How to sing Blues?

Came across this brilliantly funny piece on the subject...enjoy (dont know thw writer yet, but as soon as i get some info on that...will give the due credit). enjoy...

Most Blues begin with "Woke up this mornin'." It is usually bad to start the Blues with "I got a good woman" unless you stick something mean in the next line. Example: "I got a good woman with the meanest dog in town."

Blues are simple. After you have the first line right, repeat it. Then find something else that rhymes. Sort of. Example: "Got me a good woman with the meanest dog in town...oh, yeah!...Got me a good woman with the meanest dog in town. He got teeth like Margaret Thatcher, and he weigh 'bout 500 pound."

Blues cars are Chevys, Cadillacs, and broke down trucks circa 1957. Other acceptable Blues transportation are a Greyhound bus or a "southbound train." Note: A BMW, Lexus, Mercedes, mini-van, or sport utility vehicle is NOT a Blues car.

"Walkin'" plays a major part in the Blues lifestyle. So does "fixin' to die" and "findin' a good woman."

Teenagers can't sing the Blues. Only adults sing the Blues. Adulthood, when it comes to the Blues, means old enough to get the electric chair if you shoot a man in Memphis.

You can have the Blues in New York City or Los Angeles but not in New Haven or Phoenix. Hard times in Vermont or North Dakota are just a minor depression. Chicago, St. Louis, and Kansas City are still the best places to have the Blues, but Abilene, Mobile, and New Orleans are ok in a pinch.

The following colors do NOT belong in the Blues: antique violet, champagne, mauve, taupe, and peach.

Blues is not a matter of color, however. Tiger Woods can't sing the blues; Sonny Liston can.

You can't have the Blues in an office building or a shopping mall; the lighting is all wrong. Other bad places for the Blues: Kmart, gallery openings, and the supermarket. Good places for the Blues: a jail house, your mama's back porch, beside the highway, bottom of a rot-gut whiskey glass, or a solitary room in a fleabag hotel.

No one will believe it's the Blues if you wear a suit or anything by Ralph Lauren.

Do you have the right to sing the Blues?

Yes, if:

• your first name is a southern state. Example: Georgia

• you're blind

• you shot a man in Memphis.

No, if:

• you're deaf

• anyone in your family drives a Lotus

• you have a trust fund.

Yanni, Julio Iglesias, and Barbara Streisand may not sing the Blues. Ever.

If you ask for water and your baby gives you gasoline, it's the Blues.

Other Blues beverages are:

• malt liquor

• Irish whiskey

• muddy water

• Thunderbird wine

• one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer. At the same time.

Blues beverages are NOT:

• a mai-tai

• a glass of Chardonnay

• a Yoo Hoo (all flavors)

If it occurs in a cheap motel or a shotgun shack, it's a Blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is also a Blues way to die. So is the electric chair, substance abuse, or being denied treatment in an emergency room. It is NOT a Blues death if you die during a liposuction treatment.

Some Blues Names for women: Sadie, Louise, Bessie, and Baby.Women's names which are NOT Blues names: Heather, Jennifer, Emily, and Alexandra.

Some Blues Names for men: Joe, Willie, Joe Willie, Hank, and Po' Boy. Men's names which are NOT Blues names: Geoffrey, Damian, and Keith.

Persons with names like Sierra or Sequoia will NOT be permitted to sing the Blues, no matter how many men they shoot in Memphis.

Need a Blues Name? Try this mix and match starter kit:

• name of physical infirmity (Blind, Asthmatic, etc.) or character flaw (Dishonest, Low Down, etc.)

• or substitute name of a fruit (Lemon, Fig, Persimmon); or use first -and- fruit names

• finish with the last name of President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.)Examples: Low Down Persimmon Johnson; One-Handed Fig Fillmore.

Need a Blues instrument? Play one or more of the following & alternate with husky voice riffs:

• harmonica

• gih-tar

• fiddle

• sax

• pie-anner (in need of tuning)

Now - you're ready to sing the Blues!

Enjoy the long weekend...am off to a solitary beach on the Arabian Sea.

Greed is right!

Was going through the Blockbuster, UK list (a voted one) of top 20 movie speeches and found this one made by Michael Douglas in Wall Street (1987) as number 5 on it. Sums up the 'Greed economy', Capitalism, USA, KBC etc and the larger part of the world pretty well.

"The point is, ladies and gentleman, is that greed - for lack of a better word - is good. Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms - greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge - has marked the upward surge of mankind. And Greed - you mark my words - will not only save Teldar Paper but that other malfunctioning corporation called the USA."

Interestingly, none of the top 20 speeches are from a female lead...

Such is life!

My first phone call of the morning was from my previous office, wishing me a Happy Birthday! It made me realize that today is my official birthday (my working parents packed me off to school at the earliest for their convenience) and things havent stopped since then.

Next, I was greeted by the 2 receptionist as soon as i entered my current office. 20 mins later, I have a beautiful card from the HR deptt with the HR girls singing a loud and sweet 'Happy Birthday'. This was followed by a big round of applause.

