Monday, November 21, 2005

A Love So Platonic Still Exists

Afraid of shadows of happiness,
Lying on my bed,
Scratching pillows with its nail,
Looking for some blood,
Concealing her beastly face,
Your sadness hungers for a life.
And it still has a chance

cos' I never burned that picture,
The one that now lies buried
In the thick dust of happiness.
You want the things changed,

You want the roles reversed,
I doubt, but may be you do.
Well, now that this thought has occurred

I'll wipe away the dust,
I'll lie down on the nails
and embrace your sadness
So that you can sing
"A Love So Platonic Still Exists".

Tuesday, October 11, 2005


Sunday, October 09, 2005

A Winter's Morning

The Cold wind rushes past.
Standing at the window,
With my eyes weary of the night's dream,
I wander into illusion.
Far beyond the horizon
where the blue shades paler
off my mind
and a sublime peace takes over
covered in the warmth of white.
Back after a while,
the morning struggles to break away
from the clutches of the clumsy night.
With all the might
finally somewhere far
there appears the first ray of light.
Golden orange, soothing warm,
It'll be yet another day soon
A beautiful day.

Friday, September 30, 2005

Forget Michael, will India learn to rock?

Sumit Bhattacharya

September 30, 2005

Michael goes to Bed, declares Alec Smart in a tabloid headline about the Danish rock band visiting a Mumbai lounge bar. India is finally rocking, is the general feeling, with everybody from Eric Clapton to Megadeath rumoured to be India-bound soon.

Please give me a break. Somebody.

I have nothing against the mush factory's, or greats', discovery of India, but it makes my blood boil to see the marketing and media juggernaut put its weight behind anything that comes from the West, no matter how dated or clich├ęd it might be.

And that when we have killed some great rock music from India by our ignorance.

Like Lou Majaw, the grand old man from Shillong whose life reads better than any bestseller. He fronted a band, Great Society, that was as good as any the West has ever produced.

When he sang his Sea of sorrow, you could feel the pain of a man who had even worked as a labourer in Calcutta to survive.

I've known hunger since I was ten
Loneliness is my good friend
I've learnt to laugh when I feel sad
When I see good times turnin' bad

And when he asked you to Paint a picture, you heard, mesmerised.

Tell a man to paint a picture
To paint in sorrow, paint in pain
I will look through the eyes
Of a world driven insane

To this day, the 50-plus Majaw organises a Bob Dylan festival in Shillong every year during the Tambourine Man's birthday. But he seldom sings his own songs, songs that will give you gooseflesh with their sheer starkness. Songs like Shadow of the sun, songs like Little man.

Then there was High from Calcutta. With singer-songwriter Dilip Balakrishnan and bass man Lew Hilt at the helm, till Dilip passed away. For those of you who haven't heard Monkey's song, with its out-of-the-world chorus of Sing, sing, sing for a bottle of wine, you have missed some great music:

And he knew that his days had come and gone
But in his heart there was this burning, raging storm
To be free…

Stuck in past, I am, you think? Think again, my friend. Lew Hilt now plays in a band called HFT (High F**king Time) in Delhi. The trio – with Hilt on bass, Arjun Sen on guitar and Adhiraj Mustafi on drums – plays some sublime instrumental rock music.

Then there's 40-plus Amyt Dutta, guitar god, who just teaches students in his Calcutta house on Wednesdays and Sundays. Though he plays in a band called Skinny Alley, the mastery and emotional appeal of his guitar sound goes beyond the band's mostly alternative songs. Catch Skinny Alley live – where they shed their strictly-songs skin -- to know what I mean.

Regional bias, you accuse me of? Go catch Thermal And A Quarter (The name derived from three Mallus and a quarter Mallu who make up the band) in Bangalore with their funk-driven Phish-esque sound.

And come back to Calcutta to watch Orient Express, a ten-piece, authentic Latin rock band with five percussion players playing Latin instruments the way they should be played.

Don't miss Cassini's Division, a punk rock band with stunningly original songs, while you are there.

I am just talking about rock bands and musicians I know about. There are many I haven't heard and don't know about.

In Bob Dylan's words, 'I could forever talk to you, but soon my words would turn into a meaningless ring, 'cause deep in my heart I know there's no help I can bring.'

No record company will touch an Indian rock band -- that sings in English -- with a barge pole. They will push for sick remixes instead, and suffer plummeting sales.

No one will organise enough concerts so that musicians like Ranjit Barot, Dhruv Ghanekar, Sanjay Divecha can free themselves from studio and sessions prisons.

You will just want Pink Floyd covers from an Indian band that manages to stage a show.

And you will still go watch any old trash that comes from the West.

And we, the media, will trip over each other to catch you gushing about it.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Who has changed OUR Life??????????? ........................

Didnt write this one but I relate to whatever is written.

When gulli-danda and kanche (marbles) were more popular than cricket ...

When we always had friends to play aais-paais (I Spy), chhupan-chhupai and pitthoo anytime ...

When we desperately waited for 'yeh jo hai jindagi', When chitrahaar, vikram-baitaal, dada daadi ki kahaniyaan were so fulfilling ... When there was just one tv in every five houses

When bisleris were not sold in the trains and we were worrying if papas will get back into the train in time or not when they were getting down at stations to fill up the water bottle ...

When we were going to bed by 9.00pm sharp except for the 'yeh jo hai jindagi' day ...

When Holis & Diwalis meant mostly hand-made pakwaans and sweets and moms seeking our help while preparing them....

When Maths teachers were not worried of our mummys and papas while slapping/beating us ...

When we were exchanging comics and stamps and chacha-chaudharis and billus were our heroes ...

