If I could then, I would've been making self love easily accessible for the needy!
̶̶̶̶̶̶̶̶̶̶ ̶̶̶̶̶̶̶ - !
House, the calm ends of shores, The shop floats on the ebbs, but still stays by the shore. Whatever a person needs for self-love is served. Potions made of some crumbled old pages, that once preserved roses. Soups of charm, luck and courage.
Every soul sings about its long lost love, they collide with each other and leave together. Fantasy lives in their mind, that's why they can't realise the reality. Sanguinity is too slippery for them to stand on it.
Wearing plethora of metaphors, many decent souls walk past my shop. Some metaphors were shining like diamonds, while others were burning like fire, Wandering like some ships in the night, those stars, swim across the sky alone together.
/ Every corner of their brains has witnessed love, That their hearts failed to preserve. /
candied eyes with cacophonous voices were kept apart in a jar, they weren't bought by any. while sour souls + sweet potions were taken, planted in pots filled with stardust, potions poured little every night, made them to bloom.
I can see your shadow on the clouds. witnessing that thorns bore a bloom, don't get swayed by (love in) the air, self-love ain't selflessly wandering in air.
/But, bitter coffee and its aroma can make you feel better. Savouring favourite delicacies with lovely music can help you. Following the sunshine can help you. Travelling with the rains can help you bloom again./
Love for oneself can't be bought by someone and poured. Get it yourself.
I often fabricate fantasies about places I wish to live in. A town, seldom visited by any being, where seasons could be discerned by their own distinct beauty, leaves carelessly slipping from faint wintry air. Unlike me, cautiously walking on slippery streets after a sudden downpour, consequence of an undefined dull weather. Panting under the rushed skies, my chest demanded a slow exhale ; eyes, a lively tranquility and ears craved a hush.
So, I looked around the busy street, often overlooked by me. And after a much easier gait, suddenly the flickering street lamps were more like gleaming celestial bodies floating admist the cosmos, but nearer. Hollers of those mid-aged vendors calling out customers were now some parent passionately singing rhymes of their well-off, sweet, shiny mouth-watering fruits and vegetables grown under their nurture. And the street went to a much softer pace, a place I wished for, was just a fantasy away. Wandering on the street, my shoulders collided with strangers alike, but they didn't care, maybe because they are lost in their own fantasies.
A lot of my favorites were passed on to me by Bro. From football team to films, he liked and I simply copied. Hence My favorite films growing were Maine Pyaar kiya ft.Pigeon postmaster and Hum Aapke hai Kaun ft.Tumbling sister in law. One among the few DVDs we owned and hence ended up re-watching the musicals quite a few times in absence of Dish showing Indian entertainment in RSA.Still life was Jhingalala.
My favorite part of these movies was understandably the songs, they are still not dated; Only part of those movies to still seem evergreen, along side Mohnish Behl who doesn't seem to age.A big reason why that is so, was because the voice behind those songs. As a Kid I thought it was Salman Khan who actually sings but turned out Bhai hadn't autotuned in the 90s.
SPB or SP Balasubramaniam, another gem claimed by the pandemic last week ; was the voice behind these films, From Didi tera dewar deewana to Aaja Shaam hone aayi, Salman was SP and SP was Salman.
Rare is an Indian artist, who collides against boundaries and grows beyond the restrictions of one language, and rarest was SPB who didn't only grew but ruled at one point of time across 5 industries.
But as is expected from tallest talents,the stories that are tumbling out after his passing away, are about his humility and not just ability.41000 songs,Multiple national awards, a loyal fan base across the nation and all the Man believed he was,is a devotee of the Music gods.Vidya Vinayen shobhte i.e intelligence suits the humble is a favorite mum quote and SPB lived that. Success is slippery slope for an upright character,but he navigated that with characteristic humility and dignity.
To tell the truth,I'm lost.How do I pay a tribute to this giant and the void he leaves behind? So I'll do what I and many others do with voids, let music fill it or atleast paper over the cracks.Let music lead me to a fantasy world where a gem like SPB lives on forever.
Alexa play Mere rang main rangnewali for the umpteenth time.
P.S Favorite SPB songs in no order except rank 1 1)Hum na samjhe they Aate Jaate Chennai express Dhiktana Dhiktana Aaja Shaam hone aayi Joote do Paise lo Saathiya Tune Kya kiya