Dubious Moves

When the party ended, someone asked for (and got) the collection: it wasn’t in my normal-playing list anyway. As is sadly far too common, the collection changed hands and eventually I lost track of it. But over the years, at random times, I would remember that song. Occasionally, I would hunt frantically at music outlets in different cities for that collection, only to be disappointed.

I didn’t even remember the song; a vague recollection of the tune, and the theme of the song was all that remained. The collection itself went out of issue, and searching the song online was of course useless, since the lyrics were hazy. At odd points in time, from some unknown artesian pool, the idea would bubble up to the surface of consciousness, and I would think about it.

Songs and poetry and books : there is something about them that transcends their mere content. The most banal of songs, the tritest lines of poetry: they turn out to be pegs on which memories of times and places and people hang. And from the form and substance of those lines, the mind conjures up those associations every time you think of them. Even if subconsciously, so that one is sometimes embarrassed at a public reaction to what might appear nothing out of the ordinary to someone else.

And the best part of it is when Serendipity lands us, as it did me recently, onto a lost link. My own knowledge of music is rather limited; but a passion for it makes me seek out people with far greater scope. I was discussing music with one such person, and suddenly the nothingness of a long distance conversation coalesced into notes that were so familiar that I was thrilled. Of course, at these times, one is careful to be politely thankful and say “Ohhh, this song, please do send”. For as said, what is a set of associations for one is probably just another piece of music for another.

I haven’t got the song yet. No matter, it will come . As someone said, we shall listen, and be thankful to whichever God was on shift at that time.