Old world charm

I cannot tolerate ‘jham jhoom’ music. Seriously.

I’m all for soothing, soft, romantic melodies. Preferably old Hindi movie songs! Yeah, it is often joked about that I belong to another century (millennium even), but really, nothing can quite match up to timeless music.

I guess I owe my love for English classics to my momma, and Hindi movie songs to Papa. Often, at evening, when I’m sitting in my living room working on a frantic story, clutching my forehead and wrestling with words, an old tune wafts out towards me from my parents’ room….it’s my dad, who has an enviable collection of old songs on his computer….and I find myself getting momentarily lost in the mood he whips up for me without even knowing it.

An old song can make me feel (in the record time of one instant) like I’m walking through dark, misty woods by myself, taking a pause when the music does, increasing my pace swiftly when it reaches a crescendo, and feeling the drops from a stream slip past my fingers when the music piece reaches its conclusion.

Often, I sing old songs softly to myself at night just before going to bed  (yeah, I sing my own lullaby, huh?) …and get the most peaceful sleep ever. Can’t help it: I’m a sucker for all things timeless, all things old world, all things with a profound history behind them.

I never tire of songs from the following movies: Aandhi, Umrao Jaan, Arth, Abhimaan, Ijaazat, Silsila, Hum Dono, Nau Do Gyarah, Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi, Padosan, Madhumati, Muqaddar Ka Sikandar…let’s not even begin on how many movies I’m unable to fit into this para.

And of course, I’m always game for Kishore Kumar, Rafi, Jagjit Singh, Pankaj Udhas, Talat Aziz, Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhonsle…apart from Sonu Nigam and Shreya Ghoshal, I think very few current singers can be in the same league today.

Speaking of calm, mellifluous melodies, how can one forget the poultice effect of Ghazals (ahh, those lyrics full of meaning, the use of the Santoor ….such mood enhancers…much like the smell of perfume!).

Right now, I’m in the mood for ‘Aisi bhi baatein hoti hain’ and ‘Ae Dile Nadan’ ….lovely, soulful songs…perfect for sitting back, closing your eyes, taking a deep breath and dousing yourself in their balming abilities………..aaahhhh………..the sound of music!!! :) Sigh……

The written word

I love books. No, make that I looooooooooooooooooove books.

I love the smell of books….in the case of a spanking new copy, the smell of fresh paper and fresh ink. And in borrowed books, the smell of yellowed paper, worn with time, but yet doing it’s job to enthrall me. I love the rustling sound of paper when I turn a page. Or the sigh of longing when I reluctantly place a bookmark in between its leaves when it’s time to sleep. Or when mom calls out for lunch.

I’ve had a fascination for books since I learnt the written word. Barely five or six years old, my mother (a bookworm herself, God bless her) introduced me to our local circulating library across the road, Shemaroo. I remember my little hand engulfed in hers as she scoured the Barbara Cartland series, following which I was taken up the winding staircase into the children’s section. My first set of books was the Mr. Men series (the stories of Mr. Happy, Mr. Greedy, Mr. Grumpy never ceased to amaze me….the sweet ‘Once upon a time’ types, accompanied by painted pictures of beautiful cottages…you get the ‘picture’).

In my formative years, Enid Blyton was my key to a magical, fascinating world: a world that led me by the hand, away from my own. I dreamt of English countrysides where people had tea with scones and blueberry pancakes, and went hunting/fishing, and vacationed in farmhouses.

Over the years, I did the usual set: Nancy Drew, Famous Five, Mallory Towers, Secret Seven, Agatha Christie’s mysteries (Poirot and Miss Marple: evergreen characters with their quirks), Sweet Valley High, Sidney Sheldon, Danielle Steele, James Patterson (he is my favourite author, by the way. That’s another blog entry for another day!!!).

A good book, like a good movie, resonates with its reader long after putting it down. There are many books that have made me cry (Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom, Love Story by Erich Segal, and mostly all titles by Nicholas Sparks). Some books make me laugh (Hey Whipple, Squeeze This by Luke Sullivan, and the entire Diamond Brothers series by Anthony Horowitz), while others show me characters that bring to me life’s lessons.  Crime thrillers and periodical romances are what I dig currently….the former appeal to my sensibility (my window to gut instincts, human behaviour and forensic science), while the latter appeal to my sensitivity! :)

I have a looong way to go….I’m yet to read some of the best authors out there. Let’s just say I read a lot, but I’m not well-read. Hoping to change that with time.

I dream of being a book-reviewer someday….and writing my own book someday………

Someday………….

:)

After a tiring day….

 

 

Don’t know what a book called A Special Gift of Peace & Calm was doing on the bottom rack of the Crime & Mystery section at Crossword last Sunday. But I’m glad I chanced upon it. It’s a thin, pocket-size Helen Exley giftbook, which led me to check out more such books at the store.

