As a kid, my dad
often requested me to sing old Hindi film songs on Mondays. That used
to be his weekly off. Still is. Since nobody else had such
expectations from me, i felt like a rock star. I belted out
sentimental songs from gems like Dosti (1964) and Purab Aur Paschim
(1970). There were other movies too but i don't remember them in
detail anymore. His favourites used to be Jaane walo zara mudke dekho
and Jab zero diya mere Bharat ne—among others. He used to throw his
head back on the chair and close his eyes as if relishing my songs. I
automatically presumed that i'm a good singer. It was only after i
left home to stay in a hostel the reality dawned upon me. One of my
hostel mates even threatened to complain to the dean if i continued
singing while washing my clothes. Another said, “Sing na, i want to
laugh!” No wonder i stopped singing for good! But i did wonder how come my dad enjoyed my singing
like nobody else did. Oh wait, there was nobody else! Only him in
this category. I haven't sung for him in a long, long time now but
i'm sure that he'd still enjoy my voice. Maybe this has something to
do with his affection for old films that helped him a lot in learning
Hindi when he moved (escaped, actually) to Bombay. Or maybe he took
immense pride in my accent-less Hindi. As usual, i don't know for sure nor do i wish to be.
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