Old Songs and Old Books

Childhood is a strange thing. It makes us think crazy stuff is cool and makes us like things because the "cool" kids like them. Then it totally drops a heavy veil over the memories, so that all you remember once you are grown (I admit many people I know don't give me that credit, yet), all you remember is how great something was, how much fun you had doing that thing or some such. You do not for the life of you, remember all the trials and tribuations you faced to get the nice things - All you remember are the nice parts. The bad memories are conveniently blotted over and there are none but the jolly ones left. All this is convenient and perfect till you happen to confront by coincidence or by choice one of your childhood icons and lo, the fairy was really a witch, after all.

What I really mean to say by all the above is that "Little Women" was one of my favorite books when I was young. All I remembered about the book was how much I loved the characters, the story - how it was made into a successful Hindi serial (Kachhi Dhoop) and how I wanted to be Alka/Meg/Bhagyashree all my life. I just read the book again - I am glad my wish was not granted. The girls in the book are wimps marrying old coots (for love, not money, my Dear) and settling for lives of cooking, cleaning and raising kids. The supposedly independent Jo is ultimately "cured" of her independence and marries a man old enough to be her father, because she is lonely and would love for her father to have a peer to talk to...Pardon me while I go throw up. This is crap. Meg, my idol, "falls in love" with a man, just because he happened to be the first older (by older, I mean really older) man to look at her "lovingly" and because she was "teased" about him being in love with her. She was seventeen when she made up her mind, for God's sake.

Overall, the book was a colossal disappointment. The author is carelessly racist about Irish and Black people - obsequiously in love with the Europeans and a preacher to boot. Every other paragraph in the book is a speech made by one of the girls or Marmee (as their mom is called) - sermonizing about "womanliness" and "properness" and all that crap. I have read some other books that I liked as a kid - the first example that comes to mind is, of course, Agatha Christie (thanks, Anne, I am forever greatful to you for introducing her to me), and she still rocks. I still read her books and enjoy them immensely. I guess romances are not meant to age....

Ok, and about the old songs, I also love old songs because I can listen them regardless of how many times I have already heard them, because they are beautiful. These songs have really withstood the test of time and still tug at the heartstrings and calm the mind and make you fell good. It doesn't matter if I am sad, mad or happy - these songs enhance my happiness and halve my sorrows. What a contrast to what disappointment so many old books bring upon us!