Broken Promises

It had been a rather regular English class. The teacher being one of the better ones, the yawns had been delayed by a substantial time. But even as the class meandered along its own course, the teacher announced that there would be a new short lesson to be covered. It happened to be a song, one that no one in the class had heard before.

A four year old child gaping at a black and white television where a man is performing apparently gravity defying dance moves. The broken antenna on the roof-top brings down a steady series of disturbances, constantly reminding of its age like a disgruntled clerk at the verge of retirement. The child keeps on gaping. The momentary shrill pitched parts attract the attention of his family. A few leave the room with a disgusted face, while the rest remain. A few moments later his father ventures to ask with a patronizing smile, “How do you like it?”

The child stares back at his father for some time, perhaps trying to come back from the amazing world of grey-scale glitterati. “Its brilliant…”, he mumbles rather dazedly.

The name of the song was, ‘We are the world’. As the whole class grumbled and fumbled their way to prepare to take hurried notes, the teacher stopped them. It won’t be necessary, she said, there is history related to this song.


The artists who sang the song - U.S.A. for Africa

It had nearly been 20 years since the foremost artists of the time had united to sing the song. Most of the artists were on the wane by then, a few were even retired. But even though they no longer dominated the popular culture scenario at the time, the names of greats like Michael Jackson, Bob Dylan, Tina Turner and Lionel Richie were enough to capture the attention of the students. The very idea of more than forty of the greatest of the era coming together to sing one song intrigued us at that time. Heated debates followed, but the sense of awe and respect reserved for the song was evident.

The kid, now six, waits impatiently as his father brings out a cassette from the loft. Putting it in the new cassette player, both father and son wait as the songs start. And soon the nasal voice from two years back fills the room. The kid, still not fluent enough in English can just understand snatches of the song. But soon, as the melody gets to him, he just breaks into an impromptu jig. Smiling indulgently, his parents join in…

After the discussions on Ethiopia and the effectiveness of individual contributions in making a difference in the world, we had ventured to make a request. The request was for the teacher to sing the song to us. The teacher, who also had a great tenor, would be the nearest replacement to the real thing that we had.

Another couple of years had passed. The whole family had congregated in the living room for a double treat. It was a new color Television with cable connection. Coming from a grainy black and white one which had all of two channels, this was a huge leap. As they surfed through the channels happily, he suddenly stopped in this channel with a gigantic ‘M’ in the corner. It was the same man. He looked a bit different from earlier, but the moves and the voice remained. The kid’s moment of ecstasy was short-lived though as the older sections of his joint family started complaining and the television was closed for the day, leaving the kid scowling away teary-eyed.

The teacher however refused. There was this untold regulation in our school, which forbade music to leave the confines of Music Class unless in drastic situations. Being a senior teacher, she could not break it. But looking at the long faces all around her, she relented. But not at that moment. She would sing the song to us on the last day of term.

“Promise?”
“Promise.”

The parents, ever gently, entered the room where the scowling kid sat listening to his cassettes. The kid turned to them, visible salty tracks down his cheeks marking the latest unwanted canal in the beaches of adolescence.
“When I grow up, I will go and see him in a stadium from the front rows.”
“Really?”
“Yea… And I will dance there with all those other people…”
“Make sure to take us with you then OK?”
“Sure I will!!!”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”

The last day of term came. Even though the pressure of approaching exams did do its bit to push it out of our heads, a few students made their way to English class on the last day of term to hear the song. But a big disappointment awaited us. The teacher refused to sing it to us because of the poor turn-out. Next term, she said, or else the rest of them will pester me to sing it again.

As the kid struggled clumsily in the throes of approaching adulthood, the glib stunning dance displays and the slightly shrill voice was replaced by the more refined (?) and modern thrash metal and its accompanying head-banging. The magical performer passed away from his life very much like the black and white television where he had first appeared.

Many more ends of terms came. The song never did. By this time, we had discovered the wonders of international music channels and Youtube. Music was no longer inaccessible. But for some reason, I could never bring myself to go there and listen to that song. It was some kind of weird mental block that I could never bring myself to overcome.

And one day, the last ‘last’ day of term came. We left school.

I met my teacher that day, but the persistent thought about that song got lost among the thousands of emotions and memories churning away in my mind at that moment.

The promise had been broken.

I heard the song for the first time two days ago, as the channels launched into a series of tributes to M.J. But sadly as I heard the song, I realized that just like my teacher, a child would also be breaking a promise he made to his parents all those years ago.

Rest in Peace, Michael Jackson.



'If you enter the world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with.'- M.J.