Tuesday, January 3, 2012
There’s a music shop that has opened down the corner on the first floor of the two storeyed building that has some random shops, like a travel agent, a Xerox shop etc. You go there in the evening with your friend to check out the price of recording songs. You’ve just learnt things like TDK, Sony, Maxell tapes and that they come in 90 and 60 options. Your friend’s got a new mono player in his house, while you’d have preferred a stereo you can’t force his dad to buy what you need so you settle. There are lots of brand new vinyl records with sexy images of women in skimpy clothes, abstract visuals, guys with funky hair style … as you browse and ask if he has the songs you heard on Radio Australia, you hear this rather catchy tune coming on. And you ask him to record this immediately.
It’s a winter morning in the small town which has its own weather system that separates it from the big cities. Water gets real cold without freezing, coconut oil somehow freezes and becomes greasy snow in a bottle, door fronts feature rangolis with pumpkin flowers on cow dung mound, it’s December back home. You look forward to the school half yearly holidays, and soon, in the coming month, there will be a longish break for the harvest festival. As you walk to the bus stop, watching people shiver in the early morning cold which has made some shop keepers sleep a little late in opening the shutters of their shops, the sun breaks through the clouds bringing a brief respite from the biting cold. You try to keep to the slivers of the sun on the ground but it disappears again. Somewhere on a radio this song comes wafting through like the aroma from a gently cooked meal.