By Mridula Chaudhari
When my husband proposed to me, I readily said, 'I do'! What drew me to him that time was his love for music, specially the old Hindi film songs. When I learnt about his passion for Hindi film songs, I conveniently concurred that he was an overtly romantic fella. I was not so much impressed by his qualifications (he is a Chartered Accountant) as I was smitten by his passion for music. Romance was very much in the air, I considered him to be a music fanatic.
I could visualize myself running around trees like Asha Parekh with Shammi Kapoor following her. But alas! My hubby darling was too preoccupied with his ‘numbers’ than fishing for my dupatta in the woods. His office was utterly important and I kept wondering where all that love for romantic songs of 60s and 70s disappeared.
We both got engrossed with our careers and home until one day when his love for music resurfaced. He would begin his day with vividh bharati and the music system would blare at the top of its voice in our house, so much so that if I had to talk to him I had to lower the volume considerably. As I would approach the remote to lower the volume, he would frisk it from my hands and signal me to talk later. Mohammad Rafi was too important a person in his life than his own wife.
This music could be heard by the neighbours as well. While leaving for office, one of the sugar coated neighbor would come up to him and say, “You have such a lovely collection of songs. I love listening to them early in the morning”. Next day the volume of the music player was even higher for our neighbor’s convenience.
By now even the children had forgotten the music of their own generation. Asha, Rafi and Lata were their Sunidhi Chuahan, Sonu Nigam and Shrya Ghoshal. Their weekend morning sleep was very musical. They got up humming ‘Dill deke dekho, dil deke dekho, dil deke dekho ji’ or ‘Ankhon me kya ji…’ very early in the morning.
One day in pursuit of cleaning the house, I chucked some papers which I thought were trash. Within an hour hubby darling came to me with a concerned look, “I had kept some important papers on the bed and I can’t find them there. Have you noticed them anywhere? They were very important”. I panicked. I thought I had chucked some of his really important office stuff. “I am sorry darling,” I apologized earnestly, “I thought they were not of any use hence I threw them in the dustbin some time back. But don’t worry I chucked them in the bin meant for dry trash so I think I will be able to retrieve them. What was so important about them?” I enquired. “I had written the name of music director of the song, ‘Yeh dil diwana hai’.
Thinking that my husband is really ‘diwana’, I simply walked away from there. I did not care to find out whether he retrieved the pages from the bin or not.
If he is so passionate about his music, I thought I should be equally passionate about something and that was reading. I decided to read at least for two hours every evening. I bought few books of my interest. One evening my dear husband also came around with a management book and sat next to me, reading. Thinking that finally I was able to pursue my own passion as well, I opened the first chapter of my book. Just then he said, “Let’s listen to OP Nayyar while reading. It will be so much fun”. When he said this he was so excited that I did not have the heart to disappoint him. The song began, ‘Jata kahan hai diwane, sab kuch yahan hai sanam…..’ Needless to say, I could not read the chapter beyond the first word.
Now I don’t read any books when he is around. I simply enjoy the music. Our wi-fi connection is permanently downgraded due to continuous downloads from ganabajna.com or some similar website, the house is cluttered with CDs lying all around and he has just now messaged us on our family group, “Can Somebody order a 320GB HDD for me urgently on Amazon?” Amazing, is he not?
Long live his love for Indian film music!!!