Here I reproduce some enchanting lines I got from that book:

1. And silence… like a poultice…. comes to heal the blows of sound.

2. There are times when we stop. We sit still. We lose ourselves in a pile of leaves or its memory. We listen, and breezes from a whole other world begin to whisper.

3. I wish you quiet sleep, dreams of meadows deep in flowers and grass, of oceans calm and flecked with silver, of islands hushed by gentle waves, of countries of your own invention, of easy talk with friends…of roads leading to a reunion…of sorrow comforted. Of hope restored. 

4. LET peace enfold you: Shed the day’s anxieties, one by one. No need to hurry. Let the body drowse. Unwind….little by little. Still the mind. Breathe slow…until at last the busy world retreats, and leaves you in a gentleness, a stillness, a refuge of peace and calm.

5. Nothing is so strong as gentleness; nothing so gentle as real strength. 

6. May peace and peace and peace be everywhere. (From The Upanishads)

7. What life can compare to this? Sitting quietly by the window, I watch the leaves fall and the flowers bloom, as the seasons come and go.

8. I laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty. You don’t grasp the fact that what is most alive of all is inside your own house; and so you walk from one holy city to the next with a confused look! (Kabir)

9. Calm is a clear well that you may draw from whenever you have need.

10. Nothing is worth more than this day. We tend to be alive in the future, not now. We say, “Wait until I finish school and get my Ph.D degree, and then I will be really alive.” When we have it and it’s not easy to get, we say to ourselves, “I have to wait until I have a job in order to be really alive.” And then, after a job, a car. After the car, a house. We are not capable of being alive in the present moment. We tend to postpone being alive to the future, the distant future, we don’t know when. Now is not the moment to be alive. We may never be alive at all in our entire life. 

11. QUIET NIGHT: Lie gently in the dark, and listen to the rain pattering against the glass, the swish of passing cars, the hush of leaves. Renounce decisions, speculation, the tug of time. The world beyond the window….enfolds your silence, holds you softly. Sleep.

A ‘peace’ of my mind

There’s nothing like the potent, heady combination of a spoonful of the night on a dollop of solitude …to calm me when I’m most at edge. This is a picture of me (yeah, hard to see where I am as camera phones only play with our feelings when they say ‘night mode’) at one of my favourite calming spots.

I stay on the 9th floor of my building, and we have a whopping 7 flats on every floor. The passage outside my home is a very narrow, loooong one with two breezy windows, a staircase and the lift, of course. Curled up on one of the window sills, this is me spending quality time with me. I even put both my feet up many times! :)

You mommies out there, there’s a grill to the window so not to worry.

I sit here, mulling over silly things that happened during the day or sometimes, wonder about the larger picture where miniscule me fits in somewhere.

You can see surrounding buildings, but among the many things that this pic couldn’t capture is the brilliant night sky above that I often gaze at…on some days, when the Lord knows I need it reeeal bad, he has the moonlight filtering down to me at my, er, seating arrangement.

Wow.

This is my ‘time to myself’ spot. Nevermind that it is exactly 7.5 steps away from my door.

Where’s yours??

I dream…

I dream of walking barefeet in this world, on paths that He had originally made.

I dream of the moon dancing on the sea….a resolute lone ray on its way down in a dark night.

I dream of running my hand along a bed of soft, soft rose petals.

I dream of watching the last glimpse of the orange sun, moments before it sets over a mountain. And then, glowing in the afterglow.

I dream of affirmations dominating fears.

I dream of cold, cold winter nights, and fireplaces. And warm, milky tea, and a good book.

Ironically, I dream of waking up. In the wee hours of dawn. Taking in the silence, the fresh morning air.

I dream of listening to that unabashed laughter coming from a distance somewhere…a mirthful giggle that can only belong to a child.

I dream of a cottage.  A horse stable. The countryside.

Mmmhmmm…….I snuggle under the covers, refusing to wake up…refusing to let them go!

Please….just a little more, dear Lord.  Jussst a little more….

Food for thought.

Was at my second home Crossword last night, and read some lovely words in a book, ‘Why Good People Do Bad Things’ by James Hollis. T’was overpriced…didn’t buy it, but here are some quotes & stuff I liked from it:

1.

In a dark time,
the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow
in the deepening shade…

(In a Dark Time, by Theodore Roethke)

2.

The sons shaped their feet
with the shoes of their fathers.
To the plight of their mothers,
the daughters surrendered their dreams.

(The River, by Larry Thomas)

3.

We got ready and showed our home
The visitor thought, “You live well.
The slum must be inside you.”

4.

You see, there is one awful thing in this world, and that is, everyone has his reasons: Jean Renoir

5.

It’s better to be alone, than to wish to be alone

6.

An old Carly Simon song had this last stanza: “Sometimes, I wish I never knew some of those secrets of yours.”

