He likes the literary value of this book. A book he purchased for Rs. 65 in a Book Fair. He enjoys the couplets and tries to derive meaning out of them. They are full of meanings, like the 3D figures wrapped in a single stanza.
He puts this treasure trove on one side of his pillow and goes into deep sleep. When he wakes up the book is not there. What’s it? He murmurs. He comes out in the courtyard. The book is in her hands. She is immersed in poetry. Now he is with lots of thought and without words.
She is polite still rustic, she is naive still confident. She suddenly finds a piece of paper inside the book. Her lips read:
sukoot-e-sham judai hua bahana mujhe
kisi ki yaad ne sikhla diya tarana mujhe
And asks, “Whose remembrance has taught you the anthem”? He answers, “This is the hymn of love, and my dear your memory has taught me this sacred song”. But he doesn’t utter a single word.
He puts this treasure trove on one side of his pillow and goes into deep sleep. When he wakes up the book is not there. What’s it? He murmurs. He comes out in the courtyard. The book is in her hands. She is immersed in poetry. Now he is with lots of thought and without words.
She is polite still rustic, she is naive still confident. She suddenly finds a piece of paper inside the book. Her lips read:
sukoot-e-sham judai hua bahana mujhe
kisi ki yaad ne sikhla diya tarana mujhe
And asks, “Whose remembrance has taught you the anthem”? He answers, “This is the hymn of love, and my dear your memory has taught me this sacred song”. But he doesn’t utter a single word.
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