Ours is a residential B-School. Actually the ‘finest residential B-School, if I were to refer to the prospectus. Anyways, concentrate on the word ‘residential’. It means you reside on the campus. In a single room. With two other people.
Anyways, the point of the post is to condone the sad demise of one on my favourite songs. Sigh! To tell a long story short, here goes…
Not long ago, a tamilian (Me), a Bong (Roomie 1) and a Rajasthani (Roomie 2) lived in peaceful coexistence and the only source of debate centered around whether Wentworth Miller should grow some hair. But alas, a day came when the Tamilian’s playlist on her laptop chose to play a tamil track. It was ‘Munbe Vaa’ from the movie ‘Sillunu Oru Kadhal’. Anyways, for the non-tamil folks, this is a melodious track by A R Rahman. So Roomie 1 and Roomie 2 freeze and are mersmerized by the song. If luck would have had its way, the tamilian should have ensured that the track never played again and continued to reside in her playlist forever. But that was not to be.
Roomie 1 and 2 started humming the track in regular intervals. There is a particular line in the song which goes ‘Sundara Maligai’ meaning ‘beautiful jasmine’. But Roomie 1, true to her Bong roots, starts screaming ‘Sunderbani, Sunderbani’ instead. When the tamilian tries to convince her that it is not ‘Sunderbani’ or any other region in West Bengal, she screams back that it does sound exactly like that.
Meanwhile, Roomie 2 who is known for her eccentric music taste ‘read love-songs of any type’, has decided to follow Roomie 1 and has gone ‘Sunderbani, Sunderbani’ too. The tamilian gives up in vain.
And that is how the song started to lose its charm to the tamilian. For at unearthly times, from the eeriest of places, both her roomies would chant ‘Sunderbani, Sunderbani’ at the top of their voices while humming the song so out of tune that Rahman would consider moving out of India.
In a last attempt to salvage the pride of the song, the tamilian scours the internet for the english lyrics of the song and mails them to the roomies. UNESCO’s help is also sought to maintain and retail lyrical culture. But of course, they have better things to do.
The anxious tamilian looks at her roomies in anticipation as they read the mail.
Roomie 1: No….
Roomie 2 : I don’t think so….
Tamilian : What?
Roomie 1: These are not the actual lyrics. They don’t sound like that to me.
(Roomie 1 tries singing her distorted version again. Of course they don’t match with the actual lyrics. Why? Because Roomie 1’s version is NOT tamil, it is gobbledygook.)
Roomie 2 : Yeah, I like what I sing…It matches to what I understand of it.
Tamilian : Of course it doesn’t! You don’t know Tamil!
But no amount of despair or agitation works. And the song breathes its last sigh in the playlist of the tamilian as she decides to give it a miss after listening to the distorted version by her roomies.
And that is how, the song has gone missing from my playlist. Meanwhile my roomies are planning to acquaint me with some of their favourite songs like ‘Tuuuu’ by Sonu Nigam and ‘Ay hay Ay hay hay’ from ‘God tussi great ho!’. Hmm…where are those earplugs now?