Music has always been my best friend. Although I listen to all kinds of music, Bollywood songs that have soulful lyrics, old or new have always found their way into my heart and mind's radio. They play along somewhere in the back of my head all day long through everything I do.
Driving to work and back with music playing, what I miss the most is probably the radio stations back home. They always remind me of a time in my life that embodied freedom, a sense of accomplishment and just free spirited living. I loved that phase of my life. The stations as I listen to them today, online, across the globe, always give me the same constant picture of a day in those times.
It's always a sunny bright morning that I wake up into, hot cup of coffee, feet on the window sill, morning news paper - it's smell, crispness, the ink ; the warmth of the sun across a light shawl that covers me; the scent of the earth wet from watering the plants; wift of smoke from somewhere far; the sound of bells of the milkman's cycle, the crinkle of the anklets of all the female employees of the housing complex, dressed pretty in bright colors and smell of jasmine as they walk past. As I read less of the newspaper and watch all that goes on outside that window I realize that time is running and I need to get to college. The sound of the RJ announcing the days theme, as water hits me at a refreshing pace, the songs that play and make me want to dance and just play in the water, the beats of a song I bob along with trying to figure what to wear and get dressed for the day. A light banter between songs as I sit and have hot, fresh mom made breakfast and discuss the absolutely inconsequential topic with mom. Sitting in an a/c car, watching the tree lined roads of B'lore, while Murthy negotiates traffic and worries about getting me to college on time - still listening to the station. By now, I already have a set mood for the day without my knowledge. As I get to work for the day with no more music - all the banter, the discussion, the random people calling with their opinions, my opinion on matters, the trying to recollect songs - the details of their lyrics, singer, film and all else keeps running through my head, until I hear the station again during lunch at the canteen with friends by my side. And the days would just go by hence. There was always radio and it always felt warm.
As I miss the warmth of home, although home in an alien land, I play my station and sit back to let the feeling set in. And it never fails me. As I listened to the station one more day, the RJ asked if her listeners have ever felt that a dream should just stay a dream. And if so- why.
I thought about it and realised, I do. A lot of dreams, I always would want them to remain dreams. Reality would adulterate the purity of the feeling I derive from them. Reality would just end the streak of possibilities of these dreams. It would give a definitive picture and feel to the moment and take away the potential to live it in different ways. The definitive feel may not be anything close to what I desired out of the moment. In my dream, these moments are always perfect. I can live them in a hundred ways and better each experience with tweaking every detail of the dream.
Yes, I want some dreams to always remain dreams and yes I'm glad some of my dreams have remained just what they should be - dreams.
