Silver bells

So what's christmas really? I made a plan last night and decided I'd sit down to study full time. But here I am. Reflecting on the year gone by and trying to make my day enjoyable..

I was pining for cake last evening. Turns out there's an excess supply of cake in my house now. Care for what you wish for,my mind tells me.

I have two guitars at my place thanks to two irresponsible boys who left theirs in my car two days back and ran off to guzzle alcohol. Their loss. I sat with one classical guitar. I'm taking a break and typing here while browsing on another tab and bruising my fingers learning chords which I forget the moment I play them once. Tch tch. But I'll do it! Haarrrr!!!!! I'm planning to leave a scar on one of the guitars too :P

Hmm. I'm refelecting now on the year gone by. It wasn't one of the best,really. I've re-learnt one very important lesson: you realise your true strengths in times of distress and realise who're the people who'll really stand by you. I've found out who my people are. Musically, I've learnt a lot. I had my first ever performance at Someplace. Met some amazing people and formed bonds I'll treasure.
While I go back to irritating my dad with my guitar, here are the lyrics of my favourite hymn. Christmas was always about eating cake and watching movies,but 2009 made me see this in a different light...

Amazing grace!
How sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me!
I was once lost
but now am found
was blind,but now I see!

'Twas grace that taught
my heart to fear
and grace my fears relieved;
how precious did that grace appear
the hour I first believed.

Merry Christmas everyone!


P.S. I saw the new followers on my blog just this morning. Thanks everyone for commenting too:) I'm feeling encouraged :D

Luck by chance

Last Friday was probably the worst day of 2009. I was upset,depressed and too bothered. The most bothering thing was the incident that happened on the morning of 4th of December. I had taken my usual bus from the bus stop nearest to my place at 9:30 am. The bus was heavily crowded but I had no other choice but to step in and fight my way into the bus. I had to stand for the first 10 minutes of my journey. By this time,someone had tried to feel me up thrice. I warded the hand off twice but the third time,I twisted the hand that tried to touch me and turned away,certainly perturbed. By the time the bus had reached a main four point crossing,I got a seat because the bus had nearly emptied. On sitting down,I noticed the zip of my bag where I kept my purse was unzipped. As most of my friends know by now,I had realised my purse was stolen. Someone had done a very neat job. I panicked and got off the bus immediately,helpless but shouting to everyone that I had been robbed of all my valuable documents and money. The most humiliating thing had to be standing on a side of the road,crying helplessly and calling my father.

This morning,by when I had filed an FIR,written tonnes of applications (including ones for my college ID card, Driver's licence which was issued three days ago and a library card),I got a call from a man named Kunal Ghosh who called to tell me he had my documents with him. He runs a chartered bus agency. It was in one of his buses that he found my purse lying ripped under a seat,with my documents lying on the seat in a neat stack.

I was convinced (as I was told too) that humanity needn't be bid goodbye. There are very few cases people I'm acquainted with came across,where someone had been so lucky. Good people in this world haven't ceased to exist. I needn't make this a place to preach,but what I mean to say is pretty clear.
A. The heart of life is good
B. People are good at heart ultimately.

Damn...I did ruin it,afterall!

Yesterday

Two cups of coffee (called "hot cream") in quick succession,hyperventilating,incomplete sentences,soaking in,getting yelled at by a horrible kaku/uncle/bhaiyya/dada...the day before,only so much better this time. Here are a few glimpses for you to feast (?) on,thanks to my photography which I'm desperately trying to get good at :)

P.S. These pics are sans the star of the day. And no,that's not me!

Exiting the gate of 86/1

What else would you see on College Street on a weekday afternoon? I wonder if these women know what their banners read...

Wondering and wondering...hoping B**** shows up but...sigh...
Also,the guy behind CC in the peach shirt is an R-B-Q duplicate. Point to be noted,there!





The worried and unnecessarily tense over-achiever

Coffee house and the intellectuals who chose to hang on the wall instead of sitting on the chairs

And here it is...the remains of what made me change my rather critical opinion of Coffee House's awful coffee

Maybe it was for the best I didn't click snaps on the food. My appetite couldn't be more thankful!

Dil Se

"Dil Se" has always been one of my favourite songs. Intensely passionate and of course, it starred my then favourite Shah Rukh. Was totally crazy about the video too.
Dil Se is based on the Raaga Jog. Jog is primarily (according to my interpretation) a mellow and romantic raaga. It's characteristics make it perfect for being sung at concerts that are usually scheduled to be held overnight. The genius of Rahman has transformed this subdued and romantic raaga into a master composition that portrays intense passion, flickers of helplessness and gullibility. All along, especially during the era of the 60's to the 80's, Bollywood composers have been using hindusthani classical raagas as a base for their compositions. You'd get the purest forms of most raagas in compositions of Shiv-Hari (obviously), Lakshmikant-Pyarelal, Naushad and composers of their times. I could have a heated debate about who used which raaga to perfection and without changing its character much, but here is a composition by Rahman that has changed the very character of Jog and made it bold, but made it sound appealing to so many people. I don't think anybody would dare to do this too often.

My favourite khayal rendition in Jog:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nlI3ZK3bHAc

I'm once again torn between what I want to do and what I should do. It's the world...it pegs too much expectations on us without giving a consideration about what we want truly,where our talent really lies. Today,if I tell anyone I want to leave everything and get into music full on,people will only give me the looks only an outcast deserves. Well,to hell with opinionated people and hypocrites. It's also about the success rate. What are the chances I'll get there,where I really want to be? What are the chances I'll be able to feed myself and live the comfortable life I desire? My beliefs were shaken thoroughly last night when I watched bits of "Alienz" 's performance at the college fest. They had tight musicians: the drummer was awesome,as were the keyboard guy and lead guitarist. I was spellbound when they did a cover of "The Wall". They did it rather well. Agreed,no one can imitate to perfection the bass lines of Floyd,but these guys did make a good effort. They were good,that's the bottom line. It's also a fact that I had never heard of these people before and they had minimal media coverage. I shudder to think how much these guys must be earning.

