آنے والا پل جانے والا ہے Aanewala Pal Janewala Hai — The Moment Coming Is the Moment Going

Gulzar

1934– living

Geet

A man rides a bicycle through the lanes of a middle-class Bombay, and the song he is singing is about the thing he is doing: passing. Every moment that arrives is already leaving, the song says, so if it can be done, live a life inside this one. It is the great song of the ordinary day, written by Gulzar for Hrishikesh Mukherjee's Gol Maal in 1979 and sung by Kishore Kumar.

Three passages ahead. The first announces the idea, and the next two test it with two small stories: a flower that came from nowhere and a drop of time that fell and disappeared. Both of them end with the same refrain. The moment is leaving. Spend yourself in it.

01 — aanewala pal janewala hai

آنے والا پل جانے والا ہے
ہو سکے تو اس میں زندگی بیتاؤ
پل جو یہ جانے والا ہے

आनेवाला पल जानेवाला है
हो सके तो इस में ज़िन्दगी बिताओ
पल जो ये जानेवाला है

aanewala pal janewala hai
ho sake toh is mein zindagi bitaao
pal jo ye janewala hai

The moment coming is the moment going. If it can be done, live a whole life inside this one. This moment, which is leaving.

The whole song in its first line, and the line works by giving the moment two verbs at once. Aana and jaana, coming and going, are the two ends of the same verb, and the song refuses to separate them. The advice that follows is the strangest part: zindagi bitaao, spend your entire life in the one moment. It is the song's definition of attention, and it is addressed to everyone and no one at once.

پل pal: a moment

02 — ek baar yun mili masoom si kali

ایک بار یوں ملی معصوم سی کلی
ہو کھلتی ہوئی کہاں خوشبو میں چلی
دیکھا تو یہیں ہے، ڈھونڈا تو نہیں ہے
پل جو یہ جانے والا ہے

एक बार यूँ मिली मासूम सी कली
हो खिलती हुई कहाँ ख़ुशबू में चली
देखा तो यहीं है, ढूँढा तो नहीं है
पल जो ये जानेवाला है

ek baar yun mili masoom si kali
ho khilti hui kahan khushbu mein chali
dekha toh yahin hai, dhoondha toh nahin hai
pal jo ye janewala hai

Once, just like that, I met an innocent bud. Where did it go, blooming, into the fragrance? When I looked, it was here. When I searched, it was not. This moment, which is leaving.

The bud is met by accident, yun, just like that, and lost the same way. The verse refuses to say what the bud was: a girl, a season, a chance. Khooshbu mein chali, she walked off into the fragrance, is the only departure report, and a fragrance is precisely the thing you cannot follow. The two half-lines, dekha toh yahin, dhoondha toh nahin, are the song's rhythm of presence and loss, and the refrain lands like the answer.

کلی kali: a flower bud

03 — ek baar waqt se lamha gira kahin

ایک بار وقت سے لمحہ گرا کہیں
وہاں داستاں ملی، لمحہ کہیں نہیں
تھوڑا سا ہنسا کے، تھوڑا سا رلا کے
پل یہ بھی جانے والا ہے

एक बार वक़्त से लम्हा गिरा कहीं
वहाँ दास्ताँ मिली, लम्हा कहीं नहीं
थोड़ा सा हँसाके, थोड़ा सा रुलाके
पल ये भी जानेवाला है

ek baar waqt se lamha gira kahin
vahan dastaan mili, lamha kahin nahin
thoda sa hansake, thoda sa rulaake
pal ye bhi janewala hai

Once a moment fell out of time, somewhere. Where it fell, I found a story, and no moment. After making me laugh a little and cry a little, this moment too is leaving.

The verse is the song's metaphysics in the smallest possible form. A lamha, a moment, drops out of time, and in its place the singer finds a dastaan, a story. The story is what a moment leaves behind when it is gone, which is also the definition of this song and every song. The last line gives the moment its human report card: a little laughter, a little weeping. The two are the song's unit of living, and the refrain closes over them the way time closes over everything.

لمحہ lamha: a moment, an instant
داستان dastaan: a long story, a tale

Reading it whole

The song is a piece of advice wearing the clothes of a lullaby. Aanewala pal janewala hai: the moment that comes is the moment that goes. Everything the song says after that is a way of not letting go of the moment, and the music, a gentle waltz, is the sound of time passing without alarm.

The first story is a flower. A blossom met the singer once, and before it could be asked where it came from, it had walked off into the fragrance. Dekha toh yahin hai, dhoondha toh nahin hai: when I looked it was here, when I searched it was not. The flower is the moment wearing a disguise, and the verse is the song's plainest statement that presence is not ownership.

The second story is stranger and truer. A moment once fell out of time, and where it fell the singer found a story, dastaan, and no moment. The drop of time had become narrative, and narrative is what is left when the moment itself has gone. The last line of that passage gives the drop its parting gift: it made you laugh a little and cry a little, and then it left. That is the song's whole account of what a moment does to a life.

The closing refrain, ho sake toh is mein zindagi bitaao, if it is possible, spend your life in this one, is the advice that keeps the song from being sad. The song is not telling you to hurry. It is telling you to stay. The one moment that is here is enough for a lifetime, if you do not spend it wanting the next one.

Recordings

Kishore Kumar

From Gol Maal (1979), composed by R. D. Burman. The film version from Gol Maal, with the bicycle ride it was written for.

Text and rights

Devanagari text supplied and checked by a reader who knows the language. The Urdu script and the transliteration follow that reading.

The song is from the film Gol Maal (1979), music R. D. Burman, lyrics Gulzar. The refrain returns between passages in the recording more often than it is printed here.

Gulzar is alive and the song is recent work. It is quoted here as the subject of Harf's own criticism: the translation, the reading of each passage and the essay around them are original work written for this page. If you hold the rights and would like something changed, tell us on Instagram.