KK’s death feels like a personal loss for an entire generation whose idea of love was shaped by his songs

When I learned about KK’s death last night, many of his songs came rushing back to me, but ‘Zara Sa’ was at the forefront of that list. And I wasn’t alone in my remembrance—social media was awash with millennials echoing my sentiments. Why did we love him so much? Why does it feel like he represented all that was warm and fuzzy about our growing up years?

KK allowed us to not feel guilty about loving too much, yearning too much. It was perfectly healthy, he seemed to argue through songs such as ‘Beete Lamhein’, to have Bollywood-style heartbreaks. Yes, you were just a primary school kid still figuring out how to tie your shoelaces so that you didn’t embarrassingly trip in front of your crush again, but you were allowed to feel.

In 2022, crooning KK songs to your partner or crush might come across as peak simp behaviour to a neutral spectator, but in 2008, we didn’t have a name for it. Much like everyone else at the time, I’d steal my dad’s Nokia E71 handset, plug those plastic earphones in the dead of the night, and drown myself in KK’s tunes that seemed to validate my yearnings for that straight boy who was blissfully unaware of my existence.