Anyway,worries aside,for me,the immediate goal is to continue and stick with my music for as long as I live. I'll miss performing,that heady feeling when I'm on stage with these brilliant musicians,the lights focussing on me,with one of the guys coming upto me and saying "naughty naughty!" or some such little funny thing that would crack me up. Just about everything. I want to have full control of where my life's going. Honestly,I should stop panicking now.

There are very few musicians I have genuine respect for. My opinions are different from most of my friends. It's actually wrong in some ways,I think,to stay within boundaries. All through my life,whether it was my father,Ma or even Guruji, I've always been told that it is only an open mind that can truly grow to love and understand music. I had another tryst with this invaluable fact last night,sitting next to Avi. The way he listens to music,calm, never speaking more than a few words during a song and soaking it all in. True,Avi may not be the best singer or composer,but it's his attitude that pulls me towards him. Same goes for Nabarun. Nabarun is by far one of the most talented musicians I've met. He listens to the most diverse music and no one appreciates music the way he does. Never overtly critical (something I've still got to learn from him) but always listening to as much as he can and pin pointing the good parts. I admire these people. They're the true music lovers,and it shows.

Just a hint of nostalgia...

picture courtesy: Ritwik Goswami

Was reading the editorial page of The Telegraph yesterday. A certain columnist wrote about "Paramount". I don't know if it was the horrible weather or my joblessness or my frustration over a few situations,but I started reeling back to some old days. The days I spent in my last three (well,almost) at 86/1. I know it's too early to talk about all of this and I should probably stock it all up and write some other time,probably just when I'm passing out or something,but I believe in no occasions. I remember Aafu on our last day in school crying and making her face red and almost having hiccups after coming down the makeshift stage of our stupid marble-walled "hall" (whatever else were we suppose to call it?). Can't forget the expression on my dad's face when he came to the senior school bulding for the first time and asked to see the playground when he was standing right in front of it. More like the Circuit-ish expression "bhai yeh toh shuru hote hi khatam ho gaya!". I felt sorry for myself. But see...I'm digressing. The point I was making was,how I don't believe emotions need a perfect point in time to be expressed and done with. "Oh yes,I cried on my last day in college". No, I'm not party to that statement and I end up feeling rather cliched.

I had always been to Paramount with my two crazy comrades. Tucked away somewhere close to our beloved "Avi'd", we had missed Paramount a couple of times. We'd plop down on the bench on most hot summer afternoons and ramble away,sometimes laughing like maniacs,sometimes just keeping quiet. The slow 1970's model fans add to the comfort and oldish feel of the place.

Cocoa Malai was my all time favourite,mostly because green-mango gave me nausea. Peculiar south Indian,you'd say,but I have my defences ready. I hate yoghurt being manipulated. I can do justice to cartons of dahi just like that,but it's just UGH! otherwise. Modestly priced and heavenly,Paramount is a real challenge to most CCD and Barista outlets. Whiling away time on the marble table-bench furniture was easy. It was one such day when we were spending a lazy afternoon that I heard someone at the next table talking about my father. They didn't know me,but they said nice things about my dad. It was the first time something like that had happened. I hadn't narrated the incident after I came home obviously.

There was another trip to Paramount which was just before the beginning of our Part1 exams. CC and I, looking tense and rather worried,just walked towards Paramount without sparing a moment to think. That was the day we had collected our admit cards and needed the break to sip on daab sherbet. Pre-examination "I bet this question will come this time" and "tibetan-food" talk had proved to be the best stress busters.

Roaming on College street aimlessly or trying out the oily rolls in Tasty were things we did back then. We had infinite time in our hands,and even befriended the "Xerox dadu" whose shop was located in a labyrinth next to Tasty. When a class would get cancelled (or when we had Development classes :P) we knew the next few hours should be dedicated at Chakraborty-Chatterjee or Rupa . Selecting gifts,bumping into strangers (well,apparently!) or simply checking out books and flinching after seeing the prices, afternoons would just go by with simple things to do with empty pockets. Coffee house was another story altogether. The kabiraaji gave me nightmares weeks after we had gone there. The experiences,though,are not forgotten like the taste. They were those "fresh out of school" and "oh my God Rajarshi Basak is HERE TOO!!" experiences that are to be treasured forever.

Buying those little pakoras with the strange coloured chutney, screaming in the middle of the road when spotting unwanted guests from the past,haggling,getting screamed at by cycle van-pullers...life in the old world and life in the new world...how they converge...and the plethora of experiences which rise from there. The happy spot,they have found :)

Johnny and the red scar

Last night as I was falling off to sleep, I stumbled across a rather relevant ending for the day. John Mayer's album Continuum started playing on my "Album of the day". It reminded me of the conversation last afternoon and the thoughts (events too) that followed. I'm very "politically averse" (if I may use the term) but as a by stander in the place where I live, I can't help but think of how I'm devoid of a choice too. I didn't get angry or scream like the others when I was forced to walk home 15 kilometers. I didn't fuss when my math paper got postponed. I don't get angry like millions of others. This is all what I really think,which,almost as if by telepathy,Mayer sang into my ears last night:


Me and all my friends
We're all misunderstood
They say we stand for nothing and
There's no way we ever could
Now we see everything that's going wrong
With the world and those who lead it
We just feel like we don't have the means
To rise above and beat it

So we keep waiting
Waiting on the world to change

It's hard to beat the system
When we're standing at a distance
So we keep waiting
Waiting on the world to change

Now if we had the power
To bring our neighbors home from war
They would have never missed a Christmas
No more ribbons on their door
And when you trust your television
What you get is what you got
Cause when they own the information, oh
They can bend it all they want
That's why we're waiting
Waiting on the world to change
We keep on waiting
Waiting on the world to change

It's not that we don't care,
We just know that the fight ain't fair
So we keep on waiting
Waiting on the world to change
And we're still waiting
Waiting on the world to change
We keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change

One day our generation
Is gonna rule the population
So we keep on waiting
Waiting on the world to change

Love

"Just what love should be like. And what is love without a violin playing goat?"

