Tag Archives: soulmates

Have we met before?

The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.
They’re in each other all along.


Somewhere in between wiping dust off book shelves, cleaning the desk and rearranging knick-knacks all over the house, a thought enters my mind: what if we have met before?

There is a beautiful poem called, reason-season-lifetime, and I use it many times during my experiences with others.  When that someone suddenly stops calling, or that person you thought you would share all your life experiences with, is no longer part of your life, I tell myself that the season has come to an end, or that they have served their reason.

As we grow older (I just turned 35 last month), the circle of people who we are sharing a lifetime with becomes closer, tighter and more defined. We stop giving chances to people who are coming into your life may be for a reason, or we just don’t want to have a another ‘seasonal’ relationship.

I am guilty of becoming that someone, and recently found myself asking why this new human was trying to find a way into my well defined, ‘I-have-made-my-choices’ life?

The social conditioning in our current setting today leads us to take predefined routes to reach people. Invite them for a party, chat online, emojis exchanged on social media or using that poke feature. All this meant digital nagging for me!

That is when this thought entered my mind: ‘what if they have known me before?’, recognizing me maybe from another lifetime.

Were we related in that lifetime, were we siblings, rivals or may be even lovers? Did we share a deeper connection?

Have I forgotten it, and may be they remember! Are they looking at me, trying to remind me of the times we shared in that lifetime, reaching out to me because they feel the connection , although they cant explain it?

Or is it just plain attraction, human nature at its most basic….

Have we met before?

Maybe we have……


This is a lovely poem by, Ahmed Faraz: Ab ke bhichde toh, in which he takes us to all the places we might meet.


Ab ke hum bichde toh shayad kabhi khwabon mein mile,
Jis tarah sookhe hue phool kitaabon mein mile.

Tu khuda hai na mera ishq farishton jaisa,
Dono insaan hain toh kyu itne hijabon mein mile.

Ghum-e-duniya bhi, ghum-e-yaar mein shamil kar lo,
Nasha badta hai sharabein jo sharabon mein mile.

Dhoondh ujade hue logon mein wafa ke moti,
Yeh khazane tujhe mumkin hai kharabon mein mile.

Ab na woh main hoon, na tu hain, na woh maazi hain Faraz,
Jaise do shakhs tamanna ke saraabon mein mile.


If separated now, then we might only meet in dreams
Like dry flowers that are found in books

Neither you are God nor is my love like an angel
If we both are human beings, then why should we meet in hiding

Let the sorrows of the world and the sorrows caused by my beloved combine
The intoxication increases after all, when the drinks are combined

Look for the pearls of fidelity in the people who have been run aground
Only in ruins it is possible to find these treasures.

You and I are not the same, nor do we have the same destination Faraz
Like two shadows meeting in the desert of desires.




What of life, if not for all the people we meet en route, the moments we share with them, the impact they have on us, on our thoughts and our perspective.

I remember being 17 and having a whole host of friends. Surrounded by peers mostly, trying to fit in, trying to be liked, playing hard at impressing and being popular. Even with no musical inclination, I remember joining the choir at college, signing myself hoarse, just so that I could belong.

For the next 5 years I took a kind of sabbatical from making friends, connecting with new people or even keeping in touch with old friends. Life was taking me in another direction, and I was trying to make sense of where.

The journey back into developing and nurturing relationships was slow and unique in many ways. The relationships in this phase were not forced by blood,  by environment nor by society, but by what I would like to call ‘clicks’.

We simply clicked.

This has led me today to be surrounded by individuals unique in personality, character and temperament. It is a motley group of people who I call my friends; some have grandchildren, some have just experienced their first kiss, some have adopted a child, and some are just beginning their careers.

Was I drawn to them or were they souls wandering in time, whom I have met in another lifetime, coming together again ? How else am I going to explain playing battleship one evening, while the next day sipping wine on a rooftop as we talk late into the night. Robert Kiyosaki, in his book, Rich Brother, Rich Sister calls them the ‘spiritual family’.

Each soul in my spiritual family has touched me in so many ways, allowed me to escape time, allowed me to enter their world where we learn, rejoice and become.

This week’s rendition by Faiz, in his words captures the moments I have been fortunate to share with these individuals. Everything that is the present today, the sky, that glass of wine, the dry leaves, the long road, the pain within us, the hurt, love lost and love fulfilled, would not be the same without You.

Rang hai dil ka mere
Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Tum na aaye the to har ik cheez wohi thi ki jo hai
Aasmaan hadd-e-nazar, raahguzar- raahguzar, sheesha-e-mai- sheesha-e-mai

Aur ab sheesha-e-mai, raahguzar, rang-e-falak
Rang hai dil ka mere, “khoon-e-jigar hone tak”
Champaai rang kabhi, raahat-e-deedaar ka rang
Surmayi rang ki hai sa’at-e-bezaar ka rang
Zard patton ka, khas-o-khaar ka rang
Surkh phoolon ka, dehekte hue gulzaar ka rang
Zehar ka rang, lahu rang, shab-e-taar ka rang
Aasmaan, raahguzar, sheesha-e-mai
Koi bheegaa hua daaman, koi dukhti hui rag
Koi har lehzaa badaltaa hua aaina hai

Ab jo aaye ho to thehro ki koi rang, koi rut, koi shai
Ek jagah par thehre
Phir ik baar har ik cheez wohi ho ki jo hai
Aasmaan hadd-e-nazar, raahguzar-raahguzar, sheesha-e-mai- sheesha-e-mai

August 1963

Here is Faiz himself, reciting his poem ‘Rang hai dil ka mere’.

The colour of my heart
translated by Mustansir Dalvi

When you weren’t here,
all things were as they are:
the sky stretched as far as the eye can see
the road stayed a road,
a glass of wine, a glass of wine.

And now, the glass of wine and the road
are imbued with the colour of dusk-
the colour that is, of my heart, singed
with blood that pumps through it,
sometimes, turning purple,
straining with the relief of reunion,
or sometimes pale gray, the moment
of weariness, of self-loathing.
Leaves dried, yellowed,
prickly, like thistles, like hay.
Red blossoms igniting
the garden into inferno.
Venom, stained of the blood it shed.
The dead hue of night.
The sky, wet like a tear-stained vest,
the road, pulled like a throbbing vein,
the glass, disloyal, like a mirror
that changes reflections by the moment.

Now that you are here, stay.
Stay, so colors, seasons, so everything
comes to rest in one place. And once again,
let all things be as they are:
the sky stretched as far as the eye can see,
the road stay a road,
a glass of wine, a glass of wine.



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