I see a new Dehradun every day. It might sound absurd but hear me out. The other day, I was walking around the city in my usual form – earphones in, noise-cancellation at a moderate, some Ben Howard song playing. Then, I pressed shuffle. Enter, John Wasson’s rendition of Caravan from the movie Whiplash. The music picks up as quickly as it does, you’ll know if you’ve heard it, and all of a sudden everything starts to move amazingly fast. It’s funny how music can literally change the scene right in front of your eyes. It can make a usual rainy day look like the most melancholy sight you’ve seen. It can make the sea look like an embodiment of love. It can turn a literal “three tree town” into a bustling metropolis in a few seconds. Music makes me see a new side, speed or rendition of my hometown everyday. A new rendition of a classic. A cover, if you may. It’s funny how we’re just skeletons with some protein stuck on them, insignificant in the bigger picture, who enjoy sound waves, which transform how we interact with the world to which we are insignificant anyway. If that’s not amazing, I don’t know what is.