Too happy I found this image. The name of the painter popped into my head with a ping! this morning,just out of nowhere.

Alone I walked
with the times going by
"I won't show you the pages"
I screamed and I walked by

Alone I walked
and I saw a smile nearby
I stopped to glance
a friend it seemed like
we joined our arms
like the "chemical bonding"
and we walked along
as the times rushed by


A tear in the eye
"We'll never say goodbye!"
I was sure she'd be
like she always was
keeping silent but always
knowing how I was

Alone I walked
with the times passing by
I looked here and there
and saw a sight woo me
I caught a drop in my throat
I swayed and swooned
and laughed merrily
I loved the moment
"Shall we do this again,please?"

Still swaying from side to side
I wondered
"Why was I walking
alone all these years?"

I looked all around
the world seemed happy
so I drown my thoughts
and strap my sandals
and walk along
never thinking again

Went to MMB for the "Kalpanirjhar" short fiction film fest yesterday.

Was appalled watching the Indian movies. What is it with our incurable obsession with sexuality? And the crassness? My GOD. Why don't the best come out of their closets and send the worst back to where they came from? Loved the Polish film "What it's like to be my mother".

Went for phuchkas with Bharati and mummy after that. There were three marwari guys standing there,eating to their heart's content. Fine. It was fine till their faces started growing green with every phuchka. They noticed three women standing behind them waiting patiently so they were doing it purposely. They ate till the phuchka container was empty. Seriously. I HATE cheeky marwari bastards. I hate marwaris in general. Period.

I'm not sorry if I offended someone here.

Musical maturity

I was thinking of a conversation I was having with a couple of friends once. How liking jazz and slow and beautiful music shows you're maturing and definitely shows a maturity in music taste. I'm wondering more about that conversation sitting as I'm typing this post. I'm listening to Norah Jones's "Feels Like Home" and downloading two other albums of hers simulateaously. It's beautiful in the truest sense of the word. She really has inherited an immense amount of talent from her father. Although juxtaposing her and her sister Anoushka will be very unfair, a person like me can't help but bring up comparison between siblings of a stature as high as theirs. I am,of course,ignoring the likes of Amaan and Ayaan Ali Khan and Suha,Shaona and Armaan Khan (children of Ustd. Rashid Khan. Too early to judge given they're children but,well,let's just say you ought to give me the benefit of doubt here). Anoushka is the much media exposed and indulging-all-the-attention kind of sibling. She is talented without a doubt,but there's a certain difference between her and Norah. The latter's quiet, soaked in her art and very humble. I heard Anoushka in a few concerts and all I can say is that she plays like a dream when in jugalbandi with her father,but loses everything when she plays alone,confidence and aesthetic sense.
Never mind. We're really no one to discuss "celebrities". I judge their music. Without a doubt, jazz is like a dream. That's not forming any basis for my bias though.Maybe my interest in jazz will give Rahul Khanna a chance to like me :D

I bunked and I wrote: Magni-scope

8:15 a.m. Autumn has finally set in and is making way for winter. I can see the shawls set out to dry in the sun in my neighbours' balcony in the opposite tower. I was woken up by my mother's pressure cooker "chusshhhhhhhhhhhhhh"ing away early in the morning and robbing me of my peaceful sleep. My father's in the other room,singing away to glory. Cacophony? Yes.

A quick scan of my surroundings and I see my brother getting dressed to go to school. How time flies. He'll pass out of school in less than a few months now,and I,will be a graduate (!!!!). Still not sure about what I want to do with my life though. We'll leave that for later...

An hour later, I wake up again. I had managed to doze off again despite all the noise and worrying thoughts which I'm immune to by now. I hear a disturbing sound. Something like a "grrush grrush grussh". It suddenly dawns on me. How can I forget last night?
Quick-scan: There was some meat in the fridge which I wanted to transform into something magical using all my knowledge obtained from sitting for hours in front of the TV,listening to every word Vir Sanghvi,Nigella and so many others said in the hope of getting wise viewers who are master chefs anyway. I had taken up the herculean task of making Biriyani for my family. Uttering "swatantram swargalokam" under my breath, I started my mission when nobody was home so I could cut down interruptions and connoisseurs' comments to the minimum. I managed to cut my finger with my new double-chopper and burn two fingers but the process was fun. Mixing,frying,chopping,drizzling. I thought I had done a neat job till I made the mistake that spoiled nearly all my effort. I placed the handi directly on fire. With the lid covered well,I couldn't even smell much going wrong. 45 minutes later,I opened the lid to find all the meat burnt (dad said they looked like dilapidated kebabs) but the rice sitting pretty on top,smelling charcoal-y but tasting heavenly,thanks to all the most expensive inputs that went into making it.
Maid: "Ki go,kaal raate biriyani baniyechhile?"
Me: murmuring
Maid: "Ei handi ta ghoshte amar praan beriye jachhe!" (she meant she was having a hard time scraping the handi).
Unbothered,or lets say,prepared for more such challenges in the future,I went back to my room.
Another hour later,I shut the door behind me to go to the grocery store. I see my widower neighbour standing in the lobby waiting for the lift.
Me: Morning,Mr, Taneja!
Mr. Taneja: Grunt.
Quick-scan: The eve of diwali. Lonely Mr. Taneja was in his house with no visitors and with his daughters living in far off lands. My heart went out to him. I quickly caught hold of a packet of laddoos and went to his flat. Mr. Taneja was astonished at first and uncontrollably happy within a few moments. Just as I was about to say "happy diwali" he gave me a tight hug and planted a big wet kiss on my cheek. To be specific,it was below my right eye and on my cheekbone. I handed the box and rushed home without a wasting a moment. Mom opened the door and looked confused on seeing my expression. I quickly rushed to the sink in the kitchen and washed my face,explaining throughout how he was affectionate but UGH! EEWW! Now,the sink is so positioned that Mr. Taneja can see it from his flat. I know what must've happened there...

I'm walking downstairs to the shop when I hear "And I don't want the world to see me,'cause I don' think that they'd understand....". It's my mystery neighbour. He listens to some of my favourite songs and NEVER shows his face. EVER. None of my friends knows who he is who lives in that flat. Rumours are on the rounds,however,of a very cute 20-something boy living in that flat.
Quick-scan into the future: I take a lift with a drop-dead gorgeous guy to the 13th floor when,all of a sudden, there's a loadshedding and the lift gets stuck. Mystery man takes me into his arms and rescues me. We escape,unhurt, and helplessly in love. I ask him where he lives. "3-1302". That's him! That's him! "Brighter than sunshine" playing in the background (and on his music system).

I'm jolted from my thoughts at the store. The guy says there's no wai-wai (again. Stupid ^#%$***). I come home. Sadder about not getting Wai-Wai. The last pack I got on my birthday from a very generous friend was finished by my brother who was simply taking a revenge on me. Ugh!
I see dead bodies of insects that had flown in last night and disrupted my studying. I clean it with a piece of paper. All the bodies land on the floor,each making the softest thud as they land on the clean white floor. Where do their brains fit in? I thought to myself. After observing them for a while,I pick one up and dissect it like a pro biology student in a bio practical class. The wings are transparent with miniscule patterns. Boring. I sit on my chair. I look at Caves-Frankell-Jones. My life then comes to a standstill.

Undeleting the past

I thought. And thought. And thought some more.

I've steered clear of a lot of trouble now so I can write with a little more confidence and bring some improvements here and there (courtesy suggestions made by MB and CC. Thanks you guys!)
So here I am! Finally :D

A few random updates:
Like I promised myself,I got my license. Took out the car on my own with my brother in the front seat (with him panting and praying to God for his dear life) and went quite a distance. I went out without my license or my cell phone so got a little scared. Came back home,victorious nevertheless and very VERY excited. Haha! So proud of me :D

The overcast sky makes for a brilliant mood changer. Awesome to sit with a bottle of chilled beer, let life just run past you and not care a damn.
Rejoined my driving classes today. High time I sat for my driving test and get my license. I love driving :D
And well,there are these little rules that I had almost forgotten:
A. The more you want something,the farther it runs away from you. Stop caring,and it shall come to you.
B. There is someone or the other who'll see reason in something,even if the rest of the world doesn't. Similarly,there's someone or the other in this world who'll love you,even if the rest of the world doesn't seem to.
C. Love= Cheesy. Period.
D. If you get very tense about something,there's a very high chance it will turn out in an entirely different way from what you were scared about.
Nice,na? Bet you didn't know about all this. Aha, am I getting wise or what? :P

Bloggaversary

So,here I am! Completed a year of blogging successfully(?).

Had tonnes of fun today. That's what it's like when madcaps who've known each other for as long as they know meet up for a whole day :D

Watched Kaminey yesterday. Was the first movie I watched with my family in the theatre after the utterly disastrous Don. I had grown rusty about handling emotions,espcially laughing at the wrong times and stuff. But who cares!

Kaminey is a complicated plot to follow. It involves a plethora of characters,some of whose names you wouldn't remember only because there's a lot happening at once. Then again,this is a movie that was intentionally made confusing. From the beginning,the story starts taking form in bits and peices but when things start falling into place,you can't help but sit up your chair and watch what's happening. It's fast,quirky,chaotic but enjoyable all along. Vishal Bharadwaj's script is replete with his subtle comic moments and there's no dearth of dialogues with different speech impediments,thanks to Shahid and Priyanka Chopra. It is engaging of course,but there are loose moments,like when the title track of the movie plays in the background. This,of course,reflects poor editing.
The movie has been shot brilliantly. There are raw images as well as brlliant camera techniques which make the movie an interesting watch. The music,of course,needs no mention. The "dhan tanaaaaa"ing nation is enough to hammer that into anyone's head.
Last but not the least,Shahis Kapur IS the real substance of the movie. His acting skills have rarely been recognised and the very fact that the audience is able to treat Charlie and Guddu as essentially two different personalities is enough to tell you of his brilliance. Priyanka Chopra tries hard too,and she is very tolerable.
Madness,mayhem,chaos,adrenaline,Ffahid,Ffaaley,g...g....g...guddu,h....h....h...h...home science....
Give this movie a try! A movie trying desperately to be different yet merging with the commercial stream.
****

Kobiguru

Walking on the soil of his house,there's one thought that echoed through my mind:

Did he walk on the same grains of red soil that I'm walking on today?

Or has the soil turned to little pebbles now?

Did he sit here,in this romantic setting with cement benches,with creepers running over his head and write what makes a million hearts love and others admire him?

I never saw him in the light I saw him in that day. He's underrated,in a different sort of way. Much of what his creations are have actually been manipulated and he hasn't been interpreted the way he should have been. But that's just my point of view.

POTRAIT OF A LADY

Sita sings the Blues

After a patient wait of 10 days I got my reward. The movie I was dying to watch finally got downloaded.

I remember reading about Nina Paley and watching a review of her animation movies once on TV too. I was intrigued by the concept.
"Sita sings the Blues'' is a movie that has been funded by Nina's fans. In fact,Annette Hanshaw's music has also been used without obtaining prior permission and copyrights had been violated. Nina Paley made the movie in her own way,to tell her own story interspersed with The Ramayana. It was through her personal battle,says Paley,that she could connect with Sita and her rejection by Rama.

I found the movie beautiful. Paley has used Hanshaw's music perfectly and has used three forms of animation in her narrative. It is a riot of creativity and grips your attention till the very last bit. What also impressed me about the movie was the three shadow puppets which were used to narrate the The Ramayana in a very crisp and appealing way.

Till yesterday, I hadn't watched or read the full-length Ramayana the way it I watched it yesterday. Whether it is the animation movie "Hanuman" or the Amar Chitra Katha novels,I've only read what appeared to be a rosy picture. Perhaps Indians are not very pleased with the epic themselves.Although I had heard the story after the "agnipariksha",it never once irked the way it did last night. Sita showed unconditional love and dedication to her "Swami",submitted herself completely and went through immense pain. All for what? Ram's doubting her? Rejecting her to save his pride,honour and dignity? It surprised me how our epics were so male centric and forgave the man,but never the woman. The woman could face trials but the man is never to be doubted. He is the one with the power,the discretion. It is the woman who suffers.

