The 'SIN'ister Sisters

As i break the 'blog silence' in almost 10 months, I realize how wasted has this time been in under utilizing the space here. A feeling that sinks in when one realizes he/she has run dry of expressing their thoughts through a creative outlet !

Perhaps one of the few real reasons for picking up this course on Developing your Creative Self here at IIM-A is, as I have come to realize, that hidden desire to reignite a passion for writing which slumbers on.

And so follows a sojourn about the seven follies, sisters in crime, that I have indulged in my desire to be where I stand today, leaving behind some of the better times. I think Acedia will be my biggest concern.

Greed is good and Greed is right,

It cuts through, reinforces, and proves men’s might

Greed for life and Greed for love,

Greed in all its forms spread over a heathen cove

Is it a sign of status or simply a vice of mood,

This constant eating of delicacies and Gluttony of food

Withheld from the needy, rotund bellies bulge

The sin of excess, a temptation to over-indulge

A most potent cause of unhappiness, a harbinger it seems

The want of deep and dark desires in each of our dreams

My sorrow for another man’s good, insatiable none the same

A desire to deprive him of it, Envy – it be thy name

From invidiousness flows anger, an uncontrolled feeling of revenge

Not always external, our own inner demons it may avenge

Transgressions born of vengeance, the sin of Wrath breeds rage

Soothe it, appease it, and overcome it through the patience of a sage

The devil’s workshop it be, they say is an empty mind

To neglect and refuse joy, the sin of Sloth is unique in its kind

A willful refusal to work, an invitation to laze around

Aren’t we mortals through insufficiency of love truly bound

But for love to linger as an excess unrestrained

Adultery to incest, deviant thoughts no longer chained

Luxuria of sexual depravity they called it in times long ago

The sin of lechery, through Lust is how we know

Ultimately, a destroyer of men, a liberator of them all

It is Pride that finally goes before a fall

The sin of hubris, of the seven most vile

Transforming Lucifer to Satan, it makes mere mortals senile

Remember 25th December ...

Remember remember the 5th of November,

The gunpowder, treason and plot;

I can think of no reason why the gunpowder treason

should ever be forgot ...

So finally a blog that doesnt require much creativity - blatant bullet points and factual descriptions. And i am sure to some it might look better than the recent disaster of movies i have been subjecting myself to - which includes RNBDJ and Ghajini.

In fact, the overboard southie script to which AK has subjected himself has seriously led me to believe that the guy has become prone to senility and in fact when he signed on the dotted line, must have been deliriously suffering from Retrogade Amnesia - or was it Dyselexia - i forget which ... Ummm ... what was the name of that director again ???

I dont think it cost me much though to go and have a look at Ghajini in between my exams. There was supposedly not much to study anyways. My only repent is that i had to sacrifice my sleep by a couple of hours. I had to make up for the ghastly visions of this horrendous show and script massacre by re-watching Memento at 2am to soothe my thoughts. It was not until that time did i realize the miserable attempt to name the movie after John G. Atleast Johnny Gaddar was a more apt name than Ghajini.

The only key takeaway (as consultants in their analysis would say) was the gorgeous heroine Asin and the songs, which unfortunately were thrown around without a connect. Apart from that I was glad the inspector died a brutal death crushed under a bus and the director did us a favor by not letting him continue further into the movie. What dialogue delivery amma ! And the only reason why someone would have Jia Khan in the movie is to launch a new face parallely without having to bother about second glances at JK. The comparitive base line for Asin was way too low !

(Disclaimer - I will not entertain comments on how fat or flabby Asin looked and how big a butt she has - people just don't realize that there is so much more of her to love that way, both literally and figuratively)

Come to think of it, Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi suddenly seems a lot better - i atleast expected it to be rotten and it did not let down my expectations. With SRK you always know the kind of muddle a film will end up becoming. The best movie scene is undoubtedly the old songs medley and kajol in it. I am still trying to figure out how one fails to recognize one's spouse inspite the makeover - unless the spouse is wearing some voice modulating hardware provided by the CIA. And if falling in love required only but a visit to the Golden temple, I don't get the point of why the teeming millions with love's labour lost have still not made it there.

And so now i wait for the release of some of the better movies in hindi cinema. I will probably catch a late night movie run today of Slumdog Millionaire in the meanwhile. As my neighbour next door quipped - "All of us live the Slumdog Millionaire dream and are already halfway on the path to becoming one. We are all Slumdogs here at wimwi. Its only the millionaire part that is still missing ..."

The God of Bald Things !

I am not sure whether the winters have suddenly become warmer here in Ahmedabad or if the impending release of Gajini has brought this catastrophic turnaround, but WIMWI suddenly looks to have found its new fad these days.