So you see, even communication can be overrated.

It amazes me how…

1) …much I love the sound of squeaky shoes on babies.

2) …it rains when u forget to carry the umbrella; meanwhile the sun comes out when u do have one, & u look like the world’s greatest idiot.

3)…the tv remote/fridge/microwave works just fantastically when the repairman drops by. and goes right back to ‘out of order’ when he steps out.

4) …all bombay cabs have one (or more) of the following messages on the back windshield: ‘Maa ka aashirwaad’, ‘New Bombay Panvel Bhayandar’, ‘Jaan Tere Naam’ and/or ‘Miss Me’ (with a bloody red pair of lips next to it)

5) …on waking up from an afternoon nap on a Sunday, for two seconds you feel it’s morning and u have to get ready.

6) …satisfying it feels to ‘give it back’ to someone….and how utterly miserable it feels later (& yeah, you’re too proud or ashamed to admit it….sometimes, even to yourself).

7) …problems always appear more magnified in the night.

8) …the amount of time we devote to thinking about the past/future. when someone so rightly said, ‘this moment is your life’.

9) …words fail u when u need them the most.

10) …this post has gone from comical to senti.

11) …you’re still reading this.

Tale as old as time….song as old as rhyme….

Beauty & the Beast is my favourite cartoon movie in the whole wide world. FAVOURITE.

Let’s just say that when my parents wanted me to shut up, they knew exactly what to do (!!) I know every scene, every dialogue by heart, and trust me, I can still watch it anytime, anyday. Picture mein hero, heroine aur villain hai….like a Hindi masala flick except a thousanddddddddddddd times better!!!

The story, as most of u may know, is that of an arrogant prince who is cursed and turned into a beast by a magical princess, when she tests him for kindness and he fails. She casts a spell on the entire castle, and all the characters therein, well, become things!!! Kahani mein twist: he can become human again only after he learns to love someone…and earn her love in return…and he has a time limit boss. He has been given a magical rose and each petal falls after a year….he has to find his love before all of them fall.

Enter heroine Belle, who manages to transform his cruel heart and falls in love with him just before the last petal is about to fall…..sooooo romantic & sweet! Aur haan, aise mein they also defeat a lusty villain who is crazy after Belle and wants to kill the beast.

Hey I was a kid then, and I saw this movie before I knew how to spell the word ‘cliche’…. & so, in a sense, it is my introduction chapter to the world of love, fables, castles, magical spells, talking clocks & pots…..& a happily ever after ending…sigh…. ;)

There are some stories that are incredibly silly …. but u never grow tired of them (notice how most of these u encounter in your childhood, and they stay with u through time….probably because that’s when you’re most impressionable!!!!) yeah, n then u grow up…n become a cynic…..and dub it as being realistic…..

Now that’s what I call a cliche!

STAY YOUNG!! & DEMENTED!!!!!#@*@$&@

Snugglin in a chair

It’s 3:28 in the afternoon. This post is just an affirmation….so that I stay awake at work.

Stay awake. Stay AWAKE. I’m enjoying my work. I’m loving it. My eyes are wide open….I’m not stretching or yawning (just a little)…I’m AwaKe…i’mawake imawakeawakeawakeawa………mmmhmmm…..

ZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz………………………………………………………………………..

The (Sing)drome…

It’s happening again….oh no….I can feel it creep up on me.

It’s funny really. It’s another day in office, my colleagues are tapping away furiously on their keyboards (orkuting or actual work, is anyone’s guess), the AC is making that low, humming noise, some two landlines are (miraculously) simultaneously ringing away somewhere, I’ve got a whole load of things to do and some tenacious seniors who need it done NOW….and then, it creeps up on me.

I can’t see it coming…it’s sudden, and inexplicable. I can feel it though. Slowly, it envelopes me, and I am powerless. Totally in its hold. It has a name. I call it The Singdrome.

It usually attacks me in the afternoon….at the infamous 3-3:30 time. Sometimes, it haunts me in the evening in my balcony. It could even be at midnight, when I’m just about to sleep…what I’m talking of, is the urge to SING!!!

Sometimes, I sing while working…much to the, er, delight of my workmates. Sometimes, I sing, they catch on & vice-versa. At times like these, when I feel so insanely disconnected from work, I feel like not talking to anyone…and just singing to myself. Blv it or not, singing, crooning, sometimes even screeching, can unleash a whole load of emotions within …and metaphors too. If it’s a slow song, it’s like being wrapped in cotton…an ‘item’ song is a light tickle, an old English classic is like a cool breeze passing u by, a fast, pacy number is like an electric shock…u get the drift..

The point is, singing/humming revives me. It puts some life into a dull day. And today is the mother of dull days.

Wanna croon with me?  (Psst: have ear buds in my bag for the rest of the population. We’re safe).