Moudja, Souad Massi

I have shared this song with a few people now. I can actually count them on just one hand, in fact. Mirat first gave it to me. Back then it sent shivers down my spine. What's strange is that it's been over two years and the song still has the said effect. Goosebumps.

The song begins with the sound of waves crashing. A sound that created such a lasting image in my mind that for the longest time I harboured the wish for a tattoo of the same design. It's what Bombay had come to mean to me. But the song transcends any place or person, or episode.

When I close my eyes and play the song, the sea, the stars, the longing and tears, all come flooding back. And no, it is not even a melancholy song. It is a song that asks for permission. To love. And not on some whim, but the strong reason, that with that man alone, the feeling is of talking to the impossible - the impossibly far away, the impossibly unreachable.

Some day, I'd like to be able to vocalise it myself. For now, I am happy I have it on my iPod for every possible time of day, season of year.

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