The Playlist That Said More Than He Did...
Ours was an arranged marriage. Before our families introduced us, I had never even heard his name before. From seeing him as a quiet, reserved man and wondering if I was about to marry a complete khadoos, to slowly admiring and being fascinated by him, it was a long journey filled with confusion, assumptions, and emotional gymnastics. At least on my side. To this day, I have no idea what goes on inside that head of his!
In those early days, when everything felt uncertain and I
was stepping into unfamiliar territory, we often went on long drives. We'd find
random spots on the outskirts of the city and sit there for hours, enjoying the
view. One of the first things we discovered was that we both loved escaping the
city without any real destination.
On one of those drives, I told him how obsessed I was with
Prateek Kuhad's Cold/Mess. The song had been on repeat for weeks, and
the singer was quickly becoming a favorite. Since the song wasn't on his pen
drive, I played it from my phone.
A few weeks later, still unsure whether this relationship
was headed toward an epic love story or whether we'd end up like one of those
old married couples who communicate entirely through complaints about the
television volume, I found myself on a wedding-shopping trip with my future
in-laws.
That's when I discovered another side of him: his
unbelievable shyness around his family.
Never before had I witnessed so
many people spend two hours together in such close quarters while maintaining
near-total silence. Not a fight. Not a discussion. Not even small talk. Just
silence.
As someone already nervous about spending time with my
future in-laws, I desperately searched for something familiar to hold on to.
Amid the rising clouds of anxiety in my head and as I felt myself slipping
straight into Vecna's grasp, a familiar song drifted through the speakers:
"When I feel cold, I'll keep you close..."
I looked up.
There it was. Our "long
drive" pen drive!
And there was Cold/Mess….
Not only had he added the song,
but every second or third track seemed to be by Prateek Kuhad.
It wasn't a grand gesture. There were no dramatic
declarations, no movie-worthy moments, and no heartfelt speeches.
Just a playlist.
But somehow, in that silent car
filled with future family, it told me everything I needed to know.
That day, the playlist told me
everything he couldn't.
It wasn't a grand gesture. It
wasn't a love letter, a proposal or even a conversation.
But it was the first time I
realised that behind all that silence, someone had been listening.
As it turns out, he wasn't a khadoos
after all.
Just a man who communicated through small actions instead
of complete sentences!
And that is probably why music has
always felt a little magical to me.
Sometimes, a three-minute song can
say what people struggle to express for months!
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