Nostalgic Smiles: Habib Khan Memoir

While returning from my morning walk, I listen to some old songs recorded on my cell phone. Each song reminds me of a person, event, or happening from the past, and these memories leave a smile on my face. As a result, I enter my home with a smile.

However, someone I crossed paths with on Friday morning had a different perspective. Normally, I walk past a few people, mostly drivers waiting for their employers or children from a nearby school. Last Friday, one of them turned towards me and, in an extremely serious tone, said, “Jawani ke zakhmoN ko taza karne wale gaane sunte ho?” (“Why do you listen to songs that freshen the wounds of young age?”)

This comment left me with a spontaneous burst of laughter, and I walked past without saying anything. I couldn’t help but wonder why the gentleman thinks this way when the songs bring smiles to my face. Perhaps the smiles are my anchors, while the same songs anchor him towards some sad stories? Or maybe there’s another explanation altogether.

Even the saddest songs can evoke light memories that force me to smile. I recall an incident from the early seventies when we were having breakfast, and the radio was playing a song, “Main zindagi mein har dam rota hi raha hoon” (“I have been crying throughout my life”). Although it was a sad song, my uncle, Gul Khan Nasir, who was present, spontaneously said in Brahvi, gesturing towards the radio, “Pitt e ne yar” (“Shame on you, friend”). This prompted a sudden burst of laughter, and since then, even that sad song has brought a smile to my face.

My friend and classmate, Kalandar (Khan Mastana), would often lie down on his bed, spread-eagled, immersing himself deeply in the song “How Deep Is Your Love.” Every time I hear this song, it anchors sweet memories of Kalandar, bringing even more smiles.

Another melancholic song, “Aag lag jaye iss zindagi ko” (“Let this life be burnt to ashes”), was often sung by my younger cousin, Jamal Khan, during our overnight picnics to “Dak” west of Noshkay in the desert.

Jamal Khan, caught up in the emotional fervor, spontaneously used to translate a part of the song into Brahvi, rendering it even more poignant, “Khakhar huss lugge da zindagi ae.” Even after four decades, this memory still brings a smile to my face.

In 1998, while returning from our wonderful first overseas vacation, my family – my wife, two daughters, and I – sang “Zindagi ke safar mein guzar jaate hain jo maqaam” inside the plane as we took off from Heathrow Airport. Although the song is a sad one, it refreshes memories of that wonderful trip, bringing even more smiles. And the list goes on.

It’s not that no song evokes a sad or even dreadful memory, it’s just that I choose not to include those songs onto my list. So, even in these gloomy situations it’s all smiles at least in the morning.