I might sound like a feminist,but I can never understand why there should be a preference given to either sex. Forget about that...
Why did Sita have to be so submissive? I was pleased when she asked Mother Earth to take her into her womb the second time she was asked to take the Agnipariksha. What after that? a single tear from the eyes of the gallant Rama. Wonderful.
Sita always accepted whatever she was subjected to. That was,however,till centuries ago.
"Sita sings the Blues" ends in a very interesting way and on a positive note. Ram is an incarnation of Shiva. Time comes around and it is Shiva who is serving his wife Parvati. Role reversals... something I'm getting a preview of already in today's world ;)

I was watching the MJ memorial yesterday. After a stormy night at home (metaphorically) I turned the volume of the TV down to the minimum so no one could hear the TV (or me sobbing).

I was touched by the performance of Stevie Wonder. However,the best came from the one I was waiting for...John Mayer. I was deeply moved by his rendition of "Human Nature",a song by Jackson from one of his albums. It was the most emotionally charged,yet supressed and befitting as a tribute. While the others were screaming their torsos off,here was a man,silent and grieving,playing in memory and genuinely wishing his heart rests in peace. Even with the volume low I followed every note he played and absorbed the serenity. Beautiful...that's all I could say.

Watching a crappy movie like "He's just not that into you" helped. It helped me set a few things right in my head. Nobody makes junk!

Love at first sight

This is JUST what I call it...love at first sight...and sound! :D

http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=111847188376&h=FS6vL&u=Otahb&ref=mf

http://www.myspace.com/thesupersonicsindia

It's almost like I've never heard anything like this before :)

Farewell to thee,Moonwalk man!

There has not been a single dance competition in which I hadn't seen the "break-dance" being performed. There's not a single Pujo that passed without playing MJ's songs. Such was the impact of the "Jacksonian" globalisation. And for anything to seep into the cultural life of a traditional and orthodox bengali is like a big achievement. So MJ was a bigger achiever than he could ever have fathomed when he was living.
I came to know of his death from a friend who messaged me the morning the whole nation woke up to the news. I was happily catching up on my daily dose of "FRIENDS" when the message shocked the wits out of me. Surely his death was sudden and rather unexpected. I mean...most of the pop stars born way before him are still alive. MJ was all of 50! Yeah rockstars have short lives (ref: Jim Morrison). That's also why they are rockstars!
MJ was the first "ingleees" musician I had ever heard. I was all of three when MJ was really at his peak. "Dangerous" was the radio station's favourite album. Surely,ignoring the criticisms about his music being bad, there was something in the music. The energy. That was just at the highest levels all along.
MJ's videos have also been some of the best and most extravagantly made in the history of music. There is surely no comparison for "Black or White" or "Remmeber the Time"'s videos.

While his music may not be as phenomenal as people are NOW claiming it is (with all due respect to the dead), his music's fun to listen to,and definitely very fresh,whenever you hear it. There's tonnes of nostalgia attached to his music for me,and the performer that MJ was will always be remembered.

The Falling Part of the Curve

Switch on.
"Why don't you like me?"
Switch off.
Switch on.
"What have I done to deserve this?"
Switch off.
Switch on.
"Take a look at me at least!"
Switch off.
Switch on.
"I'm still waiting for you...."
Switch off.
Switch on.
"Get away from my life!!"
Heck...this was easy,wasn't it?

Love (infatuation?) has a negative second derivative!

Last Night

I turned to a familiar face after a tap on my shoulder. "He's sitting in that class. He'll be over with it soon",I was told. "He wants to meet you. Don't run away. You're good at it,so I'm warning you!". That kid's still in school? I wondered. And then he appeared before me. The image I had formed of him in my mind all through these years came crashing down. He was nothing like I'd imagined him to be.Each and every moment I was standing there looking at him,with his eyes hardly meeting mine,was painful. Amidst all this turmoil in my head, JG passed me by,looking older than she ever did. There was eyeliner left on her eyes from last night's party. There were tell-tale signs of chain smoking on her lips. Her face had those lines of kindliness and she seemed tired somehow.

Then came D. She was walking with suitcases in her hand. Nothing seemed to be tying her down. Not even my presence. The poem she wrote echoed in my head. I felt lost. I wanted to cry. It struck me how this was all that I feared. Well,not all,but some of the things that I've been fearing over the last few days.

"Packing my past"....how could she say that? Was life really as inexplicable as she thinks it is? Why is she doing this? I was sweating I realized. She still walked past me as if she never knew me. (Somehow I wanted redemption. Wanted to get back to those times when I could spend more time with her. Talking. Apologising.)

Just then,someone handed me a paper. There were cartoons sketched all over it with indecipherable scribbling. I stood there. What the hell was going on?

He was still standiong in front of me. This was too much to take. I was helpless.

I woke up suddenly. Sweating. Nah. I can't explain everything that's been going on. And somehow not thinking about these things gave me peace. I always want to escape. Perhaps sometimes it's best I do.

Parachutes

And now...about something lighter (I'm taking a reverse cue here from someone :P)

After reading a review of Parachutes yesterday in t2 by Neel Adhikary,I suddenly catapulted back to those days when I was in school. Parachutes and most obviously,Coldplay,was my first love as far as rock music was concerned. They were my first discovery.

Parachutes is one unforgettable album. The sound (which I'll call pure genius in any given point of my life) is mesmerizing,fresh and so full of thought and beauty. I connect with this album a lot. From rude riffs to piano riffs that still give me goosebumps,Chris Martin's voice rises above all of it. Parachutes is all about contemplation...thinking back about all that you've done and all that you shouldn't have. It also portrays love in a very different manner. Love that can never be confessed,but haunts your mind. Never willing to bother (or stalk :P :P) but always there with its undoubted presence.When I say this, I admit the hit track "Yellow" is a sheer contrast to the other songs in the album. Chris is good at simple lyrics like the ones in "Yellow" and "Green eyes" (from the album A Rush Of Blood To the Head) which make love look so simple,so pure and so beautifully captivating.

