A Connoisseur

The night was about to set in as the lights had been lit up everywhere. As usual, the market was colorful. The people were busy in their own way. At that time, the melody of music fell in his ears and he became restless. He was drawn towards the direction of the music. It is not known as to why he felt like that because he could not stop himself much against his wish. The song had been sung with great skill by the singer. Suddenly he started rambling, "That's it!" Yes, yes, this is the song that he had heard years ago. ” After listening to the song, he was hit by madness. He appeared to be about 55-60 years old by looking at his face.

He had heard this song on the gramophone about fifty years ago. After this, he heard all kinds of song and music - from movies, non-movies, light music to classical music but he could not get that satisfaction as he got from this song. For the sake of that song, he had gone to many music sales centers (music stores) to big gatherings and festivals in many cities but regretted that he could not hear that song again. He searched for the song even on the Internet and YouTube for the lyrics. But it was futile as that song was not available there either.

Today, after fifty years, his age-old search had come to an end. So he was bound to be crazy. He continued to move towards the voice unconsciously. The sound was coming from the first floor of the brothel. The record of that song was being played on an old gramophone. He was shocked! In the modern era of computer and mobile, someone was listening to the old song in a style fifty-sixty years old. Perhaps someone crazier than that person was present here.

"You seem to be a man of taste, Babu Sahib." Shabana, the mistress of the brothel, said while giving a jerk to her hairs.

“Tasteful! This song. Where Am I? ”The man had awakened from a sleep.

"You have come to the right place, Saheb. This is the market of beauties.” Shabana clapped her hands and about a dozen girls entered the room and stood in a queue.

"Sorry, I was passing through this street when the lyrics of the song fell into my ears – “I am your flute. Place me on your lips." He said impatiently.

"This is a song sung by Ranjana Bai, the famous melody queen of the past." This was recorded by Nawab Saheb, who was fond of song and music. Only a small number of copies were sold. Then this song was forever lost in the darkness of oblivion. To make it clear this song belongs to the time when the songs of K L Sehgal were sung all over India. ”Shabana told the visitor almost the entire history associated with the song.

“May I ask you a question?” Shabana nodded her head and gave her permission.

Then he asked her question, “Are you still listening to this music on the gramophone? May I know the reason why? "

“Ranjana Bai was my grandmother. My mother used to hear this song often on the gramophone. She told me that the gramophone was bought by my grandmother at that time. It used to be with only a few nobles of the city. "

"Oh, is that so! You are a bigger fan of her than me. I have a thousand rupees. If you want, keep this and give me the record.”The connoisseur said this taking out a thousand rupee note from his pocket.

“For a thousand rupees, you can have pleasure all night, Babuji. Why do you spend a thousand rupees on this wasteful record?” Shabana said again with a chuckle.

"I heard this song at the age of eight or ten years". After this, he told the whole story of his passion behind this song to Shabana. Then bringing out another note from his other pocket he said, "Keep this five hundred rupee, but give me this record for the sake of Allah. At the moment I don’t have any more to offer. This song is my age-old quest. He showed his empty pocket to assure her that he had nothing more to give.

"Very nice! You are a true connoisseur of the art of music. Be true to the art! Take this record and gramophone too. "Shabana said returning the money.

"These are gifts from our side in honor of your passion."

"But why are you returning the money?" The person said.

"No doubt that we are women of ill fame, but art dwells in our souls and we do not deal with art," Shabana said proudly.

THE END

कद्रदान 

★★★★★ 

Romance

© Mahavir Uttranchali

https://storymirror.com/read/story/hindi/6s6jbdbs/kdrdaan/detail 

दीवानगीपैसेयकीन