One by one, everyone is coming and wishing me in the warmest possible way. And this will continue throughout the day, ending with a big cake and more singing...(here comes another one, 'Thank you', I say).

And throughout, I have the feeling of an imposter...like...you know...I'm not the right guy...well actually I am the right guy, but its not my birthday today...My real one is on...blah blah blah (and here comes another one..."Thanks a lot man", i say)

Am dreading the next person's wishes...stupidly feel that i am cheating them...things are wierd!

And here comes another one with a warm and a really benign smile on his face...am readying my response. This time it'll be "Many many thanks man!"

Where do the children play?

Was reading that New York City, with its rich history of public playgrounds, is on the verge of a bold experiment in the way children play, one that could accelerate the trend away from monkey bars, swings and seesaws used by generations of city children.

In an unusual public-private partnership, the city is developing a playground near the South Street Seaport that will have trained “play workers” on hand to help children interact with features of the new playground: water, ramps, sand and specially designed objects meant to spur the imagination.Based on child-development theories that children need to engage in social and fantasy play rather than just build physical skills, the project was conceived and is being designed at no charge by David Rockwell, famous for creating adult play spaces like the restaurants Nobu and Café Gray and the Mohegan Sun casino and resort.

Once upon a time, parents took their children to city playgrounds to push them endlessly in swings or watch them hang from monkey bars (since removed; too dangerous) or let them struggle with the rudiments of sharing shovels in a sandbox. And both parent and child felt they were doing pretty well.

The new playground, however, aims to do better: Developers of the Lower Manhattan project envision groups of children collaborating, for instance, loading containers with sand, hoisting them up with pulleys and then lowering them down to wagons waiting to be wheeled off to another part of the park.

“Play is not optional for kids; play is how children learn to build community, how they learn to work with other people, it’s how they learn to kind of engage their sense of creativity,” Mr. Rockwell said. “We thought it was a really open field to explore.”

The visual thats coming to my mind right now is of many Tom Sawyers trying to paint their fences, with Becky Thatchers helping them. Nice!

My apologies, Herbie & Wayne (for not being able to catch you guys)

Jazz legends, Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter are performing in Mumbai, this weekend. We got euphoric and my guitarist friend, Bojangles lined up outside Rhythm House, on the morning of the first ticketing day only to experience despair and frustration. All the tickets got over in the first 10 minutes! Deja Vu! Deja Vu! Hasnt this happened before...when Jean Luc Ponty was here?

Still sad and angry about the whole affair, I saw a letter this morning which made me feel a tad better. With the permission from its writer, I am putting that 'happiness inducing' letter here on my blog. The writer, a Jazz afficionado (and a good musician too) has addressed the letter to Lalitha (as you will see) who is writes in Midday, the daily with the flavour of Mumbai city

Dear Lalitha,

Thank you for writing about one of my favourite jazz artists Herbie Hancock whose music I have been collecting since the mid 70's before the age of the CD. Your article ended with the details of the show and the tickets. Perhaps you are not aware of how this was organised.

I was standing in a queue at the NCPA Saturday morning since 9 am because the NCPA told me the previous day that the box office opens at 9. There were 7 people in the queue when I arrived there but many joined the queue later and it was long and winding by 10 am. At around 9.30 am a little boy walked around the queue telling everyone that there were only 30 tickets available. He was trying to forewarn the people in the queue that they might not get any tickets and they should not waste their time.

10 am the same little boy opens the window at the box office. The 6 people in front of me don't look like jazz afficionados for sure. I am the last one in the queue to get 2 tickets. Some of the people in front of me have even booked 7 tickets each exhausting the 30 tickets allotted to the NCPA very quickly. This raises a lot of questions in my mind about how this city is organising jazz and blues shows:

1. How come there are only 30 tickets available when the auditorium holds close to 900 seats.

2. The only tickets available were 30 at NCPA and 100 at Rhythm House. Both locations exhausted their inventory in the first 10 minutes.

3. Who is really seeing these shows for Buddy Guy and Herbie Hancock? Obviously not people who are interested in jazz or blues? Because people like me never get tickets for these shows.

4. Is it people in high places? Is it VIPS? Is it corporates? How many of these people know jazz or have even heard of Herbie Hancock before they saw the first ad in the TOI?

5. Why are prestigious organisations like the NCPA hosting these shows and going through the indignity of offering 30 seats on the last row of their auditorium to the public?

6. Jazz is a people's art. Its not for the rich, the influential, or the monied.

7. Whoever the organisers are why are they going throught the motions of pretending to offer tickets to the public? Why isn't this just a private show for their sponsors?

8. Does Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter know that the people who really know their music are not going to have a chance to see their show? And that the people in the audience who clap in the auditorium are really people who don't know jazz?

9. Why is that our auditoriums are empty for many of these shows and yet tickets are never available in anything but small numbers to the public?

I was wondering if you knew the answers to any of the questions raised or would like to investigate more about them. There is a whole body of people> who love jazz in the city and will not be seeing this show. I wish you could talk to them. I can give you their contact details.

