Skip to main content

Don't get lost in heaven

There are things a person can do when presented with a 3-day weekend, one of which is to take an out-of-town trip to some charming spot where the hand of man has never set foot, in an attempt to get away from the daily hubbub of the metropolis. Only, it seems like everyone else and their dogs have the same idea. Ergo, you reach the previously mentioned idyllic paradise only to come face to face with a heaving mass of holidaymakers, many of whom are from your city and, if you are truly jinxed, from the same neighbourhood. It tries the soul, no?

Which is why I find the idea of coming home to Pune a splendid one. Apart from the comforts of home food, regular availability of drinkable tea and coffee and the delight of simply staring out the window, I don't do much. Of course, the pater usually has a list of errands to be run and I'm happy to roll up the sleeves and help out. Every now and then, friends make time and I fire up the old Kinetic and visit them. Basically, it's a steady weekend. However, for the longest time, there's a task I've been meaning to get to but keep postponing for a variety of forgettable reasons. I have wanted to take stock of my collection of music CDs.

In a time when more and more is accessed through the Cloud, audio cassettes and CDs are the musical cenotaphs of my childhood. While I'm sure all of us listen to music, odds are that it would be through a streaming service or MP3s on phones. Heck, most of us have probably gotten rid of dedicated music players at home. Remember those? The fancy ones had double audio tape slots, triple CD changers and Dolby speakers the size of today's side tables. God! Those speakers had some great sound though. And, original albums on discs was how I was exposed to a lot of music as a teenager.

A lot of CDs I owned were gifts. Back when Rs. 400 was a hefty chunk of money, I'd opt for the much-cheaper tapes and wait for birthdays and visits from phoren relatives, when the inevitable gift was a CD which I'd guard with my life, making sure it never fell down or got scratched. Of course, while I waited, there was enough time to make mix tapes of favourite albums and artistes on 60 and 90 minute cassettes. Looking back, it feels like the act of listening to music had so many components, it almost became a sacred rite. Whether it was re-spooling twisted tapes using pencils, discovering lyrics through the detailed sleeves, cleaning the disc surfaces carefully or dusting off the player's lens, there was much to do. Heck, I even had a CD-man, which was a devil to carry around but awesome in its own way.

Does 'easier' automatically mean 'better'? I'll be the first to admit that the act of discovering, getting and listening to music today takes less effort. It doesn't have an iota of charm though. Sure, vinyl-playing elders are bound to scoff and say that CDs could not match up to records in the charm department while their elders would probably shake their heads in disapproval at the sacrilege of listening to recorded music. Basically, this can backpedal forever. So, while it doesn't make any sense to be a Luddite, I was curious about how my collection of CDs was faring.

Also, because it constantly blows my mind to see that the CDs we coveted and hoarded have now become wind-chimes to keep pigeons away (a noble cause, I might add) and the top choice of decorative paraphernalia for autos, taxis and trucks. Think about it.

It got off to a bad start because I couldn't find them anywhere. For a few agonizing hours, I sweated at the thought of my over-generous father giving them all away, which wasn't a wild guess considering historical precedence. Once he'd woken up from his afternoon nap and sipped enough tea to be human again, he indicated that the discs had been packed up and stored in the attic a decade ago. Phew! It took a certain Malkhamb-esque contortion to retrieve them but it was worth the effort to look at those familiar covers again. Some of those CDs must have not been played for at least 20 years so I took a close look at each of them, cleaned the ones with a remotely moldy look and, since life is a cold, unromantic bitch-slap to the face, was forced to test them on my laptop.        

Man, when that long-lost but oh-so-familiar first note-jump happened, it took a mighty bit of self-control to not let my eyes mist over. Talk about a wav file of nostalgia washing over. As it is, I couldn't help flashing back to scenes from my childhood, weird Kodak stills of an ordinary life accompanying every song. I also discovered that handling CDs is like riding a bike. Even while juggling multiple discs, my hands would automatically keep them face-down, my fingers gripping the edges carefully. For a few good hours, I sat on my bed, happily hearing music from my past, thoughtfully dusting out the jackets and wistfully putting the discs back in their cases. Once again, it was a lot of work. Once again, it was worth it.

Songs for the moment:
  • Zombie – The Cranberries / No Need to Argue
  • Something – Beatles / Abbey Road
  • Sparks – Coldplay / Parachutes
  • Politik – Coldplay / A Rush of Blood to the Head
  • Something in the air – Thunderclap Newman / Almost Famous OST
  • Whatever gets you through – John Lennon / The John Lennon Collection
  • Sowing the seeds – Tears for Fears / Tears Roll Down (Greatest Hits 82-92)
  • Shakin’ - Eddie Money / Sound of Money (Greatest Hits)
  • Lucky Star – Madonna / Snatch OST
  • Kids with Guns – Gorillaz / Demon Days
  • Marooned – Pink Floyd / The Division Bell
  • Jailhouse Rock – Elvis Presley / The Essential Collection
  • Sunshine of your love – Cream / The Cream of Clapton
  • Blue Danube Waltz – Strauss / Classical Treasures
  • America – Simon & Garfunkel / Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Let them talk

There is a school of thought that would quite likely be scandalised by the idea of intellectual discussions being held in a pub / bar. Impropriety and what have you. Folks like us (you know who you are) would counter with the notion that our intellectual pursuits occur only in pubs. That's when the cranial creases are watered... doused actually, & whatever is left of our neurons are firing on all cylinders, ablaze thanks to the tipple of choice. Mind you, I'm not advocating that this is the best way. It's just our way. Or my way, if any reader resents the liberty I've taken of assuming anything. Not to keep tottering around the proverbial mulberry bush (why mulberry, I ask), the latest discussion touched on the dichotomy(?) of loving your work. That is, working the week for the sake of the cheque & engaging in your passion during the weekend OR striving to make your passion, your talent or a synonym of your choice the porker from which your bacon is carved. Ri

Many the miles

Some time ago, I decided to cut down on the whining that seems to be a major theme on this blog. After having written a couple of short story posts and one interesting challenge, I found that more commentary on life, its machinations and assorted tomfoolery just did not interest me. For the moment, at least. That also thankfully means that I can't talk about the Indian cricket team's test saga. Anyway, in recent weeks, a new trend has taken root in that fragment of the 'gang' that lives in Pune. Instead of meeting up and hitting the tipple every now and then, we meet and they discuss trekking to various forts in and around Pune. Notice how I'm not in these councils-of-war. Although I've played sports in school and college, I've never been a fan of physical toil. All these talks conjure up are images of waking up at some ungodly hour before sunrise, scooting to some random hill / fort and huffing, puffing, slipping & scrabbling around in near darkness w

The baying of the hounds

Dear reader, The past few months have been punctuated by sound and fury on account of the renovations around the house. The incessant noise, rubble and dust have often led to frayed tempers and the standard indignant inquiries about the point of this whole exercise. But there's a long way to go, so we must persevere... with gritted teeth. Speaking of dust, the Lenovo laptop running Manjaro OS has been quietly gathering sackfuls of the stuff. Unfortunately (but understandably), my Macbook has become the default instrument of distraction, with the Lenovo coming into play whenever I miss USB ports. All sarcasm aside, the Mac is convenient to use and the apps 'just' work. I've praised the Linux ecosystem for years on this blog, so there's no question of indicting them now. But hear me out. I use a VPN service. In this gilded age of freedom and tolerance, I think everyone should opt for a reliable, paid service. It does not have to matter that the things you do on the in