All Night | Saari Raat Call | Ap Dillon | Shinda Kehlon | 2022 Album | Audio Version | Today

He tapped the screen, and the familiar rhythm of began to pulse through the speakers. It was the heart of AP Dhillon’s Two Hearts Never Break the Same album, a track that felt less like music and more like a confession.

"Just driving," Kabir replied, leaning back. "And listening to our song." He tapped the screen, and the familiar rhythm

As Shinda Kahlon’s verses flowed through the car, blending traditional vibes with that modern, late-night grit, Kabir felt the miles between them vanish. They didn't need to say much. The lyrics did the heavy lifting, capturing that restless, magnetic pull of two people who couldn't figure out how to hang up. "And listening to our song

The neon glow of the dashboard clock ticked past 2:00 AM, casting a soft blue light over Kabir’s face. Outside, the highway stretched into a blur of black asphalt and yellow lines, but inside the car, the world felt small and intimate. The neon glow of the dashboard clock ticked

"The AP Dhillon one?" she laughed gently. "The one where they talk about staying on the phone saari raat ?"

They talked about everything and nothing—the way the moon looked from her balcony, the dreams they were too scared to chase during the daylight, and the melody that seemed to loop perfectly with the hum of the engine.

"Exactly. It’s 2022, Shreya. Who actually stays on a call all night anymore?" "We do," she whispered.