An old season has returned; a memory laden wind as well. This doesn't happen too often; that she is longing as well.

In memory's rain when the eyelids begin to get wet, This sunk heart's disgrace smells fragrant as well.

Every face appears as two in this flooded mirror of mine. On every journey her fluid shadow follows me as well.

The journey towards silence is silent as well. I hear her words again; I speak again as well.

Translated from the Hindustani*

* I have taken liberties with my translation of this (much more sombre) ghazal in order to make it fit my current mood of longing. Listen to it sung by Jagjit Singh here. Also this is a translation of Gulzar's (I love the man's voice as well) preface to the singing.