Creeque Alley - The Other Song

We know them for ‘California Dreaming’ but I am going to talk about another great song by them called ‘Creeque Alley’. I am talking about one of the essential American band of the 60’s, sweetly called ‘The Mamas & the Papas’.

This song is an amusing description of how the Band was formed, with facts, names and incidents thrown in and set to a beautiful melody and cadence. Add to it the great vocals of Cass Elliot (also known as Mama Cass because of her size and association to the Band) and Dennis Doherty (Denny) with a lovely accompanying flute and you are happily in the Creeque Alley. The other members of the band were songwriter and guitarist John Phillips and Michelle Phillips (they later got married). The song was written in the year 1967, when the band was living the ‘great hippie dream’ on Virgin Islands, living off their American Express card (which gets a mention in the song) in a club located on the road named, ‘Creeque Alley’ which gives the song its name.

In my knowledge, no other band has chronicled their history and the life that they led in such a wonderful fashion. You will find a very good and complete analysis of all the lines of the track over here. The band was active between 1965 – 1968, making 5 albums and giving many hit singles. The name of the band happened from Cass’s response to a television talk show. You can use wikipedia to know the details of the story, if you are interested.

Enjoy your weekend! I am going to try and do the same in the difficult atmosphere of our country's capital.

Manhattan, Broadway and Vienna

A week ago, I added 14 new titles to my DVD collection and 3 have already been watched and loved.

Manhattan (1979, Woody Allen) :
The second edition of what is known as the 'New York Trilogy' by Woody Allen continues to explore the craziness of modern day relationships, with Manhattan skyline and Gershwin's beautiful score working as the background. The small transition that has happened from 'Annie Hall' to this one is just that the number of relationships studied has increased. Mr Allen's inimitable style remains the same and so does the humor. With precious lines like 'Gossip is the new Pornography' this classic can be taken as an academic study of the times. Also, it paved way for many modern day, popular TV sitcoms like Seinfeld and Friends. The black and white photograph here, has become one of the iconic shots in the history of movies.
Did you know that our very own Zubin Mehta conducted the Gershwin scores for the movie? I didn't. Now, with first 2 editions in my collection, will be looking out for 'Stardust Memories'.

Singin' in the Rain (1952, Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly):
Somehow, I missed out on this classic and when I watched it yesterday, I realised the truth behind its iconic status. Its one of the best movie from Hollywood on Hollywood, full of great songs, dance and some satire on the shallowness of showbiz.
It has a beautiful love song called 'You were meant for me' sung by Gene Kelly and later sung much more beautifully by Sting.

Amadeus (1984, Milos Forman):
I am still basking under the pleasure and impact of the movie which I finally managed to watch. My friends who have been asking me to go through the 'Amadeus' experience for a long time would be very happy. When I get out of this pleasure trip, I shall write something about it...Right now, I don't want to spoil the trip.

Forever Changes

Thats the name of a wonderful album of the 60s by a lesser known band, simply called 'Love'. I use the title to announce this change in the look of this blog. It has resulted from the feedback, I have been receiving from my readers. The last one appeared in my previous post by a 'Smiling Dolphin' and I decided that I cant go on troubling peoples eyes, specially those of a Smiling Dolphin.

Try listening to the album. If you find difficulties finding it, you can always come to me.

Holiday State of Mind and Machiavelli

In the last post I mentioned about how I am not in the ‘fiction state of mind’ these days. It follows from there that I haven’t read any work of fiction in a long time and I blame it on the lack of what I call as a ‘Holiday State of Mind’. (The Last novel for me was a very mediocre and hence, totally forgettable ‘Memoirs of My Melancholy Whore’ by the great Mr. Marquez. I wonder what happened to his greatness in this last work…perhaps it’s the age). Let me spend a small paragraph on this state of mind.

Till 2 years back I was living in this ‘Holiday State of Mind’, and this state was on from as long as I can remember things. Living life in a conversation with a friend, or in the piano solo of ‘In my Life’, or in the loneliness of Zimmy’s poetry, or in the existentialist pages of ‘The Fall’, or just in the plain delirium of the moment….it was a series of living right here, right now…never a tomorrow! In the process, I absorbed some good and evil. Some of the goodness gets reflected in this space (I hope) and we shall keep the 'Evil' for some other occasion. Under the present circumstances, things have changed a bit. Now, I need a real long holiday to read a work of fiction and its been a while, since I had one.

So, continuing this streak of reading ‘non-fictions’, I picked up the famous ‘The Prince’ by Niccolo Machiavelli to revisit. In my last visit, the book and its ideas were too revolting for my socialistic mindset (you can also call it ‘youth’) and hence I rejected it. In my latest visit, I just can’t stop appreciating its cold and clinical approach towards 'seizing and holding power', which is the single point agenda of this work. Its not that my mindset has changed drastically, but age arms you with the wisdom to appreciate and see the greatness of a differing philosophy.

