The Evening Before Knopfler’s Night

Knopfler is on about the Christmas dance, Mr. McIntyre, and the fat girl that got left at the side. I am trying to relate to that song. I cannot. I don’t dance. Never have. At least not a dance that has a name and followers, anyway.

Tonight’s Knopfler Night, as I have called it. His voice doesn’t need your ears, it reaches straight into the heart. I have invited a few friends to share this voice. No one has accepted the invitation as yet. It will be an hour before I clear this damned traffic, hopefully some will have accepted by then. Unless they are in this same damned traffic.

Traffic has become a solace nowadays. It’s the place to be, yet be nowhere. Feels like Ruby Tuesday again, on a Friday. The abstract expression escapes me, however. Finding a romantic expression in dreadful situation is losing its romance.

Knopfler is saying something about the selves of books and the picture hooks and everything that is gone, but the heart, that still hangs on.

This is what they mean, perhaps, about being alone in a crowd. I never knew if it was supposed to be a good thing or a bad one. But I could get used to it. It’s almost an hour to yourself. Not having a driver is even better. You cannot fiddle and play with the phone or read a book. It is a complete escape. Zombie-like, sticking to one lane, thinking of Seth Godin’s Dip, it is almost like being in a train, with a car to yourself.

Knopfler is now claiming that he will get to where he will be eventually, while wondering if there is no forever, all the while insisting that true love will never fade.


3 thoughts on “The Evening Before Knopfler’s Night

  1. Hmm… I can’t but wonder, how can you possibly think of anything but the traffic itself, let alone reflect on Seth Godin and his gyaan? Either you multitask really well or the traffic had probably all of halted when this happened. Someone or something seems to be waiting to ambush your road equilibrium just as you are settling down in the driver’s seat – an alighting passenger from a bus, an auto that can’t do the upslope quite as well as your sedan can, a dog ambling out of its under-chassis slumber, a boulder that appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the road (you could swear it wasn’t there in the morning!) or God forbid, a kid in school uniform practising cricket spins!! – Do you not face that? When do you actually have the vacation to sit back and wonder, Atul?


    • I don’t have a vacation to sit back and wonder, SR. That seems like a far-off, almost unreal luxury. Funnily enough, today’s hour-long theme was “Dil Dhoondta Hai”, playing in a loop. I had even stopped wondering about those days and nights of leisure, till this song reminded me – and I did remember – there was a time when I had time – the most valuable currency of all.

      I keep my equilibrium by just staying in one lane and not worry about getting home five minutes earlier if I change lanes five times. That gives me time, I suppose. I wonder, if that’s how I fudge my time ledger.

      Thank you!


  2. Pingback: A Year in Posts « Gaizabonts

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