Chal Khusrau Ghar Apna

Young India had geared up for this Cricket World Cup as never before. From Joga-style splash-printed t-shirts to live feeds at all the conference rooms -- it had been an eat-cricket sleep-cricket kind of fortnight at work. Now as India crash out following first-round defeats to Bangladesh and Sri Lanka, there is only silence. The players' cutouts are being taken down, headed no doubt for a bonfire in some parking lot. Some cubes away, a sweet-voiced office wag is singing:

Gori suwe sej par, mukh par darey kes,
Chal Khusrau ghar apna, saanjh bhau chahu des

The fair one sleeps on the couch, black tresses cover her face,
O Khusrau, let's go home now, it's twilight all over the world

(Lines written in the 1300s at the death of Hazrat Nizamuddin Aulia. Above: An aul inside the sanctuary of the dargah of Hazrat Nizamuddin in Delhi. Khusrau, and coincidentally Mirza Ghalib too, are buried close by.)