We listen to classical music these days in the car, my daughter and I. For a precocious 3-1/2 year old, she gets very quiet when the music comes on. Usually, its about what mommy said, or patti (grandma) said, and what she did in school the previous day. Some days, its “Look there’s a green buggy! Punch!! Now show me a pink buggy”. Other days, we play “I spy a dog in a red car”. These days, we sit and listen intently as the symphonies of Mozart and Beethoven waft through the wheezing speakers.
I am sure she will forget these moments in a hurry as she grows up in a hurry. Soon, the songs will be of the likes of Brittany Spears, with their “Belly Buttons” and other danceable music. But I relish these moments the most. Just today, the little one had put her quite a struggle with her breakfast, and left in a bad mood. I tried talking to her, but to no response. For 10 minutes, she sat in silence brooding in her seat. The last 2 minutes of the trip, as the car idled at the light, a more light-hearted flute concerto Mozart piece began. I kid you not, the mood lightened up instantaneously; like a window opened in a dark room letting in the sun. Somewhere in the little brain, something clicked with the music, lifting her spirits up. She piped up, her mood elevated, “Do you like my shoes Appa?”
I thought about the half hour I had spent in a mall in Gurgaon, picking a CD to bring home, a few months ago. It was a 5-CD collection. I have no clue about the music, but had liked the sound of it. I had envisioned a scene, where we would be in the car enjoying the music, a little father-daughter audience to the masters’ music. Today, it happened. Worth every rupee I spent.