When, in 1512, Machiavelli was removed from his post of a Diplomatic Negotiator in Florence, Italy; he resolved to set down a treatise on leadership that was practical, not idealist. His ‘Prince’ would be unencumbered by ordinary ethical and moral values; his ‘Prince’ would be man and beast, fox and lion. Let me present an excerpt from this work to elucidate the cold (and intelligent) amorality of it.

“Therefore, it is to be noted that in seizing a state one ought to consider all the injuries he will be obliged to inflict and then proceed to inflict them all at once so as to avoid a frequent repetition of such acts. Anyone who acts otherwise, either through timidity or bad judgment, will always have to keep a dagger ready in his hand, nor will he ever be able to trust his subjects since, because of continually renewed injuries, they will never be able to feel safe with him. Injuries must be committed all at once so that being savored less, they will arouse less resentment. Benefits, on the other hand, should be bestowed little by little so as to be more fully savored.”

Taken from Chapter 8, ‘Concerning Those Who Become Princes By Evil Means’

This piece takes me to the last sequence of the movie 'Godfather', wherein Michael consolidates his position as the new Godfather by an orchestrated and programmed annihilation all his enemy forces…all at one go!

On another note, why isn’t this text taught in the Business Schools to teach the techniques of leadership. Maybe it is a part of some Business course curriculum and I don’t know of it or perhaps it gets rejected because of the inherent amoral principles of it. Do let me know if you know of this ‘treatise’ being in the syllabus of Business administration…just for my curiosity!

Jazz Writer

I havent read anything by the Japanese author, Haruki Murakami, though some friends keep recommending his works to me. Since I am not into a 'fiction-reading' mindset these days, I haven't even bothered to pick up anything by him. But after reading a beautifully written essay by him, I am surely going to buy one his works for the times when I am in that 'fiction-reading' mindset. In this essay, he writes about how he has learnt everything about writing from music. Despite its length (my apologies to Mouse!), I am putting it on this space...enjoy!

Jazz Messenger By HARUKI MURAKAMI

I never had any intention of becoming a novelist — at least not until I turned 29. This is absolutely true.
I read a lot from the time I was a little kid, and I got so deeply into the worlds of the novels I was reading that it would be a lie if I said I never felt like writing anything. But I never believed I had the talent to write fiction. In my teens I loved writers like Dostoyevsky, Kafka and Balzac, but I never imagined I could write anything that would measure up to the works they left us. And so, at an early age, I simply gave up any hope of writing fiction. I would continue to read books as a hobby, I decided, and look elsewhere for a way to make a living.
The professional area I settled on was music. I worked hard, saved my money, borrowed a lot from friends and relatives, and shortly after leaving the university I opened a little jazz club in Tokyo. We served coffee in the daytime and drinks at night. We also served a few simple dishes. We had records playing constantly, and young musicians performing live jazz on weekends. I kept this up for seven years. Why? For one simple reason: It enabled me to listen to jazz from morning to night.
I had my first encounter with jazz in 1964 when I was 15. Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers performed in Kobe in January that year, and I got a ticket for a birthday present. This was the first time I really listened to jazz, and it bowled me over. I was thunderstruck. The band was just great: Wayne Shorter on tenor sax, Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Curtis Fuller on trombone and Art Blakey in the lead with his solid, imaginative drumming. I think it was one of the strongest units in jazz history. I had never heard such amazing music, and I was hooked.
A year ago in Boston I had dinner with the Panamanian jazz pianist Danilo Pérez, and when I told him this story, he pulled out his cellphone and asked me, “Would you like to talk to Wayne, Haruki?” “Of course,” I said, practically at a loss for words. He called Wayne Shorter in Florida and handed me the phone. Basically what I said to him was that I had never heard such amazing music before or since. Life is so strange, you never know what’s going to happen. Here I was, 42 years later, writing novels, living in Boston and talking to Wayne Shorter on a cellphone. I never could have imagined it.
When I turned 29, all of a sudden out of nowhere I got this feeling that I wanted to write a novel — that I could do it. I couldn’t write anything that measured up to Dostoyevsky or Balzac, of course, but I told myself it didn’t matter. I didn’t have to become a literary giant. Still, I had no idea how to go about writing a novel or what to write about. I had absolutely no experience, after all, and no ready-made style at my disposal. I didn’t know anyone who could teach me how to do it, or even friends I could talk with about literature. My only thought at that point was how wonderful it would be if I could write like playing an instrument.
I had practiced the piano as a kid, and I could read enough music to pick out a simple melody, but I didn’t have the kind of technique it takes to become a professional musician. Inside my head, though, I did often feel as though something like my own music was swirling around in a rich, strong surge. I wondered if it might be possible for me to transfer that music into writing. That was how my style got started.
Whether in music or in fiction, the most basic thing is rhythm. Your style needs to have good, natural, steady rhythm, or people won’t keep reading your work. I learned the importance of rhythm from music — and mainly from jazz. Next comes melody — which, in literature, means the appropriate arrangement of the words to match the rhythm. If the way the words fit the rhythm is smooth and beautiful, you can’t ask for anything more. Next is harmony — the internal mental sounds that support the words. Then comes the part I like best: free improvisation. Through some special channel, the story comes welling out freely from inside. All I have to do is get into the flow. Finally comes what may be the most important thing: that high you experience upon completing a work — upon ending your “performance” and feeling you have succeeded in reaching a place that is new and meaningful. And if all goes well, you get to share that sense of elevation with your readers (your audience). That is a marvelous culmination that can be achieved in no other way.
Practically everything I know about writing, then, I learned from music. It may sound paradoxical to say so, but if I had not been so obsessed with music, I might not have become a novelist. Even now, almost 30 years later, I continue to learn a great deal about writing from good music. My style is as deeply influenced by Charlie Parker’s repeated freewheeling riffs, say, as by F. Scott Fitzgerald’s elegantly flowing prose. And I still take the quality of continual self-renewal in Miles Davis’s music as a literary model.
One of my all-time favorite jazz pianists is Thelonious Monk. Once, when someone asked him how he managed to get a certain special sound out of the piano, Monk pointed to the keyboard and said: “It can’t be any new note. When you look at the keyboard, all the notes are there already. But if you mean a note enough, it will sound different. You got to pick the notes you really mean!”
I often recall these words when I am writing, and I think to myself, “It’s true. There aren’t any new words. Our job is to give new meanings and special overtones to absolutely ordinary words.” I find the thought reassuring. It means that vast, unknown stretches still lie before us, fertile territories just waiting for us to cultivate them.