Although I equally favour each and every track on the album that gives goosebumps,brings tears and yet remains vague most of the time, my special favourites from this album are "Spies" and "Trouble", with the 46 second track "Parachutes" remaining that brilliantly peaceful and eluding track coming a close second. This sure is a must-have album!!

Lesson Learned

It's amazing...this thing they call the human spirit...

It never fails to amuse me how,amidst all the troubles one could ever have,one wriggles out with sheer indifference...for paying heed to something utterly insignificant and untrue would only fuel people's suspicions.
Who has the right to gossip about anybody? I never realized when I used to be scolded by my parents or others. With each passing day,however,I'm realizing that every human has his or her own worth. And no one's having to tell me these things. I realize,through my obsessive (and sometimes tending towards insanity) contemplation.
There are no people in this world who wish to discuss things that bother them. They only bring back the worst memories and stir in them that weird feeling (forgive my inadequate vocabulary) of something that's like the broth that the witches stir. No...you can do anything to do away with unpleasantness.
With every passing day,I'm also learning how important it is to never trust anyone. Yes,you read that right. There's a certain part of you that always warns you..tells you you shouldn't do something. That's your intuition. Being the impulsive wreck that I am,I always treat my intuition as stupid and have always been shown down by it. Never ever shall I defy it again,I hear myself screaming. Am I listening to myself?
But I'm learning. I'm learning the importance of all my contemplation. It all gets buried somewhere at the back of my mind,and I worry how I'll ever put all my thoughts into practice. What if I fail? But it all happens unconsciously. I never have to think twice when the time comes. I start behaving and react in the the way I always wanted to. I had conditioned myself for it. All the worry has been put to good use.

But that's about me. What about all that's been happening around me? I only think of how I'll cope with it. But what about "it"?? It's so unfathomable...how jobless people are and how they derive entertainment from people's lives and things that are non-existent. There has to be a topic for coffee-table (you'll be surprised how unfitting and unnnecessarily glamourous that adjective is for the table that exists in reality) conversation...so who's our scape-goat for today?

I never pay heed. I never will either. It's just that my life is so much more meaningful than so many others'. People will never realize,and I guess there's enough complacency in feeling that. For,if everyone loved,if everyone cared,if everyone was the same and compassion really ruled,where would incentives and the "ass-kicking" spirit come from? I wouldn't survive. And here, again out of a failure of my vocabulary,I shall call myself,and many others like me,a survivor!

Now the deed is done. Here I'm relieving myself from all my thoughts,beacuse somehow,once I've blogged, I never think about these things. Thank you creators of Blogspot! :D

Heatwave

Ugh!! I HATE summers! And I'm sure summers hate me too. That's why it's troubling me (and so many other people in this city) so much. Seriously,if the weather's bad,I can never sit down to study and fully concentrate. It's such a task sitting in this heat trying to concentrate on what's written in a bunch of morbid looking pages when you suddenly have an urge to wipe off that obnoxious trickle of sweat coming down your nose or your back. I hate losing,but I'm slowly seeing myself getting defeated by the sun. AAAAGRH!!!

But I'm still lucky with a generator. The CESC bastards are making life "living haalllllll" (as Aamir Khan says in that new Tata Sky ad :P) for all Kolkatans. An average of six hours of power cut is what they're getting us used to. So where does all the power in those election campaign meetings come from? I wonder....

But there are some things that are really catching my eye these days. Take for instance that Pink Floyd poster used by CPI(M). I have to admit...I was mighty impressed. They used the cover of the album "The Division Bell" for a campaign to show (quite irrelevantly though) how the TMC is a two faced party. Well I was a little upset about the use of that poster but to think that someone in the CPI(M) listens to Floyd is a pretty interesting thing....although I'm not ruling out the fact that the one who created the poster must be some oddball from my college whom I must be seeing everyday! Nevertheless,I'm impressed!

But who's going to solve the power cut problem????? I'm going to melt in this heatwave!!!! AAAARGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

A few random thoughts...moments of restlessness

Things reached their lowest point a few days back. It was Saturday morning and I had switched on VH1 to listen to some music while having breakfast before starting my day. I heard the song "Brighter than Sunshine" then. I didn't pay too much heed to the lyrics but the melody caught my attention and I immediately got addicted to the song. I kept humming it through the whole day. I thought I'd never forget the song. At a certain point during the day,I grew irritated of the song for having been stuck on my mind for so long.As my Facebook status says, when I woke up the next morning,I couldn't remember the song. I felt irritated,frustrated and confused. I needed an explanation. Perhaps it was me who was looking at life in such a complicated way. Perhaps I shouldn't try and analyse everything with my below average analysing abilities.



To hold and then to let go...when??



I always considered S my best friend. We had our ups and downs when we were younger,but there were solutions to petty kiddish problems. Always. And the problems were always because of my over possessiveness. Well,petty things it was then. What was it now? I fail to answer myself. Neither of us would deny there is something. And things such as these should never come between friends who've been with each other forever now. Why is it that the problem itself cannot be realized?



I see now...and then I don't



I'm tired of this pretence now. I'm not really as dumb as people sometimes presume I am. I see everything,but I still pretend I never noticed it all. And I continue acting dumb. Well it's not like I'm sitting and reaching conclusions on my own (before I got "visual" evidence I actually did think about this once,but I thought I was being stupid and oversuspicious). I was sitting right there and seeing everything in front of my eyes. It was dreadfully awkward. But then again,they were behaving in a very "restrained" manner. Yeah,right. With the people whom I thought I could be just the way I am,I had to mask my feelings that day for the first time. I asked for a glass of wine and sat down facing the wall and listening to music I killed myself to pay attention to...and continued pretending. Pretending I was a part of the furniture once,and sometimes to break monotony,that I was deaf and blind.

