Harf
Script shown with the Urdu

نادان پرندے Nadaan Parinde — Innocent Bird

Irshad Kamil

1971– living

Geet

Somebody is calling a bird home. O innocent bird, come home, the song begins, and the bird is a soul: why do you wander through foreign lands, worn out, defeated, a traveller of the night? The song is a homecoming song in the oldest Sufi register, and the home it names is inside the bird itself.

Irshad Kamil wrote it for Rockstar in 2011, and Mohit Chauhan sang it. Three passages ahead. The last one is a quotation from the folk tradition, and it turns the whole song toward the beloved who is waiting.

01  — o nadaan parinde ghar aaja

او نادان پرندے گھر آجا
گھر آجا گھر آجا گھر آجا
کیوں دیش بیدیش پھرے مارا
کیوں ہال بے حال تھکا ہارا
تو رات بھرات کا بنجارا
او نادان پرندے گھر آجا
گھر آجا گھر آجا گھر آجا

ओ नादान परिंदे घर आजा
घर आजा घर आजा घर आजा
क्यूँ देश बिदेश फिरे मारा
क्यूँ हाल बेहाल थका हारा
तू रात बिरात का बंजारा
ओ नादान परिंदे घर आजा
घर आजा घर आजा घर आजा

o nadaan parinde ghar aaja
ghar aaja ghar aaja ghar aaja
kyun desh bidesh phire maara
kyun haal behaal thaka haara
tu raat biraat ka banjaara
o nadaan parinde ghar aaja
ghar aaja ghar aaja ghar aaja

Oh innocent bird, come home. Come home, come home, come home. Why do you wander through lands foreign and familiar, beaten? Why are you worn out, defeated? You are the wanderer of the night and its hours. Oh innocent bird, come home.

The passage is the song's whole message in its first line, and the rest is the evidence. Nadaan, innocent, is the word for the one who does not know, and the bird's innocence is the reason it wanders. The questions are rhetorical, kyun phire maara, why do you wander beaten, and the third line names the wanderer: raat biraat ka banjaara, the nomad of the night, the traveller who carries no map. The refrain, ghar aaja, is repeated four times, which is the song's way of making the call the home.

پرندہ parinde
birds
بدیش bidesh
a foreign country
بےحال behaal
in a bad way, undone
بنجارا banjaara
a wanderer; one of the trading people with no fixed home

02  — sau dard badan pe phele hain

سو درد بدن پہ پھیلے ہیں
ہر کرم کے کپڑے میلے ہیں
کاٹے چاہے جتنا پروں سے ہواؤں کو
خود سے نہ بچ پائے گا تو
توڑ آسمانوں کو
پھونک دے جہانوں کو
خود کو چھپا نا پائے گا تو
کوئی بھی لے راستہ، تو ہے تو میں بستا
اپنے ہی گھر آئے گا تو

सौ दर्द बदन पे फैले हैं
हर कर्म के कपड़े मैले हैं
काटे चाहे जितना परों से हवाओं को
खुद से ना बच पाएगा तू
तोड़ आसमानों को
फूँक दे जहानों को
खुद को छुपा ना पाएगा तू
कोई भी ले रास्ता, तू है तू में बस्ता
अपने ही घर आएगा तू

sau dard badan pe phele hain
har karam ke kapde maile hain
kaate chahe jitna paron se hawaon ko
khud se na bach paayega tu
todd aasmaanon ko
phoonk de jahaanon ko
khud ko chhupa na paayega tu
koi bhi le raasta, tu hai tu mein basta
apne hi ghar aayega tu

A hundred pains are spread over your body, the clothes of every deed are soiled. However much you cut the winds with your wings, you will not escape yourself. Break the skies, blow up the worlds, you will not be able to hide yourself. Take any road: you are, and you live inside yourself. You will arrive at your own house.

The passage is the argument, and the argument is the geography of the self. The hundred pains and the soiled clothes are the body's record, and the escape routes are listed with full scale, tod aasmaanon ko, phoonk de jahaanon ko, break the skies, blow up the worlds, and every one fails. The middle line is the passage's whole point, tu hai tu mein basta, you exist, and you reside in yourself, and the closing line is the promise the song has been carrying: apne hi ghar aayega tu, you will come to your own house. The wandering ends where it began.

کرم karam
a deed, a thing done
میلا maile
soiled, dirty

03  — kaaga kaaga re, mori itni arj tonse

کاگا کاگا رے، میری اتنی ارز تو سے
چن چن کھائیو مانس
ارزیا رے، کھائیو نا تو نینا موہے
پیا کے ملن کی آس
کھائیو نا تو نینا موہے
پیا کے ملن کی آس

कागा कागा रे, मोरी इतनी अर्ज तोसे
चुन चुन खाइयो माँस
अर्जिया रे, खाइयो ना तू नैना मोरे
पिया के मिलन की आस
खाइयो ना तू नैना मोरे
पिया के मिलन की आस

kaaga kaaga re, mori itni arj tonse
chun chun khaaiyo maans
arjiya re, khaaiyo na tu naina more
piya ke milan ki aas
khaaiyo na tu naina more
piya ke milan ki aas

Crow, crow, I have this one request of you: eat the flesh, piece by piece. But, crow, do not eat my eyes, because of the hope of meeting my beloved. Do not eat my eyes, because of the hope of the beloved's meeting.

The passage is the folk song the tradition has carried for centuries, and it is the song's answer to the wandering. The crow, the eater of the dead, is allowed the flesh and denied the eyes, and the reason is the whole poem: the eyes wait for the beloved's meeting, piya ke milan ki aas. The passage is the home the first line promised, and the home is a person. The innocent bird's wandering and the waiting eyes are the same condition, and the song has spent its whole length bringing them together.

کاگا kaaga
the crow: Braj
عرض arj
a request, a petition
ماس maans
flesh
آس aas
hope

Reading it whole

The song is a lullaby with a theology inside it. Nadaan parinde, innocent bird: the address is the Sufi address to the soul that has forgotten where it lives. Ghar aaja, come home, is the whole message, and the rest of the song is the proof that the wandering has no destination: wherever the bird flies, it will not escape itself.

The first passage is the diagnosis of the wandering. The bird has gone through foreign lands, worn out and defeated, and the song's first image of the home is the body: the hundred pains spread over it, the clothes of every deed soiled. The middle passage is the argument: no matter how much you cut the winds with your wings, you will not escape yourself. Break the skies, blow up the worlds, hide yourself, and the home will still find you: apne hi ghar aayega tu, you will arrive at your own house.

The last passage is the turn, and it is a quotation from the folk song of the crow, kaga kaga re: the crow is asked to eat the flesh but spare the eyes, because the eyes wait for the beloved's coming. The passage sets the bird's wandering beside the eyes that wait, and the song's answer to the wandering is the waiting. The home that the first passage promised is the person the eyes are watching for.

Mohit Chauhan's voice, with the film's portrait of the artist who must lose everything to find his own house, made the song the year's most quoted homecoming, and the refrain, ghar aaja, has become the line people sing when they mean the soul.

Recordings

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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 Rockstar (2011), music A. R. Rahman, lyrics Irshad Kamil. The closing passage borrows the old folk verse of the crow, kaga kaga re, which is sung whole here.

Irshad Kamil 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.