'I expect nothing; I fear nothing; I am free.' The epitaph of Nikos Kazantzakis is not something you would immediately associate with "Na To Caravan Ki Talash Hai" from Barsaat Ki Raat (1960), especially not the beat-heavy Sonu Nigam rendition in Dhurandhar (2025). Yet, when Sahir Ludhianvi writes of desiring nothing but love, not even a 'humsafar', he is referencing the sort of stoicism that's entirely alien to the revenge-fuelled world of Dhurandhar, which reframes the qawwali as an angsty war cry.
Sahir's defiance lies not just in rejecting worldly 'pyaar' for a higher consciousness of 'ishq', but also in the syncretism he blends into his poetry - something that feels increasingly distant today. Mohammed Rafi invokes Radha as easily as he does Janak ki dulaari (Sita), before calling love "Allah Rasool ka farmaan." The song peaks with the striking assertion: "bande ko khuda karta hai ishq" (love elevates the human to the divine).
Studio lore has it that Rafi recorded the song across multiple sessions to preserve its vitality. Roshan crafted a composition that blends classical influences with sweeping cinematic scale. Yet, once recording was complete, he is said to have gone home anxious, fearing he had made a grave mistake by committing to an almost 12-minute qawwali.
Filming stretched across days, as the makers sought an authentic "live" energy.
Dhurandhar may have returned the song to drawing-room conversations, but this is a qawwali that never truly left. After all, it expected nothing and feared nothing. It was, thus, born free.
Song Storiesis a monthly column that takes up an iconic number and explores why it still lives rent-free in our heads.

