How does interest in music develop? When? It’s difficult to pinpoint for anyone. In my era, blaring loudspeakers playing songs were very common. With those kinds of decibel levels, every ear was forced to hear. Through these auditory pathways, the sound inevitably reached the brain. But what sort of impact did it have there? Individuals respond differently. Some take a liking to instruments, some to the melody and composition, and some even to the lyrics. Very rarely, to some, it becomes a nuisance.

Come to think of it, when the mood is good and the body and mind are relaxed, music feels fulfilling, blissful, like honey. The lyrics sound so profound, the melody so soothing, and the instruments so calming. But when angry, the reaction could be, “Shut that down!” The sound of the instruments feels piercing, and the voice scratchy. During sad or melancholic moods, a soft song is like a soothing balm. The same music, the same instruments, and the same sound—how we receive it changes with our state of mind.

In the early 1950s, many songs had patriotic overtones, nation-building themes, or simply emphasized God and His mercy. I was four or five years old. The first song that flashes into my memory is one about God, “Tu Pyar Ka Sagar Hai.” I might have heard it only a few times, but the first couple of lines stuck with me. I still remember them. The songs of those days were melodious with very few accompanying instruments, and the lyrics were always rich. Perhaps this song spurred my interest in music.

Radios were prized possessions back then. Very few people had them, mostly the wealthy. Paharganj, my birthplace, never even saw a radio at that time.

It’s quite possible that my eyes did not get the benefit of viewing the lovely presence of a radio until I was nine or so. One of our neighbors in Sarojini Nagar had a radio, and those radios were huge—some the size of early televisions.

In the Government quarters, popularly known as such, the cooking oven, or whatever it was called, was made of mud, I think, and always constructed on the floor of the kitchen. Ladies had to sit and cook, with no luxury of standing. Coal or firewood served as fuels. When cooked on these, the food tasted distinctly good. Many residents, while getting these wonderful ovens repaired, would ask the mason (if that’s the right term) to make the outer side of the oven resemble a radio, complete with dials and knobs. This was the first pseudo-radio we had and was a source of immense pleasure.

Slowly, some of the other apartment dwellers got their own radios, and pride was written large on the faces of all the family members.

And then came the Binaca Geetmala, which, at least for me, changed my musical leanings.

To be continued... 46 - Part 2.