Manna Dey

(1919 to 2013)

lyrics by Kapil Kumar

Phir kahin koi phool khila, chaahat na kaho usko
Phir kahin koi deep jala, manzil na kaho usko
Phir kahin…
Man ka samandar pyaasa hua, kyun kisi se maange duaa 
Lehron ka laga jo mela, toofaan na kaho usko
Phir kahin koi phool khila...

Dekhe kyun sab woh sapne, khud hi sajaaye jo humne
Dil unse bahel jaaye to, raahat na kaho usko
Phir kahin koi phool khila…

This is my version, heartfelt and inspired by the original, that has haunted and haunts me.

Don’t be a fool, you are plain pathetic: 

every time a flower blooms, 

here, there, somewhere, 

you think it is love, 

that you are in love, 

while actually 

you have only fallen. 

A light twinkles here, 

shines, glitters there. 

Beware. 

Do not assume that

that is your repose, 

the end of your journey, 

fulfillment.

The swirling, twirling 

at the pit of your heart, 

hurting like an emptied ocean, 

cannot find succour by going begging.

It would be perilous 

to assume that the gathering 

of waves upon waves 

is a storm

Where is the fulfillment

in living by watching dreams 

conjured and carved 

out of vacuum of emptiness. 

Fool, do not be seduced by comfort, 

even if dreams create ecstasies 

of satiation in your mind.

A flower may bloom again, you fool.

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Anonymous wrote:

Reading through this composition is like walking through a pile of fallen leaves with a twig in hand and turning them and flinging them about... a pile of thoughts disembodied from the experiences that generated them merging and mingling with thoughts from countless other experiences, long gone with seasons past.

But instead of letting the thoughts blow away too, the mind holds them captive, perhaps in the vain hope of being able to reconstruct in memory that which will not return in reality. 

Many flowers will bloom. Again and again. Yet fools will pine for the ones that have fallen and will bloom no more.  

As for the singer, no tribute can suffice but here are some words you sent me when he passed away:

Incredible range and trained voice, widest variety of rendition, classically sublime to ridiculously funny,traversing effortlessly various octaves and falsettoes; not even half got his full due, a rare good man.

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Pravin Gandhi wrote:

Nice. Both.

My reply:

Thanks Pravin: Both came from the cardiac region of the brain, which habitually infarcs.

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