Music Panacea

How much ever I temper my mind, 
it does not seem to get tamed 
And falls prey to the tormenting questions 
that have no answers


And so, 


I seek music


To clear my mind clouded with contemplation
As company to the monologues in my mind
To temper my mind further and 
To shield it from miseries.


Dated: June 23, 2011

If by Rudyard Kipling

If

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
‘Or walk with Kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!

You, me, and metaphysics

Your thoughts spread on my brain
like
Ink on a blotting paper.


Your confessions liberate me 
like
Balloon filled with helium.


Your presence make me feel
like
I am a log on water.


Your words sting me
like
Arrow from a taut bow.


Your letting-go act makes me 
like
A ball thrown in the air.


You go away and yet I am
like
A ball sunk in the water.


All I do is
to follow the law of physics;
and when you are with me,
Who am I to defy gravity?

Some Retro Records to Welcome 2012

Mishaps are like knives that either serve us or cut us,
As we grasp them by the blade or the handle.
~ James Russell Lovell


I complained I had no shoes
till...
I saw a man that had no feet.
~ Author Unknown


Experience is a hard teacher
because she gives the test first,
the lesson afterword.
~ Vernon Law


When one door closes another door opens;
but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door,
that we do not see the ones which open for us.
~ Helen Keller


Tell me and I'll forget;
show me and I may remember;
involve me and I'll understand.
~Chinese Proverb


Leadership is doing what is right,
even when no one is watching.
~ Marquis de Vauvernargues


What lies behind us and what lies before us
are tiny matters
compared to what lies within us.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson


Worrying is like a rocking chair,
It gives you something to do,
But it does not get you anywhere.
~ Unknown


Our greatest battles are that with our own minds.
~ Jameson Frank


For every minute you are angry,
you lose sixty seconds of happiness.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Dated: Sometime in 2003 - 2004
The above quotes are a few of the yields of my recent dusting.

You and me

You at the cafeteria...
My eyes have done this a thousand times now:
Wander for a while and trace back to you.
Like a ball set in motion at the rim of a funnel.

Translation of Kadhal Vaithu from Deepavali

Love Sunk

I awaited embracing all the love and desire,

trying to sieve your voice in the air…

In your mirth I realized music.

In your drift I realized direction.

I fell into the sea of love,

but remained afloat even after I was ashore.

Your moves made me move.

Alas! I vanished beautifully and seen nowhere.

Every time I heard the fairy tales,

I dismissed them to be farce.

But when my eyes met yours,

they fathomed it cannot be false.

My dainty mornings arise

with the sweet hope of seeing you.

My dusky evenings set

with the intoxication of having seen you.

The day I saw you

Mesmerizes me like the day of my dawn.

The words I spoke to you

echoes deep down inside my heart.

You made me

speak to the sea,

and

sham the concept of time.

You made me

bathe with the rain

and

celebrate the sun.

Childlike Joy

I twisted and curled in my bed.

Forget it. You are crazy, I said. 

I thought I would be able to tame, 

But my heart was not game. 

Yet again I was moonstruck. 

Could not say if it was good or bad luck. 

And when clock struck three,  

I thought I must let it free  

and stop the insane spree.  

I was so fixated that I would not rest. 

And went on as long as the joy would last, 

Till I got all the words right. 

And then when I was finally done, 

All I could say was... a-w-e-s-o-m-e! 

About this masterpiece from the maestro's son.

The above was what exactly happened just before, during, and after my attempt to translate the song Kadhal Vaithu... from Deepavali.
Coming soon... 

P.S.: After a few rounds of editing, I removed a few lines from the above piece to give it some twist... :-)

.
.
.
 Could not say if it was good or bad luck. 

Translation thoughts were firmly stuck.

And when clock struck three,  
I thought I must let it free  
and stop the insane spree. 

So I left the bed,

With the song looping in my head.

I was so fixated that I would not rest. 
.

.

.

Translation of Un Perai Sonnale from Dum Dum Dum

What is in Name?

All I say is your name, and sweetness takes over me.
Please do not depart me.
All I do is walk with you, and new blooms brim my path.
Would you not go with me?

Countless thoughts of you lurk in my mind,
ready and waiting to devour my life.

I shatter down, fleck by fleck, on the floor.
Oh dear, where are you?

I forget the consonants and the alphabets too.
And sooner, I turn dumb.

Like the child that is aware but yet teases the fire,
I hark back to think of you...
And the pain creeps through.

I tremble like the base and throb like a drum.

How can life and flesh be apart?

Is this fate or a way out?
Why throw thunder on a plant?
Don’t go away. Don’t go away…

My love!
Do you say this is not the reality, or that you do not remember?
Would you say who you are—my friend forever, or just a passer?
Utter the answer, my sweeter part.

Oh sanguine sun!
Why do you torment the moon?
Won't you tell me all your pain?
Why did you stir a storm, inside this red screw pine?
Won’t you tell me, oh divine?

Disclaimer: I hope that except for ‘I tremble like the base and throb like a drum,’ I have done justice to the rest of the words. If not, do let me know!

___

I am yet again on translations... This time it is my long-lost love—‘Un Perai Sonnale’ from ‘Dumm Dumm Dumm’. I wonder why and how I had missed this beautiful song? And even more of a wonder is why and how Karthik Raja has been missing his trains so much after such beauties in the movie. A real sparkle, this one and the song ‘Ragasiyamai’ is! And of course, both Sadhana Sargam and Unnikrishnan's parts and versions (in the same song) are on par and brimming with the right emotions. My only complaint is that, in the movie, the song is not visually complete. If it were, then I am sure we would at least get to see the song more often on air.

More wonderings…

Like asking ‘How can life and flesh be apart,’ I think I must also ask ‘How can music and words be apart?’

My love and thirst for the song was quenched when I was able to translate the words; but what do I do to the music. Alas, I cannot translate or render it!

Snack break

Just a few minutes ago, I had this urge or a kind of an obsessive compulsion to drink coffee from the new CCD vending machine. Of course, my mind and heart did not sing the same notes. My mind was mindful of the calories in the cup of coffee but my heart was with the pleasure in the sip. Just when I was leaving my seat, a conversation picked up and a while went by and I was again in two minds.

I thought aloud about my coffee thoughts and immediately, my friend offered me a box and asked me to snack it.

