Love in the time of Bollywood-y memories

I woke up with an old favourite ringing on loop in my head today. You know, the kind of repetitive ringing fills your brain with a kind of musical  till you can take it no more and you have to just play the song a couple of times to get it our of your system? That.

Well that coupled by an absurdly off-season rainy day. We have a couple of showers of surprise November Rain some times, but rain half way through December? This is a first.

This track haunted my morning, taking me right back to that dull monsoon afternoon in 2011. To days of hours wasted trying to crack inane headlines to convince people to donate to underprivileged children or buy software I didn’t believe in myself. Hours of dimming my brain under the influence of the creative process circus that was our chosen mode of operation. It took me right back to that moment of discovering it on youtube, in a stuffy room at work, made stuffier still by the constant inability to crack those bleeding headlines. Windows shut, and my brain feeling stifled by the yellow walls that closed us in. Grey, gloomy clouds drifting by outside, the rain pelting down relentlessly, making deep indentations red earth that was the field outside, an undeniable reminder that maybe the whole set-up was such an experiment in futility. The song strangely just fit the scene and I remember listening to it approximately 300 times over a few days before I decided I needed something new.

There was another rainy day when someone played this song on loop. Approximately 82.87 times, I kid you not. It seemed apt and nobody complained for the longest time, even though we were all acutely aware it was the same whiny, pained song played over and over and over. It was raining, and something about the rain makes soppy songs seem okay. Even if its the same one played again and again.

I watched Hasee to Phasee on a cold February night. One of those freaky surprise-shower nights that took everybody by surprise. The lovey-dovey overtures played over several days. I’d wake up, find the youtube track and hit play as soon as I woke up. The song forever reminds me of the scene in the rain where Sidharth Kapoor and Parineeti Chopra are stranded somewhere in the city. And of course it will forever be filed away in the rain song segment of my mind.

Even though this movie turned me off Ranvir Singh for a good long while, this song and the scenes of wispy snow capped mountains, log cabins, lonesome benches, trench coats and mist wafting out of your nose when you breathe in the open, are embedded in my mind. Perfect for dull, grey days when you can close your eyes and, just for a bit, feel like you might be in the hills.

I realise I’ve been dwelling on music and memories of late. I’ve caught myself lost in a wave of nostalgia triggered by  several times. And it makes me wonder if this is just me seeking comfort of some sort? I realise there’s a special place in my heart for that sole soppy song in every other Hindi film. I manage to find it, abuse it, make it mine and stash it away in a dark crevice of my brain. The same place memories like these go to. For easy retrieval. Which is why many of them routinely jump back out, flooding mundane days like today with recollections of all the associations I have. Memories that have dulled with time, rusty frames from the past, images that light up with a flickering spark of life. They refuse to die.

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