SPB, always!

So Shivani’s keyboard teacher has started teaching her Anjali Anjali Pushpaanjali for SPB. When Sai heard her, he said that she should listen to his compositions and other beautiful songs, enjoy, then ask the teacher to teach her. He pulled a set from YouTube.

Started with Vannam Konda Vennilavey...

It’s our home ritual to watch a series of music videos on some genre of that day’s interest, before we watch tv during weekends. It was SPB today.

I’ve been pretty busy this last few weeks that I didn’t take any quiet time to listen to SPB songs fully, after he passed away. A song here, a tune there, some of them immediately bringing tears that I would immediately switch it off and take solace at work or some home stuff, or listen in the background while doing something serious.

It was leisurely tonight, I sat cozily in the recliner with coffee and brownies. Slowly tears trickled listening to Vannam but good enough to wipe noiselessly...

Sai told the kids, if you enjoyed this, you definitely should not miss his “Agaram ippo sigaram aachu”. No sooner did I see SPB after the saxophone, I just broke into tears, loud and without control. Everyone looked at me ( come on, it’s been many days since he passed away).

Sai said, “ you first sobbed your heart out for Lady Diana, next is SPB!”. I continued, I mean how to stop?. (Shivani whispered something; they become best friends when it comes to mocking me. Sai said something to the order of, it’s ok, we need to leave her be).

Vyas said, “everyone who’s born has to die. Why do you cry?”. He was very sincere.
I was pretty angry at the poor boy.

By now, we had moved on to “ Sangeetha Jaadhi Mullai “. Sai paused to explain to the kids how IR had created a unique, indigenous Indian equivalent of the Bohemian Rhapsody ( non-repetitive and changing musical genre in every segment, or something like that.) my dried eyes broke out again when SPB came up in his high pitches, and when I stupidly saw the singer character‘s memories when he heard the girl’s chalangai . This time we all towards the last few seconds fell into laughing at the dance steps which looked pretty orchestrated.

We concluded with Poovil Vandu Koodum.
It was beautiful.

How to name it? It’s a feeling. It’s an impact. It’s love. Its the connection. It’s what we grew up with. It’s part of us. We are so lucky to grow up listening to him. Tears are temporary, his voice just lives on. We can rejoice anytime, celebrate his legacy all times. Once again, Wordsworth’s lines that poetry is an expression of powerful feelings that have their source in emotions recollected in tranquility, makes sense. His voice is like poetry to us.