Regards
Prabhakar Mundkur

Thanks for making us music lovers feel a bit better, Prabhakar...enjoy your trip to 'Cantaloupe Island' with the "Watermelon Man' and a 'seventy something' saxophonist.

God, in trouble again!

Towards the end of nineteenth century, emerged a philosopher from Europe and claimed, 'God is dead and I am ready to rule the world' along with the concept of "Will to Power' (brutally misused by the Nazis for their mad purposes) to explain the human beings as having the ultimate power. We all know this man by the name of Nietzsche (pronounced Neethsha from what i heard last from a German names pronounciation specialist)

Today, more than a hundred years later scientists and intellectuals of the world are expecting people's fascination for religion and superstition to disappear within a few decades as television and the Internet make it easier to get information. Scientists are getting closer to discovering a 'final theory of everything' and hence will be negating the 'existence of God' in a scientific way.

Philosopher Daniel Denett believes that within 25 years religion will command little of the awe it instills today. The spread of information through the Internet and cellphones will "gently, irresistibly, undermine the mindsets requisite for religious fanaticism and intolerance".

Biologist Richard Dawkins said that physicist would give religion another problem: a theory of everything that would complete Albert Einstein's dream of unifying the fundamental laws of physics. "This final scientific enlightenment will deal an overdue death blow to religion and other juvenile superstitions."

Part of this final theory will be formulated by the scientists working on the Large Hadron Collider, a particle accelerator at Cern in Geneva, which is to be switched on this year. It will smash protons together to help scientists understand what makes up the most fundamental bits of the universe.

I am not complaining...religion has always resulted in more evil than goodness, so we are headed towards a better world.

'Sex Machine' is 'Out of Sight' - an Obituary

Today's morning gave me a sad news. James Brown commonly referred to as 'Godfather of Soul' died in Atlanta at the age of 73. Along with Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan and a handful of others, Brown was one of the major musical influences of the past 50 years. At least one generation idolised him and sometimes openly copied him. His rapid-footed dancing inspired Mick Jagger and Michael Jackson, among others.

As for me, I fell in love with him the minute I heard 'I Got You (I feel good)' for the first time. I'm not a 'dance' person (to the unhappiness of my girl-friend), but play me any James Brown number and you can see me moving...

Read what Jon Pareles of the NY Times wrote in an obituary that I believe will be updated throughout the day:

Mr. Brown's music was sweaty and complex, disciplined and wild, lusty and socially conscious. Beyond his dozens of hits, Mr. Brown forged an entire musical idiom that is now a foundation of pop worldwide.
"I taught them everything they know, but not everything I know," he wrote in an autobiography.
The funk he introduced in his 1965 hit, "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag," was both deeply rooted in Africa and thoroughly American. It found the percussive side of every instrument and meshed sharply syncopated patterns into kinetic polyrhythms that simply made people dance.
His innovations reverberated through the soul and rhythm-and-blues of the 1970s and the hip-hop of the next three decades. The beat of his instrumental "Funky Drummer" may well be the most widely sampled rhythm in hip-hop.

He won a Grammy award for lifetime achievement in 1992, as well as Grammys in 1965 for Papa's Got a Brand New Bag (best R&B recording) and for Living In America in 1987 (best R&B vocal performance, male). He was one of the first artists inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1986, with Presley, Chuck Berry and other founding fathers.

Only Elvis had more hits than Brown.

ps: later during the lunch break, I played some of the stuff from the man...my body and feet grooved and I became happy. No great artiste ever dies...

Two Smiles In One Day

There are times when you feel good about your country and yesterday was one such day. The Indian cricket team, the Indian judiciary and the intertwined story of human triumph are responsible for this ‘feel-good’. Let me tell you how.

Indian team beat South Africa in their home-turf. While this Test is an incredible story in itself, a tale of great sporting triumph in the face of adversity, it is as much a tale of great human triumph in the face of tremendous hardship and a fascinating mosaic of several individual stories. Big and heroic return of Ganguly, emergence of Sreesanth and comebacks of Zaheer and Laxman. I am not the usual cricket crazy Indian, yet the victory (in more ways than one) gave me a big smile to carry through the day. And it came back today when I read about it in the morning newspaper. The story of this epoch-making Test will be told to young cricketers and readers for a long time, and rightly so.

Even if it's seven years after the crime, justice prevailed in the much-talked case of Jessica Lall’s murder. Rang De Basanti, Citizens of India, the victim’s family & friends, Bina Ramani and the sensibilities (Der Aaye Par Durust Aaye) of the judiciary system of our country contributed towards this much-awaited verdict. Once again, this is a great tale of undying human spirit and its ultimate triumph. So, this news added to my smile and here I am, writing about my happiness. As for Manu Sharma’s fate, I don’t want to hear another capital punishment from the court of justice. To know why, read my earlier post on the subject at http://tangled-up-in-views.blogspot.com/2006/10/short-piece-on-killing.html

Did you also feel the way I felt about these two stories?

