The song is about the moment a person is recognized, and the word it keeps returning to is kabil, worthy, able. The whole drama of being judged is in that word: somebody looked at you and the look carried a verdict. The heart is told to stop, thaher ja, because the search that the heartbeat was doing is over. The poem is a person accepting a sentence, and the sentence is happiness.
The second passage is surrender with the manners of the court kept in. Jee hamein manzoor hai, aapka yeh faisla: yes, we accept your decision. The plural is the politeness and also the two of them, heart and self, agreeing. And the thanks go where thanks go: banda-parvar is the cherisher of servants, one of the ninety-nine names of God, so the gratitude is addressed to the One who arranged it. The line manages to be both a prayer and a very good review of the beloved's taste.
The third passage does the swap that love poetry is built on. Your destination, I am. My destination, you are. The two of them have exchanged addresses, and the song then asks the natural question: why should I fear the storm now, my shore is you. Saahil is the shore, the landing place, and a person who has found their shore is immune to weather. The line even asks the storms themselves to be told: the shore is found, you are out of business.
The last passage is the wedding. Her shadow, parchhaiyan, has fallen over him, and the shehnais, the wedding horns, are striking up on every side. The song's final claim is the largest one it can make: the happiness of two worlds has come to me today. Do jahan, the two worlds, this one and the next, so the joy is being given a lifetime and then an afterlife. The song started with a heartbeat being told to stop and ends with the whole universe at the wedding.
Madan Mohan gave Lata one of her most loved melodies, and the film gave the song a context worth it. The Saregama reissue, taken from the original LP, is the recording everyone means.
