Daddy Sang Bass

“Daddy Sang Bass” playing on my car stereo brought tears to my eyes, as we drove to Guardians of the Galaxy, me thinking of my dispersed and ageing family. My child sat in the back, Svend in the driver’s seat and I’m thinking back to me sitting in the back seat, with my teenaged brother and sister. They’re now in their 50’s.
We’re driving to Hiran Minar on a sunny day. My abbu is singing in the front seat:
ماں پیاری ماں
گودی میں تری کهیلا بچپن میرا
Mother, my beloved mother
My childhood played in your lap
hiran-minar-4.jpg
When he stops, ammi in the passenger seat, is singing 1950s Lata in her absolutely beautiful melodious voice:
مٹی سے کهیلتے هو بار بار کس لئیے
ٹوٹے هوئے کهلونوں سے پیار کس لئیے
Why do You play with earth again and again
Why this love for broken toys
Abbu is now lying, smiling meekly in bed, a third of his size, a fraction of his strength. Ammi is helping clean his bedsheets. Abbu looks at my face on the computer screen and smiles mildly, saying, “Pretty.” “It’s Shabana,” ammi reminds me. He seems okay with that and moves on to muttering about something quietly.
No, the circle won’t be broken
by and by, Lord, by and by … 
I’m gonna join the family circle at the Throne
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3 Replies to “Daddy Sang Bass”

  1. childhood memories of parents singing brings tears to my eyes; tears of both grief and joy, as they may seem physically fragile but they are mentally and spiritually so strong that they can move mountains; mountains of sadness from my heart. God Bless them.

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