I am sure you would have appreciated the essay, the way i did. Mr Murakami has connected 2 of the best creations of the civilized world so beautifully.

Terrible travel schedules coming up for me, hence I will be sporadically present on this space for some time. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

Beacause I've known you all my life

This post appears here because of two reasons. Firstly, it was a request from a reader and secondly, its good writing, deserving to be in this space. Written by David Abbott this is the copy of a Chivas Regal ad. Despite its sentimental overtones or the Britishness, it stands out as a great piece of advertising making the particular scotch highly desirable. Considering the times it came out, which must’ve been the early 70s, one can see how it has inspired later works in advertising.

Because I’ve known you all my life.
Because a red Rudge bicycle (the Britishness) once made me the happiest boy on the street.
Because you let me play cricket on the lawn.
Because you used to dance in the kitchen with a tea-towel round your waist.
Because your cheque book was always busy on my behalf.
Because our house was always full of books and laughter.
Because of countless Saturday mornings you gave up to watch a small boy play rugby.
Because you never expected too much of me or let me get away with too little.
Because of all the nights you sat working at your desk while I lay sleeping in my bed.
Because you never embarrassed me by talking about the birds and the bees.
Because I know there’s a faded newspaper clipping in your wallet abouyt my scholarship.
Because you always made me polish the heels of my shoes as brightly as the toes.
Because you’ve remembered my birthday 38 times out of 38.
Because you still hug me when we meet.
Because you still buy my mother flowers.
Because you are more than your fair share of grey hairs and I know who helped put them there.
Because you are a marvelous grandfather.
Because you made my wife feel one of the family.
Because you wanted to go to McDonalds the last time I bought you lunch.
Because you’ve always been there when I’ve needed you.
Because you let me make my own mistakes and never once said “I told you so.”
Because you still pretend you only need glasses for reading.
Because I don’t say thank you as often as I should.
Because it’s Father’s Day.
Because if you don’t deserve Chivas Regal, who does?

Mr Abbott himself had to say the following about the ad:

“This ad is about Chivas Regal but it’s also about me and my father. (I really did have a red Rudge bicycle). It’s a risky ad and, for some people, its sentimental but I know others who say that it vividly echoes there own experience. Incidentally, if you try to write a headline for this ad, you’ll discover why it doesn’t have one.”

I still remember reading the ad for the first time as a student of advertising (who was also a lover of whiskey) and thinking that this will be my brand of Scotch when I can earn enough to afford it. And then someday, perhaps gift it to my father, who is also a whiskey lover.

2 Meaningless Headlines of the Recent times

Atlantis with Sunita Williams (were there others in it?) finally had a safe landing. Of course, she is as 'pakka' an Indian as the 'Taj', which brings me to the other one...