'Dark Star' or 'To all the trips I've had before'

Jerry Garcia said, "Dark Star has meant, while I was playing it, almost as many things as I can sit and imagine". When I heard it for the first time (of course, under certain influences), I thought I made an 11 minutes inter-galactic journey with the bizarrest of the visual imageries surrounding my closed eyes....what a strange trip it was! (for more on Dark Star, you can read this http://arts.ucsc.edu/GDead/AGDL/ds.html)

Thanks to one mp3 player gifted by mr bojangles, I am revisiting 'Dark Star' (no 'influences' this time) these days and been tripping with equal passion. So, I sat down and listed some other great trippy tracks from the 'days' and realised that they will always remain the 'trips'. The list:

1. Dark Star - Grateful Dead (the tuning in the middle of the song is the 'killer' here)


2. Highlands - Bob Dylan ( "I'm lost somewhere, I must have made a few bad turns")


3. The Rain Song - Led Zepplin (used beautifully in the movie 'Almost famous')


4. Echoes - Pink Floyd (always takes me to a 'cold desert'...though ive never been to one)


5. T B Sheets - Van Morrison (gotta go, gotta go, gotta go...partners in crime)


6. Sister Morphine - The Rolling Stones (got hold of the acoustic version of it, recently...excellent!)


7. Because - The Beatles (guess the movie 'American Beauty' ends with this track)


8. Heroine - Velvet Underground (very very very heroine...)


9. Sparks - The Who (listen to it alone in a dark room with a candle burning)


10. The End - The Doors (remember Apocalypse???)
    

Genres like Indian Classical, Jazz, Qawwalis, Bhajans, Boleros (specially the one by Ravel) also take you on certain trips but I have limited my list to the 'strange trip' variety (okay...i wont use the word again). My dear 'Do-Re-Me' pals....kindly share your list.

Marlboro Gays

Sony Pix is proving to be a great channel for me...apart from other genres, I've been revisiting old westerners for the last 3-4 day, which in turn made me think of a recent release which can be termed as a 'Disruptive Westerner'- Brokeback Mountain...and it worked!

Contrast is the key to the drama here...2 macho men, straight from the hoardings of marlboro fall for each other, one summer in the locales of snow-covered 'brokeback' mountain.

The movie spans some 20 years of their lives wherein they are trying to balance their respective family lives and the relationship between them. Breathtaking visuals, minimal use of beautiful music and understated performance of heath ledger makes it a good viewing.

With my sexual inclinations, I couldn't empathise with the situation but with my experiences in love, could identify with the emotions involved. A slow pace, repititions of the same situation and a lack of universal appeal are some of the negatives in this oscar nominee. Worth one viewing for all movie buffs (strictly in the theater, but)

To all the girls I've loved before

while my last post was on democratization of music, this one is going to be a sort of contradiction. i get some sort of intellectual satisfaction by contradicting myself...its like i am having an argument with myself (people playing chess against themselves must be feeling the same, i guess).

the idea came up while chatting with an old 'DoReMe' pal. the man recently gifted me 'Closing Time' by Tom Waits and while discussing the song 'Martha' from the album the thought came. lets make an album which has tracks with the title as the name of the girl with 2 filters: a) all classic male bands/singers b) a song each by these greats. here is my list...

1. Ramona - Bob Dylan
2. Gloria - Van Morrison
3. Suzanne - Leonard Cohen
4. Julia - The Beatles
5. Angie - The Rolling Stones
6. Katie Mae - Grateful dead
7. Kathy's Song - Simon & Garfunkel
8. Martha - Tom Waits
9. Desiree - Neil Diamond
10. Hazey Jane I & II - Nick Drake

the album to be titled as 'To all the girls Ive loved before' and sent to our ex girl-friends....what do you think guys???

i shall be glad to hear about your list...

DO-RE-MEcracy

In the beginning we were victims of the format. Names like Billboard & Decca Records etc told us that top Springsteen hit was “Dancing in the Dark” (they still tell you these things) while your personal hit was “I’m on fire” (still is)

They also packaged something like the ‘Greatest Hits’ by Bob Dylan and gave them to you in the form of an LP, magnetic tape or an Audio CD depending on the technology of the times while you kept wondering,‘where are the songs which I dig, man?’ (and they still continue to throw those ‘Greatest Hits’ sorts but who cares...)

Then came Internet, followed by a magical format called MP3 and the world of recorded music became free (the world of music is always free)…suddenly getting music was within the reach of all who had a high speed internet access…it could be downloaded, shared, carried in a small device, logically called the 'MP3 player' and enjoyed by anyone anywhere. No more listening to what somebody else is telling you to, no more listening to it in a particular sequence, no more buying expensive CDs for a particular song, no more waiting for that particular CD to come to a store near you…you could just pick up your favorite music from the country of Net, put it in your MP3 player and make something like ‘Greatest Hits’ by Vishal (ie if thats your name)...music became more personal. MP3 freed you from the other formats and allowed you to ‘Play with Music’ rather than just ‘Play the Music’

I call it DO-RE-MEcracy or the musical democracy!

