The victim of all such lyrics- Muhtarama Es-ne-haaaa herself was now carrying a stranger’s head on her shoulder, heading toward an unknown city with no destination, nursing a hurt she had no right to feel toward someone whose life she had no official place in. At forty, none of this felt adventurous! Not even a little. And yet, by some twist of fate, those songs had shaped her childhood. She was still somehow representing a generation that committed suicide over failed love, as if she were still twenty-one. In fact, she had just turned 21 or so it felt. And she had rung it in by calling herself the saddest woman on the earth!