When music bridged cultures

There was a time when we could enjoy music from a language and faith different from our own without censure.

ONE of the saddest episodes in recent upheavals to me was the “kuil haram” issue, with all its painful social, religious and political connotations.

This is all such a long way from the time when every kenduri I attended would have Hindi songs playing, as well as the hits of hugely popular Penang-bred band Alleycats (for those too young to know, the band comprised Indian and Chinese members, and most of their songs were in Malay).

I remember those days when there was nothing wrong with saying your favourite songs were Hindi numbers, your go-to band was the Alleycats and your fave singer was Punjabi legend DJ Dave (of Maafkanlah and Menjelang Hari Raya fame) – even if you were Malay.

The first Hindi movie that I watched was in 1971, when my father took the whole family to watch the famed Haathi Mere Saathi (O Elephant, My Companion) at the Cathay Cinema in Butterworth, Penang, close to our police barracks home.

Even my disabled brother came along, carried by my father into the cinema.

The hit song from the movie, Chaal-Chaal Mere Saathi, would play at all the kenduri in the 1970s until the movie Yaadon Ki Baraat (Procession of Memories) took centrestage. I watched that movie with my friends a few years later at the same cinema.

The story about three brothers who were separated after the murder of their parents and how they found each other moved many to tears and joy.

The soundtrack of Yaadon Ki Baraat, and later that of Aa Gale Lag Jaa (Come, Embrace Me), were practically mandatory at wedding kenduri then.

My favourite movie of the three was – and still is at all times – Aa Gale Lag Jaa.

And I can still mimick some of the songs from Yaadon Ki Baraat, like the haunting Chura Liya Hai Tumne Jo Dil Ko, even though I don’t understand the meaning of the words.

Despite the lack of understanding, the songs lifted hearts and filled the soul with contentment.

By far, all the songs from Aa Gale Lag Jaa were and still are precious to me, as is the story about the father and his disabled son left alone in the world to fend for themselves and find the love of a mother and wife.

The song Aye Mere Bete never fails to make my heart ache and bring tears to my eyes, especially once I became a husband and father. Tere Mujhse was of course the preferred choice for wedding celebrations as it tells of blossoming love, from what I understood from the scenes. I mean, who needs words and meaning when the rhythm and sound touch your soul and heart.

I did not know much about non-movie songs popular at the time and depended on Rosman – who was a year older than me but who I called “nephew” anyway – to keep me updated.

He was the one who had money to spend on new cassettes, which he would play at night at the ais kacang stall by the roadside at our Kampung Pasir Sambongan home in Kamunting, Perak.

All the songs from Abba, the Bee Gees, Boney M, Black Dog Bone, and yes, the Alleycats, that I heard were from his collection.

The Alleycats were a phenomenon in the 1970s. All their hits were played over and over on the radio till you could recite the lyrics from memory. Their haunting numbers, like Hingga Akhir Nanti, Jika Kau Bercinta Lagi and Andainya Aku Pergi Dulu were the songs in the hearts of young adults and teenagers at the time.

The fact that the singers were non-Malay made no difference at all. There was no division or hatred between Hindus and Muslims then, as all embraced the same songs and music.

It is difficult now to hear any Hindi songs or Indian singers gracing Malay weddings or the mainstream air waves.

But I still enjoy the newer movies of the end of the 20th century and early 21st, like Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (Something Happens, 1998), Mohabbatein (Romances, 2000), and Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (Sometimes Happiness, Sometimes Sadness, 2001).

During the Reformasi political movement in the early 2000s, when street demonstrations happened often as the fight for institutional reform grew, Mohab-batein’s theme song gained a foothold, perhaps because it may be one of the most haunting songs of the century.

The songs from movies like Kuch Kuch Hota Hai are joyful and lighthearted but none can compare to the soulful Mohab-batein.

As I recently downloaded that song into my pen drive (I am still not a Bluetooth guy), I thought to myself, if one can enjoy the songs of a culture and faith different from one’s own, without ever understanding the meaning of the verses, there may yet be hope for our nation and the world in the midst of the hatred and digital nonsense that presently rule our lives.

Prof Dr Mohd Tajuddin Mohd Rasdi is Professor of Architecture at the Tan Sri Omar Centre for Science, Technology and Innovation Policy Studies at UCSI University. The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.