Don't stop the music

They troop in from far-flung corners of the city, some by cab, some by train, some by bus. There are some among them who need a companion to see them safely across the city, some who lean on a sturdy cane to give them the confidence and the balance needed to walk independently. When they're finally all together in their hostess' home, you'd be forgiven if you thought they'd just come together for a bit of light 'chit-chat' and a cup of tea, but as the meeting gets under way you realise that they're here for much more than that.

Thirty-five years ago, one who is no longer in their midst gathered a small group of musically inclined friends and decided that they'd meet a couple of times a month. They were all recently retired, in their early sixties then, and their newly found free time was probably hanging heavy on their hands. Children had grown and left home years ago, they had the occasional visits of grandchildren to look forward to, their jobs were over and done with though some of them still managed to continue their profession at home. Why not meet and raise their voices in song whenever they could?

At first they were pooh-poohed by their mates. "What will a group of fossils like you do?" "How will you sustain the momentum when you're all over the hill and on your way out?" they were asked. But, having weathered decades of life with those same spouses and seen good times and bad, they were not to be put off. They were made of sterner stuff. They appropriated the name 'Fossils', secretly thinking it eminently appropriate, but changing it into an eponym to save face - Followers Of Sacred Sentimental International Limitless Song - and thus was born a musical group that has stood the test of time.

The meetings are no longer so frequent. Only one of the original members is still with them and new members have come and gone. At times, there has been formal organisation, with a president, a secretary and a treasurer to take care of details like printing song books and ensuring that each gets a Christmas gift; but there is nothing hard and fast about this. Snacks and food and drink are incidental - what is more important is that there is a piano or a keyboard at every home where the meeting is held, that an accompanist is present, and that each one raises her voice in song.

If you happen to be there when these marvellous ladies with an average age of 75 meet, your heart will soar higher than their voices do. They don't miss a note, but your heart is likely to skip a couple of beats as you recognise tunes that your mother or grandmother hummed, that you heard when you hid under the stairs all of half a century ago and watched the adults indulge in a stately waltz or let their hair down and 'groove' to a cha-cha.

The eternal bonds of music that bring them together will trap the listener, the guest, the observer and you cease to see tired hands and tired eyes because what you hear are not tired voices but eternally joyous, hopeful and youthful ones. There is the rich and timeless beauty of hymns without religion, old favourites, easily recognisabe melodies with the lyrics adapted to describe the diverse members of the group, and a lilting anniversary song that gets pride of place at this time of year when everyone gathers to celebrate another 12 months under the bridge.

As you listen to them it's difficult to decide whether to quickly record the songs or just bask in their warmth and let them flow over you, hoping that the group will reach gold and more, the baton will continue to be passed, and that the music doesn't stop.

Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.