The saddest poem ever written - leaf from the past diaries 2

When it comes to pathos and 'ishq' (I am still unable to find an English equivalent of this word) nothing beats the Urdu poets. Its almost difficult to believe that a language (and hence its litterature) which is just about 3 centuries old can be so rich and robust. Once again in my past diaries, I found something which I felt can be reproduced for you. Its a translation of (as the name suggests) one of the saddest poems Ive ever read from this side of the world.

Israr-ul-Haq Majaaz was one of the leading poets of the pre-independence days. He went mad after experiencing the gore of partition and spent his last days in an asylum! Below is a nazm by him called 'Awaara'...the pain soaked helplessness the poet's cry is unfathomable. I got exposed to it for the first time from a Talat Mehmood's (that playback singer from yesteryears) rendition of it and then later by an excellent Jagjit Singh's rendition of it from Kahkashaan. Ever since it has been one of my all time favorites so I tried to do justice to my passion by translating it for the larger audience of my friends...

Awaara
Shahar kii raat aur mai.n naashaad-o-naakaaraa phiruu.N
Jagamagaatii jaagatii sa.Dako.n pe aavaaraa phiruu.N
Gair kii bastii hai kab tak dar badar maraa phiruu.N
Ai Gam-e-dil kyaa karuu.N,
Ai vahashat-e-dil kyaa karuu.N

Ye roopahalii chhaao.N ye aakaash par taaro.n kaa jaal
Jaise suufii kaa tasavvur jaise aashiq kaa Khayaal
Aah lekin kaun jaane kaun samajhe jii kaa haal
Ai Gam-e-dil kyaa karuu.N
Ai vahashat-e-dil kyaa karuu.N

Raaste me.n ruk ke dam le luu.N merii aadat nahii.n
LauT kar vaapas chalaa jaauu.N merii fitarat nahii.n
Aur koii ham-navaa mil jaae ye qismat nahii.n
Ai Gam-e-dil kyaa karuu.N ai vahashat-e-dil kyaa karuu.N

Ik mahal kii aa.D se nikalaa vo piilaa maahataab
Jaise mullaah kaa amaamaa jaise baniye kii kitaab
Jaise muflis kii javaanii jaise bevaa kaa shabaab
Ai Gam-e-dil kyaa karuu.N ai vahashat-e-dil kyaa karuu.N


Night has fallen in the city, and I roam disappointed and defeated
On dazzling, lit streets, I roam, a vagabond
It is not my neighborhood, how long can I loiter like this
Anguished heart, desperate heart, what should I do?

These beautiful shadows, this net of stars on the sky
Like a Sufi’s contemplation, a poets thought
But aah, who is to narrate my heart’s tale
Anguished heart, desperate heart, what should I do?

To stop and rest on the way is not my habit
To admit defeat is not my styleTo find a companion, is not my fate
Anguished heart, desperate heart, what should I do?

From behind a palace, emerged the yellow moon
Like a mulla’s robe, like a money lender’s ledger
Like a poor man’s youth, a widow’s beauty
Anguished heart, desperate heart, what should I do?

For those who do not know, Israr Ul Haq Majaz was the uncle of Javed Akhtar and brother-in-law of the famous Jaan Nisaar Akhtar (one who wrote the lyrics for many old movie songs, including the classic 'Aankhon Hi Aankhon Mein Ishaara Ho Gaya).

Am taking a break from Blogsville for a period of 10 days as I have a busy holiday ahead. Until then...

A leaf from the past diaries - 1

while rummaging through my writings from the past, i found something which i thought can be put up as a posting...this is about 3 years old and from my solitary phase.

Once again, the fragility of all things screamed at me. This time in the form of a road accident which left 4 humans and a machine injured (no deaths, thankfully). They were coming back from a succesful business presentation from Aurangabad to Pune. In fact, a few hours before this accident, we had spoken to them about the meeting which had just got over, and had also cracked some funnies. And a few hours later, we get this phone call informing us about the mishap. We got a shocker...any bubble can burst any fucking moment...then why do we keep struggling inside it? Why do we care, why do we cry, why cant we burst it ourselves, break free and kiss the sun? and while kissing the sun, melt within it and shine for the rest of the earths life? Guess we are weak... thats why, guess we need supports...thats why, guess we all have a purposeless existence... thats why, guess we are mere whims who take themselves too seriously...thats why, or perhaps because we are the cogs of this mammoth machine which is running without a purpose...cogs which can think and feel...this stupid machine fueled by 'time'.

The identities of the 4 and the us mentioned above are inconsequential. They are your regular people from everyday life. actually, these thoughts too are inconsequential but its just that i have to put them down. one has to keep breathing even if he cant predict his death - isnt this the ultimate irony of life?

The routine
Every evening a sun rises
Inside my soul,
Beckoning me to wake up
And bathe in its light

I get out of my daydreams,
Brush my mind with some codeine,
Make it ready for the day ahead.
With some coffee and bread.

I hit the roads,
To gather dark snaps of the world,
To hear its muffled eclectic sounds,
With my thoughts wandering around.

Loittering around the night,
I meet one dying morning light,
Getting ready with its sunset.
And i think, 'soon, it'll be time to bed'.

