The big 23

Just the other day I was reading a post by a fellow blogger on turning 30 and how she cried almost every day thinking about it. Suddenly it dawned on me, I was turning 23 in a few days,  precisely in less than two days.

23 is no way a milestone, but it in fact is a constant reminder that you are inching towards one, hiding in 25. You are now moving closer to having all the symptoms of what they call- a quarter life crisis?  Plus I prefer even number to odd ones..I am sure I will enjoy my 24th, 26, 28th but not the 23rd, 25th and 29th etc etc.

When you are 23 the least expected out of you is to have found a boy to spend the rest of your life with. But in my case, that certainly doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon. The next is to have a stable career, which I do now..to have friends to get drunk with, which I do...to have a car, umm ok lets not get there.. The point is, by this time people expect you to have figured it all out. But guess what, I still haven't. And it is ok, because life is more than just crossing milestones, it is about the journey itself.

And the only song I can think of to sum up this feeling is 'Moving on' by Soulmate.

(More will follow on how the day went)

RIP

I really wish you could have made more music, the ugly stuff got to you, rest in peace.


Well Sometimes I Go Out, By Myself, And I Look Across The Water.

And I Think Of All The Things, Of What You're Doing, And in my head I Paint A Picture.

Since I've Come Home, Well My Body's Been A Mess, And I Miss Your ginger Hair, And The Way You Like To Dress.

Oh Wont You Come On Over, Stop Making A Fool Out Of Me, Why Dont You Come On Over, Valerie.

Valerie
Valerie
Valerie

Did You Have To Go To Jail, Put Your House Out Up For Sale, Did You Get A Good Lawyer.

I Hope You Didnt Catch A Tan, I Hope You Find The Right Man, Who'll Fix It For You.

Are You Shopping Anywhere, Change The Color Of Your Hair, And Are You Busy.

Did You Have To Pay That Fine, That You Were Dodging All The Time, Are You Still Dizzy.

Well Since I Come Home, Well My Body's Been A Mess, And I Miss Your Tender Hair, And The Way You Like To Dress.

Oh Wont You Come On Over, Stop Making A Fool Out Of Me, Oh Why Dont You Come On Over, Valerie.

Valerie
Valerie
Valerie

Well Sometimes I Go Out, By Myself, And I Look Across The Water.

And I Think Of All The Things, What You're Doing, And In My Head I Paint A Picture.

Since I've Come Home, Well My Body's Been A Mess, And I Miss Your Tender Hair, And The Way You Like To Dress.

Valerie
Valerie
Valerie
Valerie
Valerie
Valerie
Valerie
Valerie

Why Don't You Come On Over Valerie...

MUST DO #107

                               Because music will never abandon you, deceive you or leave you.

The new room :)

Will add more pictures as I make newer additions.. 

Heehaww! yea..

But I love mine :)

RIP: Sony Walkman (1978-2010)

 As the iconic Walkman lies in the death throes today, I mourn and weep profusely by remembering what it meant to own a Walkman in those days.


For anyone who grew up in India in the 80s, the walkman is synonymous with collecting numerable audio cassettes of Kenny G or the U2. Almost every teenager could be spotted walking around with the bulky player strapped onto their waists until much slimmer versions were launched by Sony. Just like your first pair of Ray Ban Wayfarers or the Reebok shoes, Sony Walkman was a must have in the post liberalized India.

Legend has it that the walkman was conceived by an audio engineer, Nobutoshi Kihara for Sony Chairman Akio Morito, who wanted to listen to his favourite operas on long international flight journeys. Would you ever buy it if it were to be called ‘Stowaway’ or ‘Soundabout’? Thanks to the popularity of Superman in those days, Walkman came to be named. Though the makers hated the name Walkman, they had to stick to it as expensive promotional campaign had already begun. But soon it became the most loved gadget across the globe. With almost 220 million cassette players sold so far, the Sony Walkman is unarguably the most loved gadget of our times.

