From this turn, walk by some lazy paths and a few fast paced ones

When we were kids, my sister listened to Hindi film songs.  Ameen Sayani's "Binaca Geetmala" was a favorite of hers.  She faithfully tuned in and counted down to the number one song.

That is how I got hooked on to the old Hindi songs.  

I then kept going further back in time, and ancient enough to talk about Shamshad Begum's songs with my father!

With barely a couple of Hindi words in my vocabulary, I love those songs for the melodies, and for whatever meaning they give me.  If only I could understand the poetry in some of those lyrics, like how the Tamil ones appealed to me!

Back to my sister.

Once, during her high school years, my sister and her friend, "M," decided to practice singing together a Hindi movie song.  Just for the fun of it.  

She first recorded the song from the radio broadcast in the Telefunken (I think that was the brand name) cassette tape recorder that we had.  The two friends then practiced singing that song, with my brother's help.  

What was his contribution?  My brother had his fingers on the tape recorder--to stop, or rewind, or fast forward the tape on command, so that the two girls could practice.

A few years ago, I asked my brother about the song.  He immediately hummed a tune, which, according to him, was the one that we were all tortured with.  Old as I am, I have promptly forgotten which song it was.

So, why the title of this post?

I borrowed that from an old Hindi song.  It is a statement on life--it is full of twists and turns, with slow walks and desperate runs.  

It turns out that having been a middle child was not a bad deal after all.  I wouldn't have these stories without a sibling ahead of me and another always in a rush to catch up with me.  I owe them thanks for having enriched my life.

Here's one of my favorites from those Binaca Geetmala years.