Taking out the pen,
To guide my thoughts into the diary,
I light the last 'cancer' of the night
And start writing by the dying light.

The words melt into a dull slumber
The smoke gets blown away
The slumber melts into sleep
And im back with my daydreams.

posting these words from the past made me happy...how did you feel after reading them?

The egg and the butterfly

As will be true for most houses in metros, Sunday is the cleaning day for my house. That’s the day when elements like time, desire to clean and the cleaning maid converge to produce that shine effect. The way I go about it is like this - I play the role of an opening band for the main performer (who is the cleaning bai in this case). So, I set the stage for the main act by pulling out all the unnecessary stuff from places like bookracks, music corner, dining table and other such places and dumping them on the floor. Later, the Diva comes and gives a rocking performance! (Ok..this nicely described Sunday may just happen twice a month to my house.) Last Sunday was one such occasion.

With Dave Brubeck in the background I was moving from one spot to another with my opening act and came upon the cupboard on top of which lay my travel knapsack. Thinking of the coming journey, I pulled it out with a quick action. In the microseconds that elapsed between my thought to pull it out and the actual act, the following train of thoughts occurred within me:

I have been seeing a pigeon frequenting the top of the cupboard (its placed close to the window) for a while…what if there are eggs there…they’ll come down with the knapsack and…dammit!

Followed by a heart-breaking sound…Phchaaaak!

Saxaphone continued in the backdrop. I kept staring at the tiny yellow and white mass spread on the floor with broken white shell and some twigs. The new train of thoughts:

Shit man…I ended a life…but no it wasn’t a life yet….still man…now the mother will keep on trying to find this…I broke the nest too…man this isn’t good…and I almost knew this was going to happen…had I been a little careful about the whole thing.

‘Blue Rondo’ kept playing in the backdrop.

10 minutes later the floor looked like nothing had happened (i had cleaned it up). But somehow, my heart still carried the smudge and ears the sound. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling.

Then, wisdom came to my rescue and I became better. I thought of how I saved the life of a butterfly a few days ago and realized that I am not so bad. Notes of Kathy's waltz filled up my ears and the heart was filled up with a small smile. It’s a nice way to ease ones conscience…thinking of your good deed to get even stevens with the bad one (am not talking about the deliberate ones here). Try it sometime and tell me if it worked for you.

For the butterfly story, as I always say…you might read it in some other posting.

Some of my 3rd thought!

‘I love the sight of S A L E written with red on yellow, anywhere…I may not buy anything from there, yet it brings a smile on my face’, my colleague Amita announced, while we were on our way to a business meeting. She had just seen it written on some shop, from the window of our moving car. This sent me into a spin of thoughts, which I shall be sharing presently.

First thought (this one had come to me a few months ago also under different circumstances)
Even I feel great when I look at HDFC bank logo.
Reason
My first bank account with an ATM facility was with HDFC and it was a corporate account. So, it means the following things to me
- Symbol of my independence from Dadsent monies
- Source of material pleasures come from this place

Second thought (and this is an Advertising / Marketing one)
McDonalds used this insight to make a beautiful and award-winning commercial.

It showed a baby swinging on a swing. When the swing goes backward, the baby cries but when the swing comes forward, he smiles. This sequence from a different perspective shows us that he is in front of a window, which overlooks the famous golden arch of McDonalds which he gets to see only when he comes forward.

In marketing jargon they’ve given a name for this...its called 'Sensory Branding’. So the brands of today, deliberately try achieving this through odors/packaging/touch/look etc to attract and stay in the minds of customers, while McDonalds achieved it unknowingly. Beautiful, isnt it?

Third thought, in fact some of my third thought (guess everyone will identify with this one)
Remember the smell of first rains ?
Remember the gentle touch of your grandmother’s palm on your forehead?
Remember the feel of your mother’s sari you held when you used to tag along with her to every place?
Remember how the desks in your school looked like with cavities to store pencils, erasers and sharpeners and many scratch marks?
Remember the length of hair of the prettiest teacher in the school?
Remember the smell of your father? (which in most cases would be the smell of either Old Spice or Brut)
Remember the taste of 25 paise orange ice-candy?
Remember, the voice of your first crush?
Remember the sound of mom yelling at you to turn the volume down? (I still hear it sometimes, when am listening to loud music…even when she isn’t around to yell)

This can go on and on till you come to your present which you can use later to make another remember list. Please share some of your ‘remember’ list sometime…trust me, you will enjoy putting them down. I did!

My looooong (5 os for 5 days) were filled with some classic movies (Ikuru being the best), some good new music (which is always a delight), wine (as usual, white) and some really good time with old friends.

A Communist Poet?

Thanks to my upbringing in an Urdu (and a literary one at that) culture, I got exposed to all the great poets of the language at an early stage. From the ghazals sung by the likes of Mehendi Hasan/Farida Khanam to my Ammi uttering 'Shers' on her own to some evening arguments happening between my parents and their friends over a certain 'Sher' from 'Ghalib' (and over unending rounds of 'orange pekoe'), I was always there as a curiois child understanding little, but trying very hard and most of all enjoying myself. The already poetic name of Faiz Ahmed Faiz mustve fallen on my little ears during one of those times.

