Saturday, February 29, 2020

2723 : Tig Notaro

Being a standup is very difficult.
Its easily one of the most tricky art forms out there. For posteriety I am going to record here artists who have made a deep impression on me.

So expect a series on this ( in terms of labels).

Lets start with Tig Notaro. She is not just awesome, she is blindingly beautiful (I mean her work). Insightful, simple and all with a deadpan pause thats probably her signature.

Go for her album.

Wikipedia here. Image from

2722 : Mohammed Rafi

I am not a Mohd. Rafi fan, but there are three songs of his that I can listen to ad infinitum.

Suhani Raat from Dulari

Dard-e-dil from Karz

Chand Mera Dil from Hum Kissi Se Kum Nahin

2721 : Aaye Kuch Abr by Mehdi Hassan/Atif Aslam

The universe knows your state of mind. It always one. We are truly one (I am have started seeing through this duality madness).

And when the music system begins to play "aaye kuch abr" you know there is something connected.

Listen to Atif Aslam sing this (on Coke Studio) and understand what melancholy can feel like.

2720 : Dealing with loss

Dealing with loss is immensely difficult. It's a bit like PTSD. There are part of me that feels like I am experiencing death (of someone else, and probably mine too).
An immense sense of grief.

I am not equipped to deal with grief. A walloping conquerer that smothers you flat.

I do blank certain memories, but you cannot escape whats smashed into your being.

A very shaken me.

Thursday, February 27, 2020

2719 : Bobby Fischer

"How do you defeat Bobby Fischer?
You play him at any game other than chess."

- Warren Buffet

2718 : Parental Advisory

My little one seems to be completely in love with Hip-Hop.
The lyrics are full of "bitches and niggas fucking".

I can see her joyously groove to the beat.

Dont prude me, I love it too. I grew up in the 90s. But I know that it contains a lot of disrepect. Also a lot of angst - rage against the machine.

One day if she became a "lyrical master" - would I be proud?

Dubstep. Raja Kumari, my Raavan is on the way :-)

2717 : One last time

The doctor had given him not more than a couple of days. He had known for a good 28 years that he was edging towards his death. The timing was always uncertain, and the doctor had forewarned him, that when the end came along - it would be painful.

A close encounter with death had transformed him early on (more on that later). A cultivated effort to hide the wedge stuck in his insides....a persona that hid his dissonance. A dissonance that comes from being acutely aware of his own broken compass.

And a health that slacks and wanes. More so, waxes and wanes.

She came to meet him. She looked ravishingly beautiful - long hair, stunning jewelry, peach-colored lips further accentuated by her lipstick. He noticed like he always did.

She hugged him, pecked him gently on his left cheek. He noticed :-). She laughed and said "Ouch, I can see a pink smear on your cheek. Please....Abhi Ghar na Jaana..."....referring to the classic Pankaj Udhas song, that they both adored.

She laughed the childlike banter that only she could, only she would. She seemed genuinely happy to see him. They chatted for what must have been an hour. They reminisced of the good times and the worst of times.

The one time when he had tried to feed her birthday but instead smashed it (inadvertently) all over her face. She had gotten angry, she felt it was a deliberate violation, and he genuinely commiserated that he had made an error. That memory crossed his mind and he smiled. So trivial it all seemed now. He gathered courage and told her a "sorry" for that day. She laughed - a smile of affection and said, "you shouldn't be", "I only freaked because I had another party to go to....and I could not do that with an oily face". After a long pause, during which she kneaded his palms, she said, "Believe me, every birthday since then I have hoped that you shall feed me cake, you never did. You never did take that liberty again, and I shall live to regret it. Will you promise to share cake with me this upcoming birthday?". He did not answer but smiled and clasped her hand back.

As she was about to leave, she said, "I am out to Bangalore for the next 5 days. On my way back, I will come straight from the airport you", "and yes, I shall get Mysore Pak, the one from Anand,....yes I know...the less sweet one.....the one you seem to so much adore."

She pecked him again, this time on his right cheek and his forehead. He sat up, gave her a big bear hug. As he saw her re-tracing her steps out of the room, something in him felt like fading out of existence. Like a pulsar flickering in its last gasp.

He knew and he sighed.
With her back to him, as she stepped out of the door, she did not turn back to gave him a goodbye glance. If only he could see her, he would see that she was weeping. Her eyes smudged with the lampblack, her lipstick like a blur. Once outside the door, she started loudly bawling. Giant heaves of pain. She knew something too.

The universe was witness to what each of them intimately knew. The unsaid would not matter anymore.

Friday, February 14, 2020

2716 : The other me

I am not what I claim to be. The sense of dissonance between who I truly am, and who I try to be (or rather have to be) at unusual.

I love my work, and I love my passions. There is no dissonance in those aspects. But put me in a group of people and ask me to make talk and I feel like a fish out of water.

Is it only me? Looks like.

Saturday, February 01, 2020

2715 : Black Hole Sun by Norah Jones

I have loved Norah Jones for many years now. She is the Ravi Shankar protege, who is the rightful heir.

She sings like a Goddess.....she croons like an Angel....and makes us all writhe like humans are wont to.

Hearing her sing Black Hole Sun is always such a goosebump experience. 

Always :-).

Unfortunately I don't think any streaming service has this we need to listen to on it on youtube.

Go for it and you may just glimpse the universe's greatness in the song.

Do note that at around....4:18, she replicates Chris Cornell's signature riff as a piano chord...and if you catch that, you shall gasp. The same pain....the same hopelessness....the same plea....and the same magic.

On days like today, I really wonder....what makes me as a bunch of cells....comprehend some part of this greater beauty of the universe.....what makes me even see something on the inside. The 
Buddha was right....we are all one....break the ego....and then I know, I love Norah's brilliance, because she is me.