Crazy for You - Madonna
Monday, March 23, 2009
Crazy For You
And after Tu Kahan I guess I have to follow it up with the song it always reminds me of. Not without reason was Alisha widely regarded as the Indian reincarnation of Madonna. I might be stretching things a bit here, but even in my childhood I couldn't help but marvel at some striking similarity between these two songs. I am yet to pinpoint the similarity or similarities but deep inside I cannot ignore them. Anyways...here is the original by Madonna (1985 and for the film Vision Quest). And for the record Tu Kahan from Alisha's Made In India was released in 1995. That gap still makes me wince.
Crazy for You - Madonna
Crazy for You - Madonna
Tu Kahan
After years of periodic yahoo-ing and googling, I finally find it today - my favorite Alisha song. The exasperating part of this search was that I simply did not manage to find this song/CD anywhere - believe me, I have searched in the San Francisco Bay Area, Waterloo, New Jersey, Toronto, Montreal, Kolkata, Chembur (Mumbai) - need I say more? I was sort of getting more desperate the more this song eluded me. I mean, in this age of zero communication gap, zero distances, how hard can it possibly be to find a song you want to listen to? Trust me my friend, I had to work very hard for this one :-P
Anyways, thanks to imeem.com, finally listened to the song to heart's content. It is amazing how much work I got done this weekend, but it was finally finding this song that overshadowed everything and made me feel I finally have had a fruitful weekend. Am certainly pumped.
I had listened to the album Made in India probably when it was released and it was just this one song that stood out in my memory. Probably because it was the closest to classical soft rock in the Indian pop scene at that point. When I listened to it today, after all these years, I know precisely why it stood out. Certainly not disappointed. Worth the wait and the tireless search alright.
Enjoy. Cheers.
Tu Kahan - Alisha
Anyways, thanks to imeem.com, finally listened to the song to heart's content. It is amazing how much work I got done this weekend, but it was finally finding this song that overshadowed everything and made me feel I finally have had a fruitful weekend. Am certainly pumped.
I had listened to the album Made in India probably when it was released and it was just this one song that stood out in my memory. Probably because it was the closest to classical soft rock in the Indian pop scene at that point. When I listened to it today, after all these years, I know precisely why it stood out. Certainly not disappointed. Worth the wait and the tireless search alright.
Enjoy. Cheers.
Tu Kahan - Alisha
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Titanic
I have had great luck with kids on any of the flights I have boarded in the past. There is usually some wailing six month old baby that makes me wish I'd never been born and has me scurrying deep into the tiny comforter and pillow the airline staff provide me with. "God, why me, simply why does it have to be me" I keep crying inside as the toddler wails away.
This time was different. There were no toddlers aboard my flight from New Delhi to Toronto. I beamed with confidence after having surveyed the scene. It was too good to be true. Flying across the Labrador Sea from Brussels to Toronto, I noticed the in-flight Navigator display -79F outside with the plane traveling at 500 mph at an altitude of 39K ft. I noticed a flurry of activity in the seat directly in front. A couple of harmless kids jostling for window space. No big deal, we must have all done that at some point. I relaxed. The entertainment channels were very masterfully packaged and I began slipping into the second movement of Beethoven's haunting Op.61 played out by Karajan and Anne-Sophie Mutter.
"Dude, do you think we will all freeze to death like in the Titanic if we fall into the sea below?"
"What do you mean if we fall", asks the second one, peering almost outside the window now.
"...like if the plane crashes into the sea".
Even as Annie Sophie-Mutter effortlessly spun out those mesmerizing notes, my ears picked up the disturbance. Drat that kid.
Various gory scenes of the doomed Titanic flashed before my eyes and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
"Dude, we will be eaten by the sharks before we can freeze to death".
Beautiful. I wondered why I hadn't managed to think of that possibility.
"Ravish, do you think the helicopters will come to save us like in the movies?"
I gulped twice in quick succession.
"See that is why I wear this thick jacket when I travel. Dad says this is like a life jacket. But don't you worry, the Canadian government will save us in no time, you silly boy."
I gulped loudly this time. These were no ordinary kids. I craned my neck to see whoever this Ravish kid was. My thoughts returned to my poor self immediately and the pall of gloom descended once again. I knew I was doomed. I looked at my passport. With my Indian passport, my chances of surviving the cold Atlantic waters seemed quite bleak.
"Coke sir?", the smiling angel-faced air-hostess seemed like a different world.