Taj Mahal has to be in the Seven Wonders of the World....every Indian should campaign for it! Else, Taj will lose its standing and more importantly the beauty & charm that it has always been famous for.

There's a thing in my pocket

I usually don't write about the profession I am in, but once in a while something comes along from my industry that makes me happy because of the sheer creative beauty of it (and makes me write a post like this). This commercial for multifunctional Nokia 95 is not on air anymore (though a friend says that one channel still runs it) but it keeps running in my mind all the time. I am sure the commercial will be there for you to appreciate on youtube in its full glory...with the subtle soundtrack of piano notes, great visuals with beautiful hue & lighting and a really stylish Godfather like voice-over. But the real hero of the commercial is the outstanding copy...Nosh Farmaaiye!

There's a thing in my pocket,
but it's not one thing, it's many
It's the same as other things
but exactly like nothing else.
It has an eye and an ear
that shares what billions of humans see.
It's not a living thing,
but if you feed it it will grow.
It can rally the masses,
it can silence the crowd.
It can speak a thousand words
but it has no voice.
It can find you the places
so you can get lost. (my favorite line)
And it can let others feel
what you've just been touched by
There's a thing in my pocket,
but it's not one thing, it's many.

Last time I fell in love with an ad was the international one for Sony Ericsson, Walkman phones...the one that ends with that very European sounding 'Hello'. Interestingly, a rival brand and the one I own!

The Sound of Humor - Julie Andrews

Like most people of this planet, The Sound of Music (1965) happens to be one of my favorite things. My last viewing, which was a few months ago, resulted in countless gooseflesh moments and watery eyes. When I appreciate something to the highest degree of appreciation that can happen in my system, my eyes start shedding loads of water (think I shall try to explain this whole thing of ‘degrees of appreciation’ in another post). Why I am mentioning this all time classic of 20th century here is because of a forward I received this morning in my mailbox from a funnyman friend.

One of the big songs of the movie is ‘My Favorite Things’ a song in minor scales and set on waltz beat. The song simply suggests that when you are feeling low, just remember some of your favorite things and you will start feeling better (works for kids and in movies, I guess). Anyway, the thought is beautiful, even is it isn’t practical (speaking strictly for myself).

So, the morning forward carried this content:

To commemorate her 69th birthday on October 1, actress/vocalist, Julie Andrews made a special appearance at Manhattan's Radio City Music Hall for the benefit of the AARP. One of the musical numbers she performed was 'My Favorite Things' from the legendary movie "Sound Of Music." Here are the lyrics she used:

Maalox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines tied up in string,
These are a few of my favorite things.

Cadillac's and cataracts, and hearing aids and glasses,
Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses
Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings,
These are a few of my favorite things.

When the pipes leak, When the bones creak,
When the knees go bad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don't feel so bad.

Hot tea and crumpets and corn pads for bunions,
No spicy hot food or food cooked with onions,
Bathrobes and heating pads and hot meals they bring,
These are a few of my favorite things.

Back pains, confused brains, and no need for sinnin',
Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinnin',
And we won't mention our short, shrunken frames,
When we remember our favorite things.

When the joints ache, When the hips break,
When the eyes grow dim,
Then I remember the great life I've had,
And then I don't feel so bad

Ms. Andrews received a standing ovation from the crowd that lasted over four minutes and repeated encores.

I salute the spirit and humor of Ms Andrews if this is true, else the salute goes to the man/woman with such parodying skills. Enjoy your weekend!

A Scientist's Religion

As mentioned in my earlier post, I am in the presence of a great mind these days. Its in the form of a essays and articles written or spoken by Albert Einstein on various subjects. This one is on how a scientist looks at religion.

“You will hardly find one among the profounder sort of scientific minds without a religious feeling of his own. But it is different from the religiosity of the naïve man. For the latter, God is a being from whose care one hopes to benefit and whose punishment one fears; a sublimation of a feeling similar to that of a child for its father, a being to whom one stands, so to speak, in a personal relation, however deeply it may be tinged with awe.

But the scientist is possessed by the sense of universal causation. The future, to him, is every whit as necessary and determined as the past. There is nothing divine about morality; it is a purely human affair. His religious feeling takes the form of a rapturous amazement at the harmony of natural law, which reveals an intelligence of such superiority that, compared with it, all the systematic thinking and acting of human beings is an utterly insignificant reflection. This feeling is the guiding principle of his life and work, in so far as he succeeds in keeping himself from the shackles of selfish desire. It is beyond question closely akin to that which has possessed the religious geniuses of all ages.”

The book like any other thing I appreciate has become an obsession. Whatever spare time I get in between my busy schedule, even if its a 15 minutes break, I end up making a quick visit to one of the many rooms of the man’s mind to return happier than before. Have you picked up the book yet?

