Just being

She was as always caught between a rock and a hard place. This time, however, instead of struggling to escape, she looked around. The air was warm and the moss underfoot was soft. She decided to stay awhile.

Maya was looking out of the window as she sipped a cup of hot coffee, when she saw him, looking at her from across the street. At first she didn’t recognize him. It had been a very long time. Then recognition hit her in full force and she had to look away. When she looked up, he was walking slowly across the road towards her door. She waited for him to knock just to be sure she wasn’t imagining it all. He didn’t knock. She put her cup down and consciously paused for a bit before she walked to the door and opened it. She walked ahead of him back into the living room, leaving him to take his shoes off and shut the door behind him. He hesitated, looked around as if to get his bearings and then followed her. She gestured in the general direction of the sofa.

Maya walked into the kitchen to make him some coffee, but then remembered that he always drank tea. Strong, with one teaspoon of sugar. She could feel his eyes on her as she boiled the water and added the tea leaves. She was thankful for the time this activity gave her to compose her thoughts. What did she have to say to him? Maybe she wouldn’t have to say anything at all and he would do all the talking. Yes, that’s what she would do. Sit in stony silence. Let him know she was… she was what? She didn’t feel angry; not even indignant. This made her a little cross with herself. He was the one who owed her an explanation for leaving her with no warning. He had told her he was going for a walk. No, she steeled herself; she wouldn’t be the first to talk. 

She added milk to the brew just before it boiled over and then took it off the stove. Maya then poured the tea through a sieve into a steel tumbler before adding the teaspoon of sugar. Slowly, methodically. Every step of the process exaggerated to buy more time. She walked back into the living room, her eyes focussed on the tumbler in her hands. She handed it to him and then sat on the sofa across from him. He sipped his tea, swallowed and then exhaled softly through his lips. Some things never change, Maya thought to herself. She looked up to see him looking at her with his unflinching gaze. Time had taken its toll on both of them. His eyes were the same though. They still looked at her like they always had. And she felt the stirrings of emotions she thought had died a long time ago.

She held his gaze as he put down his tea and walked over to where she was sitting. He sat down next to her and reached out for her hand. She let him take it. He turned her palm over and slowly traced the life line. Just like he used to. He looked up at her again and seemed to want to say something but stopped himself. She had so much she wanted to ask; so many questions whose answers she had agonized about over the years. So many explanations needed. But she wouldn’t be the first to talk. That was for sure. He finished the last of his tea in one gulp and cleared his throat. He moved towards her and his lips parted as if to say something when she suddenly pulled her hand out of his grip and said, “So, did you enjoy your walk?” 

A trip down music memory lane

I’m currently obsessed with old Hindi film music. This is a regular feature with me. I go through phases with my choice of music. I have very recently “recovered” from a beautiful Ilayaraja state of mind. This in turn was preceded by my post- Bestival 2009 phase of music that included Elbow, Florence and the Machine, MGMT and Diplo to name just a few. These are phases I’d readily admit to, along with my Ingrid Michaelson and music from Grey’s Anatomy phases. But, there are some that I am mortified to talk about. But, I shall reveal all in this soul- baring exercise. My “solitary secret music behaviour” or SSMB has at various points included obsessively replaying “ditties” by Taio Cruz (“Come on Girl” comes immediately to mind), Scouting for Girls (“She’s so luvverly, she’s so luvverly”), Timbaland (“The way I are” is still a huge favourite) and The Pussycat Dolls (“Dontcha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?”... No, really... dontcha? :P). And whilst I’m still riding out the high of this strange need to confess my SSMB, I’ll even admit that some of these songs are still on my mp3 player. Gasp! Shock! Horror! But I digress. This post was meant to be about my current obsession i.e., old Hindi film music.

It all started off when a friend posted the lyrics of a song from ‘Anpadh’ as her status message on Facebook. I had called in sick at work because of a cold. I had an empty day spread out in front of me and I decided to fill it up with many cups of tea and a trip down music memory lane. Perfect.

There were three cassettes that were responsible for this life-long on-off relationship with old Hindi film music. “Tribute to Madan Mohan”, “Tribute to S.D Burman” and “Tribute to R.D Burman”. They introduced me to some mind-blowing songs that have stayed with me ever since. I’ve acted out, danced to, attempted to sing and have even memorized the lyrics to some of these songs. After a lot of thought and careful consideration I’ve chosen five of my favourites and will attempt to tell you what they mean to me. So here goes.

