Quite aptly, his lyrics such as Tujhko mirchi lagi toh main kya karoon have no English equivalent.

Lyricist Sameer has always prided himself as a pedestrian poet.

Consider this: Main toh raste se jaa raha tha/Main toh bhelpuri kha raha tha/Main toh ladki ghumaa raha tha

Raste se jaa raha tha

Bhelpuri kha raha tha

Ladki ghuma raha tha

So far so-so. The words are in metre.

He then introduces the fourth line of the stanza: Tujhko mirchi lagi toh main kya karoon.

No rhyme. No rhythm. Is it anti-metre? Is it a punch line? Is this a joke?

The addictively catchy tune gets cheekier in another invectice line: Teri nani mari toh main kya karoon!

Bloody rascal behaviour. The unfunny line provokes you to consider a chuckle in repose.

Indubitably, he must be ranked with the greats, even if lower in order of distinction, but comparable to Javed Akhtar whose refusal to write lyrics for a titillatingly titled film Kuch Kuch Hota Hai led to Sameer writing in maudlin resignation: Kya karoon haaye, kuch kuch hota hai.

In a recent Lallantop appearance, the interviewer eloquently introduces Sameer with a line from his lyrics in the song Dulhe Ka Sehra Suhana Lagta Hai.

The line is Main teri baahon ke jhule mein pali babul.

The interviewer says this line alone can melt even the coldest of hearts.

Sameer recalls the incident when the singer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan teared up at this very line for over an hour in the recording room, reminded of his own daughter Nida.

With each new take, as he reached the line, he’d choke and weep.

Main teri baahon ke jhule mein pali babul.

An emotional Khan saab was persuaded to stop but he stubbornly completed the qawwali.

He said: If I can’t do it today, I’ll never complete it.

Khan sings the first line of the antara in lai with the second line of the antara Ja rahi hoon chhod ke teri gully babul.

He feels a jolt.

Unsatisfied with the melody, he then repeats the first line Main teri baahon ke jhule mein pali babul a second time with a taan, then scales octave in the third attempt and finally returns to the metre and scale in the fourth repetition of the same line.

It’s a record-smashing vocal quadrathlon.

He did not have to sing the line four times but the qawwali nurtures improvisation. Khan saab got carried away, perhaps foreseeing his daughter’s hand in marriage.

Khan had been ill for some time. He knew he would not be around for her wedding. He died in 1997, soon after the song recording. Nida was in her teens. In 2000, the song was featured in the film Dhadkan.

Sameer’s conversational poetry is his legacy. Khan sang those words like a plea, hoping it would make it to Nida’s special day. Nida remains unmarried, missing her father’s presence for her bidaai.

Main teri baahon ke jhule mein pali babul.