Dard vichore da haal

I come with another of those mother-songs I spoke of a while ago. Who do I tell, mother, the pain this separation brings? It feels odd sometimes to be experiencing the biggest upheaval of my life and not have my mother to discuss it with. Never is a harsh word.

Shah Hussain's kafi, of course, talks of a different separation. A desperate search. The Master is veiled, he is not easily attained but he is there, elusive, just beyond the reach.

O mother, who do I tell,
the pain this separation brings

माये नी मैं किन्नू आखां,
दर्द विछोरे दा हाल नी

धुआं थुखे मेरे मुर्शिद वाला,
जान फूलाँ ताँ लाल नी

सूलां मार दीवानी कीती,
बिर्हौं पेय साढ़े खयाली

दुखां दी रोटी, सूलाँ दा सालन,
आहें दा बालन बाल नी

जंगल बैले फिरां ढूँडैंदी
अजय न पायो लाल नि

रान्झां रान्झां फिराँ ढूँडैंदी,
रान्झां मेरे नाल नी

कहे हुसैन फकीर निमाणा,
शाह मिले तान थीवन निहाल


maye ni main kinnu aakhaan,
dard vichore da haal ni

O mother, who do I tell,
the pain this separation brings

dhuan thukhay mere murshid wala,
jaan phoulaan taan laal ni

My Master’s fire spits and smoulders
Red hot, everywhere I blow

soolan mar diwani keeti,
birhoun peya saday khayali

Driven mad with spikes,
Pain of separation fills my thoughts

dukhan di roti, soolaan da saalan,
aahen da baalan baal ve

The bread of sadness, the sauce of spikes,
The fire made up of laments and sighs

jungle bailay phiran mai dhoondaindi
ajay na paayo laal ni

I wandered jungles and deserts, searching
But found not the ruby

ranjhan ranjhan phiraan dhoudaindi,
ranjhan mairay nal

I wander seeking ‘Ranjha Ranjha’,
But Ranjha is with me

kahay hussain faqeer nimanaa,
shoh milay taan theevan nihaal

Says Hussain, the poor faqeer,
Meeting the Master would be ecstasy


Here are two versions of the song. The first, a traditional rendition by Hamid Ali Bela:



And this captivating more recent interpretation by Atif Aslam: