Nothing new under the sun
It was the song I was humming all yesterday and today but I wasn’t too keen on listening to it anymore. Song apart, first things first! Certain things we like at the very first go. What happens to them when they start getting older? Anything loses its sheen when it becomes common and overused, it seems.
I have observed this pattern with myself. I desperately look for a new song that has arrested my attention. Mobile, internet, Bluetooth, i-pod and what not, I leave no stone unturned to find it out. Without exaggeration I must confess that I literally want the new song by hook or by crook! Since times immemorial, you never get anything you are looking for desperately for a song. That’s the reason you exploit every possible means to find it out. Yes, it feels so happy when one gets what one wants. You feel it was worth the effort you put in.
Here I am, listening that newfound song umpteen times. I play certain songs at every possible opportunity. After a few days, there comes a point when I wouldn’t want to listen to them anymore. When I conspicuously noticed it, I wondered if it was the same me that was frantically searching for a song and within a few days gave up!
It does happen. There are two ways of looking at things when they are new. We either like them till there is freshness or we aren’t ready to accept them because we haven’t explored them before. It doesn’t stay as much charming as it starts becoming a little common. Haven’t you experienced this?
I was reminded of a Sanskrit stanza, which describes as to what happens when you meet things or people a touch too often. Sandalwood could be rare to urban populace and it may cherish it as rare but for folks staying in a sandalwood forest, it’s fuel. Frequent anyone’s house and you are no more a guest. You will not be greeted with the same hospitality.
At the same time, not many are open to things that are rare. They may scoff at them at the beginning and like them when they are in vogue. They may again scoff then they become common. Like Tennyson says in the poem, The Flower. Here was a flower that the poet planted. Initially, people called it a weed. When the plant grew and stole the show in the garden, many started stealing its seeds. When the flowers bloomed in every household, people again termed the splendid flowers weeds!!
Anything that’s new today is bound to get older tomorrow. Why moan? Bask in the newness but don’t get blinded.