I looked the box-and-spoon setup eagerly. The spoon was lying supine on the chill steel box. It was resting stylishly, with its lower-head and mid-torso touching the box. The face of the spoon had some white particles and it deceived me into believing that it was a popular South-Indian snack called Puttu—not the piped version, but the powdered version. As opposed to the folks who know the Puttu that is cylindrical, I have always known it only by its powdered form. At least that is how my parents prepared it. For the unknown, whatever the shape of the Puttu is, it is primarily a steamed dish, with its main ingredients being coarsely powdered rice, grated coconut, and my version had sugar as well. If it is a rich man's version, then it had cashews sautéed in ghee.

So, I separated the couples—the spoon and the box, and went into the separation act a further beyond. I removed the lid of the box and in front of my eyes was something that looked very much like Puttu, but it was not snow-white. It was mid-way between white and cream, glistening, and it also had speckles of black sparsely placed.

As is the nature of anyone, I was first devouring the snack with my eyes, wondering how it would taste. Then, immediately, I spaded out a portion with the spoon and passed it on to my mouth. It was hard, like the cold truth as against the soft Puttu, which was like the sweet lie.

For sure it was not Puttu. But then, the glistening part was sugar and the black speckles were that of the coconut skin. So, with most of the constituents figured out, I now delved into understanding what the main part was. It was an enigma in a true sense!

As I was ruminating, the suspense was spread across, as the box travelled to the nearby bays—word-of-mouth marketing! More eyes and taste buds were now examining the make of the snack. The most common guesses of the eyes were that it was Puttu. Some of the buds said it was stale bread powered and garnished with coconut and sugar—that was certainly for the comic reliefs! More guesses came in and none came close to the actual. Finally the hands and mind that made it revealed that it was powdered Murukku (a snack made for Diwali with primary ingredients being urad and rice flour) mixed with all other constituents that most of them rightly guessed.

Later on, I checked to see how many Murukkus were powdered to make a box-full of snack. They were 25. In fact, it would make a good puzzle—how would you fit 25 Murukkus in a medium-sized box?

Altogether, the snack break was a success; kindling all the elements—break from monotony, food for mind and stomach, mild satisfaction for the taste-buds, humor, and all in the right mix.

Analogy

Love and Accidents

Are all around
Seen anywhere and anytime
Has no logic
Bound by fate
Follows no rules
Respects no rationale
Blindfolded
Mysterious
Dangerous
Soul-wrenching

--Inspired from the movie Engeyum Eppodhum

Imagery

Body = Wall
Food = Plaster Mixture
Exercise = Plasterer's Float


Thanks to... 
Dr. C. Saravanan MBBS, MS, MRCS, M.Ch (paed)

The Lane Story

The two-second sound and light play
Scene:
Lane 2 - In my fast-car, on the highway.
Lane 2 - A lady on a bike, just ahead.


Dialog:
Me: Honk Honk


She: Indicated the right way, 
with her blinkers
and moved to lane 1.

Food for thought...

Just behind me,
the blender was taking the life out of the fruits.
It was not the scream of the mixer, 
but 
the shrill of the fruits
like
the bleat of the butchered animals.

The Wind Rogue

This time...

The rains did not rain.

It was swept off its feet.

Not by romance but by force.

The clouds budded them fine 

but it could not bloom.

This time...

The clouds did not float.

It was being shoved around.

It was being chased

and could not save its grace.

Because,

the wind played rogue

teasing and rampaging,

the clouds and the rain.

And when it was all over,

darkness loomed...

Translation of Nee Korinaal from 180

The five-minute wonder!

Nee Korinaal is yet another beauty! Alright, in terms of what this time? A lyrical beauty, a visual beauty, and a musical treat. The format of the song just swept me off my feet: each line standing on its own, with absolutely no connection between its siblings and still making it a great song. The song has the male and female voices repeating a verse, each in a normal pitch and the second time, in a high and longish pitch. Seems like someone reads a secret the first time and the next time, revives it with their vocals. This happens for all the verses, expect the opening verse. A great song structure put in action by the music director, Sharreth. It is a wonder in so many senses--you must listen to appreciate the nuances of the song. In fact, the music arrangement compliments the lyrics as well as the voice, taking the lead only where required.

And Karthik and Swetha Mohan have just made this song scintillate, in terms of the way it has been sung. Especially the brilliant Swetha for the way she emotes, playing it low and high wherever and whenever required. Though Karthik gives a great opening with his endearing questions, Swetha has the last laugh. She is relentless even in places where she has to go on a low but steady and a breathless pitch, and gradually has to flight up for the re-opening verse that she sings after that. A perfect 10, like Nadia Comaneci, I would say.

So here is me gratifying my impulse--I dont know why, I often feel I want to devour the song, everytime I listen to this chirpy song--the translation of Nee Korinal from the movie 180 (Nootrenbadhu).


If you ask for, my sweetheart,
won't the sky change, forever?
won't the clouds patter, incessantly?

You seared my soul, my sunshine,
yet I see no fire around...

Now, don't shut your windows, oh ladylove,
and shy away from me.

You run away, oh poetry in motion,
from me, steadfast yet still...

Am I of the recluse clan to not caress you,
oh beautiful,
even after I set my eyes on you?

You are my reflecting self, oh silken flower,
I pray, do not wither away.

Your intoxicating lips invite me, oh alluring!
Come, let me have a sip of you.

Success

To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.

          ~ inaccurately attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson
             (http://www.transcendentalists.com/success.htm)

Notes

Somehow liked this quote a lot! It makes a lot of sense but we hardly put it to practice...

The palest ink is better than the best memory. - Chinese Proverb

Mazhai Varum... from Veppam - My rendition / translation

My eyes see the harbinger of rains,

but my heart seems to be drenching,

is this love or loss?

As I see the times of our togetherness unfurl before me,

I seem to be losing grip of the ground under me,

why is this so?

My eyes that brighten as I lean on your shoulders,

now look forlorn, looking for you.

The flowers that bloom by our path,

now look dismayed, waiting for your arrival.

The seed of our juvenile love

now has grown full-blown, all by itself

And, when at the bloom of a new flower,

I wonder who has plucked it.

I came by, tracing your footsteps,

Now I seem to have lost it and heading nowhere...

I had asked for beautiful times,

and someone just blessed me with tears in my eyes.

I had asked for the magical rainbows,

and someone just blessed my journey with sorrows.

