Last year, I was at an A.R Rahman concert in Atlanta. Every time he sang a 90s song, the crowd lost its mind. Most of the audience were millennials, and watching them sing along, I realized these aren't just songs. They are time machines. Each one carrying an entire childhood/past inside it.
When I was around 8, our family went on a road trip to visit the temples of Tamil Nadu. Packed into a Maruti-800 hatchback was my mom, aunt, uncle, grandma, two cousins, my sister, and me. My dad couldn't make it because of work. How we all fit into a small car is a question best left unanswered. The car had one cassette- the soundtrack of the Tamil movie Indian. Those songs played on a loop for the entire trip.
On that trip, the songs were quietly weaving themselves into my memory.
"Pachai Kiligal" in particular became inseparable from that journey. The song speaks about the joy of family, and there I was, hearing it on repeat, surrounded by mine. Now, every time that song plays, I'm instantly back in that car. The background score of the song also has this way of creating an imaginary lush green field, and for a moment I'm in all places at once - the car, green fields and the present.
Here's what I keep thinking about: when a composer creates a song, there is only one version. But over time, in the minds of thousands of listeners, countless other versions come into existence. Each fan carries their own private connection - a unique mix of emotion, memory, and meaning. What the song becomes, depends on so many things. The moment you first heard it. What you were living through at the time. Who was beside you. Were you happy or sad. A song that was heard during a happy chapter can turn bittersweet if the people in that memory are no longer around. The melody stays the same, but grief adds its own undertone. For Indian movie songs especially, there's another layer: the scene it was born in. Take Vellai Pookal for example - to an outsider, it might sound like a gentle, pretty number. But for those who've seen the film, that song carries the exhale of an entire war. The peace it represents isn't just heard, it is felt.
Thus, music doesn't belong to just its creator. It becomes everyone’s.
So the next time you hear a song for the first time - remember you’re starting to paint your own version on an empty canvas.
What are some such special songs for you?