Raga Malhar and its Effect

The first rains of Bombay happened last evening and my friend & me were lucky enough to get caught in it. Though it also brings memories and fear of troubled times (26/7, as branded by the media), all were happy and smiling, including the leaves on the trees, which got a wash. And in my mind I was elated that the rains responded to my invitation. I had invited them by playing (on my music system) 3 kinds of ‘Malhar’ the previous evening. Sur Malhar by Pt. Bhimsen Joshi, Gaud Malhar by Pt. Jasraj and Megh Malhar by Rashid Khan.

One of the most unique characteristics of Indian music is the assignment of definite times of the day and night and seasons for performing Raga melodies. There are some Ragas, which are very attractive in the early hours of the mornings, Bhairav or Lalit for example; others, which appeal in the evenings e.g. Yaman & Khamaj, yet others, which spread their fragrance only, near the midnight hour, like Malkauns & Bhopali. Then there are certain Ragas like Malhar and Bahar which invoke the season or the sentiments of that season in the listeners / musician’s mind. No other culture in the world can boast of this kind of richness and depth in the construction of their music.

Now, Raga Malhar comes in various kinds. Slight change in one note here and there in the basic scale of Malhar can turn it into a Sur Malhar or Miyan Ki Malhar. According to the legend, when the summer heat would get beyond tolerance levels of human beings, Tansen, the court singer would sing Miyan ki Malhar (the most famous type and constructed by Tansen himself))…the heat would get drowned in the heavy showers and the great Monsoons of India would announce itself. The same happened last evening bacause of the music by the modern day Tansens (though Rashid Khan doesn’t deserve this adjective). Thats how I the romantic in me choses to look at it.

Coming back to the last evening…cars started honking in gay chaos of the moment, people started running half-heartedly towards the nearest shelter, my leather sandals got wet and amidst all this that special smell arose from the earth…that smell of rains making love to the earth after a gap of one full year!

Then we got into a theater to watch a decent effort by adman Balki, called ‘Cheeni Kum’. The gentleman sitting next to me kept laughing and commenting loudly on every little joke/unjoke of the movie. Reckon the movie is doing good business!

My latest trip:
The two songs I have been listening to almost everyday for the last fortnight. Both are by CSN, both are from their self-titled first album (1969) and both are a trip.
1. Wooden Ships (co-written by Paul Kantner of Jefferson Airplane and hence appears in their first album too): The song as one of the best opening lines in rock history, “If you smile at me I will understand, that is something everybody everywhere does in the same language"

2. Long Time Gone: This song was written as a response to Robert Kennedy’s assassination

Three Movies and a Play

Shrek III: The 3rd edition of one of the popular icon of our times teaches the lesson, ‘don’t get bothered by what others think of you...just stay true to yourself’. Nicely fairy-taleish and executed in the same brilliance, of the preceding two editions, it’s an easy and funny watch. Though nothing can take away the charm of the first one, purely because it’s the first time you are introduced to the characters and 'Far Far Away'. One thing that has been consistent in all editions of this tale centering on the green monster is the brilliantly timed usage of music…whether its Jason Wade’s version of ‘You belong to me’ in Shrek or Led Zepp’s ‘Immigrant Song’ in the latest one.

Later, I realized that we were one of the first few ones to have watched the movie, as it hasn’t been released officially in the Bombay theaters. Apparently, we had caught the paid preview!

Vivement Dimanche or Finally Sunday (1983): This Black & White tribute to Alfred Hitchcock by Francois Tuffaut (of 400 Blows fame) is an out and out murder mystery with a very attractive looking Fanny Ardent playing the lead. It happened on a Sunday afternoon on Zee Studio, thanks to Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra & UTV combine effort. Truffaut was an expert on Hitchcock and great admirer of his work which explains the deliberate usage of Black & White.

King of Comedy (once again 1983): Along with Taxi Driver and Raging Bull, this movie forms an unofficial trilogy of films by Scorcese and De Niro portraying obsessive characters. It’s a great satire on the cult of celebrity with great performance and among Scorsese’s best. In fact, Scorsese claims that its De Niro’s finest performance under his direction.

Aapki Soniya, a play by Javed Siddiqui: This one is a sequel to the highly popular ‘Tumhari Amrita’ which had Farooque Sheikh & Shabana Azmi. While the impeccable Sheikh continues as the same character from ‘Tumhari…’, Soniya, the new character has been enacted in an unexpected good manner by Sonali Bendre. The format remains the same…which is that of letter-reading between the two characters.

If you appreciate and understand the beauty of Urdu, this one is a must. Mr Siddiqui writes very well with ample amount of Ghalib and Zaukh thrown in at the right moments. So, despite a starving stomach, I enjoyed the play. More so, because my friend’s father (who was also with us) used the interval to ‘pick my brains’ (as he said) trying to understand the nuances of the language. I was glad to be of some help. The play ended in a rather disappointing manner becoming unnecessary soppy like a typical Bollywood movie. But, without getting turned off by the last sentence, go ahead and form your own judgement by watching the play.

