Music outside my window

“Do you know any Kannada songs?” This was a question put to me by my Kannada teacher.

The answer was yes, I know many Kannada songs. “Which ones?” she then asked.

How to tell her which songs I know? I have no clue of their titles, don’t understand the lyrics (apart from a few words) and am completely unfamiliar with the popular singers or Kannada movies.

So the only way to let her know which songs I’m familiar with was to hum them and insert the random words I recognise.

So it went something like this: “Ninindale, ninindale, la la la la la la la agide…”

Then there’s that one that’s a duet, with a man and a woman singing, that goes: “Kariya, I love you… la la la la la la la...”

“How do you know all these songs?!” was her reaction. This question surprised me almost as much as the time she asked me how is it that I have Indian friends. I think she thinks I don’t get out of the house much.

How can I not know these songs? I hear them on the street, in shops, on the bus, in auto-rickshaws and taxis, and whenever a mobile phone rings. I don’t even have to leave the house to hear them. I hear the music from my window: from a parked car or the gym on the main road, and every time there’s some kind of habba going on in the neighbourhood.

With very little difficulty, I found these five Kannada hits on YouTube. I tested my husband’s Kannada song knowledge and he scored 4 out of 5.

So here, for your listening pleasure, is the soundtrack to my life in Bangalore: