If there is a voice that travels through various parts of my life as song (as I am sure is true of many many Indians) it is the singular voice of Lata Mangeshkar:
through the radio at the istriwaale bhaiya, where as you waited for your clothes to get ironed, you were treated to songs from his tinny radio (Ye Mausam ka Jadoo hain Mitwa)
through the voice of my best friend singing her songs to me in cafes and on walks (Chupa Lo Dil Mein Yun Pyaar Mera), the rendition of which brought tears to my eyes and hers
through the music which mom listened to on the radio as she went about doing her chores (Rahe na rahe hum, mehka karenge: banke kali, banke saba, baage wafa mein)
through this voice that still calls out to me, it was a Marathi movie someone at home was watching and a song that still calls out to me, because the quality of it is haunting and beautiful and soulful and that stays as an echo in you, long after it stops playing. (Akercha Ha Tula Dandavat)
And of course Ghanashyam Sundara in Marathi again, it can be conveyed only in one word: uff
And just about two days ago listening to 'Ajeeb Dastan Hain Ye' as I finally found an auto-rickshaw driver who had a portable speaker and was playing all old Hindi numbers. I was struck by the sheer quality of feeling in that song. It takes you a place that is beautiful, laced with melancholy and longing and you cannot miss a single note of that feeling.
What an echo, of a voice that will linger on forever, what a legacy, to leave behind that you live on in music, in a million households, in a million memories: in devotion (Allah Tero Naam), in love, in sadness, in laughter: to live on as a song, how beautiful is that.
And finally as a tribute, an old haiku of mine:
this song that plays
i haven't left this place
yet am not here
In Musing Mode is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License.