May you stay Forever Young

Its Robert Allen Zimmerman's birthday today...he turns 66. My blog gets its name from one of his songs and my first post was on his latest album, 'Modern Times' which reached #1 in the US album charts (making him the oldest living person to top the charts). This one is for him to continue creating the magic that he has always done. May his hands always be busy!

This poem is from his 1974 album called 'Planet Waves' and its called 'Forever Young'. He wrote it for his children and it appears in two versions in the album (I like the slower one).

May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

To celeberate the occasion, I shall have a nice evening with the man's music and some scotch...what will you do?

Which one am I ?

Rumi has come back in my life through the modern device called mobile phone. Some years ago, I took a trip to Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi’s world, which lasted a month or so. I ended up reading most of his works from the web and buying some of his books. ‘Some’ here reflects my financial status during those days when I was myself like a ‘poor dervish’ on a certain high (or at least, that’s what I would like to think about myself during those times).

Coming back to Good Ol’ Rumi and my new age mobile phone…my good friend works for a firm called ‘Webaroo’ which, apart from other things, is into providing a free service of sending smses to those who subscribe, on subjects like ‘Sufism’, ‘Riddles’, ‘News’, ‘Music Trivia’ etc. On my friend’s insistence, I subscribed to this free service a couple of weeks ago. And now, throughout the day I keep receiving some interesting stuff on my mobile, including Sufi quotes from Rumi.

Rumi was born in what is today’s Afghanistan in the year 1207 AD to a family of learned theologians. He was introduced into the mystical path by a wandering dervish, Shamsuddin of Tabriz. His love and his bereavement for the death of Shams found their expression in a surge of music, dance and lyric poems. In the writer’s opinion, their relationship had shades of homosexuality but this has no relevance in the current context.

The name Rumi stands for Love and ecstatic flight into the infinite. The object of love in his works as is true for all Sufi poetry, is God. Before I get into my personal views regarding the subject of God, allow me to present a few translations of his writings. They were all written in Persian and as translation takes away half the beauty of the work, imagine the original beauty of these.

"In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest,
where no one sees you,
but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art."

"The garden of Love is green without limit
and yields many fruits other than sorrow and joy.
Love is beyond either condition:
without spring, without autumn, it is always fresh."

They were all written in Persian and as all translations take away half the beauty of the original work, one can imagine the original beauty of these words. The one which came on my mobile and made me write this post is this.

"I wonder from these
thousands of 'Me's'
which one am I?"

If you also want to subscribe to this free service, you can visit http://sms.webaroo.com/commands and you will get the details. As for me, I just got another sms!

A good city to fall in love

My love-hate affair with Bombay (am stuck with the old name) began 7 years ago, when I came here as a trainee in the advertising industry. Much has happened since then in my experiences with the city and I can dedicate a whole new blog to narrate them. In the meantime, I found this poem in the form of a forward from an old friend…it paints quiet a picture. Anybody who has experienced the city will appreciate it.

A good city to fall in love
Bombay is a good city to fall in love.
My lover lives eight trainstations and two full bus-stops away.
Ten rupees of distance between us.

Courage comes easy.
The citypocked with couples, suspended in amour.
Wet monsoon shivers, filling streetfood. Midday reads to share.

Obstacles, like the sour smell of suburban shit, humidity, thecrowded train.
All defeated by young love.
Bombay, yes, is a good city.

We spread handkerchiefs, sit on them.
One hand held, theother, busy eating something.
By the sea, you explain, we can sit forever.

But the beggars, and the sunset,respective waiting rooms,
dying rush hour, ease us off the sand.
This is the restrained, timed love of office-goers.

At Churchgate, I kept looking at your growingly tiny face.
My local pulling out. I am already fifty paisa away from you.
Yes,I love you.

A quick search on the google yielded the name of the poet...Neha Vishwanathan and she lives in London. You can find more of her works on her blog over here. Thanks, Neha for the nice poem!

Inside a Great Mind - Ideas and Opinions

My sister’s limited culinary skill is responsible for this post. The decision to give cookery books to my newly married sister as a birthday gift got me buying this beautiful collection of writings by one of the finest minds, our world has ever produced. Smart retail strategy (Point of Payment) also had a role to play…the bookshop had kept it at the payment counter, so while paying for the gift, my eyes spotted this collection and I quickly asked it to be added to my bill.
It’s a book called ‘Ideas and Opinions’ and the mind responsible for it is Albert Einstein. The red and black colored book (with a very hazy and bad photograph of the man) contains this great intellectual’s views on subjects as diverse as atomic war, religion, human rights and philosophy of life. Many words have been written on the man, so I shall stay away from it. Instead, I shall put forth some of the words from him (which in a way will reflect a lot on his personality)
Consider this one from an essay called, ‘The World As I See It’ published in 1931. Says a lot on the man’s humanity, curiosity and simplicity.

