Growing Up, Growing Older
So I was just having a quiet dinner by myself at Munchie Monkey, the student-run cafe on campus, a favourite destination for me on days when I feel like having a lovely Primavera, coffee in big cups and time to ruminate, while sitting cross-legged on the ever-so-comfy leather sofas, surrounded by soft toys and huggable cushions. They play fairly good music in general but nothing terribly fascinating. But today, they were playing 90's music and it made me go all nostalgic. In particular, when they played Whigfield's Another Day, I almost jumped out of my skin because it brought back a lot of things to me in a rush.
The album was released in 1994 and Saturday Night was the song. I was in sixth grade when my friends and I, in St. Helena's School, discovered the coolness that was Whigfield and does anybody else, but silly old me, remember that dance sequence to the Saturday Night song? This was back in the days before internet and Google and to know the entire lyrics to an English song was a thing of pride (possible only if you purchased the original album and read through the accompanying booklet of lyrics). I remember that incident, which as funny as it seems in retrospect, was a matter of great infuriation to us 11-year olds - a bunch of classmates who had the complete lyrics to Glenn Medeiros' 'Nothing's Going to Change My Love For You' refused to share it with my group of friends. Evil witches, we called them. It makes me shake my head to think of it now, about that age of innocence, when the biggest misfortune to befell us was the difficulty in gathering lyrics to our favourite music.
Whigfield was my first original English album purchase (Before that, I used to record music off my friends' cassettes. Piracy came naturally to me :P). As an adolescent, giggly gaggle of girls who had just discovered the concepts of puberty, sex, sexuality and non-veg jokes, how we were thrilled at feeling grown up and singing songs such as 'Sexy Eyes'! I cringe and laugh, at the same time :)
And then we grew up, grew apart, internet happened, and the magic of compiling and carefully writing down lyrics to songs faded.
Oh look at me reminiscing about the good ol' days; one would think I am 70, retired and sitting in a park, lost in the past! Just last night, I spouted the virtues of letting go of the remnants from yesterday, but memories such as this - they'll always be a part of me, lurking in the background, waiting to jump on me when I least expect them to.
The album was released in 1994 and Saturday Night was the song. I was in sixth grade when my friends and I, in St. Helena's School, discovered the coolness that was Whigfield and does anybody else, but silly old me, remember that dance sequence to the Saturday Night song? This was back in the days before internet and Google and to know the entire lyrics to an English song was a thing of pride (possible only if you purchased the original album and read through the accompanying booklet of lyrics). I remember that incident, which as funny as it seems in retrospect, was a matter of great infuriation to us 11-year olds - a bunch of classmates who had the complete lyrics to Glenn Medeiros' 'Nothing's Going to Change My Love For You' refused to share it with my group of friends. Evil witches, we called them. It makes me shake my head to think of it now, about that age of innocence, when the biggest misfortune to befell us was the difficulty in gathering lyrics to our favourite music.
Whigfield was my first original English album purchase (Before that, I used to record music off my friends' cassettes. Piracy came naturally to me :P). As an adolescent, giggly gaggle of girls who had just discovered the concepts of puberty, sex, sexuality and non-veg jokes, how we were thrilled at feeling grown up and singing songs such as 'Sexy Eyes'! I cringe and laugh, at the same time :)
And then we grew up, grew apart, internet happened, and the magic of compiling and carefully writing down lyrics to songs faded.
Oh look at me reminiscing about the good ol' days; one would think I am 70, retired and sitting in a park, lost in the past! Just last night, I spouted the virtues of letting go of the remnants from yesterday, but memories such as this - they'll always be a part of me, lurking in the background, waiting to jump on me when I least expect them to.