A steep drop in sales has forced Sony to stop the production from their Japanese manufacturing unit after the last batch is off shelves. Though officials at Sony say they will continue production from their unit in China, till they see a demand mostly coming from Europe and some Asian countries. So don’t bury your walkman dreams as yet. As customers are increasingly switching to the portable, sleek and compact designs, it was only evident that Sony took the decision of putting an end to production of this much adored gadget across generations. Are they still available even if the production has stopped? Curiosity got me onto the metro and hop off at Karol Bagh to walk down to Gaffar Market. I was still looking for the lost ruins of the immortal Walkman. After hours at the maze-like neighborhood I ended up in shop no. 40 and was greeted by a Chinese Walkman look-alike called ‘Super’, half the price but not even half as charming as the original.


In 1979, when it was first launched, journalists were given Walkmans and were asked to walk around listening to explanation on them. Though it gathered poor response initially, kids in Britain had already started to demand a walkman from their parents a year later. I remember my first brick sized Walkman that grandfather reluctantly purchased for me. It was the 90s by the time I got hold of them; also because that’s when I started listening to what I now call music that defined me. By now Walkmans had become cheaper, more celebrated possessions and less bulky. When it was a few years old and the play button had by now been worn out due to overuse, I stuck it together with sellotape and we were happy to rock and roll again. No product would ever come close to capturing what it meant being a teenager in the 80s.


During long train journeys I remember getting off stations to load up on lithium batteries to get my humble set going. I have come a long way since then, now I use the Sony Walkman W series that looks very futuristic and nothing like the original Walkman. I remember how I used to tire out all my A sides and would often not end up moving to the B side.


Soon the walkman was succeeded by the Compact Disc players. Cousins from America would be kind enough to bring me CDs of Pearl Jam and Nirvana to add to my collection. It soon became fashionable to boast of a CD collection. The Walkman came as big relief for most teenagers as it gave them some moments of solitude from prying eyes of the elders. This gadget liberated us like no other by making the listening experience easy and on the go.


A friend described the Walkman, ‘a seminal piece of technology’ remising fond memories of making mix tapes for his sweetheart and labeling them with love notes right through his teenage years. But today all our music is stored digitally on swanky iPods and other digital music players. The walkman was a huge influence on the popular culture. It was almost like the iPod of the 80s. It won’t be long before a walkman becomes a collectors’ item and is sold for not less than a few thousands at Chor Bazaar.

Fucked and sucked: Arab Strap

It is quite a pity that I discovered Arab Strap fairly late. Now theirs is not the kind of music I was hunting for, but it was more of a chance encounter and boy! do I love them or what?? I have been listening to all their albums since the 1990s on the loop now. And they are amazing company during these painful examinations.

Arab Straps last album, The last romance is quite a mix of alternative and profoundly indie numbers. My favourite being Stink for its eclectic and bold lyrics. Check it out :

"Burn these sheets that we've just fucked in



My weekend beacon, I've been sucked in


Just one more time and then you'll get tucked in


I think you might still be my best"

I checked their lyrical theme and I was sure it would be : bold, brash and real. These lyrics are about raw emotions that we usually try to hide in the niceties of the romantic-dreamy-starry eyed narrative. Vocalist Moffat's unpretentious voice lends the perfect blend to the crude lyrical notes. It is quite clear how much he hates the drama morning after ;) I am not surprised they call themselves Arab Strap ;)

Note to self

It is quite a wonder how most of my reflective experiences occur in unusual places namely the toilet seat, in the bathroom while washing clothes or while waiting in the queue to fill water amongst many others.



Today while washing truckloads of clothes that accumulate due to my habit of changing clothes at least four times a day, it occurred to me how I need to adjust my focus. For a very long time a constant thought had been bothering me. I simply could not pinpoint on the reasons but at the back of my mind, it kept nibbling on my tiny brain.


As I was clearing out my stack of dirty laundry, I was simultaneously clearing out my mind as well; very metaphorical it turned out to be. I smiled and thought of putting down this experience on the blog.


It occurred to me that, though I am existing now I need to start living again. Do things I used to do to be happy. Think of good things so I dream of them at night. Though I know all of this will happen only after the next five months pass. But at least I can look forward to the time after so that these five months pass soon.

“A person is a success if they get up in the morning and gets to bed at night and in between does what he wants to do.”  Bob Dylan

Six hours in Shillong

Shillong happened just like that. On an evening when I was supposed to be in Delhi, on a whim I decided to first go to Guwahati and then to Shillong. I took the first flight out and with just two days in hand head out to a place I had only heard of or read about.