"To inquire after the meaning or object of one’s own existence or that of all creatures has always seemed to me absurd from an objective point of view. And yet everybody has certain ideals, which determine the direction of his endevours and his judgments. In this sense I have never looked upon ease and happiness as ends in themselves – this ethical basis I call the ideal of pigsty. The ideals, which have lighted my way, and time after time have given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been Kindness, Beauty and Truth. Without the sense of kinship with men of like mind, without the occupation with the objective world, the eternally unattainable in the field of art and scientific endevours, life would have seemed to me empty. The trite objects of human efforts – possessions, outward success, luxury – have always seemed to me contemptible."

Amongst the three ideals mentioned, I was missing Knowledge as the fourth.

And take this small one called ‘On Wealth’ from the year 1934.

"I am absolutely convinced that no wealth in the world can help humanity forward, even in the hands of the most devoted worker in theis cause. The examples of great and pure individuals is the only thing that can lead us to noble thoughts and deeds. Money only appeals to selfishness and irresistibly invites abuse.
Can anyone imagine Moses, Jesus, or Gandhi armed with the money-bags of Carnegie?"

With many more thoughts like these, including a section completely dedicated to ‘Contributions to Science’ makes this one a must buy…if only to sometimes disagree with the great mind’s personal philosophies. Its published by Rupa & Co and priced at a sweet 295/-.

Last Weekend:
It was full of some enjoyable activities in the still-charming city of Pune. Let me illustrate them sequentially:
- A good evening of making music and movie-talk (found a good movie pal) along with good ol’ Chivas
- Authentic Maharashtrian Thali at an authentic Maharashtrian joint called ‘Atithi’ on the next day
- Afternoon swim in the pool with the aide of two friends…one holding my hands and the other holding my waist. Considering that I know nothing about swimming, it was quiet an achievement.
- Relaxing steam bath which cleared my permanently blocked sinusitis nose (if only for a while)
These were the planned activities. Next came the surprise ones:
- A fine chicken dish called C-14 along with a beautiful Bordeaux wine at an exotic Italian joint aptly called La Dolce Vita
- It ended with a lot of phone calls to one number and later, a midnight drive back to Mumbai with Rolling Stones playing inside the lovely Ford Fusion.

Lets see what the coming weekend has in store for me…something says that I shall be working.

Plagiarism and Adaptation

Last fortnight has been terribly busy with the unavoidable materialistic pursuits of life, which explains my absence from this space (though I've been managing to get my ‘movie’ and ‘music’ shots). The earlier mentioned ‘inner circle Woodstock’ has been written about by Mr Bojangles over here, so I shall talk about something else. Let me talk about ‘plagiarism and adaptation’ in art.

Mahesh Bhatt, the film director presented the movie ‘Dil Hai Ki Maanta Nahin’ to the Indian audience in the year 1991 and turned me into an instant fan of the movie. My father reacted by saying that it’s a remake of Raj Kapoor & Nargis starrer ‘Chori Chori’ (1956) which in turn was a remake of Frank Capra’s ‘It Happened One Night’(1931). Since 1991, I’ve watched ‘Dil Hai…’ quiet a few times, enjoying it almost on all the occasions. ‘Chori Chori’ figures vaguely in memory as an enjoyable movie as I watched it as a kid. But, somehow, I never managed to watch the Capra’s classic (excepts for a few shots on certain film documentaries) until recently and that’s when I thought of writing this.

The movie ‘Dil Hai…’ is a frame by frame/dialogue by dialogue lift of the original classic by Capra…it’s just that the context has been made interestingly different with the trademark songs of the Hindi films. Personally I am not against this act of using a classic from one context and adapting it to another. It just makes a good work of art known to a larger and different audience. The sore point about Mr. Bhatt’s effort is that he did not to give due credits to the original. How can a genuine artiste deny acknowledging good work by another artiste? That too when he is using that ‘good work’ to make something of his own. Shakespeare has always been adapted from the likes of Kurosawa (Throne of Blood) to Vishal Bhardwaj (Maqbool) but these good men put a message upfront which says ‘Adapted from Macbeth by William Shakespeare’ and that’s all that it takes to fully appreciate the new effort. This message also draws the line between Plagiarism and Adaptation. ‘Dil Hai…’ is still a nice movie but I have very low respect for Mr Bhatt.

The fact that a movie made more than 75 years ago is still as fresh as yesterday is a story for another post.