When we were in nanihaals every summer and loved flying kites and plucking and eating unripe mangoes and leechis ...

When one movie every Sunday evening on television was more than asked for and 'ek do teen chaar' and 'Rajni' inspired us ...

When 50 paisa meant at least 10 toffees ...

When left over pages of the last years notebooks were used for rough work or even fair work ...

When 'chelpark' and 'natraaj' were encouraged against 'reynolds and family' ...

When the first rain meant getting drenched and playing in water and mud and making 'kaagaj ki kishtis'

When there were no phones to tell friends that we will be at their homes at six in the evening ...

When our parents always had 15 paise blue colored 'antardesis' and 5 paise machli wale stamps at home

When we remembered tens of jokes and were not finding 'ice-cream and papa' type jokes foolish enough to stop us from laughing ...

When we were not seeing patakhes on Diwalis and gulaals on Holis as air and noise polluting or allergic agents the list can be endless .................

On the serious note I would like to summarize with ...

When we were using our hearts more than our brains, even for scientifically brainy activities like 'thinking' and 'deciding' ...

When we were crying and laughing more often, more openly and more sincerily ...

When we were enjoying our present more than worrying about our future ...

When being emotional was not synonymous to being weak

When sharing worries and happiness's didn't mean getting vulnerable to the listener ...

When blacks and whites were the favourite colours instead of greys ...

When journeys also were important and not just the destinations ...

When life was a passenger's sleeper giving enough time and opportunity to enjoy the sceneries from its open and transparent glass windows instead of some super fasts second ac with its curtained, closed and dark windows ...

I really miss ........ do u??????????....???????????..................

Sunday, July 17, 2005

An Evening's Dream

Here's a new one "An evening's dream". Dont know why I called it so, it could have been "A day's dream" or just "Daydream". But now that it has happened, so be it.
The idea behind this one is obvious, the dreams. We all daydream, me in particular a little too much. Some of these are fulfilled and some are not. But for me, they all do, if not in reality then in dreams. The ones that happen to you in that state of thinklessness called sleep, when all else cease to exist and what remains is dreams.
Frankly this wasn't the idea with which the lines were written, they just occured spontaneously. Three days later, as I re-read them now, the above idea makes more sense and may be more appropriate as well.

Vanished dreams of the daylight
will find their evening of realization
In the setting sun,
the golden sand and the falling leaves
sing a passion song,
for the one unknown.
No one feels lonely then,
for the moon rises above the hills
to talk to the distant stars,
and lying beneath the beautiful sky
You and I, in our respective worlds
dream with open eyes,
travel to imaginary lands
In a region of clouds
amongst the rainbows,
we talk of love
And as the night passes by
a feeling of thinklessness prevails
when just the dreams remain
and all else ceases to exist.

Monday, March 21, 2005

Burn - II

Is that what one sees
Charred pieces, ash and grease
Or does one
emerged pure
Cured of burdens
and the ghosts of the past
Bless you
My possessed soul
Are you ok now
Open up and talk
See the things
my way
Its all green and blue
everything's new
But what about happiness
And when given the option
to be the dead one
You wanted possession and prison
Its difficult to be free
Isn't it
then to be dead
or possessed
And we thought
someone burnt
But wasn't someone burning
All these years

Burn - I

Will burn someday
Just like that
Just for someone's sake
Somewhat faked up
and somewhat real
To see how it feels
Does something melt
Remember someone telling
How it felt
When its there
and when its gone
But would like to
Keep it going on
For your pleasure
and your pain
To remain

Monday, February 28, 2005

( A Love Song Requires Effort )

How do I feel today
Couldn't have been better
For the moon is beautiful
& I can feel you smiling
This is a jasmine night
Like the one when I fell in love
and tomorrow when the sun comes up
I know I'll be seeing you
Charming just like the rose
My dreams sleep peacefully
in this winter's night
They'll wake up by the warmth of your sun
To rise above
Some realized and some just lost
Shall I curb my anxiety
Cos' someone tells me to do so
Tomorrow will come tomorrow
Till then
Let me write a love song
A song to sing for you.

Monday, February 14, 2005

My Sweet Lord

"Music touches you deep", dont know who said that but the there cannot be anything more true. Often I hear a few tunes and they just leave me spellbound. When George Harrison sung "My Sweet Lord", dont know who was the lord he was refering to. Was it the almighty or was it the lover. To me if there's ever a westernized version of sufiana music, the only song that can lay the claim is perhaps "My sweet lord". While listening to this song, many a times I felt connected, to the almighty, to the mother nature, to the ones I love. And yes true to the every word,
"I really want to see you lord,
but it takes so long, my lord"
Who is my lord, whom am I craving for, I dont know. May be I do but thats not important, important is the fact that music creates magic, a wave of positive vibrations gently swaying, making you aware of how good the life is, how good it is to be in love and to be loved.
Not surprising that I remember the feeling of love this day, somebody just whispered 'Happy Valentine's Day', well not to me though. So what am I left with, perhaps
My sweet lord
Hm, my lord
Hm, my lord
I really want to know you
Really want to go with you
Really want to show you lord
But it takes so long, my lord

Friday, January 14, 2005

In A Moment Of Doubt

Am I in love with you
Shouldn't I know it better
Or just like everything else
Let me regret it later
Wish you life
And lots of time
I'm not able to find it now
You might have taken it
Its for me to see
And to hear
Your music, your laughter
Place in my hand
That thing called fortune
I've lost mine
My words vibrate
Sometime your name
And some echoes are still left
So let them pass
Then I'll start
Questioning myself again
Am I in love with you
Or is it just a feeling
That will pass away with time
Just like you did.