This love is excruciating,

it burns me down together with my soul.

Mazhai Varum... from Veppam

Yet another warm song from Joshua Shridhar and Na Muthukumar! It has a simple and steady BGM flowing through the entire song with the violin, flute, and cello interludes adding strength. Suzanne D'Mello does her part well in creating an unrequited-love-song feel to it. A lady love's unrequited love song is of course extra-special! Suzzane's version has a mix of solitude, passion, fervency, and longing. I did understand that it is a mellowed-down voice that is singing Mazhai Varum and her voice might sound great for a power-packed song. All these were what I had with me, to write, until I Google-ed her out. After that, it was surprises all the way...

What I did not know was that she is the voice behind Latika's theme and Dreams on fire from Slumdog Millionaire, Hosanna from Vinnaithaandi Varuvaayaa, and to my greatest surprise, Nalamdhaana from Silambattam. All these were surprises because, I have listened to each more than a thousand times; yet I could not get to appreciate her all these while. Each of these songs has a completely different genre and she has such grace in her voice in softer songs and power in the rest. But then, the inconsistency in the song credits makes an impression that they are all different people all together. The various names that appear in the credits are Suzie Q, Suzzane, and Suzzane D'Mello. Of course, she has a huge list of hit songs under the Bollywood category.

And for a singer of non-native tongue, her pronunciation of Tamil, in this song, is good. Her strengths are certainly the nuances she brings to the song and her humming just takes the song to a different plane. At the places where she goes too deeply husky, it gives the exact feel for Mazhai Varum. In this song, she supresses her popular RnB tones, and does a casual and light singing and that makes her voice sound a lot sweeter and younger. Something like how Suchitra sounded when she sang Tharai Erangiya from Eeram. Talking about Tharai Erangiya song, it was another song that I fell in love with instantly, for its simplicity, innocence, and sweetness. Anyways, I wanted to talk about just the Mazhai Varum song, giving due credits to each; but the realization of Suzzane's identity digressed the intent of this post!

How to name it?

What do I call it,
if I still feel the warmth
you bestowed on me, ages ago...,

When I have won
the war waged by
my failing memory,
fate, time, and distance,
the charm of new relationships,

and

life-changing events
such as marriage and parenthood...?

Quotes as Commandments for the New Year

Be fit for more than the thing you are now doing. Let everyone know that you have a reserve in yourself; that you have more power than you are now using. If you are not too large for the place you occupy, you are too small for it.
- James A. Garfield

Be master of your petty annoyances and conserve your energies for the big, worthwhile things. It isn't the mountain ahead that wears you out - it's the grain of sand in your shoe.
- Robert Service

To the children's teachers...

The piece below has been popularly referred to as Lincoln's letter to his son's teacher. There are sources that deny this, though. However it may be, I think of it as one of the best writings that I have come across till now. A few others are If (Rudyard Kipling), and Success (misattributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson).

He will have to learn, I know,
that all men are not just,
all men are not true.
But teach him also that
for every scoundrel there is a hero;
that for every selfish politician,
there is a dedicated leader...
Teach him for every enemy there is a friend,

Steer him away from envy,
if you can,
teach him the secret of
quiet laughter.

Let him learn early that
the bullies are the easiest to lick...
Teach him, if you can,
the wonder of books...
But also give him quiet time
to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky,
bees in the sun,
and the flowers on a green hillside.

In the school teach him
it is far honourable to fail
than to cheat...
Teach him to have faith
in his own ideas,
even if everyone tells him
they are wrong...
Teach him to be gentle
with gentle people,
and tough with the tough.

Try to give my son
the strength not to follow the crowd
when everyone is getting on the band wagon...
Teach him to listen to all men...
but teach him also to filter
all he hears on a screen of truth,
and take only the good
that comes through.

Teach him if you can,
how to laugh when he is sad...
Teach him there is no shame in tears,
Teach him to scoff at cynics
and to beware of too much sweetness...
Teach him to sell his brawn
and brain to the highest bidders
but never to put a price-tag
on his heart and soul.

Teach him to close his ears
to a howling mob
and to stand and fight
if he thinks he’s right.
Treat him gently,
but do not cuddle him,
because only the test
of fire makes fine steel.

Let him have the courage
to be impatient...
let him have the patience to be brave.
Teach him always
to have sublime faith in himself,
because then he will have
sublime faith in mankind.

This is a big order,
but see what you can do...
He is such a fine little fellow,
my son!

Remembering 'Don't speak'

You and me
We used to be together
Everyday together always
I really feel
That I'm losing my best friend
I can't believe
This could be the end
It looks as though you're letting go
And if it's real
Well I don't want to know

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts
Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me cause it hurts

Our memories
Well, they can be inviting
But some are altogether
Mighty frightening
As we die, both you and I
With my head in my hands
I sit and cry

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts (no, no, no)
Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me cause it hurts

It's all ending
I gotta stop pretending who we are...

You and me
I can see us dying...are we?

Don't speak
I know just what you're saying
So please stop explaining
Don't tell me cause it hurts (no, no, no)
Don't speak
I know what you're thinking
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me cause it hurts
Don't tell me cause it hurts!
I know what you're saying
So please stop explaining

Don't speak,
don't speak,
don't speak,
oh I know what you're thinking
And I don't need your reasons
I know you're good,
I know you're good,
I know you're real good
Oh, la la la la la la La la la la la la
Don't, Don't, uh-huh Hush, hush darlin'
Hush, hush darlin' Hush, hush
don't tell me tell me cause it hurts
Hush, hush darlin' Hush, hush darlin'
Hush, hush don't tell me tell me cause it hurts.

~ Eric Stefani, Gwen Stefani

Grief

I am now, A betrayer of the past that I ought to be faithful to and A slave of the misgiving present. Because, eventhough we are so-close-yet-so-far in this 'the longest period' that we have lived together after nearly a decade of solitude, The conversations between me and you is a festering wound... My words, the oozing pus, an outcome of the tussle, between our forgotten past and the unforgiving present. And often and everytime, I wish I could be sweeter to you overlooking your inabilities to foster the beautiful kinship that is now an almost was...

Rain treasure

I see...

Hope on the burgeoning barren tree, Platinum on the waxy lotus platter, Gold at the tip of bamboo blades, Black diamond on the umbrellas, Emerald on the tender foliage, Sapphire on the washed skies, Garnet on the rose petals, Satin on smooth roads, Happiness in my mind, Warmth in my heart, Spirit in my life.