I planned to travel with a Maharashtrian family who were staying in the same hotel as I and we shared a cab together right upto Shillong. I had six hours, a bunch of strange people for company and whole lot to see. It wasn’t exactly an ideal situation but I wanted to make the most of all that I had. Though the initial plan was to travel to Tinsukhia, but my Daddy rubbished all demands within minutes of putting it forward and I settled for Shillong.

The drive from Guwahati to Shillong was laced with more than just potholes. What caught my fancy were tribal women selling neatly cut pineapple and jackfruit all along the highway. Not to forget the spicy bamboo pickle, I think it is the only pickle that I’d ever like to have considering I hate pickles. The weather was gloomy, the mountains green and people friendly. I read somewhere that the only places one can locate any culture is in its people and their behaviour.


It was a perfect milieu of bonhomie and a whole lotta love. Now there is something more to this story which may also be the reason for me smiling ear to ear throughout the drive. It was so overwhelming that I could even get through the pain of travelling with a bunch of people who knew nothing about the place or its people; they were just there to spend money and boast of a vacation to a far off land.


As I neared Shillong I saw why my friends gushed about Shillong so very often. There were tiny houses, pretty girls in their best and little boys with pink cheeks waving at every passing car. Group of teenage boys strumming Californication on their guitars and all of it happened in perfect rhythm. Music was everywhere, to the extent that I paused  my iPod and within seconds put it off. I wanted to hear the sounds of Shillong and sink into the sights of the city. As instructed by a friend I headed straight to City Hut for a nice meal and strolled around the Police Bazaar locating places I had only heard of before.

                                    
Next pit stop was the View Point. The winding roads up to the point had by now drenched in rains and very little was seen of the Military area around it. As I stepped out of my car, I sudden spell of cold gripped all of me. It was too much of a change from the warmness of the city to the chills of the mountains. I saw all of Shillong washed in bright sunshine from where I was.


Like this very piece my trip was half done too. I couldn’t see more than half of the places I wanted to. Couldn’t listen to all the beautiful music I wanted to, couldn’t meet all the people I wanted to yet. Yet I loved every bit of whatever little I saw. So a next one should be planned soon. Till then, a little tip for all travellers: Never travel with ignorant fools, trust me no matter how smart you are, they will make you feel like a fool as well. I wish I had known. 

Newbies- II

Ok, the first list did not quite work out the way I wanted, blame it on.. oh just forget it. One should always look forward to newer things

So here is part II

Next purchase: Almost French by Sarah Turnbill

New song stuck on my lips: Anyone else but you by Moldy Peaches

New favourite author: Pico Iyer

Next film to watch: This list is quite long actually. Eat, pray, love. The  Social Network. The King's speech. The tourist.

New thing on "to buy when I have a real job list" is a Vacation to Venice

All that is on

It was a fairly good weekend. On second thoughts it was one of the best weekends in a long time. A and I sneaked S inside our hostel which was not a big task. We partied all night long and slept off ranting intellectual shit!



Today was made because of the awesome Almond Tarts, they were heavenly. A walk around the quaint little lanes of Koregaon Park can be so inspiring was also discovered only today. Lush green, purple air and blue skies.


The rest remains the same with a little change maybe, I smile a lot now <3

Done.Dried.Happy

It is ready, well almost. After a series of mini mishaps, it is looking neat nonetheless. Only wish I hadn't carelessly dropped a bottle of paint on it.

My virtual Bombay

What do I do to keep in touch with Bombay when I am not in Bombay?

1.       Subscribe to Brown Paper Bag and read it religiously. The two scouters are like my saviors. CNNgo  is pretty cool too.

2.       For all the Bluefrog  gigs that I do not make it to, I have Awdio. It is the coolest thing ever only if you have good internet speed.

