Spice of Life: Striking the right chord in symphony called life

Since the summer vacation is on, a cousin asked me about my holiday plans. I chose to wait before answering that one because all I know for now is that I’m endlessly listening to ‘Chhu kar mere mann ko’ (Yaarana, 1981), ‘Maine tere liye hi saat rang ke sapne’ (Anand, 1971) and ‘Dil dhoondta hai fir wohi’ (Mausam 1975). My intensely revived inclination towards music got validated by a quote I recently came across on social media, “A moment at a piano. A sing in the shower. A weekly choir or band rehearsal. A jam with friends. Creating music on an app. Listening to music in a quiet room. Music is such an outlet for so many people. A release of emotion. A moment of connection. A sanctuary away from it all.”

I remember fondly the childhood times the entire cousin gang used to get together at one or the other homes, and we used to have a bash. Catching up, singing, dancing, leg-pulling, teasing, laughing, counselling… it would encompass everything. Adults used to join in, or get pulled in by us for music-jams and merry-making.

I would sing a bit but haven’t been able to play instruments. My cousins would encourage me no end insisting that the talent for playing musical instruments ran in the family and that I just needed to try and persist. However hard I tried, and persisted, the calibre evaded me. So, I stuck to singing, playing antakshri and cheering others on. Right before my turn for a solo song used to present, I’d start getting butterflies in the stomach and my voice would croak a little mid-way but I’d smile and continue, and the croak would slowly disappear. Applause was always candid. “Apne toh apne hotey hain” (Apne, 2007).

Over time, few singing opportunities have presented themselves, speaking for an unrefined singer like myself. But the wish persists, “Dil hai chhota sa, chhoti si asha… koel ki tarah gaaney ka armaan…” (Roza, 1992). So, when a chance appeared at the workplace for everyone to sing at the Lohri celebration, I prepped myself and crooned, ‘Uthey sabke kadam dekho rum pum pum’ (Baton Baton Mein, 1979).

There are some seasoned singers in both my immediate and extended family, and obviously I can’t be counted strongly in that, but I let my enthusiasm stay alive. One day, it shall be as I desire. Or as a friend said once, ‘Umeed par duniya kaayam hai’.

Music has a high people-connecting potential. Easy to bring up, easy to talk about, easy to enjoy and easy to sustain, thus forging relationships truly and efficiently. While it so desirably brings people together, it also provides the bonus of glimpses into each other’s souls. The way one sings, the tunes one enjoys, the lyrics one is touched by… it can actually help us know each other better.

While I have my to-do lists for summer time, aka rejuvenating cum recharging time (for I need at least a little bit of structure to my free time, too), I’m filling it up with loads of shapeless and unplanned musical hours as well. It’s automatically putting things both into perspective and place.

While my conscience undeniably sings, ‘Gaana mere bas ki baat nahi, sur aur taal kaa saath nahi’ (Astitva, 2000), I yodel, ‘Aa chalke tujhe main leke chaloon’ (Door Gagan Ki Chaaon Mein, 1964).

Music liberates everyone, unconditionally and unquestioningly. So, let life be musical and more musical.

The writer is a Jagadhri-based freelance contributor and can be reached at reemaban@gmail.com