Let it be...

Well, I don't have anything to say
but only helpless questions
for which I do have an answer, 'let it be'
The only answer that I found for myself,
the only convincing one,
in the music and words of 'Let it be'

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be,
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be,
Yeah, there will be an answer, let it be.

When I find myself in times of trouble,
mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, 'let it be.'
And in my hour of darkness
she is standing right in front of me,
speaking words of wisdom, 'let it be.'

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

When the broken-hearted people
living in the world agree,
there will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted
there is still a chance that they will see,
there will be an answer, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be,
Yeah, there will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be,
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be,
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the night is cloudy,
there is still a light that shines on me,
shine until tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music,
mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, Yeah let it be,
there will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, Yeah let it be,
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

Translation of Unnarugil Varugayil from Kalloori

You enthrall me with your presence,
You are the reason, my sweetheart...
that I am always at loss.

Ecstasy seeps into me,
And I feel I am on the brink of fame
Just when I hear your name.
My shadow departs me to joins yours;
I defy myself and I get reckless.
I briefly assay,
and my heart has nothing to say.

Though I succeed in staying faraway
from the thought of your eyes,
your heart conquers mine, and
I don't have the heart to resist.
I tell myself a million times
to deviate from the path of yours;
I deviate and yet you reach me!
Now, I can do nothing but to stop.

My soul, my persona, my ego
all seem to take a new form.
My friends speak, though,
my ears refuse to fall by the norm.

Make me understand...
Is this how love deals with agonies?
or are these consequences of my desire?

How I wish to experience with you
all my life's pain and joy again?
While I pine for you relentlessly
time slaves me and burns me into ashes,
through every second that it is with me.

I wish to speak a million words
right into your eyes,
I wish to grasp all the flowers
that blossom in my dreams,
I wish to find the abode of God
and decipher the mystery of love,
I wish to break my heart's shackles
and the need to conduct my senses...
All but in vain!

I seem to gallivant
in your eye's direction,
and wait forever, with all my faith
for your gaze to set onto my eyes.
You trouble me
like a lie locked in my heart,
Albeit, I still try to hide you
and yet, my eyes let me down...

In love, but I win!

Six hours and a few days. This was the time that I spent trying to find a competent English lyrical replacement of this beautiful song 'Unnargil varugayil...' from the movie Kalloori.

The overall experience was even similar to falling in love. Initially, I felt an urge to win over the song by being able to come up with an equally competent English version. I attempted to pull through mindlessly, by sheer pride. But then, the initial excitement faded away, and I felt miserable as I could not do justice to the song. I realized that I was not being honest in my intention—of feeling the song and then be inspired to render. It tormented me and guilt prevailed. A few days later, after realizing the mistake that I did, and after listening to the song over and over again, I felt the pleasure and the charm of the song.

My previous renditions were Kannathil muthamittal, Minnalae, and Nee partha paarvaikku. Each song had extremes of emotions and it was quite easy for me get evoked. I mean we listen to a thousand love songs in a day. And to translate it, the song must be really special to be able to create the enthusiasm that you decide to invest some of your efforts and emotions. But this song is special—as in, even though it is a light love song, yet there was something unique about its rhythm and structure. The specialty of the structure of this song is that the pallavi repeats itself thrice in the beginning of the song and not a single verse repeats itself later.

The song flows through like a marathon and that too effortlessly. The best part is that the orchestration is very ordinary and yet the song stands apart for its simplicity, innovative structure, and the beautiful lyrics. Na Muthukumar has beautifully captured the plight of the ones in love and I am speechless to describe about Joushua Shridhar's tune to this song. The usual style of music in typical love songs or any song for that matter is that there are about three tunes: one for pallavi, one for the two saranams, and perhaps one more for the music between the pallavi and the saranam. With this song, I could not believe that there are at least about ten unique tunes in this one song!

I must say it was sheer pleasure working on the 'free translation' of the tamil lyrics of Unnarugil Varugayil from Kalloori. Coming soon...

Dated: May 04 - May 07, 2009

Yesterday...

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away,
Now it looks as though they're here to stay,
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be,
There's a shadow hanging over me,
Oh, yesterday came suddenly.

Why she had to go I don't know, she wouldn't say.
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday...

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play,
Now I need a place to hide away,
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Why she had to go I don't know, she wouldn't say.
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday...

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play,
Now I need a place to hide away,
Oh, I believe in yesterday...

This is some late realization, I accept. But then, such an amazing, simple, beautiful, heart-wrenching song this is... by The Beatles. Something that would stay close to my heart and mind.

Competition

The urge to compete with self or others is an instinctive and deeply rooted feeling in quite a number of individuals, especially kids. What is important is to identify what evokes the spirit of competition in them.

One morning, I was walking relatively relaxed towards the bus stop—relaxed enough to notice trivial things that often catches us unaware and lets us revel. There were the usual scenes of dog walkers, the man who cycles his son to the school and never forgets to draw the cross as he passes by the church, the cycle man who dutifully sits by the side of his for-hire cycles and wears the looks of a dad who has that many number of aging unmarried daughters, the grocer who never feels bored to sell the same goods to the same people with the same enthusiasm and rigor, the dry wood godown that has its casuarinas stacked all in order and the cold coal on the floor gathering some heat from the mellow morning sun, the work-in-progress lamppost around the corner of the road pretending to be a banyan tree with all the thick black wires hanging from top to bottom, the vengeful blacksmith who strikes the iron while its hot and the onlookers who see their instruments of work getting ready, the bustling government gym, and the me who is wondering about the oft-repeating dream where I run really hard across the connecting corridors of my school and climb down the stairs two steps at a time with utmost precision to reach the back gate of my school.

There was also this very small puny school boy sporting his green t-shirt with some white printed letters hiding behind his backpack, white shorts, his hair oiled and kempt—I can even hear the instructions that his mom gave him while combing his hair, the tightly pulled up socks that covered his shank, the matt-finished white shoes with a green band that ran all along the periphery of his shoes, walking brisk and carefree.

So it is me and small kid in the picture now... He would not have caught my attention if he had not tried to reach one of the strings hanging outside the petty shops that display their liabilities. This is what exactly happened: while he was walking, he thrust some pressure onto his toes and sprung up and touched the string with his head. I was amazed at this gesture that made me conclude that there is nothing unique about me when I try to reach the beams of a roof with my finger tips.

