پی لوں Pee Loon — Let Me Drink

Irshad Kamil

1971– living

Geet

A man is thirsty, and everything about the woman he loves is drink. Let me drink the dew of your blue blue eyes, he begins, and the song never leaves the drinking metaphor after that. Her lips are a song, her breath is a season, her hands are the cup, and the whole song is one long draught taken slowly.

Irshad Kamil wrote it for Once Upon a Time in Mumbaai in 2010, and Mohit Chauhan sang it. Four passages ahead, and the fourth one turns the drinking around: it is not only the beloved he drinks, it is the burning of missing her, sipped slowly.

01 — pee loon tere neele neele nainon se shabnam

پی لوں تیرے نیلے نیلے نینوں سے شبنم
پی لوں تیرے گیلے گیلے ہونٹوں کی سرگم
پی لوں ہے پینے کا موسم
تیرے سنگ عشق تاری ہے
تیرے سنگ ایک خماری ہے
تیرے سنگ چین بھی مجھکو
تیرے سنگ بیکراری ہے

पी लूँ तेरे नीले नीले नैनों से शबनम
पी लूँ तेरे गीले गीले होंठों की सरगम
पी लूँ है पीने का मौसम
तेरे संग इश्क़ तारी है
तेरे संग एक ख़ुमारी है
तेरे संग चैन भी मुझको
तेरे संग बेकरारी है

pee loon tere neele neele nainon se shabnam
pee loon tere geelay geelay hothon ki sargam
pee loon hai peene ka mausam
tere sang ishq taari hai
tere sang ik khumaari hai
tere sang chain bhi mujhko
tere sang bekraari hai

Let me drink the dew from your blue blue eyes. Let me drink the melody of your moist moist lips. Let me drink: it is the season of drinking. With you, love is in force. With you, there is an intoxication. With you, I have peace, and with you, there is restlessness.

The passage sets the song's table. The doubled adjectives, neele neele, geelay geelay, blue blue, moist moist, are the folk doubling that makes the description a caress, and the two draughts are eyes and lips, the two organs of the beloved's language. The refrain that follows is the song's diagnosis of the state: ishq taari, love declared as a state of martial law, and the pair chain and bekraari, peace and restlessness, held together by the same tere sang, with you.

شبنم shabnam: dew
طاری taari: coming over somebody, taking hold of them
خماری khumaari: the heaviness that follows intoxication
بےقراری bekraari: restlessness

02 — tere bin jee nahin lagda, tere bin jee nahin sakda

تیرے بن جی نہیں لگدا، تیرے بن جی نہیں سکدا
تجھ پہ ہے ہارے میں وارے دو جہاں
قربان، مہربان، کہ میں تو قربان
سن لے ذرا، تیرا قربان

तेरे बिन जी नहीं लगदा, तेरे बिन जी नहीं सकदा
तुझ पे है हारे मैं वारे दो जहाँ
क़ुरबान, मेहरबान, के मैं तो क़ुरबान
सुन ले ज़रा, तेरा क़ुरबान

tere bin jee nahin lagda, tere bin jee nahin sakda
tujh pe hai haare main vaare do jahaan
qurbaan, meharbaan, ke main toh qurbaan
sun le zara, tera qurbaan

Without you living does not settle, without you I cannot live. I stake on you both worlds, lost, given. Sacrifice, my kind one: I am your sacrifice. Listen a little: your sacrifice.

The passage is the vow, and it is made in the Punjabi the poet was raised in, jee nahi lagda, the living that will not settle. The staking of two worlds, do jahaan, is the classical wager of the lover, and the words of sacrifice, qurbaan, meharbaan, are the tradition's highest currency. The last line, sun le zara, listen a little, is the request that carries the whole vow: the sacrifice wants an audience of one.

دو جہاں do jahaan: both worlds, this one and the next
قربان qurbaan: sacrificed, given up for somebody
مہربان meharbaan: kind, gracious

03 — hosh mein rahoon kyun aaj main

ہوش میں رہوں کیوں آج میں
تو میری باہوں میں سمٹی ہے
مجھ میں سمائی ہے یوں
جس طرح کی کوئی ہو ندی
تو میرے سینے میں چھپتی ہے
ساگر تمہارا میں ہوں
پی لوں تیری دھیمی دھیمی لہروں کی چھم چھم
پی لوں تیری سوندی سوندی سانسوں کو ہر دم

होश में रहूँ क्यों आज मैं
तू मेरी बाहों में सिमटी है
मुझ में समाई है यूँ
जिस तरह की कोई हो नदी
तू मेरे सीने में छुपती है
सागर तुम्हारा मैं हूँ
पी लूँ तेरी धीमी धीमी लहरों की छम छम
पी लूँ तेरी सौंधी सौंधी साँसों को हर दम

hosh mein rahoon kyun aaj main
tu meri baahon mein simti hai
mujh mein samaayi hai yun
jis tarah ki koi ho nadi
tu mere seenay mein chhupti hai
saagar tumhaara main hoon
pee loon teri dheemi dheemi lehron ki chham chham
pee loon teri saundhi saundhi saanson ko har dam

Why should I keep my senses today? You have folded into my arms, you have entered me the way a river enters, you hide in my chest: I am your ocean. Let me drink the gentle gentle chham chham of your waves. Let me drink your earthy earthy breaths, every moment.

