Ennullil Engo

The song didn’t get much airtime, or at least you don’t remember hearing it much on the radio. But you do remember when it slipped under your skin, almost unnoticed, and stayed there. It was at the exhibition they held on the local fair ground. It was the usual affair with candy floss and deep fried pappads, various stalls selling assorted things. For some reason there is tent for medical college people and you enter, fighting the urge to turn around. There is a smell, an odd decaying smell, and you see a corpse there, and they have dissected the body and med students are explaining the parts. There is a morbid interest in seeing what you are made of, and you hang around for a few minutes and finally, good sense prevails, and you step into the open air with the sounds and smells of life. And you hear this song coming from the loudspeakers at the fair. You feel there’s an impending mild danger in the notes, in the flute piece, in the strain of the violins. It haunts you for a long time.