doublethink

While cleaning my old stuff, I surprisingly found my once-lost sketch book, which is almost 12-13 years old. The moths have started preying on the book. The pages are torn too from the sideways. I thought it better to take the pictures of my "childhood skill" (pun intended) and put it here and share them with you guys. If you find that I was inclined to sketch female faces more than anything else, blame it on my "growing-up" phase. :D Enjoy:

These days when I haven't got anything serious to do, I browse a lot. While doing so, I chanced upon a site a few days ago which although is for rock n roll music, but caters to a wider variety of music from different regions across the world. The blog also runs a monthly carnival in which the owner of the site calls for contributions. The theme of each issue is pre-given. I sent one of my pieces from my site, which was accepted for the carnival issue. Do have a look at not only the different interesting contributions but also feel free to explore the site. You wouldn't feel disappointed. The site's URL is http://www.soulofrocknroll.com/ The current carnival issue's URL is http://www.soulofrocknroll.com/?p=206

This is my third composition. And it took me ages to come out with it, however that doesn't promise it to be good, but do have a listen and leave your suggestions. Bear with the audio quality. It took me three hours to actually put it on the youtube and the version which I finally managed to put up was not the one which I thought was best. Nonetheless, couldn't be bothered about changing the recording. My bare IT skills discourage me to do so. The link is: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dYE80NRpcCI

The many meanings of smoking “Smoking kills” – this is not only a compulsory statutory warning flashed on all cigarette packs but also a fact. And people go ahead buying those packs (by turning blind to that message) is also a fact. Smoking is an act, a habit, and for a lot of people an addiction. On a simpler level, it appears, and in some way it is, a personal and individual habit, of course with damaging repercussions for those who have to keep company with the smokers by choice or by default. I assume this is the logic behind recent spate of bans on smoking in public places, so that the non-smokers don’t have to suffer. But, smoking has also come to acquire a social meaning. It is an act which has moved beyond the realm of individual into the social. It has been donned with certain social attributes over a period of time. The role of media in different mediums like adverts, films, and songs are crucial in this exercise. As a kid I remember watching an advert in which a boy and a gi

Linking the nation: Bollywood ways In my last post I talked in some length about how newer means of technology, especially trains, have always found a prominent place in the cinematic portrayal in Hindi cinema. The range of emotions that are depicted through trains are wide, varied, and least to say, interesting. From a close camera-shot of tracks and a speeding train signifying escape, displacement, migration, and not the least death to those of scenes of crowded railway compartments in which the lovers’ eyes still managed to meet (for instance Amol Palekar and Tina Munim starrer Baaton Baaton Mein (1979), railways have remained integral to the ways in which individual sensibilities of a character in Hindi cinema has been depicted. But they signify more than that, at least in Bollywood. They signify a link, a connectivity that joins territories and groups. They signify a medium through which a nation is conceptualised. They signify a continuum through which that perceived or real (wh

More than ten years before, when I think I was still a kid, I heard this song from the movie Hindustani (Kamal Hasan starrer): “Telephone dhun mein hasne wali, Melbourne machli machalne wali…”(The woman who laughs like a ringtone, the woman who gyrates like a Melbourne fish). I don’t know if Melbourne fishes have some special skills to imitate Bollywood jhatkas and matkas but anyways coming back to the song, it further says “Sona sona, cellular phone tum ho na, computer ko lekar bramhaand rachaya kya”, which would translate something like this: Oh Dear you are like a cellular phone, have you created this world with your computer? Funny, isn’t? I simply call it banal. But err, actually it’s imaginative too. Think about this: we have a fairly long and quite monotonous tradition in Bollywood of comparing our heroines with chaand, i.e. moon. Remember the unforgettable “Chaudvi ka chaand ho…” or “Ye chaand sa raushan chehra” from 1960s and 70s? But now, we have something interesting to co

A few weeks back a friend of mine suggested me to listen to a song sung by Soham Chakrabarty in a recent movie Life in a Metro . A well-known musician, Pritam Chakravorty, has composed this song. The track is called "In Dinon Dil Mera". On hearing it first, I thought it was awesome, and in many ways I still think so. The voice is new and refreshing, the tune is catchy, and the lyrics are simple and elegant. But it is not path breaking. And in no way it looses its charm for not being so. Sometimes I feel it actually odd to even raise the question of ‘authenticity’ in this milieu of technologically-aided rapid transmission of tunes and genres and in light of evolution of ‘fusion’ music which itself is a hash of so many genres. For instance, a friend of mine recently reminded me that another song, "Bheegi Bheegi" composed by the same musician for the movie Gangster , released in 2006, was an adaptation of a very popular Bangla song which was known for its strong politi

