Fairy Dust and Jazz

epilogue

Epilogue

Fairy Dust and Jazz

‘Way beyond measure, hopelessly,

endlessly, so easily, so easily,

 in love with you.’

“And we’re back on the show with Fairy Dust and Jazz with Agni and Nathaniel.”

“Hello there.”

“One big hearty hug to you brilliant folks out there listening!”

“So we stopped after the point where you were telling us about your record deal.”

“Can I tell him about this?”

Chuckle. Smile. “Sure, Agni.”

“We’re looking into another deal actually, so you may actually expect two albums of ours out there very soon! That’s altogether something close to thirty four covers we’ve done the FDAJ way. The full playlist will be up on our website very soon and we may even be looking at another video or two.”

“Only two years you’ve got yourselves four whole albums and over ten million hits on all five of your videos on YouTube. When did you guys start out?”

“Barely three years ago, actually. We met at my pub, the lot of us.”

“Oh, Higginbotham’s was where the magic began, was it?”

“I wouldn’t call it magic.”

“Something says you guys more than believe in magic. Hint, hint, check out their band’s name.”

Laughs.

“What’ll we be hearing from the two of you today?”

“Well, the rest of our band is up at the studio working out some last minute tweaks but...”

“But we decided we just have to share the good news with our fans, and share a good song or two. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“We’ll be singing my absolute favourite.” Squeal. “This was the first song Nathaniel composed for the band.”

“Tell us a little back story, Nathaniel.”

“Nathan, please. And it’s a simple song. It hits straight home every time, and it’s my wife’s ever favourite one, as well.”

“Oh, yes. Is she out there listening?”

“She’s away in the states pursuing her masters in journalism currently, so she won’t be listening in today.”

“She’s who it’s about, in case you don’t know already. He’s even named his resort in Coorg after her.”

“Really, Agni.”

“So that’s the secret behind that. Thanks for the gossip, Agni.”

“Let’s not stop there. Wanna know something about Nathaniel, all you fan girls?”

Groans. “Come on.”

“He absolutely hates being addressed by his full name. Finds it despicable. Detests it and what not.”

“And what is his full name, exactly?”

“If you do this on national radio I’m going to tell you right now that I’ll never forgive you, Agni Malhotra.”

“Says you, Nathaniel Mukesh Samuel Higginbotham.”

“You’re never forgiven for this.”

Laughs. Screams. “All right, all right. Are we going to hear you guys sing or what?”

“This is Fairy Dust and Jazz, singing Fairy Dust and Jazz.”

“Whenever I hear him sing this one, I feel the chill to my bones.” Sakshi told me as the tune of my favourite song filled the background of our conversation. A satisfied smile on my face, my assignments for the day forgotten, I sank into my chair and smiled at the photos that stared back at me on my study table. There was that day from the resort all those years ago, the one with the whole family. Then there was the one with Rupa and me in it in Nirvana t-shirts, her eyes closed as she focused into the camera while mine remained focused on her. The selfie I decided to bring with me all the way here, tracing the edges of the memory as the song filled my ears and my entire life.

“♪The silver lining to my black cloud.

The rain at the end of the drought. ♪”

“How does he always end up sounding so beautiful?” I asked my sister as she sang along. For two lines of the song, she doesn’t respond, making my smile as wide as the crescent of the moon out in the open black sky.

“I have no idea.” She finally provides, but I’ve forgotten what I’d asked.

“♪Delight, I look deep into

Your eyes, and you kindle

My life, you give me a

High. ♪”

“That’s... that is absolutely...”

“The worst set of words you’ve ever read?”

“No, no.”

“The cheesiest, sappiest shit your fiancé came up with. Yes, I know. I’m sorry it isn’t better.”

“Nath—”

“You know, I’ve let down so many people these past few years with my music. I feel like I should quit. Like, I should just—”

“If I stop crying long enough, maybe I’ll beg you to sing it to me. And maybe you will sing it to me.”

“You don’t have to beg, Sama. For you, I’ll do anything.”

“So sing it.” I remember telling him. “Get your gadgets together, record the damn song and sing it. Sing it like nobody’s business. Sing the cheesiest, sappiest song there ever was and ever will be and make. Me. Proud.”

“♪With a lot of fairy dust, ♪” and there came Agni’s familiar voice. Next to his, she was so unpolished, so undone. I loved that. “♪And just a little bit of jazz, doing what I must, I want to make this last, I want to make this last. ♪”

“Are you still listening?” my sister’s voice came on the phone.

Such a sweet memory to have her voice overlap Nathan’s from the first time he finished the first verse of the song all those years ago, pausing to look at anything but me with his fingers on the black and white keys. “Are you here?” he asked. “Are you still listening?” he questioned me, like there was ever a choice.

“How could I ever stop?”