I grew up thinking that Faiz only wrote about joys, longings and the million other shades of love which is great and beautiful in itself. But, later, when I started devouring his other works (of course with help from my parents, as I have a limited knowledge of Urdu), I discovered another shade of his poetry.The world in its ways of branding artforms called it political or communist or socialist poetry. I feel he was just being an 'Intelligent, Aware & Alert' human being who also happened to be a poet. So, if you combine these 4 aspects you get a man who'd be writing about the incorrect aspects of this world and how to try to set them right. And thats what he was doing...something which isn't particularly there in Urdu poetry.

With my limited knowledge of Urdu and English, I tried translating some of his works for my English friendly friends. Allow me to put up one of them (this one is on an aspect of 'Love' and has been beautifully rendered by Abida Parveen). Please keep in mind that a lot gets lost in translation.

Shaam-e-firaque ab na pooch
Aayee aura a ke tal gayee
Dil tha ke phir behel gayaa
Jaan thi ki phir sambhal gayi

Don’t ask me of my evening of waiting;
How it came and went away
I was powerless to do anything
But your love solaced my heart & soul

Bazme khayal mein tere husn ki
Shamma jal gayee
Dard ka chaand bujh gaya hijr ki
Raat dhal gayee

Your beauty lit up
The room of my thoughts,
The moon of pain burnt out
Ending the night of separation

Jab tujhe yaad kar liya
Subah mehek – mehek uthi
Jab tera gham jagaa liya
Raat machal machal gayee

Thoughts of you
Make my mornings beautiful,
This pain of separation
Make my nights restless

Dil se to har muaamla
Kar ke chale the saaf hum
Kehne mein unke saamne
Baat badal badal gayee

Thought I had all the issues
Resolved when I began
When it came to telling you
Things became different

Akhire shab ke humsafar
“Faiz” na jaane kya huye
Reh gayee kis jagah sabaa
Subah kidhar nikal gayee.

Oh my friend of eternity
Why are you away from me?
How come the morning breeze
Got parted from the morning itself.

I'd be glad if I managed to do an inch of justice to the words of the great poet.

Would you like to have a Drag, please?

Me (almost an ex smoker) & my father (an ex smoker) went to watch the now iconic ‘Munnabhai….’ last Sunday in one of those glossy multiplexes. To collect the tickets (done through tele-booking), we reached 45 mins in advance. This gave us some time to appreciate the newly done interiors of the theater. While doing so, my eyes came across something, which didn’t have much to appreciate in it…on the contrary, it demanded criticism and that’s the reason why I am writing this.

What was that ‘something’?
A beautifully laid out, softly lit, glassy and classy kiosk of a considerable size in a conspicuous corner. The ones that you would think should be displaying/selling branded jwellery, perfumes, international chocolates or exotic teas.

The displayed items were all the brands of CIGARETTES made by the house of ITC, laid out like designer watches or Swarovsky crystals. On the front were two A4 sheet saying ‘NOT FOR BELOW 18’ & ‘SMOKING IS INJURIOUS TO HEALTH’

Criticism:
Selling cigarettes in such a seductive manner in a public place like a Multiplex is incorrect. Kids and teenager with impressionable minds frequent these places, more than adults and the chances of them getting drawn towards visually attractive stalls is pretty high (in fact, I saw that happening). Considering that cigarettes on their own hold youngsters (at least of the male variety) fancy, a glossy way of displaying/selling them will further damage the situation and build a society with perhaps a higher number of smokers than what it would have been without that kiosk.

Cinemax must be pocketing a huge amount by selling this space to ITC, which in turn is getting these potential customers. Both these houses need a lesson in Social Responsibility. Putting up two A4s, way below the eye-level (can be read only by learned toddlers) saying something, which means nothing isn’t exactly Social Responsibility.

These corporates should be following what my father’s response to the situation was. If they have to sell cigarettes in this page 3 manner, they should also put up a full-size skeleton of a human being with a cigarette in his mouth and saying, ‘This is what happens to a smoker’. Sounds logical, eh?

Postscript:
Some of you might be thinking, that coming from a smoker, this piece is hypocritical. But, the fact of the case is that I am absolutely aware of the health hazards involved and hence would not want anyone to take it up. As for me, I’m down to a couple of cigarettes a day and have made a promise to quit it completely once I become a father.

Background Score

in my youthful romantic ways, heavily into all sorts of music and completely into movies, i always carried the concept of a 'background score in everyday life'. i'd be thinking of the right kind of musical score for the situation i am in. for example, while i am breaking up with my first girl-friend, who succumbed to parental pressures, somewhere between the tears my system was humming 'heartbreak hotel' or when i came to mumbai city for the first time, the song was 'ek akela is sheher mein' or whenever i am sitting underneath a full-moon sky, its always the 'moonlight' sonata (btw, the walkmans and the i-pods of today fulfill the same need). one day, i shall develop a book on this concept. for now, i shall limit myself to the subject of background music in the movies.