The big "Push" theory

Unless Uncle would've pushed us three the other day,we wouldn't have performed. We wouldn't have ever got the inspiration. Why do we need to be pushed for everyhting? Yes...its something I love doing with these guys...but what is lacking? Why are we so uninspired?

Heartbreak Hotel

With another chat message coming with a "pung" on Gtalk,my heart skips a beat. What...another break up? Another cheating girl? Another love story that never starts? I'm sick and tired of all the messed up love stories around me. Result? I end up getting depressed myself. I can't deny I like being the agony aunt to people I love,but this is just proving to be more and more stressful for me. It's not like things are as bright as the sunshine for me. I only end up feeling sad. Really really sad.

The brighter sides of life...

Tanya couldn't have come to town at a better time than this. A few conversations on the phone (for several hours each :P) just helped me feel soooooo much better. Unplanned outings (and growing tipsy and acting strange in libraries) and eating to my heart's delight...who's giving me the chance to complain here? The heat and growing more and more merciless with each passing day but my religious swimming is making me feel so much better and I'm not even having to sleep in the afternoons these days!!! Not to mention my reducing belly :D
Well...not that bad,eh? Better than poor fatty and many more who have no generators or air conditioners in their houses! *smile*

I'm often surprised at myself. I want to be everything I'm not. Why is it so? Is this human nature? I keep thinking to myself about doing this and that. The sideboard of my table is littered with post-it notes. So many plans...not one of them materializes. And then: light. Yes...it's not them. It's ME who's going through the rough patch. This is a bad time. Like a straw to a sinking man,he came day before yesterday. "Fight!",he says. "Things will start looking up for you post 1st May". I shouldn't be giving a damn about what he says. I shouldn't. I keep telling myself. But do I listen to myself? No. Who would? Who listens to good advice these days? NO ONE!!! I regret somethings i got involved in over the last year. I've changed. I don't want to be this way. I've lost my real self somewhere...as if my real self is screaming somewhere from down under. I'm deaf to its cries. But I still want to wake up. It's been too long. What have I been doing all this while? Work is knocking at my door. Banging. Thumping. I've been deaf to its cries. I've been thinking about so many insignificant things,which I'll probably laugh about later on. What is wrong with me? What happened to all my dreams? Where have all my ambitions gone? This is not me. I have to fight. He was right.

I'm fired up. I'm typing here like i never did before. I think it's working. I'm beginning to fight. I have to harden myself and compete.I have to get back in the race. I'm far behind. This is not how I was or how I want to be. I have to learn to say no and stick to my words. I can't keep being who I am. No. NO! God help me through this.

And thank YOU! I don't know what I would have done had I not read what you wrote. I needed the ignition. You are my ignition. Thank you.

My new phone :D

Ah. I quite like this new thing I have in my hands. This is my new Nokia 7210 Supernova.

Buying this phone after searching scores of sites made me realize one thing though. As Panda very rightly said the other day,there is no perfect phone in the world. Mobile manufacturers work on a secret deal: to never let their customers reach their bliss point. If they did allow such a thing to happen, it would be catastrophic. People would stop switching to new cellphones. Although I must admit I was very happy (or so it seems now) with my old Sony Ericsson W200i. Had an emotional attachment to it too,since dad had given it to me as a gift after my board results were out and it was the first phone I ever possessed of my own. A day after fussing over my Supernova,I realized it has everything my Ericsson didn't have: Bluetooth,a good camera and a functional GPRS connection. What this phone lacks is the brillaint sound quality which Ericsson phones have. I'm happy though. New things are always wonderful to have :D

Coldplay

As I type this post out,I'm listening to the new album from Coldplay called "Prospekt's March". It's a limited edition LP. Thank God for this blessing called UTorrent.

I became a huge fan of Coldplay from the very first moment I heard them. I loved their style of music. Theirs was probably the only sound that managed to elevate me,second only to Pink Floyd (need I comment on the latter?). Right from "Speed Of Sound" to "Green eyes",Coldplay took my breath away.

One of the main reasons why I've been a faithful fan of Coldplay was this: Coldplay went through a rough patch after Parachtes was released. They struggled with their album "X and Y",which wasn't very well received by critics. Then came a lull. It was after this that Coldplay reinvented its sound and came up with "Viva La Vida Or Death And All His Friends". I remember most of my friends had already lost their loyalty for this talented Irish Band. I,however,stuck by. They reinvented their sound and their music still gave me that same feeling of elevation. "Lost?" is a track on their album I can still listen to and forget the whole world around me exists. Some people accused Coldplay of ripping their track "Viva La Vida" off Satriani's "If I could Fly" (check out youtube for further info). I disagree with those who accuse Coldplay of plagiarism. It is very much possible that the same kind of riff may have come to Chris Martin's mind too. And I absolutely LOVE Chris Martin. Watching his live concerts opened up before me a new way of treating live concerts: he forgets the world,he's delirious,high on his own music. When he's performing clocks,he looks possessed,but it shows how much he's enjoying the whole experience. He transports you to his world. And you just follow...

Well nothing still compares the feeling of listening to "Clocks" in a dark room and letting the sound penetrate you. That's what I call "getting high",with music!

Hmm...I quite like this new look of my blog. It looked too dark before this. Almost dead.

The Escapades

Fever and illness just have the most brilliant timing ever. Talk about being spoilsports. Nothing could,however,dampen my spirits.
I went for my school reunion and was pleasantly surprised. Some people do change,while others just remain the same. I met quite a few people whom I hadn't seen in the last two years since i passed out of school. The highlights,however,were the renunion of the last benchers' association and the food! :D I did miss some people though...Reshma Begum and the very famous and much-talked about Monideepa Chattopadhyay: my sworn enemy. The first thing mom asked as soon as I entered home was if I had met them both :P