With just this act of his, he managed to evoke a smile and gather all my attention. At this stage, we were walking by the side of each other and this continued for about 20 seconds. Believe me—to maintain the same pace as mine, the kid really had to take at least twice as many steps that I took for the same duration. He was obviously trying to beat me. And the moment I realized him, I wanted to test his intent or rather, my intent. I increased my pace and went ahead and in the next a few seconds, I did really witness him inching closer to me. Finally, I let him feel good by lagging behind...

November Rain

Bleached skies, blistered window panes Dutiful warriors fighting the rain armed with the spokes and black arch. Incessant rains, incessant deaths. Bleeding roads--bleeding green instead of red. Helpless trees: do you ever repent the death of a thousand leaves? 'cos you bring the rain but the rains betray you...

You are too good...

I am inside a moving train that wont let me hear, feel, or smell you You are far away blessing everyone with flourish blooming the blushing pink to red replenishing the reservoirs reciprocating your love to the tree-tops and the grass roots waking the slumbering leaflets with your gentle pats and taps letting the satin clouds sweep and kiss its lady love at the top of the mountains you are too good, despite the streaks of rashes that you create on my window panes...

Theory of relativity

Painstaking self-accomplishments made in the past five years looks far too easier and quicker than the goals that I plan to achieve between now and the end of the fifth year from now.

time off thoughts...

feet's feel of a dry restroom floor crows that imitate the celebration of a footballer's goal work-life in fast lane and life in safe mode parentish body-language of an offspring coherent flow of thoughts retentivity of thoughts till you find a pen delicious breakfast of dinner left-overs self-indulgences of a martinet an unintrusive stranger in a journey

Buddha

Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.

- Buddha

Some Thoughts

A wonderful painting is the result of the feeling in your fingers. If you have the feeling of the thickness of the ink in your brush, the painting is already there before you paint. When you dip your brush into the ink you already know the result of your drawing, or else you cannot paint. So before you do something, "being" is there, the result is there. Even though you look as if you were sitting quietly, all your activity, past and present, is included, and the result of your sitting is also already there.
~ D.T. Suzuki

I must learn to love the fool in me - the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant who I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool.
~ Theodore I. Rubin

My Current State of Mind...

Happiness does not come from doing easy work but from the afterglow of satisfaction that comes after the achievement of a difficult task that demanded our best.

~ Theodore Isaac Rubin quotes (American Writer and psychiatrist b.1923)

Your imperfections...

The maverick tooth that did not align with the others The marginal squint that shows up on your portraits The stubborn dimple that refuses to smile The wanderer in you who meanders The temper that stuns a tsunami The mind that thinks The tongue that stings

Eureka!

The sky thinks a lot on a cloudy day!

I am You

I tend to act the same good way I heard someone say about me like how I try to be the replica of the portrait in which others considered me to be handsome.

Reminder:

I am a bird. I must not walk.

Love. Fear. Sorrow.

i didn't realise how diverted i was until you looked at me, and only then my reflexes realised that i must set my stealthy eyes off you. It is the most fearful when you relate discrete events or objects to the death of someone close to you. True tears are those that you wept while you were imagining a world without the someone whom you value. i love your presence and fear your death...

Music and people

This analysis started when I read a quote on iGoogle: Classical music is the kind we keep thinking will turn into a tune. - Kin Hubbard

For a long time now, I had gotten into a habit of sharing quotes with my friend, over messenger. But, now that she has migrated to a foreign land to assay if the pastures are really greener, I kind of miss the remnants of the grins that we usually exchange when we meet—the ones that we did not have time to share amidst the busy schedule at work. But, you don't really have to worry about not being able to share your thoughts, because the messenger medium is still going to be the same except for the time gaps after which I get a reply. The time gap is close to 12 hours, which is an expected modus vivendi and to which I have got pretty used to, after a bunch of my sidekicks and thought partners left to the US about four years ago.

Well, the reply was: I really don't understand what he is trying—if he is making fun of classical music, I do not agree to it and if he is trying to make a point, I do not understand it…

Fair enough, I thought.

The reply that I managed to send was: I don’t know if he is trying to make a point or make fun; but given that he is an 18th century cartoonist/comedian, I guess it is the latter. Seriously, I mean, accepted that it is really difficult to learn and master classical music (be it hindustani, carnatic, or western), but still, I think the frequency of the patterns are so sparse in a given 4 to 5 minutes time space that it is really difficult to comprehend it. May be if I acquaint myself with its structure by methodical learning, I might enjoy it better than I do now.

Not sure on what lines she is going to reply. Meanwhile, I thought I must gather some of my scattered thoughts together before they get volatile. So, what is the relation between the words in the title, and the title and the contents that you have been reading till now? I do not have a concrete answer for the latter question, but I seriously thought understanding music and people were similar in some kind.

Certain people connect to you so well, match your wavelength very well, that after one or two conversations, you think you would be able to predict much of the person's behaviour and become friends. Same with music—certain tunes catch you real quick.

Sometimes, you feel the need to know a person for quite some time, to get started and going. Same is it with music—certain songs stay in the testing grounds for a relatively long time before it stirs you deep inside.

With people, you need patterns to judge a person's behaviour. You would like to see certain patterns in them and would want to see them quite often to actually accept them as friends. Almost all songs that appeal to us follow this simple logic or mechanism. I mean, it is not that you sit with a paper and pencil, or laptop to jot down the observations—the brain keeps registering all the behavioral patters associated with a certain person in a certain memory slot allocated to that person; it could even be an incident for that matter.

Certain other people fall under the category of fast music—they catch your attention pretty quick and leave you without any damage, with the same speed they came zooming into your life. You were happy as long as they were there, but did not really bother or worry you after they left you. This could be because of the entry of another person of the same or a different kind, like how one number replaces another, on music charts.

Some people leave lasting impressions and they might happen to be your school-time friends, who come all through your life's up and downs. They would have accompanied you in almost of kinds of moods—moodswings. Like certain songs that you just want to listen whether you are bored, tired, depressed, irritated or uninspired, or happy, elated, or fully loaded and in full throttle.

