ये तेरा घर, ये मेरा घर

ये तेरा घर, ये मेरा घर
किसी को देखना हो 'गर
तो पहले आके मांग ले
तेरी नज़र मेरी नज़र

And you think it was easy for me to meet you those days? I still remember it was raining cats and dogs. Dad wasn't home. Just me and mum. Whenever it used to rain, Amrita Pritam's soul would come and make home in my body. I was no less than a boring being, peeping out of the window, writing shayris, until I got your SMS that you wanna meet. Now, a home girl instantaneously wanted to go out. I was twirling dadaji's supple Malacca cane, planning how to go out. Until the landline phone rang in it's unpleasant sound.

My aunt wanted my mother at the hospital and now I could not stop blessing her for this! Mum asked me standing at the edge of the gate to switch off the gas after boiling the milk. I kept standing at the gate, staring at her from the back until she disappeared from my eyes. I ran to the kitchen, boiled the milk and packed your favourite besan ke ladoo in a tiffin box. I made a messy bun of my wet hair, smelling real bad, fixed my saree's plates and ran towards the old eatery which was just a few steps away from my house.

You were there listening to our favorite song.
ये ईंट पत्थरों का घर and I went, "हमारी हसरतों का घर!"  It was raining, it was you, it was this song and it was our "adrak wali chai". It was home, it was heaven. The Amrita in me awoke again. And your "Ahhaa!", after every bite of besan ka ladoo and my shayri was all I wanted those days. You snatched my diary from me and read all the embarrassing entries, I had written o'er there hiding from everyone and laughed at me for keeping such sad moments.
And how you sang my favourite line,

हमारे घर न आएगी, कभी खुशी उधर की
हमारी हसरतों का घर, हमारी राहतों का घर!