دھیرے دھیرے سے Dheere Dheere Se — Slowly, Slowly

Majrooh Sultanpuri

1919– 2000

Geet

Someone is being asked to come in slowly. The request is made three times in the first two lines, and every time the verb gets gentler: come into my life slowly, steal my heart slowly. The song is a love song built entirely on the word dheere, slowly, and on everything that word protects.

Majrooh Sultanpuri wrote it for Mahesh Bhatt's Aashiqui in 1990, the film that began the Bhatt house style of intimate songs. Three passages ahead. The second is the confession of what has already happened, and it turns out the slow entrance has already been completed.

01 — dheere dheere se meri zindagi mein aana

دھیرے دھیرے سے میری زندگی میں آنا
دھیرے دھیرے سے دل کو چرانا
تم سے پیار ہمیں ہے کتنا جانِ جاناں
تم سے مل کر تمکو ہے بتانا

धीरे धीरे से मेरी ज़िन्दगी में आना
धीरे धीरे से दिल को चुराना
तुमसे प्यार हमें है कितना जान-ए-जाना
तुमसे मिलकर तुमको है बताना

dheere dheere se meri zindagi mein aana
dheere dheere se dil ko churaana
tum se pyaar hamein hai kitna jaan-e-jaana
tum se milkar tumko hai bataana

Come into my life slowly, slowly. Steal the heart slowly, slowly. How much we love you, life of my life, I have to tell you after meeting you.

The passage does its work in the doubling. Dheere dheere, the doubled adverb, slows the song itself down, and the second line pairs the slow entrance with the slow theft, churaana. The address jaan-e-jaana, life of my life, is the classical name of the beloved, and the last line contains the song's whole plot: the telling can only happen after the meeting, and the meeting is what the slowness is protecting.

جان جاناں jaan-e-jaana: life of my life

02 — jab se tujhe dekha dil ko kahin aaraam nahin

جب سے تجھے دیکھا دل کو کہیں آرام نہیں
میرے ہونٹوں پہ ایک تیرے سوا کوئی نام نہیں
اپنا بھی حال تمہارے جیسا ہے ساجن
بس یاد تجھے کرتے ہیں اور کوئی کام نہیں
بن گیا ہوں میں تیرا دیوانہ
دھیرے دھیرے سے دل کو چرانا

जबसे तुझे देखा दिल को कहीं आराम नहीं
मेरे होठों पे एक तेरे सिवा कोई नाम नहीं
अपना भी हाल तुम्हारे जैसा है साजन
बस याद तुझे करते हैं और कोई काम नहीं
बन गया हूँ मैं तेरा दीवाना
धीरे धीरे से दिल को चुराना

jab se tujhe dekha dil ko kahin aaraam nahin
mere hothon pe ek tere siva koi naam nahin
apna bhi haal tumhaare jaisa hai sajan
bas yaad tujhe karte hain aur koi kaam nahin
ban gaya hoon main tera deewana
dheere dheere se dil ko churaana

Since I saw you, there is no rest for the heart anywhere. On my lips there is no name except yours. My condition is just like yours, saajan: I do nothing but remember you, and there is no other work. I have become your madman. Steal the heart slowly, slowly.

The passage reports the completed theft while the refrain keeps asking for it to happen slowly. The two signs of the condition are the heart without rest and the lips with a single name, and the third line is the song's quiet genius: the lover admits the pursued is in the same state. Sajan, the beloved, is told her own condition back. The last line announces the transformation into deewana, the madman, and the refrain returns like a reassurance that none of this happened in a hurry.

سجن sajan: the beloved, the one you love

03 — tune bhi aksar mujhko jagaaya raaton mein

تو نے بھی اکثر مجھکو جگایا راتوں میں
اور نیند چرائی میٹھی میٹھی باتوں میں
تو نے بھی بے شک مجھکو کتنا تڑپایا
پھر بھی تیری ہر ایک ادا پہ پیار آیا
آجا آجا اب کیسا شرمانا
دھیرے دھیرے سے دل کو چرانا

तूने भी अक्सर मुझको जगाया रातों में
और नींद चुराई मीठी मीठी बातों में
तूने भी बेशक़ मुझको कितना तड़पाया
फिर भी तेरी हर एक अदा पे प्यार आया
आजा आजा अब कैसा शर्माना
धीरे धीरे से दिल को चुराना

tune bhi aksar mujhko jagaaya raaton mein
aur neend churaayi meethi meethi baaton mein
tune bhi beshak mujhko kitna tarpaya
phir bhi teri har ek ada pe pyaar aaya
aaja aaja ab kaisa sharmaana
dheere dheere se dil ko churaana

You too have often woken me in the nights, and stolen my sleep with sweet sweet talk. You too, no doubt, have tormented me so much. And still I fell in love with every one of your ways. Come, come now, what is there to be shy about? Steal the heart slowly, slowly.

The passage turns the beloved into a co-conspirator. The waking at night and the stolen sleep are listed as evidence, tarpayaa, the torment, included, and the verdict follows in the same breath: phir bhi, and still, love happened on every ada, every way she has. The song has been building the slow approach all along, and the last couplet is where the slowness ends: aaja aaja, come now, what is there left to be shy about. The refrain returns after the request, which is the song's way of keeping its own pace even at the door.

تڑپانا tarpana: to make somebody writhe with longing
ادا ada: a manner, a way of carrying oneself

Reading it whole

The song is an instruction manual for the thing it is doing. Dheere dheere se, slowly slowly, is the adverb of the whole tradition of courtship, and Majrooh builds an entire song out of refusing to hurry. The request is not for love. It is for the pace of love, which is the only part of it that can be chosen.

The middle passage is the report on the damage, and the damage is total and happy. No peace anywhere, no name on the lips but hers. The confession in the third and fourth lines is the song's best move: apna bhi haal tumhaare jaisa hai saajan, my condition is just like yours, saajan. The pursuer and the pursued are in the same state, which is what the slow approach has achieved.

The last passage turns the tables and owns it. She has woken him at night, stolen his sleep with sweet talk, tormented him, and he thanks her for every bit of it. The final line, aaja aaja ab kaisa sharmaana, come now, what is there to be shy about, is the song's whole strategy in one sentence: the slowness was always leading somewhere.

Kumar Sanu's voice made the song one of the defining recordings of the Nineties, and it has been remade since, which is the fate of a song whose advice is as portable as its tune.

Recordings

Kumar Sanu and Anuradha Paudwal

From Aashiqui (1990), composed by Nadeem-Shravan.

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 Aashiqui (1990), music Nadeem-Shravan, lyrics Majrooh Sultanpuri. The refrain returns between passages in the recording more often than it is printed here.

Majrooh Sultanpuri died in 2000, so this poem is still in copyright. 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.