The doomed diva Har ek mod pe bas do hi naam milte hain Maut keh lo – jo muhabbat na kehne paao (There are only two names on each pathways (of life) Call it death, if you can’t call it love) I am sorry for even trying my hands at translating these beautiful verses portraying intense suffering, tragedy and clamour of an individual. Are there any guesses who penned these lines? I am sure very few of us would rightfully identify this poetess-in-oblivion who wrote many such verses and couplets as a personal way of registering, recording and dealing with her grief-stricken short life of forty odd years. She was born on 1st August 1932 in Mumbai to Ali Baksh and Iqbal Begum (renamed from Prabhawati Devi). Her father was an actor in Parsi theatre and also dabbled in Urdu poetry and occasionally gave music direction in Hindi movies. This girl, Mahjabeen Bano, was the youngest of her siblings and in the family mired in financial hardships she was literally forced to work in films. Her career st

Most of the readers of my blog, I am sure, are aware of the gruesome killings of protesting peasants and farmers by the West Bengal state in India that happened almost a month before. It has got considerable media coverage and some good in-depth analyses are readily available on net. As a mark of respect (I hate to 'sympathise' with a good cause) I wrote few words: Pukaar Aur, is aasmaan ke saaye mein Ye zameen jo door talak dikhti hai, Lahoo ke rang mein zinda hokar Khoye kadmon ke nishaan doondhti hai, Lab jo sil gaye the bebasi mein Ek "Pukaar" jo sulagti thi khamoshi mein, Sathon (surface) ko chirkar jo nikla wo Wo maut hi tha jo zindagi mein utra wo, Kuch mitt gaye, kuch mita gaye Ek aag dilon mein laga gaye, Takht-e-siyaasat to na palat sake, par Takht-e-umraan wo hila gaye. This time to "aid" my readers, I have also done an English version (and NOT a translation). I think I am seriously incapable to do a translation of the above; so the following is j

Fughaan Zindagi yunhi basar hone do Gham badi der se firaaq hone do, Shabnami auns ko phir se batoroon main kyun kar pighalne do inhein yunhi beh jaane do, Us kinaare se aayengeen phir sadayein kuch aur, is kinaare shikasht-e-zaam behne do, Dil mein sauda, zigar mein raqt nahi palon ko thaam ke ye waqt girte hain, Simti ye ghadiyaan, inhein aur simat jaane do is kashish ko "Fugaan" ho jaane do. This is yet another try at writing and composing something. Click on the link below or on Fughaan Sound Track. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VxZXKHsK3mY

Teri Yaad: Teri yaad aati hai Un lamhon ki khushboo se Jo humne churayee thi Sulgi hui saanson se Un behki hui baaton ko Jo humne sunayee thi Dheeme si dhadkanon ko, Palkon pe yun sajakar Aankhon se jo tumne kaha tha Baarish ki narm boondein, Pehluwon mein lapete Tumne jo mujhko chuwa tha Ye dil bhool na paaye Wo baatein, wo raatein... Saanson ka tum pagalpan ye dekho ki thamte nahi Dekho na, dekho na, Lafzon mein jo sil gaye hain, aankhon mein jo khul gaye hain Un khwabon ko doondho zara doondho na, doondho na, Dil ki ye kashish tum jaga ke so gaye Teri yaad.. Here it goes: Something which was keepin me busy from last few weeks. Nothing great, but who knows..;)This wouldn't have become possible without the help of my sweet friend, Suga, better known as Sugri:) Click on the link below or on the Teri Yaad Video. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gaa5kPTwB9s

The journey with the pics would continue and would halt at a place where the echoes of history, the sounds of despair and the trumpets of victory, all jostled at a one place and at a same time. For some it was a world possessed, for many it marked a doom, a doom which has left indelible marks on many of the generations that followed the heroes who sacrificed their lives. Sacrificed for what? Well, don't be impatient, the story would unfurl at its own pace. But the lives of the unheard heroes with unseen faces need to be remembered. The marginal yet pivotal, the unsung yet haunting, for those masked faces a little tribute: Inquilaab: Simat kar baitha hai jo, rooh ko daboche be-aab aankhein aur num si palkein, ek aas hai phir bhi baaki abhi, aur ek Inquilaab jo kabhi kaha hi nahi. Kya juroori hai dard ko ek naam dena aur har sukhan mein lafz ko sajana, rehne do bebas usse kuch aur pal abhi zinda raha toh thaam lega zindagi. Raakh ki dher mein hain chingaariyaan abhi ragon mein leti j