Ghalib...

I sit here, staring at nothing, listening to Jagjit sing Ghalib; 'Hazaron khwahishen aisi kay har khwahish pe dum nikley'. Nostalgia... I travel back in time...Papa and I staying up till four in the morning with 'Nuskha-e-Hamidia' of Diwan e Ghalib, reading, reciting our favourite verses, enjoying the magical words. How long ago WAS it? A good seventeen eighteen years ago I think. Things were different, I was different. So much I didn't know, so much I hadn't experienced. Such vitality, hope and eagerness. Ghalib had a completely different effect on me at that time. Tonight, as I sit here listening to 'Hazaron khwahishen aisi' repeatedly, it puts me in a melancholic mood; or was I already in that mood and opted for this particular ghazal to suit it? I don't know. I don't remember anymore. I just want to stay lost in the captivating verses. Sometimes you want to re-live your past, re-live your fantasies, cling onto even the tiniest shred of memories. It doesn't always give you peace; sometimes it just brings a bitter sweet feeling. But I don't really know what I feel anymore. Is it serenity or pain? Is my heart aching or is there just numbness? I don't know. I can't tell the difference anymore.
Yesterday I met the most persistent person at a friend's house who insisted I should sing. A couple of us were hanging out together to see off a friend who was leaving for Moscow. I tried getting out of it, I hadn't sung for years. I didn't remember anything, any songs anymore. Ghalib came to my rescue. I sang 'dil hi tou hai na sung-o- khisht'. It was as if nothing existed except for the mesmerising words. I couldn't see any faces. I don't know how to end this post. I still havn't recovered. Am I rediscovering Ghalib? Is that why his diwan has been travelling with me from room to room lately? Or do I just need his pensive words? Strange that I believe I can relate to what he felt while writing, just a little bit, or am I wrong? I don't seem to have an answer to anything tonight...