The Songs That Stay With You
I have often wondered what sets apart a great song from the ones that make you happy, sad, light and heavy all at once. And I have come to the conclusion that while there are countless great songs, the ones that truly resonates with you are the ones that you happened to hear when you were vulnerable, physically or emotionally; when your defenses were low and powerless against a few words and notes, words and notes that cut deep and made/healed scars.
Be it ‘പൂങ്കാറ്റിനോടും കിളികളോടും’ or ‘കൂട്ടിനിളം കിളി കുഞ്ഞാറ്റ കിളി’ or ‘Iris by Goo Goo Dolls’ or ‘A groovy kind of love’ or many others, they instantly bring back vivid memories of a time when I had heard them for the first time.
Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo is one such song that became a favorite for no reason.
It was during a night drive through Veranda Ghat a few months back. Around 9 PM. It was a tiring day at the Raigad fort with the ropeway and the trek and the summer heat. A good 5 hour drive to Pune and I was at the wheel with Tulsi besides me and Mandar & Monali in the back. Veranda ghat after 8 is desolate and you’re lucky if a vehicle passes you every half an hour. The FM had lost signal in the ghat long ago and when the static became too much to bear, Tulsi decided to switch to her playlist. And that is when it came on.
Get Rakesh Ramabhadran’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
Like an unexpected shower that comes pouring in on a sweltering afternoon. Soothing and pleasant, unhurried, irresistible. I didn’t want it to end. But it did and as if on cue, Mandar went, ‘Tulsi, phir se’. And she played it again.
I didn’t understand the lyrics fully then, nor do I do now, but there was so much yearning and loneliness in Farida Khanum’s voice that, somewhere midway through the song, my hand found it’s way from the gear shaft into her hand, already waiting for mine. And when it was finally over, no one spoke. I turned around and spurted out, ‘I wish you guys were a couple too’. Nervous laughter. It didn’t make any sense then why I would say something like that, but looking back, it kind of does.
Maybe I wanted them to feel the warmth that had just washed over me. Maybe I was worried they couldn’t appreciate the song fully if they weren’t. Somehow, I wanted them to feel what Farida did to me.
Itched.
Deep.
Some songs you listen to.
Some songs find you.
If you liked this story, you can read more of my work here: The Acrophobic