Tere Bina Zindagi Se Koi Shikva To Nahi

Movie: Aandhi (1975)

Music Director: R.D Burman

Lyrics: Gulzar

Singer(s): Kishore Kumar, Lata Mangeshkar

A common clichéd favourite. But as with all clichés, it is not without reason. The quintessential song not of love unrequited, but of a relationship that couldn’t survive the blows dealt to it repeatedly by circumstance. The lovers meet again when they are old to find feelings resurfacing with the same overwhelming magnitude. The most poignant lines for me are the first few:

“Tere bina zindagi se koi shikva to nahi, shikva nahi

Tere bina zindagi bhi lekin zindagi to nahin, zindagi nahi”

“I have no complaints about a life without you

However, a life without you is not much of a life at all”

I feel so inadequate and unprepared to explain those lines. And the translation, like most translations, does it no justice. Someone who is able to write lyrics like that has to be blessed. Hats off.

As circumstances prevent them from being able to meet openly in the light of day, there is an agonizing aching need for the night to last forever.

“Tum jo keh do to aaj ki raat chaand doobega nahi, raat ko rok lo.

Raat ki baat hai, aur zindagi baaki to nahi”

“If you tell it not to, the moon won’t set tonight. Stop the night from leaving.

It’s just for this one night; it’s not like there much more life to live”

Enough said.

Piya Bina Piya Bina

Movie: Abhimaan (1973)

Music Director: S.D Burman

Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri

Singer: Lata Mangeshkar

She sings to placate her angry man by drawing the most beautiful pictures of how the world has lost its lustre when he isn’t talking to her. In the movie, the female protagonist is actually a singer by profession and there are several other references to the loss of music in her life when he is estranged from her. The song begins with her mourning the loss of music from her flute when her beloved is angry:

“Piya bina piya bina piya bina basiya

Baaje na baaje na baaje na”

She talks of how his anger has caused all music to flee from her lips. And any song that she does manage to sing sounds soulless and false:

“Piya aise roothe ki honthon se mere sangeet rootha

Kabhi jab main gaoon lage mere mann ka har geet jhootha.”

The final reference to how there is no music to her life without him is put very poetically in the line:

“Ke chup hai papiha”

Which literally means,

“The cuckoo sings no more.”

To me, she is the songbird who cannot bring herself to sing because she has nothing to be happy about. If I were the man in question, I doubt I’d be able to stay angry for much longer after this song.

Teri Aankhon Ke Siva

Movie: Chiraag (1969)

Music Director: Madan Mohan

Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri

Singer(s): Mohammed Rafi/ Lata Mangeshkar

A song that can lift the spirit and make you feel beautiful. If you imagine that it is being sung to you. I do that all the time. Yes, I am that vain. The singer is clearly besotted with the person he sings about and is deliriously in love. In the male version sung by Mohd Rafi, he sings of how he sees his destiny writ in her eyes with the kohl of desire, “Chahat ke kaajal se likhee hui meri taqdeer hai”. Goose pimples!  In the female version sung by Lata Mangeshkar she sings “Inke siva ab to kuchch bhi nazar mujh ko aata nahin” In modern terms, it’s that feeling of always being aware of where in a room the person you like is, of them being on your radar. But Majrooh Sultanpoori puts it so much more beautifully, don’t you think? If I could sing, this would be the song I’d sing to the man I fall in love with.

Aapki Nazron Ne Samjha

Movie: Anpadh (1962)

Music Director: Madan Mohan

Lyrics: Raja Mehdi Ali Khan

Singer(s): Lata Mangeshkar

A song completely devoid of any sense of self or ego, the singer is just thankful that the one she loves loves her too. The words “Hanske Apni Zindagi Mein Kar Liya Shaamil Mujhe” reveals almost a sense of surprise that she has been chosen by him. I’m all about equality between the genders and would normally baulk at such servitude, really. But this is too beautiful for such a reaction. To be loved by someone you love is a glorious feeling and to feel overwhelmed by it is, I think, permissible. The singer does hint at a cocky side to her personality when she sings “Aapki manzil hoon main meri manzil aap hain”. Almost like she is telling him in a very matter of fact manner that wherever else he might think of going, he is going to end up with her. So there!

