Tamil songs have consistently found their way to the deepest chambers of my heart, striking chords I didn't even know existed. What makes this revelation particularly interesting is that I'm a Malayalee who spent merely four years in Tamil Nadu.

When a Tamil song speaks of love, I don't just hear it – I feel it coursing through my veins. When it speaks of longing, the ache resonates in my chest as if it were my own. In moments of sorrow, these melodies don't just accompany my pain; they give it voice, shape, and somehow, meaning. And when hope needs to be kindled, Tamil songs have this uncanny way of striking the match within my soul.

Perhaps it began in my childhood, with the sounds of Ilaiyaraaja flowing from my father's Panasonic boombox. Those melodies became the soundtrack of my early years, seeping into my consciousness long before I could understand their lyrics. Or maybe it's because those four years in Tamil Nadu left deeper impressions than I initially realized. Or perhaps it's because of that brief, romantic chapter with someone who carried these songs in their blood.

It's ironic that while I struggle to put these feelings into words, Tamil songs have never failed to express what I couldn't say. Maybe that's exactly why they mean so much to me - they speak when words fail, they feel when emotions overwhelm, and they understand when explanations fall short. I remain forever grateful to a musical tradition that adopted me, even though I wasn't born into it.

இனிய இரவு...