many
And who, try as much, could forget them
Her fresh long tales filling nights so tiny

My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

To walk out in the scorching heat
To larks and those jays and chasing butterflies
We’d marry our dolls and fight over it
High in our swings jumping far from watchful eyes
And those little trinkets of copper and bark
Those deep scarlet marks of broken bangles and cries

My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

To drag our feet over smooth high dunes
A castle here, a hillock there
Our innocence filling every picture and tune
Our life of toys and dreams
In a world of joy, relations none did prune
Wasn’t it beautiful, that life of ours?

My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

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