MJ Re-discovered

The automated sliding doors of the metro closed behind me with a whoosh! I just made it to the 8:45 am train to office. Inspite of the weather bureau’s assurance that the monsoon was going to hit anytime now, it still felt muggy and humid as ever. My cell beeped. It was Y; he had messaged that Michael Jackson was dead – died last night due to cardiac arrest (for once he was ahead of me in following the news). It felt weird – Michael Jackson – the king of pop – no more. By reflex (now it comes automatically) I messaged X, knowing his love for music, I assumed (correctly) he will be kind of heartbroken.

I still remember how we used to dance to his songs after coming back from school, throwing our school bags on the bed and switching on the music system (It was the advantage of having both the parents working. Although it also meant getting scolded each evening for the mess I had created in the room and not finishing homework). Dad had given me his old tape player and it was one of my most prized possessions. There were no CDs and mp3 downloads were unheard of. I used to save all the money I used to get during Diwali, Dusshera, holi, even Christmas (any opportunity to get some money was welcome, as the list was too long to ever get over) by uncles and gran ma and use it to buy cassettes. A major investment was made in buying brand new, shiny and polythene covered cassettes of ‘thriller’. In 80s MTV meant Michael Jackson. We even used to tease our friend Michael Patrick that Michael can never sing and dance as real Michael Jackson can.

My sister and I have spent endless afternoons trying to perfect the moon walking dance step with ‘thriller’ and ‘Black or White’ playing in the background (rewinded again and again). My mother used to love watching his videos, where in one of them, he transforms into coins in front of an Egyptian queen. That was his peak. Then came the child molestation scandal and he faded away.

Like the overused rusty cassettes and old broken tape recorder, his music too disappeared from our lives. His music was replaced by newer boy bands like Backstreet Boys, Boyzone, rediscovered rock bands from my dad’s collection.

Years later, today, when I heard the news, I desperately craved to find my old cassette again. I can’t stand listening to Backstreet Boys again (not meant to be offensive but just the truth), but I can listen to the king of pop anytime. On an impulse I went to Music World and bought all his old songs that I have grown up listening too (now they came in shiny CDs). His death has made his music even more precious… inspite of a tragic personal life, his music, I guess, inspired a whole generation.

Now with his “you are not alone” playing in the background I can’t help thinking like a snake that sheds his old skin for new, we too forget old things for new. Fortunately, some old memories, feelings, people and music linger on- just peeking around the corner to be rediscovered again.

when will I know that I know?

B and I jostled through the crowd at the Esplanade station on Saturday and made our way walking through the pavement towards new market. She had come for a holiday last week and was going today. We had to collect bandle cheese and a tea pot for us before meeting one of her friends – A for lunch. Newmarket in Calcutta (I still like Calcutta much more than Kolkata or Kolkatta) is also one of the few places where you get bandle cheese – a dried smoky flavoured cheese in a shape of ball that need to be immersed in water ten hours prior to eating. It tastes really good though.

The sun and humidity touching 90% was driving me crazy. I could feel a steady trickle of sweat running like a canal from my neck to my back.

“I think if it doesn’t rain today, I will die”, I exclaimed, wiping my dripping forehead with the back of my hand. “Oh! Why doesn’t it rain?”

“Don’t worry. You can sit under the AC once we reach Marco Polo (that’s where we were supposed to meet her friend A for lunch).”

Two hours later, we entered Marco Polo, wet with sweat and almost faint in the heat. A was sitting there at the reserved table. I ignored a twinge of disappointment. I was kind of hoping to meet a handsome, dashing guy who would provide me with ‘eye tonic’ after such a ‘hot-as –hell’ shopping trip! He was more of a next door uncle type that too with a moustache! There went my hopes of a flirty afternoon.

From what I had learned from the background was that A was like a ‘chaddi-buddy’ (can be read as very close friend) of B’s ex and he went on and on about him, oblivious to B’s discomfort. I guess from his talks I could make out that he still thought she was ‘the one’ for his friend. That made me wonder – how do know you know? ‘The one’ that is? If you would have asked me 8-9 years ago, I would have said you know because it’s like a lightening and thunder strike. You just know. I would have also said it was the result of reading soppy romance novels on the sly. But is their really lightening? Or is it more like the rain? You feel it gradually and when it comes, you may or may not be prepared. You may even take the pain of opening your umbrella and avoiding it altogether. And what if you even recognize it, and even get together - will it bring happiness? Or a new set of problems altogether?

When you have a serious crush on someone, you automatically think getting him will solve your problems. Just his kiss on lips on yours or his hug after a long day or waking up beside him makes you forget everything and seems like the solution to the big bad lonely world outside. Who would think that after a while this may not seem enough? The insecurity will creep in, the emotional roller coaster ride will make you go up with giddy pleasure and love and equally low with an inky blue blob of depression. And then when you would want him to take you in his arms and profess maybe undying love and for some marriage, babies- the whole jing bang – its time to give it a second thought baby.

Thinking all this while playing with the rice on my plate, watching B clearly squirm, not wanting to remember her ex, I thought when will I know that I know? Sighing I looked outside the window. It had started raining.