Five-year-olds can be tortuous, at times. If they set their hearts on something, they can wail until they finally get it. I was one such kid. She would sing the song to me when I was inconsolable. She would soothe me with the song. Strains of which managed to elude me for many years afterwards. A language that was alien to me, then. The lyrics that did not make much sense to me. But it did calm me.
Years later, when, one hot April afternoon I first saw my ten-month-old niece, she whimpered. I took her in my arms and held her close to me. Out of instinct, I began humming a song for her. The long forgotten song came alive once more. As I sat down and made her lie against my body, and as I struggled with the long-forgotten lyrics, I remembered her.
Sometimes, all it takes is a strain of a lost song to rush back a lifetime for you.
All that we have dismissed to have forgotten are never lost forever.
*I am deeply grateful to Jo’s songs for giving my song back, today.