پریشان Pareshaan — Scattered, Distraught

My new new eyes are searching for you, door to door, why? The new new scenes stare at me like this, why? Little by little my heart began to fall on the flowers, little by little it began to lean on the thorns. I am scattered, scattered, scattered, scattered.

The passage opens on the double wonder, naye naye, new new, and both halves are questions: why do my new eyes search for you door to door, why do the new scenes stare at me. The heart's two motions follow, jhadna on the flowers and lagne on the thorns, falling and leaning, and the pair is the scatter's whole chart. The refrain arrives as the diagnosis, main परेशान, and the doubling makes the diagnosis the identity.

پریشان pareshaan

scattered, dishevelled; and so, troubled

در بدر dar badar

from door to door, with nowhere of one's own

منظر manzar

a scene, a sight

تکنا takte

stare fixedly

Where are those fires now? I am scattered, scattered, scattered, scattered. The grudges are the smoke. Having fainted, the lanes have begun to turn back. The roads have begun to join themselves to yours, they have begun to join.

The passage is the refrain's gloss, and the gloss is a picture. The fires, aatish, are asked after as something that has gone, and the answer is that only the smoke remains, ranjishen, the grudges. The lanes that faint and turn back, gash khaake, are the geography of the scatter, and the last lines are the scatter's one coherent act: the roads join themselves to the beloved's, judni lagi hain, and the joining is the only direction the scattered self has left.

آتش aatishen

fires

رنجش ranjishen

grudges, ill feeling held on to

غش کھانا gash khaake

having fainted, having swooned

All these crossroads, beaten by the miles, ask after your whereabouts. Little by little my heart began to tire of walking, little by little it began to want to fly. The atmosphere of charm: I am scattered, scattered, scattered, scattered. The atmosphere of wishes.

The passage widens the scatter to the whole town. The chau baare, the crossroads, beaten by the miles, ask after the beloved's address, and the heart's two verbs run through the passage, thakna and udna, tiring of the walk and wanting the flight. The refrain's two glosses bracket the passage, dilkashi ka samaa and khwahishon ka samaa, the weather of charm and the weather of wishes, and the scatter is given its two skies: the charm she cannot have and the wishes she keeps making.

دلکشی dilkashi

charm, the quality of drawing people in

خواہش khwahishon

wishes

For no reason I have begun to die on myself, begun to die. I have begun to fill the frank sighs, begun to fill them. The cheetahs of love are salty and sweet. What I was, and what I have become.

The passage is the scatter's last report, and the report is the turning inward. Marne lagi hoon, I have begun to die, is the confession the song has been building toward, and the doubled verb makes the dying a habit. The passage's last lines are its gift, chaahat ke cheete khaare bhi meethe hain, the cheetahs of love, salty and sweet, and the final question, main kya se kya ho gayi, what I was and what I have become, is the scatter's whole biography in six words, asked as a question and answered by the song itself.

بےباک bebak

outspoken, without fear of what is proper

چیتا cheete

cheetahs

کھارا khaare

salty