Bollywood:
Storytelling in mainstream Bollywood is still very much like the traditional Indian art of storytelling (ancients art forms like Ramleelas and Tamashas). The characters are black & whites and stereotypes; the dialogues, melodramatic; the make-ups, garish and the music, ever-loud and jarring (probably, the lack of technologies like a mike also played a role) and the audiences just love it.

Personally speaking, I find all of it quiet revolting to my system, but that’s the succesful template. So, when somebody like A R Rehman comes along and gives a new dimension to the meaning of background scores, its a delight to the ears. Unlike most Bollywood musicians, who use templated music for different sequences (female choruses for poignant sequences or sitar strings for happiness), this man gets under the skin of the script (and he also chooses his scripts well) and writes a score just like a Javed Akhter must've written that script. The end result is what you hear in 'Swades', 'Rang De Basanti' or Water. Of course, he has been tutored by another master craftsman of background score 'Illayaraja', but the pupil has taken it to newer heights.

In the B&W days of movies, we had masters like SD Burman, Shankar Jaikishenand the maverick Salil Chowdhury who treated background score as a separate entity and gave quality time to its construction. For the soundtrack of 'Madhumati' (set on the hills of north India), Salil Chowdhury spent months in the hills of Darjeeling hunting for the right sound.

Before I end, I can’t resist mentioning the ordeal which my poor ears went through while watching an otherwise decent movie. This is 'Sarkar' by Ram Gopal Verma. What was puzzling was the fact that in certain sequences the music was way louder than the dialogues!!! Why??? I want to ask that question to Mr Verma.

in my coming postings, i shall be examining the subject of background score in the movies of other worlds (Mars and Uranus). for now, i shall leave you with a recommendation - pick up the score of 'Water' by Rehman and you wont regret it!

Rock, Bhajan & Qawwali

i wasn't too happy to miss the rock show by INXS that happened in Mumbai, lat Thursday. later, when an old friend gave reviews of the show, it added to my misery...apparently it was an excellent concert with the new lead singer, JD Fortune (who was found through the popular reality show) doing an excellent job.

currently, i am reading a book gifted to me by another old friend on my 30th birthday. its a fine book comprising essays on music & literature, by the famous Czek writer, Milan Kundera known for his abstract writing style in the realm of fiction. this book is called 'Testaments Betrayed'

if you are wondering, whats common between the above two statements (besides the 'old friend' bit), read the following passage take from the above mentioned book. its taken from the chapter on the famous composer 'Stravinsky' but its got to do with rock music.

"At jazz concerts people applaud. To applaud means: I have listened to you carefully and now I am declaring my appreciation. The music called "rock" changes the situation. An important fact: at rock concerts people do not applaud. It would be almost sacrilege to applaud and thus to bring to notice the critical distance between the person playing and the person listening; we come here not to judge and evaluate but to surrender to the music, to scream along with the musicians, to merge with them; we come here to seek identification, not pleasure; effusion, not delight. We go into ecstasy here: the beat is strong and steady, the melodic motifs are short and endlessly repeated, there are no dynamic contrasts, everything is fortissimo, the song tends toward the highest range and resembles screaming. Here we're no longer in those little nightspots where the music wraps the couple in intimacy; we're in huge halls, in stadiums, pressed one against the next, and, if we're dancing at a club there are no couples; each person is doing his moves by himself and together with the whole crowd at the same time. The music turns the individuals into a single collective body: talking here about individualism and hedonismis just one of the self-mystifications of our time, which (like any other time, by the way) wants to see itself as different from what it is." (i shall reflect on this line in some other posting).

brillaint reflections on the essence of rock music. interestingly, two other forms of music, both belonging to the Indian subcontinent and both carrying devotional flavours, embody the same kind of mood as mentioned above by the great writer. they are the following:

a) Bhajans: Popularised by the proponents and founders of the 'Bhakti' movement like Meerabai & Tulsidas, and took place in northern India in the 15th century. Bhajans are songs written and sung for a particualr diety (usually, Krishna) with minimal instruments and a huge chorus. Usually, they begin slowly, building a tempo, and then get into a loop of lyrics and melody which are then repeated several times. The desired effect is to feel-at-one with the concerned diety and some of the devotees really end up feeling that way...The powers of music!

Late Kumar Gandharva, Pt. Bhimsen Joshi and Pt jasraj are some of the great muscians who have recorded lots of these Bhajans for the likes of us to appreciate. Perhaps, you can enjoy them and try to find the link that I am talking about.

b) Qawwalis:
This style was the expression of the 'Sufi' movement, which was parallel to the 'Bhakti' movement, during the same period of time and in the same geography. It was the Moslem counterpart to the Hindu 'Bhakti' movement. Once again, lyrics written to express love for God sung in a loopy sort of way and repeated until one gets into a trance and starts to believe that he/she is at-one with the Creator.

The genius of Late Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan took this form of music to the world arena and with the help of rock artistes like Eddie Vedder and Peter Gabriel, turned it into world-music.

Interesting, how music is universal and connected...always!