Amir Saleem

December 1993. Rawalpindi. Pakistan.

Spotless morning sunshine rolled through the rain ridden streets. The after rain affects are pouring from the leaky tin roof of the bus stop as I walk through it making my way through all the people taking refuge in that little hut. As the chilly wind blows across, some drifted away drops of rain that stayed anonymously hung in the misty air, splatter on my face.

The cars going by slowly; the smell of fresh baked corn as a man bakes them on the side walk of the Liaqat Bagh Chowk, a nine year old boy carrying a gigantic bag on his shoulder unwilling going towards Islamia School; and those two girls appearing from the far corner of the street, walking towards me with that sheepish smile and a creepy glance at me as they pass by at the same time everyday.
As I take the left turn from Liaqat Bagh, towards Gordon College, a van passes by. A song. Bin Terey Kuch Bhi Nahin Hai Jeewan Mera. It clings to my tongue and I start singing along. It remains in my voice all day long, all week long. I sing and hum, rain or sunshine. I, who absolutely despises sunshine, all of a sudden found that warmth pleasent. Someone in my mind, a smile, a song, and winter sunshine.

April, 2007. Dubai. UAE.
I had forgotten that song. I even forgot that I ever remembered it, that I ever sang it, that there ever was a sunshine which I liked. Out of pure accident, I ran across this song again.

It has just stopped raining, the roads are wet again, and I am singing this song all over again. 
(And of course it is sung by the one and only Udit Narayan.) … (Click here to download the song.)