What I have written can well be passed off as worthless, but still it seemed to have derived some kind of satisfaction of having me gotten an opportunity to reel off my thoughts. Alright, it is time to wind up the free fall...

the 'd' words...

despondent
dispirited
diabolic
depressing
dull
disappointed
discontented
damned
desolated
devastated
dank

Add Death also to the list... Somehow, I seem to be collecting a lot number of negatively-connoted words starting with 'd'.

July 2

Every king was once a helpless baby, every oak once an acorn, every mighty ocean swell once a ripple, and every great structure once a blueprint. It is not where you are today, but where you are going that counts.

Being Varun...

It does not take much being a two and a half year old kid who is very sharp, who does not bother much about things that he is not interested in, who lives the moment to the fullest—be it being angry, frustrated, sad, happy, ecstatic, or funny. Well at least, the state in which he is happy is certainly longer than the time he spends being in the pessimistic gamut of states. He quickly forgets about why he was sad or unhappy about something, and moves on if he finds something more interesting. He does not stand hell-bent on being unhappy about something. What if he does not find anything more interesting? He perhaps lowers his interest level and settles for something that just deviates from his erstwhile state. Most of all, he wants to be happy all the time.

But seriously, believe me it is pretty tough to be Varun; primarily because, as we grow, we start gathering worthless definitions of ourselves. We accumulate misgivings, learn things wrongly and think they are right—misconceptions; do things that most suited us before and stick to it without revamping it to the time we currently are in.

Before proceeding, just one question: why can't we all forget about the misgivings and be happy about what we are presently happy about? Why don’t we just forget things that do not do any good to us?

Anyway, there are two things to this whole rigmarole. About forgetting the things that made you unhappy and about preventing yourself from being unhappy.

With respect to forgetting things, it becomes a bit difficult because, we are always taught to remember things. And it being our sole responsibility, we excelled in the art of remembering and did not think about forgetting. So, it involves some effort to practice the art. There was a beautiful article that I read in a daily newspaper: Teach me, Lord, to forget. It was published in the Hindu on September 01, 2000. In fact, I have a clipping of this article with me and I certainly treasure it till date.

With respect to the reason for being unhappy, it is primarily because you do not get what you want, which leads to disappointment, and it paving way to unhappiness. Probably, when you do not expect anything, you keep raising your disappointment crossbar. So, you are safe and far away from the realms of being disappointed.

But then again, there are two aspects to it—emotional and non-emotional.

Let’s deal with the non-emotional aspect of expectations, disappointments, and being unhappy. To achieve anything, you certainly must expect that you must reach a benchmark. So an expectation from self is a critical factor for progression. Which brings about a topic of striking a balance between expecting something before an event happens and accepting the situation as-is, after it has happened. So, which means are we are talking about interpreting and dealing with the results? Then what about things such as, not receiving something that you deserve? Don't we have to fight for our rights? So, is it that we will need to accept things that we cannot really change? Then, what exactly are the things that we cannot change? How exactly can we classify the things that we cannot change and things that we can change? Is it defined by the number of times you try to change a state of affairs to attain what you wanted?

And talking about the emotional things, it is pretty hard to explain to someone the extent to which one must be detached and not expect things from others at an emotional level. I suppose, one must not expect anything from the other to the level where they can keep themselves unhurt. Or, is it that you bestow all the love and support and not expect anything? How can that possibly be? If you smile, won’t you expect someone to smile back at you? I suppose smiling is a pretty simple, straightforward, and easy equation.

I guess it is also with respect to how one has defined a universal object. One person could have defined happiness as two kilograms of sugar, whereas, the other could have defined it as having two ten dollar bills in the trouser pocket purse. And what happens when the two of them try to share happiness? It is meaningless. So, how do we solve this conundrum?

Quote

They cut the grass to make it greener. Likewise, to grow continuously and sustain, make people feel insecure; insecurity breeds growth.

I was thinking as to how I can make sense out of this quote. It kind of kept me haunting, because it has always been the case that I either like a quote or don't like it, or the quote would be really dumb. It has never been the case where it has made me think so much. Something like, you either like a person or don't like the person. And another category is the one that is very confusing. This one falls on the last category which is confusing, and made me think a lot. I mean, this quote is something that is debatable, because standing all by itself, it does not convey the meaning. I somehow feel that there is something that remains unsaid.

In fact, I was reminded of Keats' verses from 'Ode on a Grecian Urn': "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unhead are sweeter."

And so I started writing about this... I am looking at it from one's profession point of view...

May be starve them to boredom by not giving them work? May be that is where the concept of Bench comes. And as you well know, human mind thinks faster and instills in itself a sense of urgency when it sees suffering—both self and of others. In this case, may be laying off other people might cause insecurity. See, again it depends; some minds may work in one direction and others in a different direction. Say, one might feel insecure on seeing something, the other might feel depressed, or some other can feel instigated?

I mean, forget insecurity being a factor of motivation or growth. Looking at it philosophically and psychologically, the basic thing that causes insecurity is the fear that you are going to lose something that you have, and if not something that you treasure, at least losing something that causes an imbalance or taking somebody to a new low. I do not see any other reason that can cause insecurity.

So, it pretty much explains the fact that, any action that might cause you to lose something of yours, be it self-respect, respect, money, time, effort, relationships with your peer, a poor performance or appraisal rating, not enough recognition for your work etc. But all this, I see it only leading to searching for a better option or a setup, rather than trying to perform better in the same setup.

One more thing is that, you really cannot trigger an event or an act that can cause insecurity under the pretext of being altruistic. That will be the cruelest of things that you can do to someone, when at work. I guess insecurities are again, all in the mind—someone can feel insecure all by themselves. Another aspect is that you cannot make someone think that the other person is creating insecurity for them, so that they flourish. One gets detached and develop hatred towards the other person, once they know that the person made them feel insecure deliberately.

And as I think, it is not single event that can make someone feel insecure, but a combination of various disconnected acts that reinforces, and makes someone feel that they are insecure. Also, to artificially create those kinds of activities, and instigate or expect the same kind of reaction, to make them feel insecure might be difficult to attain. First time around, they may feel insecure; the next time they may feel that, 'no, may be it is for our own good that it is happening so, etc...

Or maybe, editing the quote for its sentence structure could have made more sense? I mean, if it were constructed in passive voice? Something like:

Cutting the grass makes it greener. Likewise, an insecure feeling makes people to grow continuously and sustain; insecurity breeds growth.

analogy

You are as best as the grape that i am eating now, which has the right sourness, sweetness, size, shape, succulence, wellness, and seedless. And..., i am yet to find You.

