Four months ago, one of my friends from Pune sent me a play list of old Hindi songs. Born and brought up in Mysuru, training in Karnatak music, the only ones I knew were the ones Bombay Jayashri sang in an innovative concert years ago. My senses were not yet woken to the music of yesteryear cinema. This play list was, in all ways, an initiation. These songs seemed like fresh air, sweeping me off my feet with a sedate pace, rich essence in simple lyrics and soft tunes.
Two days later, I watched Parshva Sangeetha. Life in that era — the era of those Hindi songs — seemed no different from ours, in terms of the possibilities of human emotion (maybe, that’s also why the play works), but what is significantly different is the influence film music yields on the daily affairs of the common folk. Parshva Sangeetha captures that.
