AIR FM! AIR FM! A I R FM!

The absolute worst (and when I say worst, I really do mean the most soul crushing, unbearable) consequence of this lockdown has been the constant abuse on my poor ears. It is never ending. It is absolute and pure irritation. It is exhausting. It is the only thing that makes me helpless. There is no escape. It is my parents love for old songs.

My parents have acquired numerous devices to ensure these old songs never end. NEVER! They employ a brigade of devices (not limiting to) twos transistor, a bluetooth speaker, their mobile phones and special pen drives with songs by Mohammad Rafi, Kishore Kumar, a television and whatnot. It was with extreme efforts and pleas and cries that my elder sister and I were able to dissuade them from buying the Carvaan, the Echo and some weird Lenovo AI. All they want to do is say, “Alexa, please play Raina Beeti Jaye,” aka the saddest, oldest songs there are. Their love for old songs is infinite. Every single morning, old songs be it in the form of bhajaans or even plain Bollywood melodies are played out loud in my home. Without fail. Their morning is incomplete without them. Vividbharti and AIR have a special place in their heart and we dare not question this ritual. It is sacred. The only problem is it interrupts with our messed-up sleep schedule. We once spent an entire day switching the transistor on and off. We lost the battle on account of not willing to be homeless. They will choose old songs over their children. They won’t admit, but trust me they secretly do.

You still don’t believe me? Let me tell you a sweet little anecdote. One fateful night, being thoroughly fed up with this constant onslaught of sadness, I hid the adapter to the transistor and went to sleep thinking I won’t be disturbed in the morning. And guess what? I wasn’t. I was surprised because I had expected them to create a ruckus as soon as they would have discovered the missing adapter. But no. I woke up to find that the replacement was already in the game, without missing a beat. Or rather blaring those sad old beats. That was the day I accepted my complete defeat. No force of nature can stop these depressing tunes. Trust me, I have tried.

Now you may come at me and state that old is good. Those songs were much better than the garbage today’s rappers dish out. I agree. To some extent. Do you think I haven’t had long tiring debates about this with my parents? But to be honest, Honey Singh and Drake have severely weakened my case. Nonetheless, one cannot ignore some serious issues with old songs as well. Like how all these start off with the exact same tune, no matter if it’s a happy one or a sad one. Like there is negligible variation in the music. And the music itself just makes one feel so very sad and sleepy. There is no life in them. It’s just an endless tirade of sad, sad and guess what – sad.

Moving onto more serious issues, these songs are casually racist, sexist and all the -ists one shouldn’t be. Granted some of today’s songs are no different but then why does my parent’s generation live under the belief that old songs are sweet and have no ugliness. I can name several old songs that casually discuss staring at girls, following them, commenting on their clothes, their face colour, their life. Or songs like Bade Miyaan Diwane which elaborate on the steps young men need to follow in order to impress girls. Boys reading this, you’re gonna listen to this song immediately after reading this, aren’t you? Touché.

And not all old songs are bad. I agree. Some are timeless classics that melt your heart and make you believe in the power of innocent love. They transport you to a different world, a simpler one. The soft melody keeps twirling in your mind and keeps you dazed for hours on end. More importantly, one always falls back on the old tunes during a game of Antakshari. Whether you accept the fact or not, it is true. And for me, waking up to these tunes is the thing that I miss the most in my melody-less hostel room now. Every single day.

P.S. Let me know if you sang the title in your head 🙂