Now, this is what I call pure distraction. The scenario: it is in the evening and I am analysing a set of very complex data and was completely immersed in a line of thought pertaining to it. I happened to unmindfully reach for a few grapes from the packet of grapes that I have been munching since morning. And the above analogy is a result of the distraction. I guess, this is what they refer to as 's e r e n d i p i t y'...

Translation of Nee Partha from Hey Ram

Epitome of Passion - A translation of Nee Partha from Hey Ram

Thanks to those fervent gazes that fazed us.
Thanks to the night that brought togetherness in us.
Thanks to the enduring wildness within us.
And, thanks to each of the immortal memories between us.

What is the need for the word, 'I'?
I am nothing but you, and nothing without you.
I bother not to beseech for boons anymore, 'cos
I can't feel any blissful than this seventh heaven.
I pray, let me have you always near me...

Why are we continuing this act,
even after the play is over?
I can go on forever, with memories of this one-act play.
Your thoughts would be alive till the last breath of my death,
I pray, let me have you always near me...

Thanks to those fervent gazes that fazed us.
Thanks to the night that brought togetherness in us.
Thanks to the enduring wildness within us.
And, thanks to each of the immortal memories between us.
I pray, let me have you always near me...

Most often you would find desperation or bereavement intertwined with passion in most of the passionate love songs. Of the very few songs that express totality, bliss, and serenity through pure passion, the song 'Nee paartha paarvaikku...' from Hey Ram just takes me on a high.

And, I have never heard a song where the orchestration is powerful enough to act as the third voice, falsifying the definition of a duet. When I say orchestration, Ilaiyaraaja just scintillates with his intelligent and creative use of just the piano. The few seconds of flute and an immediate follow by the violin, act as the transition elements handing over the song from the introduction phase to the next higher plane.

I would certainly place the piano prelude and motifs very close to Beethoven's masterpiece: Fur elise. The piano amazingly blends with the emotions of the vocalists. Rani Mukherjee's husky voice for the narrative in the beginning of the song adds genuineness and innocence to the fervent nature of the song.

Do I have to say anything about the Kamalahasan's lyrics at all? It is one of the rare songs that have short, simple, and straightforward lyrics. Kamalahasan has done an amazing job!

what do i have for this new year?

Well, it is strange... last year this time, I was in a different state as mine; and this year too I am in a different state—a different place altogether. A place where,

no two haircuts and no two car models are the same,

fast cars on the road make you think of a roaring seashore nearby,

roads are so clean and neat that you think it is so artificial and almost out of the ordinary,

you do not see as many as bikes as you are used to seeing in a metro in India,

the bikes are as fantastical as they could get as on English movies; well, to quote one such movie, it would be like the yellow super-hero bike that Uma Thurman sports in Kill Bill Vol 1,

the bikers ride as... well it isn't exactly rash, perhaps rude, as on a racing track. And yes, they do really kick off as the bikes do in Kill Bill.

the buses are without a conductor and the bus fares are flat and are not based on place you go,

you see a smile, and a 'hi' and a 'howaya doin' from every person you want to smile at,

it takes some time to comprehend that people are really joking and even more time to understand the pun in that joke.

people can sting you if they really want to and you would not notice a thing cos they do even that with a smile! believe me, life can get miserable, if you wanna think that they really do mean to hurt you. You can be really happy if you are ignorant, in all such cases.

So, these are the fresh memories of my really really late Q4, 2006.

And I know that there are umpteen things to set straight in the coming year. All I can do now is to sit, think, and then when it comes to it, execute. For the records, for my consultation, and my well being, I would want a few thoughts up here for my brand new year. Hope it does some good to people who get to stumble at my door.

And yes, there is a lot of running to be done this year!

“When you put yourself on the line in a race and expose yourself to the unknown, you learn things about yourself that are very exciting.” - Doris Brown Heritage

"Ability is what you are capable of doing. Motivation determines what you do. Attitude determines how well you do it." - Lou Holtz (Notre Dame football coach)

"You cannot always control what goes on outside. But you can always control what goes on inside." - Wayne Dyer, runner and author

“What I learned from a 16 mile AM training run with Gerry Lindgren... ‘your legs aren't tired kid... it’s only your head telling you!’” – Gerry Lindgren to Tom Fleming

"A man is a success if he can wake up every morning and do exactly what he wants to do each day". - Bob Dylan

Courtesy and thanks to... www.londonrunner.ca for the quotes above.

And thanks to Bruce Lee for this:

I fear not the person who has practised ten thousand kicks once; but i fear the man who has practised one kick ten thousand times.

and last but probably the best..., here is my Serenity Prayer:

"God, grant me

Serenity
to accept the things i cannot change

Courage
to change the things i can, and

Wisdom
to know the difference. "

Happy New Year 2007!

Grandpa's little Story

It was a Friday and the day for a review of that week’s work. The reviewer was a perfectionist and their last week’s review did not quite go well. So M decided to catch up with some revision and took out some printed material to go through. She had twenty minutes of her half hour bus travel from LA to Santa Monica Boulevard. She had a sheet of paper that has some of the most fancied lingo of the week—swim lane diagram. M's mind was trying to grapple with the apparently new terms such as swim-lane and her heart with the implicit infra digs that the people of the host(ile) country was throwing at her.

The bus stops, and an old man sits next to her. And as usual, the old man starts a conversation by saying, 'It has been a long time since I studied such diagrams.' I use the word usual because in these parts of the world, it is pretty easy to pick a conversation with a stranger rather than the person you know and a smile accompanies almost every face that you would want to smile at.

M smiles and gives a rapid and warm longitudinal nod to the gentle old man.

O: So, are you studying at UCLA?

M: No. I am working here.

O: Are you from India?

M: Yeah, I am from India... From a place called Chennai.

M knew that he didn’t quite catch the name of the place, even though she was sure that he knew India much than the others she has met in this country. People have never till now approached her with facts about her nativity as yet—she probably didn’t know anybody that far as yet.

O: Oh... ok. I have been to Cochin, long long time ago! It is a very nice place and I liked it a lot.

M: My place, also known as Madras is also close to Cochin.

O, with a smile: Oh yeah! Madras? I know Madras. I have been to that place once or twice.