And then...the midnight escapade. I had never before thought i was capable of something like this or had the guts to do it,but yesterday,i did the unthinkable. It was Shalini's birthday and the plan was to go over and surprise her at midnight. With my newly senile and hyper father,it was difficult to leave home at midnight. Yesterday,however,i was in the mood to cross my limits. After thinking,rethinking,convincing myself only the worst could happen after I get caught,I did what i learnt from so many hindi movies i watched over these years. Well they hadn't gone to waste after all :P I dug out all my soft toys, arranged them to look like my sleeping body,covered them with my blanket and did the unimagineable. I took the gift and in my pajamas i went over to Shalini's place. I was seen by the guard downstairs and was followed a little too,but I don't think he saw following an ostrich like girl with a running nose as a better option compared to sitting on his cosy chair and dozing off.
Varun,as usual,forgot to get his gift. Well we did manage to surprise her and everyhting went off well.It was good fun...all the cake smearing,the typical Raj-Varun dum-dum-dum-dish jokes and pajama talk (yes my checkered pajamas were the highlight of the evening). After about an hour of staring at the unopened bottle of Brandy,i returned home,sweating once again with anxiety of getting caught and hauled up. Luck,however,was on my side for once. The door remained half open as i had left it. I sneaked in through the door (it creaked,but dad was sleeping like he had been drugged) and crept into bed. Phew! It was exciting,to break the rules and do what i always wanted to do :a midnight escapade! It was worth all the pains taken.

Dil Gira Dafatan

I've been addicted to this song...Dil Gira Dafatan. Watching Delhi-6 may not have been one of the best cinematic experiences for me. Yeah the movie had it's own plus points: Abhishek without a loser expression on his face in a long time, Sonam Kapoor looking pretty....and that's IT! As i was advised,i did not walk inot the movie hall expecting another Rang De Basanti. I was sorry later to have been expecting anything at all. Well I did have fun though...watching two of my best friends sitting next to me and bawling,watching the hungry couple (hungry for what...you know... :P)

It's the music however...Rahman's an absolute genius! I may sound like a parrot after the whole world's been saying this,but Delhi-6 has music that's one of the best soundtracks I've heard from Rahman in a long time,and it seems like a different person's music especially after Yuvraaj (yes he was the music director for it,believe it or not!).

It's Dil Gira Dafatan which I'm talking about. Rahman's put in all these sounds which are not supposed to be there to make it a good quality track...but how?!? How does it sound so mesmerizing...so beautiful that your heart elevates and you feel like falling in love! The song's pure genius...and Jai Ho sounds like garbage in front of it. The Oscar's a tribute to the musical genius named Rahman.

Lakshmi

"Where's Lakshmi today? I've been missing her in my class for a while now..." I exclaimed to Anusuya aunty,my co teacher.
"She won't be coming in for a while now. The board exams are on and she's studying for them. Last I heard from a neighbour here that she's shifted out of the village."

The last sentence aunty spoke made me stop in my tracks. I was in a state of disbelief.
"She's shifted out from here?"

My heart broke. I didn't have too much to say then. All my way home I could only picture Lakshmi sitting in my class with a timid and shy look on her face, but her eagerness and enthusiasm to learn always shone brightly. I remember Lakshmi's eyes . She was bright,and had a liveliness that always encouraged me to pull myself up and snap out of any bad moods. Lakshmi was one of my most strongest encouraging factors.

It was last year that i met Lakshmi for the first time. She was a local labourer's daughter and a student of class 12. With her father's meagre wages the family tried hard to get through a month, having only a so called "hand to mouth" existence.

All this sometimes reflected on Lakshmi. She used to wear salwar suits with very long kurtas,most of them really old. She used to look much older than her age. However,she was always a bundle of joy for the class. She was caring and very loving,and gentle to most of the children. I remember standing with her outside after our class once. There was a rabid dog near our feet that was moaning and rubbing itself against Lakshmi's ankles. "It won't do anything to you!" ,she would say to me when I,in my usual paranoia,would prepare myself to nearly climb a lamppost if the need arose. I'm petrified of dogs,and made no exception to rabid ones. " This dog is very loving and it's very affectionate too!" Her eyes glinted even in the dim light of the lamppost. "Do you know this dog that well? I'm scared of most canines. They really scare me a lot...NO! DON'T BRING IT SO CLOSE!" I was panicking. That's when i heard something peculiar from Lakshmi,a couple of years younger to me: "It has a heart too! I feed it everyday. I give it two meals a day. It has such a huge appetite!" Lakshmi was from a deprived background and it amused me to think this girl came out twice a day to feed an ailing dog from the little she is endowed herself. I noticed the expression on her face:it was motherly,with a hint of sadness too.



On a saturday evening,sometime 3 months back,we decided to talk to the kids about their ambitions. Most of the kids,when asked,said they wanted to be doctors or engineers. Kids from deprived backgrounds are taught at home to dream only of two things then,i thought. When Lakshmi was asked, she immediately spoke up,"I want to be a lawyer!".



She always came upto me after class and exclaimed how she wanted to speak in perfect english. She saw her weak communication skills as a barrier to the outside world. "Didi! I want to be able to communicate to the world what I have in me. I want them to know I'm capable!"

I learnt from her she had economics,mathematics and geography as her main subjects. She struggled hard,she told me. Juggling housework while her parents were away,studying and trying hard to fulfil her dreams. I saw her as a source of inspiration. If she can,why can't we all? Her determination and grit were what we all noticed in her. She was the oldest in the group,but her age never came as a hindrance to her learning.

Learning about Lakshmi's leaving my group made me very sad because a source of my inspiration is gone. On this women's day,Lakshmi is one woman I've been thinking about,whose story is like so many others,dreaming to become a somebody,someday...

My blog's dying...havent posted for so long!

I need more than inspiration to write now. The wrong kind has been coming my way.

And my tummy! It's my biggest enemy! Craving for those bars of sin. No..I will NOT let this happen to me!

Ate so much last evening! Puchkas,bhel puri,momos (opposite the Horizon building,which brings back horrible memories...but the momos and my company nullified the horrible feeling. Could stay there forever!),roll,churmur ( i could stay in front of the churmur wallah forever too :D :D) and finally biki max. That's what i call value for money. To avoid getting caught at home,had to stuff myself with dinner also, ala Surinder in Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi. Couldn't move after that and i wasn't surprised.

And then the Crackle bar yesterday :D :D touching. Hmm...