On a bright sunny day, Dinesh and I were out in the field for running practice. The world around us seemed completely normal—he wiped his sweat with his elbow, and everything was as it should be. But in that moment, something shifted. His sweat sparkled in the sunlight as he smiled, and I swear, I melted. Suddenly, in the back of my mind, a movie song began to play, and the entire scene transformed. Dinesh, once just a friend, now seemed unusually handsome, and the world around us slowed down. I felt as though I had stepped into a movie, where I was the main character, and everything had become more than just an ordinary moment. It made me wonder: How does music have the power to turn the most mundane moments into something extraordinary?
Some people find movie songs ridiculous, like when a serious scene suddenly shifts to a random snowy mountain with dancers popping up out of nowhere. It feels weird, like the story just stopped for no reason. But when it’s done right, music adds magic. It changes the mood and makes you feel things words can’t. The right song makes a scene unforgettable and keeps the story alive.
For me, it depends on the song. If I like it, the scene clicks. If not, it feels like filler. But smart filmmakers make even slow songs work by keeping the story moving, so the movie never feels stuck.
When I was a child, I had this habit of listening to the same songs on repeat—humming them endlessly like a broken record. Some of those songs, though, were full of double meanings, 18+ lyrics that I didn’t quite get at the time. I’ll admit, there were moments when I realized what I was singing and felt incredibly embarrassed. But then there were other songs I grew to love even more when I finally understood the lyrics. The lyricist’s words were more than just a melody; they lived in that song. They captured the essence of the character’s feelings, often painting those emotions with poetic comparisons. Some even added hidden details that hinted at how the movie might end, making the song feel like a little secret shared with the audience. When I understood the meaning, it made me appreciate the song even more, and I found myself loving it on a whole new level.
“Science says music can activate the same reward centers in the brain as food or love—maybe that’s why we crave it just as deeply.”
I remember watching the climax of Deiva Thirumagal—that emotional moment in the courtroom when Vikram sees his daughter standing at a distance. The background music during that scene quietly touched something in me; it brought tears, even though nothing was being said. I then once muted the scene and watched it again. It felt different—less engaging, almost incomplete. That’s when I realised how much music carries a scene without us even noticing.
"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.”
Even in iconic movies, songs play a huge role—they stay with us long after the credits roll. When you think of Titanic, doesn’t the title track immediately come to mind? That music becomes a part of the film’s memory, helping you feel what the characters felt, even long after the story ends. What touches me deeply is how the musicians on the Titanic kept playing as the ship was sinking. Knowing they were facing certain death, they chose to continue doing what they loved until their last breath. In that choice lies a powerful kind of courage and peace—a reminder that even in the darkest moments, music can be a source of light and strength.
Recently, I watched an interview featuring a few members of a tribal community. In the middle of the conversation, the host played a song for them. They didn’t understand the language, not even a single word. But after listening, they said it felt divine—they felt something stir inside them, something emotional. That moment stayed with me. It made me realise how music has this silent power to reach people beyond words. No matter where we’re from or what language we speak, music finds a way to connect. It doesn’t always need translation; sometimes, it just needs a heart to listen.
“Music is the universal language of mankind.” — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
The old man in Perfect Days lives a life that might seem mundane to most—cleaning toilets, following the same routine day after day, barely speaking. But there’s one thing that adds color to his quiet world: music. He doesn’t chase thrills or loud company; instead, he carries a small collection of old cassette tapes, and every morning, as he drives through Tokyo’s still streets, he plays them with such calm joy. That music becomes his escape, his comfort, maybe even his closest friend. In those few minutes of melodies, it’s like he’s not just surviving—he’s living. You can tell he doesn’t just hear music—he feels it. And somehow, it makes his ordinary days feel a little less lonely and a lot more alive.
Without music, life would be a mistake.” — Friedrich Nietzsche
I have more than 1,000 songs in my playlist, and honestly, I could live happily in this world just with them—no complaints needed. When I find a song I love, I play it on loop until I start to get tired of it, then I move on to the next one. But no matter how many songs I listen to, there are always a few that stay special, no matter how many times I hear them. Those songs become a part of me, like old friends I never want to let go of.
“We all carry a secret playlist stitched into our memories—songs that remind us who we were, and who we’ve become.”
There’s a certain kind of romance that doesn’t need another person—just you, your thoughts, and a song that understands you better than words ever could. Like when I’m jogging, and the rhythm of my feet syncs perfectly with the beat in my ears. Or during long train rides, sitting by the window as rain softly taps against the glass, the world outside blurring into streaks, while a soulful melody plays quietly in the background. It’s in these quiet moments—with a warm cup of coffee in hand and my favourite song whispering gently to me—that I feel most alive, most connected to myself. Music turns these everyday pauses into love letters to life, where I become both the lover and the loved. Though the world outside may be chaotic, inside, everything feels calm and poetic. Honestly, some of these songs understand me better than my (future) lover ever could—they don’t argue, never ghost me, and always show up right when I need them. And unlike with a lover, where sometimes we might grow tired or bored, songs have the beautiful advantage of being many, each one with its own story, mood, and magic. In those moments, I’m never alone—I’m wrapped in the arms of something familiar, something that never fails to make me feel truly seen.
I know this article doesn’t offer some ground-breaking truth you’ve never heard before. But my only intention was to make you fall in love with music a little more—or at least remind you of the magic it holds. And if you’re someone who doesn’t like music, I honestly feel like you’re missing out on one of life’s quietest miracles. Music can be your companion, your comfort, your best friend. It can hold your hand through heartbreak, dance with you during your joy, and sit silently beside you when you just need to breathe. It doesn’t demand much, but gives you everything. It’s one of those rare things in life that’s truly priceless. And maybe, only those who’ve been healed by it, broken with it, or found themselves inside a song will truly understand what I mean.
“Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and life to everything.”