3.       Read highlighted lines from the Maximum City by Suketu Mehta and Shantaram

4.       Get updates from fellow Bombaywallahs.

5.       Snap at people who call it Mumbai or Mumbhaaai or Mumbaeee.

6.       Dream of Bombay every night

What's up California

Right from The Beach Boys, Buffalo Springfield, The Doors, Eagles to Motley Crue and Green day, I love'em all. Surprisingly they have all originated in California. I still haven't been able to figure what could be this... there ought to be some magic in the air... Till then

"Well, I just got into town about an hour ago
Took a look around, see which way the wind blow
Where the little girls in their Hollywood bungalows

Are you a lucky little lady in the City of Light
Or just another lost angel...City of Night
City of Night, City of Night, City of Night, woo, c'mon

L.A. Woman, L.A. Woman
L.A. Woman Sunday afternoon
L.A. Woman Sunday afternoon
L.A. Woman Sunday afternoon 

Drive thru your suburbs
Into your blues, into your blues, yeah
Into your blue-blue Blues
Into your blues, ohh, yeah "

Who's in?

Block July 15 to July 18, 2010 this year. It is Ladakh Confluence in its second year, bigger, better and of course lovelier with a whole lotta love promised. The line up looks something like this at the moment: -

Manu Delago

Christopher Pepe Auer

Karsh Kale (Website under construction btw :P )

Viku Vinayakram

Rajasthan Roots

Young Musicians of the world

Something Relevant  (Wonder why, well ok!! )

Jamie Catto

Supersonics  ( :-) )

(Courtesy: The Ladakh Confluence 2010)

Something I did - II

Too much has already been said and nothing can be written more. I love them a lot and no its not a shoe:P

Something I did

After a stressful day at work, I come home with doors playing in my ears. I start looking for an old book, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, because it is one of those "feel good" books I keep going back to in times like these. I end up finding not the book but some leftover paint boxes.

I quickly shower and I make this

 
 
 

 

  "I see myself as a huge fiery comet, a shooting star. Everyone stops, points up and gasps "Oh look at that!" Then- whoosh, and I'm gone...and they'll never see anything like it ever again...and they won't be able to forget me- ever." - Jim Morrison

Leaving Home: a journey closer home

Gone are the days when making a film required a fat producer, extravagant sets , a superstar. It is all boiling down to low budget, real people, real settings, its time for Cinema Verite to go commercial. And the best part is, movie makers are taking the risk, diving straight into the hearts of their audiences and making some pocket money as well.




This Friday (2nd April) releases, Leaving Home: The Life and Music of Indian Ocean. The two hour rockumentary is about this ageing band’s journey that began more than a decade ago. Indian Ocean, rooted deep in Sufi, Indian classical and folk music, saw success with Bandeh. This Hindi rock song, featured in Black Friday and catapulted the band to commercial hit. Youngsters loved them and thus slowly they built a huge fan following by performing across Indian, frequent tours to the US and an album that released more than four years ago.


The film is rightly timed, considering the band is contemplating their next album release soon. After losing Asheem Da, their lead man, Indian Ocean did not waiver or fall apart * Touchwood*. People die, but they leave behind music that keeps resonating for years to come. I am looking forward to the film and hoping that this trend just doesn’t stop here. This may be the moment, for documentary films to make a mark, turn the tables and the talent to get noticed.

Radio killed the video star

When 50 girls are fighting over one remote control. When even the wonders of youtube become boring. When all the films on your hard drive have been watched by you a million times, you are even condition to emote by just listening to the sounds (Too much of Pavlov off late).


Comes to my rescue Myopusradio


Though I always keep hoping for faster internet speed. And I am a satisfied girl




R.I.P Gina . You will always be remembered

Loss

Rhythm and music, sounds and sights have always dominated my growing up years. I was put in a music school when I was barely three, I would literally go there every day only to sleep, because every song would be like a lullaby to me. Grandma is a Carnatic classical vocalist. Even at 82 she has a voice that could send you in a deep trance. My mom is a walking talking juke box; forget dad he cannot sing, the reason why I hated nursery rhymes. (I could recite rhymes when I was one and a half year old ;))
In spite of starting my training that early I haven’t been able to learn all that I was supposed to. Blame it on my laidback attitude and lack of patience to learn the craft. Granma thought I could be a good singer, but I never gave myself a chance and it’s turned into a big repentance today.
My fate with classical dance form ended the same way. After spending 11 years matching my steps to the beats, I had to quit mid-way. Even today when I see someone perform on stage, tears roll down my eyes. It reminds me of my failure and how I would never wear that beautiful Saree and the gracious ornaments, how I would never have my palms smeared with Alta and tie those Ghungroos... or wait. May be its still not too late!