Zinda Hoon Yaar Kafi Hai
Zinda hoon yaar kafi hai... it was Amit Trivedi's turn on the speakers as he was rolling his first roti of the day. He resonated with the song more since last few months because life was not fair to him. Just two days back he had started making what can be called perfect rotis. They were round, remained soft hours after making it and most important they puffed up like heaven!
But since last two days he had lost the skill. The rotis weren't round anymore, they turned chewy and no more puffed up. 'How could you lose a skill once you have acquired it?' he wondered. May be he hadn't acquired it. But rotis he made two days before was the manifestation of he was getting there. As he put the first roti on the tawa his flatmate appeared from nowhere and pointed out the obvious mistake he made, not turning the roti the other side before putting it on the naked flame. He did not like his interference as he flipped it on the tawa because that is not how he thought his mom would make it. He joined Amit Trivedi with volume higher than usual Mujhe chhod do mere haal pe... mare haal pe.. mere haal pe... His way of telling his flatmate to go away. But to his surprise the roti puffed! Wow he thought, may be he was wrong earlier, may be he emulated his mom's method in a wrong way or remembered it incorrectly. The flatmate having made a point and after getting not so subtle get out vibe went away. He rolled the next roti with utmost concentration, it was round! He put it on the tawa and flipped it before putting it on the naked flame. He was taught a new lesson today, he was taught to be open to ideas, may be that was what life was telling him since last few months. And may be he resonated with the words Zinda hoon yaar kafi hai, because he had closed himself. The roti was baked evenly on both the sides, time to put it on naked flame. He removed the tawa from the flame put the roti and poof... the roti puffed!
As he went back to the speakers, Amit Trivedi was pianoing the prelude of some different track. The days of mujhe chhod do mere haal pe had gone and days of being open to new moments, new learning and small joys had begun!
But since last two days he had lost the skill. The rotis weren't round anymore, they turned chewy and no more puffed up. 'How could you lose a skill once you have acquired it?' he wondered. May be he hadn't acquired it. But rotis he made two days before was the manifestation of he was getting there. As he put the first roti on the tawa his flatmate appeared from nowhere and pointed out the obvious mistake he made, not turning the roti the other side before putting it on the naked flame. He did not like his interference as he flipped it on the tawa because that is not how he thought his mom would make it. He joined Amit Trivedi with volume higher than usual Mujhe chhod do mere haal pe... mare haal pe.. mere haal pe... His way of telling his flatmate to go away. But to his surprise the roti puffed! Wow he thought, may be he was wrong earlier, may be he emulated his mom's method in a wrong way or remembered it incorrectly. The flatmate having made a point and after getting not so subtle get out vibe went away. He rolled the next roti with utmost concentration, it was round! He put it on the tawa and flipped it before putting it on the naked flame. He was taught a new lesson today, he was taught to be open to ideas, may be that was what life was telling him since last few months. And may be he resonated with the words Zinda hoon yaar kafi hai, because he had closed himself. The roti was baked evenly on both the sides, time to put it on naked flame. He removed the tawa from the flame put the roti and poof... the roti puffed!
As he went back to the speakers, Amit Trivedi was pianoing the prelude of some different track. The days of mujhe chhod do mere haal pe had gone and days of being open to new moments, new learning and small joys had begun!
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