By now, M would have looked at the old man for quite sometime and noticed that he has a real cute smile and he had just two of his premolars that were discolored. But the beauty revealed only when he smiled heartily. It must have been two days since he last shaved and the white stub that was merging with his thick left and right sideburns looked pretty much like mown grass.

Silence prevailed for about ten to fifteen seconds.

O: So, you are married?

M: Yes, I am—for about three months now.

O: Oh, so your husband is also here?

M: No, he is back in India.

O: Oh!! That must be pretty tough, I guess.

M nodded and pouted in accord.

O: There was a nice story that I now remember and would want to tell you. This is of an Indian girl who studied in the same college as my daughter and her good friend. She was really intelligent and beautiful with dark hair and eyes. She fell in love with an Indian but of a different sect I believe. But it certainly was a point that her father could harp on and say no to her love. The man was handsome, and smart and brilliant too. He was employed and well paid and had his head where it ought to be. Her parents were back in India and her father was vehemently against her choice and did not relent to his daughter's wishes. She tried her best but he would not approve their union. They waited for five long years and the father finally agreed to the marriage. In fact, when her dad met the boy, he was very impressed and happy about his daughter's choice. Recently, she had invited me and my daughter for her daughter's first birthday and I was cracking jokes on how it was during those days. I could see my own daughter in her. She was so respectful and never forgot to invite me.

M nodded in awe and happiness to be the recipient of such a nice open conversation with a harmless company in a strange and foreign country—a nice old man sharing a nice experience with her.

I mean, what on earth made them wait for five long years and that too in the peak of their youth. I guess, he would have probably kissed her maybe—that is all about to it, until they got married.
In India, when you marry a woman, you owe so much to her family too. It is not just her that you are marrying; you get wedded to the whole family. My first marriage was with an Indian lady. That is when I realised this. It was so much trouble, because she didn’t want to stay here and I didn’t want to stay there. Anyway, I feel that the dark women are much better than the blondes. They think their way through a problem and act decisively and sensibly. You know, both my marriages were with dark women. And I was really happy!

Nowadays, people do not wait for that long. They are really fast. In my age, divorces were far from reality. But now that seems to be the only thing that is real. Rest everything, including marriages, seem like lighter scenes in a person's life. You know, you’ve got to like the person who you want to marry. You must not love the person. Or rather you will not be able to love the person for a longer period; but you certainly can like a person for years together. When you marry the person you like, you will want to wake up with a smile morning after morning and there is no question of divorce.

In fact, I wouldn’t have waited for so long for a person—may be for the person, but not for her parents. Do you think your husband would have waited for you?

M was completely engrossed with the way the old man emoted when he was describing all of this. And when the question was asked, she was so overwhelmed. After a few seconds of pause and a mischievous smile she then replied,

I don't think so. But then, you see, most of the marriages in India are arranged by parents and the bride and the groom have a lot other different problems to cope with—new person, new family etcetera.

O: So, is your husband older than you?

M: Yeah, he is four and a half years older. It is one of the prime factors in a marriage in India. And three to five years is a pretty common figure.

The old man nodded and immediately asked the question as if he was ready with them beforehand, 'Do you know that women mature faster than men?'

M: Yeah, I do know that. But then, the only problem is that men do not realise the fact, until it is too late.

Both giggle and accept the fact. By now the bus had reached Santa Monica Boulevard and M was getting ready with her stuff.

The old man realised the same and nodded saying, 'So, Santa Monica is round the corner...'

M: Yep. Another bus straight down onto my left and I am all ready for today's work.

Both smile and M pulls the wire that promptly brings up the indicator 'Stop Requested' to glow and is as ever, backed by a voice that uttered the same with an exclamation.

M rises and says, 'Wish you a good day and a merry Christmas!'

O: You too beautiful lady!

Why and how does it happen?

Yet again, the magician has done it, weaving spells in the air. And I realise and appreciate it pretty late. Usually, it is me who treasures and welcomes the brilliance of the outcome. This time it is late realisation.

My question is which ear do I listen to... the voice and the music from the instruments complement as well as compete with each other. It is streamlined and simple music, without complications and apparent innovations. Also, there is certainly the brilliance and the spontaneity of an impromptu performance.

Shreya, the wonder, (her voice) is just awesome! I wonder how a person, without understanding the language can sing as if she is living the situation of the lyrics. Just too good!! And of all she emotes really well. Be it while beseeching or while asking questions earnestly.

It is an agreed fact that each language has its own intonation with regard to questions. Though those are apparent, sometimes, there are certain subtleties that expose the nativity of a singer. But, Shreya cruises through and lands the questions in the song with such poise like a light tiny feather in the air.

Except of course for some places that you might get confused with her tongue’s nativity where she pronounces 'oone vaa' very lazily, where it sounds like 'oade vaa'. Agreed that with certain words, sometimes, even the best of the breed native vocalists sound like they have not paid attention to the pronunciation. Let me not ask for too much...

In the latter half of the song, Rehman amazes me when each time there is a brief 'yes' in the form of a 'hum' from the chorus for the questions that Naresh and Shreya ask in the song. As if to bring an effect that an angel above is listening to Naresh and Shreya’s plans. Where exactly does this occur? It happens in the middle of the third minute of the song when Naresh starts off with

'Nilavidam vaadagai vaangi...,
HUM
vizhi veetinil kudi vaikkalaama?
HUMM'
Naam vaazhum veettukkul vaeraarum vandhalae, thaguma…?

The chorus when I first listened somehow sounded unwanted with the Hindi word 'rangoli' in such a beautiful and lyrically strong melody. But then the contrast only adds to the beauty of the song as you hear it on and on.
As to the orchestra, the Santoor bit in the beginning and the middle of the song gives a good beginning and a relaxing break from the breathtaking melody. The violin in the beginning adds momentum to the cheerful but melodious start. But except for the violin that plays alongside the vocal that sometimes goes overboard. And, Rehman somehow seems to be obsessed with the instrument thavil; even in this song (in comparison to Mayiliragae of Aah aah), he has tried to position the instrument amidst and along with the thumping western artificial beats. It has blended well.
Great song!

If you've still not figured out which song I am referring to, it is 'Munbe vaa, en anbae vaa...' from the movie 'Sillunu Oru Kaadhal'. Music by our very own, milord, Rehman.