Play it Again Kishore!

"So what kind of music do you like?", the pretty young girl sitting in front of me asked. So far the evening had been a disaster. My credit card had been deemed unacceptable to swipe because of "network" problems and I was completely out of cash. I had managed to spill chocolate sauce on my favorite shirt. So finally here was a chance to impress her and sweep her off her feet. Images of a second date and many more thereafter began flashing through my mind. "Kishore Kumar", I replied confidently quite sure the answer would make me appear irresistibly mature. "Who is that guy? I have never heard of him before! I only listen to Akon and Katy Perry!” came the reply.

I can never quite place a finger on the exact moment when I started listening to "old Hindi songs". It was not a moment of epiphany but somehow a part of my consciousness ever since I can remember. Perhaps it flowed from the love that my parents had for these classics. I grew up singing along to "Lakdi Ki Kathi" and "Eechak Dana" and my mind flashes back to those days of pure innocent fun whenever I hear these golden tunes. For me these tunes have been steady companions accompanying me through life's ups and downs.

Maybe we just live in an age of instant gratification which demands inane lyrics and synthetic tunes. An age where everyone is in a mad race to be ahead. And in this rush we often forget the simple pleasure of tuning into a radio station playing these golden hits on a Sunday Morning and being immersed in melody. So have you ever been on a footboard of a train and listened to "Musafir Hoon Yaaron"? Or wrapped your arms around an equally drunk friend's shoulder and sang along to "Yeh Dosti"? Serenaded a lover with "Dekha Ek Khwab"? Been heartbroken and listened to "Chingari Koi Bhadke"? Then do you not fear that the legacy we leave behind for our future generations are pretty young things who have never heard of Kishore Kumar.

I sometimes think of how easy it would have been to tell her that I too like listening to black gangsters riding on hummers and beach blond divas singing about how they kissed other girls. And then it strikes me that I would have been condemned to listen to that same music and no amount of flashing eyelashes would have saved her from certain homicide. So I sigh deeply, put on my earphones and listen to Kishore Da's "Ek Ladki Bheegi Bhaagi Si" fill up my senses. And I try to convince myself that sometimes, just sometimes things do work out for the best.