Love Hurts

Tucked in between Britney Spears: The Ultimate Collection and The Pussycat Dolls at the Virgin Megastore in the Mall of the Emirates was the intriguingly-titled anthology: Break Up Songs.

Break Up Songs?! What marketing insight could have prompted a compilation of this nature, I wondered. Would you snap up the CD as a reminder of a relationship gone south? Would it make you feel better to hear ballads like 'I can't make you love me' or 'Just when I needed you most'? (In your distraught state, would you even notice the contradictions in 'Leave right now' and 'If you leave me now'?)

On another note, was it meant to be Gen-Y's equivalent of a 'Dear John' letter? ("Aw, I couldn't, you know, send him an sms that we're quits. That's so, cruel. So I gifted him the CD on Valentine's Day.")

One couldn't also overlook the possibility of it working as a subtle hint to a love-blind friend that the person he/she is dating is a loser.

My respect for the marketing brains behind Break Up Songs went up a few notches when I spotted the price tag. Where the average price of a CD ranged between 45 - 70 Dhs (roughly Rs. 540 - 840), Break Up Songs was priced at a heart-stopping 100 Dhs (approx. Rs. 1200). Clearly, according to the men in suits, there's no fool like a lovelorn fool.

I can't wait for them to come out with an anthology called, Songs to Inspire Regular Blogging...

It's possible...

… to read every single article in every single newspaper, travel from blog to blog assimilating first person accounts, updates and pictures, and feel sadly disconnected from it all.

It’s possible…

… to feel a wave of admiration for the unyielding denizens of my city and anger at their ‘resilience’ born out of helplessness.

It’s possible…

… to be shamelessly grateful that none who perished were my own, and feel a strange ache for the friend’s friend who wasn’t so lucky.

It’s possible…

To be relieved that one is far from it all, and feel a faint sense of betrayal that one is far from it all.