Kahan tum chale gaye...

The first time I heard Jagjit Singh was in 1996, not long after I had lost the person who was the guiding light in my life. A “neighbour-friend” gave me an audio cassette and asked me to listen to his songs. I must have been 11 or 12 and music still meant rock and Bollywood for me. I took the cassette, heard him for the first time and put it away for the next few years.

Life picked up its pace and I too decided to move on despite that constant ache in my heart. Crying was not an option and putting up a brave face was the best I could do for my siblings and mum. On a chilly winter's day more than two year's later, I rediscovered the cassette in my cupboard and decided to play it rather unsuccessfully. Full with guilt for neglecting a gift for so long, I decided to buy a new one. I saved for a few weeks to buy the latest collection of his songs. Tears rolled down my cheeks as his soulful voice started echoing in my tiny room. The song was chitthi na joi sandesh…

I remember crying for hours after listening to the song and it became a routine for the years to come. Songs like Hazaro Khwahishen Aisi and Bat Niklegi became favourites. My friends did not like the idea of listening to Jagjit Singh in the era of metal. Punk was also making a comeback during those days. I don’t blame them because you cannot associate yourself with his songs without strong emotions.

My habit of listening to gazals took a backseat as I got busier in life, but the love for his music remained in my heart and mind. I still seek refuge in his songs whenever life throws beautiful and not-so-beautiful surprises at me. The news of his death is more shocking for me because I will never be able to see him in person. I will never get a chance to say thank you to him for showing me light at the end of the tunnel, for letting me cry, for making me comfortable, for making me believe that things will be all right.

Only two months ago he was performing in Delhi and I could have gone. Instead I left it for another day. I am feeling very sad, but his songs have come to my rescue once again. Even in his death he ended up teaching me a lesson. Never leave a moment, never wait for things you want to do because there may not be any tomorrow…

Chitthi na koi sandesh is playing as I write this with watery eyes. Thank you sir…