Abhi Na Jao Chhod Kar

Movie: Hum Dono (1961)

Music Director: Jaidev

Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi

Singer(s): Mohammed Rafi, Asha Bhonsle

A song that describes the “can’t-you-stay-just-a-little-longer” feeling, to a tee. The man (played by the inimitable Dev Anand) mischievously suggests that she stays so he can let his gaze wander for a bit more, “Nazar zara behak to le” and so he can get intoxicated by her presence “Nashe ke goont pee to loon”. I love the way she hints at it being night-time and therefore time for her to go, without actually using the word ‘raat’ (night) but instead says “sitaaren jhilmilaa utte, charaag jagmaga utte” (the stars are shining, the lamps have been lit).

My favourite lines from this song are “agar main ruk gayi abhi, to jaa na paoongi kabhi” (If I stay right now, I’ll never be able to leave). I think this also has something to do with the way Asha Bhonsle sings it. With a sort of desperation. It’s not like she doesn’t want to stay. It’s just that she cannot. Sigh.

That’s my list. Here’s hoping we all one day find that gut-wrenching, soul-searing, heart-warming, spirit-uplifting sort of love that makes us want to sing out loud. Even if it’s only in the shower.

Haikus

The first time I ever wrote a Haiku was in the 7th standard at English class with Lalitha Vasudevan Miss. It was fun then and it still is now. Haikus are small, yet powerful doses of literature. When written well they can paint a very vivid picture. Very loosely described a haiku is a three line verse in which the first line is short, the second line long and the last line short again. I've attempted to write a few following the very rudimentary rule of:

Line 1: 5 Syllables
Line 2: 7 Syllables
Line 3: 5 Syllables

Japanese haikus (from what I've read) often have 'season' words in them, that evoke the imagery of a particular season.

Here is my attempt at one:

"Summer breeze blowing
Catches me unaware, and-
Whisks my scarf away."

And then there's the token soppy haiku:

"When I look at you
I want to hold you to me
Never let me go."

[Last line courtesy Kazuo Ishiguro! Must give credit where it is due ;)]

This one's my favourite:

"Phone in my pocket
Comforting whirr of a text
I smile- it's from you."

Fragile

If she was ever near a lit candle, she would draw it close to her. She would play with the flame as she talked to you. Having lingered a bit too long, she would quickly withdraw her finger from the searing heat. You would chide her, she might look sheepish. She would stay away for a while, but the flame would beckon again. The blue, yellow and orange would draw her in. She would then dip the pads of her fingers, starting with the index, into the molten wax pooling languidly at the base. Make fragile three dimensional fingerprints that she would then entrust to your care.

rant

I feel like cursing really loud I don’t want to be in my head right now anywhere but here is the most perfect place in this world I just want to ask everyone’s opinion on this thing but I don’t want to know either here comes a formless scream AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I hate thought I hate thinking I hate analysing things till they fill your mind space and you can’t stop thinking even though you want to stop thinking how can anything come to mean anything so quickly that it can make you feel so much it is bullshit it really is and the fact that I know this should account for something isn’t it ironic that you can be outside your head but not be able to sort out the noises inside objectivity is not my friend today it never has been I should’ve never trusted the bugger




DISCLAIMER: This is just a piece of fiction. Don't ask me what the matter is :) I'm good.

an artist

There was once an artist who painted people’s fates. When he was in a good mood, he painted happiness, joy, success and love. He painted with sunny yellows, luminous oranges and radiant greens. He painted people falling in love for the first time, people dying a happy death, people surrounded by people they love and people in blissful solitude. He painted smiles, laughter, sounds of joyous celebration and the quiet of soundless contentment.

When he was in a bad mood he didn’t paint.

iDoodle

vetti at work...

This too shall pass...

I've noticed off late that I'm constantly waiting for some point in the future. Almost like the present is too uncomfortable a place to be in. When I'm at work, I wait for the next day off. When I'm free, I'm looking forward to something I have planned later. When I'm feeling something- any emotion that even mildly ripples the surface, I'm waiting for it to pass.

In effect, I'm wishing my life away...
Minute by minute.
Event by event.
Emotion by emotion.