My shots:
Contempt (1963, French): Jean Luc Godard’s brilliant adaptation of Alberto Moravia’s ‘Ghost at the Noon’ is a study on man-woman relationship (like most Moravia’s story) with stark/bright colors and a haunting score by Georges Delerue (this score was later used by Martin Scorsese in ‘Casino’)
Volver (2006, Spanish): This all women Oscar nominated movie by Pedro Almodovar has a great script and performance by the attractive Penelope Cruz playing a mother which makes her all the more attractive (speaking strictly for myself).
City of God (2002, Brazil): Thanks to Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra’s and UTV’s combined effort, I caught this cult classic at the theater and the DVD experience paled in comparison. This is for many more such classics in the theater as that’s the promise.
Pentangle: This one is a discovery (by a couple of music pals) and is currently the source of my happiness, almost every day. A beautifully melodious and lyrical band from the 60s got together 5 musicians (that’s why the name) from different genres like rock/jazz/folk to make some very very good music.

Manuscripts of snow

The last leaves fell like notes from a piano
And left their ovals echoing in the ear;
With gawky music stands, the winter forest
Looks like an empty orchestra, its lines
Ruled on these scattered manuscripts of snow.

- Derek Walcott, Selected poems

ps: I can't smudge the beauty of these words by adding anything from my end.

Keeping a promise

As a comment on my post on Majaaz's nazam, 'Awaargi', a good reader had requested me to to translate the song 'Dikhaayi Diye Yun' from the movie 'Bazaar'. It's actually a Ghazal written by Mir Taqi Mir(1723 - 1810), one of the greatest Urdu poets. Mir was one of the pioneers who gave shape to the Urdu language itself. 

I must accept that when began carrying out the request, with my little knowledge of Urdu, I faced a little difficulty and that perhaps explains the delay in coming out with this post (yeah yeah it took me 4 months to come out with this). I have made an attempt and now its for you readers to judge the result. The basic mood of the Ghazal is that of a spurned (and perhaps bitter) lover.

Dikhayi Diye Yoon Ke Bekhudh Kiya

Humein Aapse Bhi Judaa Kar Chale
My senses loses all on seeing you
To the extent that I end up losing you

Jabeein Sajda Karte Hi Sarse Gayi
Haq-E-Bandigi Hum Ada Kar Chale
Prostrate I lay in front you
The only way I know to worship you

Parastish Kiya Tak Ke Aye But Tujhe
Nazar Mein Sabhon ki Khuda Kar Gaye

Worshipped you so hard O’ Stone

That people now take you for God

Bahut Arzoo Thi Gali Ki Tere
So Ya Se Lahoo Mein Naha Kar Chale
Paid the price of wanting to be in your life
By leaving it soaked in blood of emotions 

Khayyam's beautiful melody adds extreme sadness and beauty to these words. I hope that with the meanings becoming a little clearer now, you will be understand what I mean.Ghalib, another great who came a little after the times of Mir, had to say this for him.

Reekhta kay tumhi ustaad nahi ho Ghalib
Kehtay hain aglay zamanay may koi Meer bhi thaa
You are not the only master of Urdu Ghalib

They say there used to be a Meer in the past

Enjoy the long weekend. I am sure am going to because it promises to be like an 'inner circle woodstock' (last paragraph).

Namak Isk ka

Consider this,

"Sara, Sara,
Sweet virgin angel, sweet love of my life,
Sara, Sara,
Radiant jewel, mystical wife." - Bob Dylan, Desire

And consider this,

"Gud Se Meetha Ishq Ishq
Imli Se Khatta Ishq Ishq."
(Love is Sweeter than Jaggery,
Tangier than Tamarind) - Anand Bakshi, Taal

The emotion called 'Love' in the language of poetry has always been associated with things sweet and tangy...things like Honey, Jaggery, Sugar, Tamarind etc. In fact, most of the words that I have mentioned are also used as pet-names by which people call their loved ones. The popular north Indian pet-name 'Guddu' comes from the word 'Gud' which means jaggery. In the western culture, Honey and Sugar are the names by which spouses address each other.

Now, read this,

"Jabaan Pe Laaga, Laaga Re
Namak Isk Ka
(My tongue got the salty taste of Love) - Gulzar, Omkara

It takes a Gulzar to turn to Love into something salty and hot as the situation in the movie demanded it. The song along with 'Beedi' (from the same Omkara) are two of the most cleverly and stylishly written sleazy songs ever from Hindi movies. Check out another line from the song:

Raat Bhar Chaana Chaana Re
Namak Isk ka
(Sieved it throughout the night,
This Salt of Love)

Last time he did something like this was when he turned a 'Mujra/Item' number into a classily written ode to a woman's beauty. Remember 'Kajraare'?