There was an era when ruffian hair and sideburns took the cake. Today the trend has reversed. There has been a sudden flurry of clean shaven craniums all around. I could buy it if one said before placements, i want my hair to regrow and look just perfect. I could also have bought it if one was aiming to beat the heat. But this is suddenly a mushrooming of the vogue.

I can count atleast 4 people in my section alone who have gone in for the Shaakal look, and probably double the number across the other sections too. Pray, explain, what the professor would feel when a triad of baldies are staring at him, sitting right next to each other. These days with the SBC presentations going on, it becomes difficult for the cameraman to record all the live videos with the light shining off the oiled convexes ! "It hurts the eye" is what i heard one of my classmates quipping to the guy next seat.

Now that you come to think about it, all these magnificient bald busts are so different amongst themselevs. Round, oval, egg shaped, close cropped, crystal clear, 'protrusions of a second kind' ! I am beginning to have mixed thoughts on the long hair that i am trying to grow and maintain. Is the fad really out? Or is is this just a passing phase. Are the damsels in distress stumped or 'bald' over ?

What i surely do know is that IIM-A's new hottest telecast that is topping the ratings, is a show called the "The Bald and the Beautiful". Lets see how much longer this show keeps up the steam.

Tabla Beat Science

While for most of us who continue to be mesmerized by the maestro Ustaad Zakir Husaain, it would be absolutely entertaining and a dash of sheer brilliance to listen to him performing with the other giants of the percussion world in a clash of the titans, giving to us some of the best world fusion music.

At times even the blogger fails to capture the music on paper. However a short note copied verbatim.

"Call it an aggregation of some of the best contemporary percussionists: Trilok Gurtu, Zakir Hussain, and Asian Underground star Talvin Singh combine under the sonic washes of producer Bill Laswell to show the possibilities of Indian percussion. It's definitely a beatfest, but one of subtlety, where what is being said isn't as important as the way it's being stated, and the dialogue between hands includes a lot of silences. Gurtu comes from a more jazz tradition, Hussein a classical background, and Singh represents the brash young things of the dance floor. Mostly Laswell leaves it to them to provide the sonic entertainment, which is as it should be with delicate swathes of sound barely intruding, just coloring the proceedings. While it's not for everyone, those who love Indian percussion in all its forms will find this album a complete joy."
--Chris Nickson

In moments like these i am helpless to comment on greatness well beyond my mortal humble self.
So here are a couple of videos that have just raised the bar of instrumental music for me and left me dumbstruck.

Video 1 : Palmistry by Tabla Beat Science




Video 2: Mengedenga by Tabla Beat Science

Toccata & Fugue

When one has had a long break away from writing, when one has turned rusty enough, when one has dried up the thoughts that made life worth enjoying, one often wonders what next to pen down. And often it is the next topic, that next incident, you wish was worth more interesting than the previous one and hence flies by a narrative that was never told, a vision unseen, a voice unheard. It is at times like these that one must find that spark to set things straight, set the wheel of joy into motion.

Strangely enough, for me it happened today. And from the most unexpected sources as well. Of all the weekends i have spent wasting or getting wasted here at wimwi, this one was quite a different experience. I spent almost the entire afternoon and evening listening to (rather more like watching) videos on YouTube. And i probably covered an entire gamut of instrumental music that my heart seem to have yearned for in ages.

It is rather surprising to find myself not falling to sleep listening first to all the jazz of the 40s and 50s and then moving onto my favorites - the string compositions. It was a day of pure ecstasy hearing violin renditions of Bach and Chopin sonatas performed by the Berlin Philharmonic and Vanessa Mae. Aah ! The sounds say it all - a feeling of pain, of pleasure, of joy, of sadness, of longing, of sorrow, of desires, of passion, of fear, of strange whispers ...

But the best probably had been saved for the last. Toccata and Fugue by Johann Sebastian Bach. A mix of haunting notes (remember Addams Family) followed by a high pitch energetic stretch of the chords - covering more than 3 octaves. The sheer pace of the beats, and yet the ever so subtle hand movements. It seems like magic out of thin air. Fresh, pleasant and infused with all the serenity one needs to calm one's mind. And to top it off, the duet between an electric guitar with distortions and a violin.

It just cant help one fall in love all over again. Poetry is good, and ballads even greater. But there is no describing the charm brought on by a piece of well rendered instrumental classic. Close your eyes, and the energy will surround your senses. It takes you to a plain so far away returning seems next to impossible. One simply wishes to stay there forever. All alone, all by oneself - with no soul to break the silence. Just sheer melodious aura and nothing more. Maybe a gentle breeze to carry you on.

I am nearing that state of Tabula Rasa I always wished for. In time i will. There is still a hard path ahead to make peace with my inner self. Till then, it seems like things are not so bad after all. There is still some hope out there - pure, innocent, untouched, uncorrupted, vibrant. Those old memories return. And another phase too shall pass, bringing us closer each day, with Toccata and Fugue and so many more like them to guide us through.