Yasmin, I am sorry
Posted by Shaan Khan on January 16, 2008
I do not like to shop. If possible, I buy things online. For my clothes and personal accessories, I have a personal shopper who lines up the ducks for me. I just accompany her, try on a few things that she has planned out for me, and get it over with as soon as possible. Worse than shopping for your self is accompanying a woman friend for her personal shopping, and shopping with a sister is death by congo (I hope some of you know that joke). Nonetheless, the one place I do not mind shopping is rue du Faubourg St.-Honoré . But then who does not like walking around Paris ?
On one of my trips to Paris, a few years ago, while wandering around I ended up at Mosquée de Paris (located at 39, Rue Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, pretty close to the Jardin des Plantes and the Museum of Natural History). The Mosque is made out of reinforced concrete, and is decorated with amazing mosaics, intricate woodcarvings and very Moorish wrought iron. It is a very pretty structure. Attached to the Mosque is a restaurant. That is where I first saw Yasmin. She was waiting on my table. Watching her glide around the room in her light hazel eyes (lighter than even mine) and somewhat curly Algerian hair was like watching a butterfly effortlessly flap its beautiful colorful wings. Her smile was enchanting, her face so innocent, and whenever she walked by she left behind an aroma of rose. I was on a rebound, not really ready for this, but a voice in my heart said, “Who is she”, simultaneously my lips moved, I asked a busboy who was cleaning up an adjacent table, “Who is that girl”. He smiled and with a wink said that she was a new girl who had just arrived from Algeria and that her name was Yasmin (true name concealed for obvious reasons). I am convinced that I was that day looking at a “hoor” from the Jannat-ul-Firdous (the highest and most prestigious part of heaven) who had been accidently, by mistake, dropped on earth. Every time our eyes met, a voice in my heart sang,
Tum paas aaye, yun muskuraaye - 2
Tumne na jaane kya sapne dikhaaye
Tumne na jaane kya sapne dikhaaye
Ab to mera dil jaage na sota hai
Kya karoon haaye, kuch kuch hota hai - 2
By the God that has created the heavens and the earth, by that very God who placed the planets and the stars in defined orbits, by he who gave Yasmin her beautiful smile, I swear she was no beautiful, so exotic and yet so innocent. Nonetheless, I had lost my fiancée just months ago, I needed time to heal. In any case, my mind at that point was hostage to a walled street, unable to embrace anything unrelated to caps & collars; calls & puts. I quietly sipped my mint tea, ate my couscous, paid my bill and left.
I have since that day regretted walking away from Yasmin. I wish I had taken a different path. Yasmin was the girl for which any decent guy would have sung,
Suraj hua maddham, chaand jalne laga
Aasmaan yeh haai kyoon pighalne laga- 2
Main thehra raha, zameen chalne lagi
Dhadka yeh dil, saans thamne lagi
Oh, kya yeh mera pehla pehla pyaar hai
Sajna, kya yeh mera pehla pehla pyaar hai
Life went on, Kabhi Khushi, Kabhi Gum. On some night, all by myself, looking out from my balcony, the sparkle of one of the stars in the sky reminded me of the glint in Yasmin’s eyes. I felt that she had wanted to say something to me and that I had ignored her. Needless to say, during the day, surrounded by my peers, my thoughts centered around extracting the last basis point out of dry as rock projects. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, a new song began to emerge in my mind,
Har Ghadi Badal Raha Hai Roop Zindagi
Chaav Hai Kahhi Hai Dhoop Zidnagi
Har Ghadi Badal Raha Hai Roop Zindagi
Chaav Hai Kahhi Hai Dhoop Zidnagi
Hence on one of my trips to France (my fiancée is buried in southern France), I stopped in Paris and made my way to the Mosquée de Paris. I prayed two rakat kasar (traveler’s prayer) and headed to the adjacent restaurant. I sat down at the same table that I had a few years ago and like some anxious child started to look around. From the kitchen door, moments later, emerged Yasmin. The smile was gone. The innocence was gone. Her face seemed as if battered by life. She stopped by my table and I looked into her lifeless eyes frantically searching for that Yasmin from a few years ago. Even before I could complete my order for lunch, her husband (the former busboy) came out of the kitchen with their baby child in his hands, yelling at her to change the baby’s diapers.
Lunch that day did not taste that good. How can this world take a vibrant & inncocent woman and kill her spirit ? It is even happening this very second. It is happening under our very nose. Years ago, I could have done something for young Yasmin but I was busy counting my money. I came back too late, but I promise whenever I marry, whoever I marry, in the memory of Yasmin, I will give her all the joys of this world. I cannot change was has happened, but I will try to make one Yasmin happy. With that thought, I once again finished my mint tea, paid my bill, said goodbye and left, while somewhere in the background (at that restaurant) was playing,
Dur jaake bhi mujhse tum meri yaadon main rehna
Kabhi alvida na kehnaJitni thi khushiyaa
Samjha ke dekha behla ke dekha
Dil hai ki chain isko aata nahi
I stepped out of the restaurant, looked back and said in a firm voice, “Yasmin, I am sorry”.
Posted in K Jo, KANK, Kjo, SRK, Shaan Khan | 2 Comments »
