The problem with having a blog for ages is that you forget whether you've written about something or not. I guess it is similar to old people (and some young people too) repeating stories and anecdotes over and over as if they've never narrated it before.
Well, in blog years (12 I think) my blog is as old as can be, and so my blog is going to take advantage of its extreme age and repeat itself and you youngsters can nod indulgently and forgive it. Ok? Ok.
I am listening to Sonu Nigam's Deewana album (don't ask why) and it immediately took me back 19 or 20 years to college, when we went on a field trip to, among other places, Darjeeling. So our jeep driver Jojo played this on his stereo when ferrying us up and down. I loved those songs and that, combined with the vistas and the hills and the valleys, it created a very pretty picture in my head.
So, whenever I listen to Deewana, I just don't hear the songs. I see hills, and valleys. I feel the emotions (friendship and independence and excitement) and the resultant effect on my mind and body is much greater than for somebody who just listens to the album for just its musical worth.
And what surprises me is that even after 20 years, that feeling hasn't faded.
A related story: After I got back home, I begged my friend (who said she had the Deewana cassette at home) to lend it to me.
She kept forgetting, and I kept asking every day.
Finally, on my birthday, I asked her again. "I really really want to listen to it again. Did you bring it today at least?"
She said, "Sort of."
I said, "What kind of an answer is that?"
She said, "Please wait."
"It's my birthday," I whined.
In a few minutes, my other friends landed up, and all three of them ceremoniously gave me my birthday present. A neatly wrapped Deewana cassette.
I wore out the tape in a decade. Right now, YouTube is doing the honours.
Well, in blog years (12 I think) my blog is as old as can be, and so my blog is going to take advantage of its extreme age and repeat itself and you youngsters can nod indulgently and forgive it. Ok? Ok.
I am listening to Sonu Nigam's Deewana album (don't ask why) and it immediately took me back 19 or 20 years to college, when we went on a field trip to, among other places, Darjeeling. So our jeep driver Jojo played this on his stereo when ferrying us up and down. I loved those songs and that, combined with the vistas and the hills and the valleys, it created a very pretty picture in my head.
So, whenever I listen to Deewana, I just don't hear the songs. I see hills, and valleys. I feel the emotions (friendship and independence and excitement) and the resultant effect on my mind and body is much greater than for somebody who just listens to the album for just its musical worth.
And what surprises me is that even after 20 years, that feeling hasn't faded.
A related story: After I got back home, I begged my friend (who said she had the Deewana cassette at home) to lend it to me.
She kept forgetting, and I kept asking every day.
Finally, on my birthday, I asked her again. "I really really want to listen to it again. Did you bring it today at least?"
She said, "Sort of."
I said, "What kind of an answer is that?"
She said, "Please wait."
"It's my birthday," I whined.
In a few minutes, my other friends landed up, and all three of them ceremoniously gave me my birthday present. A neatly wrapped Deewana cassette.
I wore out the tape in a decade. Right now, YouTube is doing the honours.
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