The passage turns the beloved into a river and the lover into the sea, saagar tumhaara main hoon, I am your ocean: the river's hiding in the chest is the draught's largest form. The doubled words return, dheemi dheemi, saundhi saundhi, gentle gentle, earthy earthy, and the chham chham, the sound of water, is the song's one onomatopoeia, the wave reaching the shore. The question that opens the passage, why keep my senses, is answered by everything after it: the senses are the cup.

سمٹنا simti: gathered in, folded close
سمانا samaayi: contained within, fitted inside
ساگر saagar: the ocean

04 — shaam ko miloon jo main tujhe

شام کو ملوں جو میں تجھے
تو بری صبح نا جانے کیوں
کچھ مان جاتی ہے یہ
ہر لمحہ ہر گھڑی ہر پہر
ہی تیری یادوں سے تڑپا
کے مجھکو جلاتی ہے یہ
پی لوں میں دھیرے دھیرے جلنے کا یہ غم
پی لوں ان گورے گورے ہاتھوں سے ہمدم

शाम को मिलूँ जो मैं तुझे
तो बुरी सुबह ना जाने क्यूँ
कुछ मान जाती है ये
हर लम्हा हर घड़ी हर पहर
ही तेरी यादों से तड़पा
के मुझको जलाती है ये
पी लूँ मैं धीरे धीरे जलने का ये ग़म
पी लूँ इन गोरे गोरे हाथों से हमदम

shaam ko miloon jo main tujhe
to buri subah na jaane kyun
kuchh maan jaati hai ye
har lamha har ghadi har pehar
hi teri yaadon se tadpa
ke mujhko jalaati hai ye
pee loon main dheere dheere jalne ka ye gham
pee loon in gore gore haathon se hamdam

If I meet you in the evening, the morning turns bad, who knows why: something in it gives up. Every moment, every hour, every watch, her memories torment me, and they burn me. Let me drink, slowly slowly, this grief of burning. Let me drink from these fair fair hands, my companion.

The passage is where the drinking turns. The draughts of the beloved's eyes and breath become the draught of the burning itself: jalne ka ye gham, the grief of burning, drunk dheere dheere, slowly slowly, which is how the song's drinking has always gone. The meeting in the evening that ruins the morning is the song's small confession of the cost, and the last line returns the cup to the beloved's hands, gore gore haath, fair fair hands, holding the companion's drink.

پہر pehar: a watch of the day, about three hours
ہمدم hamdam: a close companion; one who shares your breath

Reading it whole

The song is built on a single extended metaphor, and the metaphor never once breaks. Pee loon, let me drink: the verb opens the song and closes it, and everything between is a draught. The beloved's eyes are dew, her lips are a melody, her breath is a breeze, her hands are the cup. The song is a tavern in which the beloved is all the drinks and the lover is the only customer.

The refrain that follows each draught is the song's map of the condition: tere sang ishq taari hai, with you love is in force, tere sang ik khumari hai, with you there is one intoxication, tere sang chain bhi mujhko, tere sang bekraari hai, with you there is peace and restlessness at once. The two opposites, chain and bekraari, are the song's most precise finding: the beloved gives both, and the drinking is the way of holding both.

The middle passages keep the drinking going across the body. The slow waves of her, the fragrance of her breath, taken every moment. Then the strange passage: if I meet her in the evening, the morning turns bad, and the hours burn her memory into him. The draught has turned into the thing that burns, jalne ka ye gumm, the grief of burning, drunk slowly, dheere dheere.

The last passage is the vow, and it is the most repeated line of the song: tere bin jee nahi lagda, tere bin jee nahi sakda, without you living does not settle, without you I cannot live. The vow is made in the Punjabi of the region, the poet's own dialect, and it ends in the words of sacrifice, kurbaan, meharbaan: I have staked two worlds on you, and I am your sacrifice. The song that began by drinking ends by giving, which is where the metaphor was carrying it.

Recordings

Mohit Chauhan

From Once Upon a Time in Mumbaai (2010), composed by Pritam.

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 Once Upon a Time in Mumbaai (2010), music Pritam, lyrics Irshad Kamil. The refrain returns between passages in the recording more often than it is printed 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.