Music that I miss
are the songs that I cannot, for the life of me, get the lyrics right. We can only read them in Songhits and music sheets which later became the Multiplex mini book printed in size 6 font. But it didn’t matter. Our eyes were sharp. And eventually, the Karaoke, with a screen that renders our childhood TV set with its cabinet-like sliding doors and knob, antique in its former magnificence. The songs that whisper our secrets and declare our existential thoughts. The ones you sang with me The ones whose lyrics we changed The ones we sat in silence with as the invisible beat throbbed through looks across the room, through bodies swaying to the rhythm of the head and glass shots banging more than the drums. And the silent mornings when a groan from a hangover and a sigh promised more than any love song. The ones that don’t sound good ...