Shiv Kumar Batalvi's - "BuDHa Ghar - The Old House" (Presentation - Desh Ratna)

BuDHa Ghar Hae chir hoiya, Mera aapa mere saNg rus ke Kite Tur gaya hae, Te mere kol mera Sakhana kalboot baaki hae, Te mere ghar di har deevaar te CHaayi udaasi hae, Hae chir hoiya Mera aapa mere saNg rus ke Kite Tur gaya hae, Te mera ghar ohde Tur jaan piCHoN Jhur reha hae. O aksar bahut DooNghi raat gaye hi Ghar paratda si, Te sooraj huNdiyaaN o Ghar diyaaN bhitaaN toN Darda si, O kehRe hiran laNge kar riha si Kujh na dasda si, Te din bhar aapne ParCHaaviyaaN piCHe nhasda si. Maenu ohdi devdaasi bhaTkana Aksar DaraaNdi si, Te uhdi aakh di vahisht JiveN sheeshe nu khaaNdi si, Te ohdi chup BuDHe ghar de hun jaale hilaaNdi si. MaeN ik din chup vich Uhnu ghar diyaaN kaNdhaaN dikha baiTHa, O dhup vich roNdiyaaN kaNdhaaN di gahl Seene nu la baiTHa. MaeN aeveN bhul kaNdhaaN di gahl Usnu suna baiTHa Te uhda saath kaNdhaaN toN, Hamesha lai gava baiTHa. O ghar CHaDan toN pehlaaN us din, Har khooNje vich phiriya, Te ghar vich khaNg raheeyaaN Beemaar sab iTaaN de galeeN miliya, Te us manhoos din piCHoN Kade o ghar naheeN MuRiya. Hun jad vi rail di paTaRi te koi Khudkashi kar da e, JaaN Tola bhikshuaaN da Sir munaaee shehar vich chalda ae, JaaN naksalbaaReeya koi Kise nu katal jad karda ae, Te mere ghar diyaaN kaNdhaaN nu Us pal taap aa chaRda ae. Te buDHe ghar diyaaN Beemaar iTaaN da badan THarda ae. Eh buDHe ghar diyaaN Beemaar iTaaN nu bharosa hae, O jithe vi hae jehRe haal vich hae O bedosh hae, Uhnu ghar te naheeN Ghar diyaaN kaNdhaaN te rosa hae. Hae chir hoiya Mera aapa mere saNg rus ke Kite door Tur gaya hae Te mere kol mera sakhana kalboot Baaki hae, Jo buDHe ghar diyaaN Hun mar rahiyaaN kaNdhaaN da saathi hae.

BuDHa Ghar - The Old House It has been a while Since my self became displeased with me And left. What remains with me Is just an empty shell And every wall of my home, Is overcast with sadness. It has been a while Since my self became displeased with me And left. And my home, since his departure Is grieving. He often returned home Very late into the night. As soon as the sun rose, He would become fearful of the crevices in the walls. What thoughts leaped across his mind He would never say, But all day long He chased his shadow. This fruitless wandering of his Often scared me. The wildness in his eyes Almost ate into the mirror And the cobwebs in that old house Stirred in this silence. One day, during such a silence I showed him the walls of the house. The thought of those walls weeping in the sunlight Struck him deeply. I spoke to him about the walls without thinking, Because I lost for evermore His association with these walls. Before he left the house that day He walked through every inch of it, He embraced every coughing, Ailing brick in the house. And since that ill-omened day He never once returned home. Now whenever someone kills himself Across a railroad, Or a group of monks with shaven head Walks through the town, Or a Naxalite Slays somebody - The walls of my home Become feverish. The ailing bricks of this old house Shiver. The ailing bricks of this old house Have faith That wherever he is, in whatever condition He is blameless. He is not displeased with the house, He is just displeased with the walls of the house. It has been a while Since my self became displeased with me And left. What remains with me Is an empty shell, That is the companion Of the dying walls of this old house.