"Ah...um...oh...sure, why not, thanks." I might as well I decided. Who knows when the next contact with a glass of Coke might be made? My mind and soul totally disturbed by the sudden thought of the drowning Titanic, two kids in front spinning out doomsday stories by the minute, sharks coming out of nowhere to give me a dirty look, I took out my PDA and promptly added a new To-Do item in my To-Do list :
"1. IMPORTANT : Apply for Canadian Citizenship immediately. ASAP.".
Beethoven's Op.61 seemed different for the rest of that flight. I continued to stare at infinity, unable to sleep for a split second. A bit later my eyes drifted to the seat right in front of me. There were two little heads popping out of a tangle of comforters and pillows, sound asleep. I had to smile at these two. "Goodnight", I wished them. "May you always sleep so soundly."
This time was different. There were no toddlers aboard my flight from New Delhi to Toronto. I beamed with confidence after having surveyed the scene. It was too good to be true. Flying across the Labrador Sea from Brussels to Toronto, I noticed the in-flight Navigator display -79F outside with the plane traveling at 500 mph at an altitude of 39K ft. I noticed a flurry of activity in the seat directly in front. A couple of harmless kids jostling for window space. No big deal, we must have all done that at some point. I relaxed. The entertainment channels were very masterfully packaged and I began slipping into the second movement of Beethoven's haunting Op.61 played out by Karajan and Anne-Sophie Mutter.
"Dude, do you think we will all freeze to death like in the Titanic if we fall into the sea below?"
"What do you mean if we fall", asks the second one, peering almost outside the window now.
"...like if the plane crashes into the sea".
Even as Annie Sophie-Mutter effortlessly spun out those mesmerizing notes, my ears picked up the disturbance. Drat that kid.
Various gory scenes of the doomed Titanic flashed before my eyes and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
"Dude, we will be eaten by the sharks before we can freeze to death".
Beautiful. I wondered why I hadn't managed to think of that possibility.
"Ravish, do you think the helicopters will come to save us like in the movies?"
I gulped twice in quick succession.
"See that is why I wear this thick jacket when I travel. Dad says this is like a life jacket. But don't you worry, the Canadian government will save us in no time, you silly boy."
I gulped loudly this time. These were no ordinary kids. I craned my neck to see whoever this Ravish kid was. My thoughts returned to my poor self immediately and the pall of gloom descended once again. I knew I was doomed. I looked at my passport. With my Indian passport, my chances of surviving the cold Atlantic waters seemed quite bleak.
"Coke sir?", the smiling angel-faced air-hostess seemed like a different world.
"Ah...um...oh...sure, why not, thanks." I might as well I decided. Who knows when the next contact with a glass of Coke might be made? My mind and soul totally disturbed by the sudden thought of the drowning Titanic, two kids in front spinning out doomsday stories by the minute, sharks coming out of nowhere to give me a dirty look, I took out my PDA and promptly added a new To-Do item in my To-Do list :
"1. IMPORTANT : Apply for Canadian Citizenship immediately. ASAP.".
Beethoven's Op.61 seemed different for the rest of that flight. I continued to stare at infinity, unable to sleep for a split second. A bit later my eyes drifted to the seat right in front of me. There were two little heads popping out of a tangle of comforters and pillows, sound asleep. I had to smile at these two. "Goodnight", I wished them. "May you always sleep so soundly."
Thursday, January 8, 2009
From Kolkata, With Love
You folks have been a real inspiration. I am vacationing in Kolkata currently. Wanted to share a couple of pictures I took (with a very crappy camera) and which I would like to dedicate to my readers.
With lots of love from Kolkata and best wishes for a rocking 2009!
With lots of love from Kolkata and best wishes for a rocking 2009!
Sunday, August 17, 2008
61
I read a number of articles recently and watched some of the telecasts on the Indian channels, on India turning 61. The Indian media hype was as usual, hyped up.
There is the usual celeb interviews (of course it is of paramount importance to India and her future, what the latest Bollywood idiot thinks of 1947 and Independence Day) :
"Sir, aapko kya lagta hai? India aaj 61 saal ki ho gayi hai."
"Sir aap kaise celebrate kar rahe hain - this year's Independence Day?"
The Govinda or the Ranbir-bunny-boy would adjust his hair, put on his cutest smile and say:
"Bahut achcha lag raha hai. Humne bahut tarakki kar li hai in salon mein. Dekhiye aaj Bollywood global ho gaya hai."
Beautiful. Sums up 61 years beautifully and aptly. What more do you expect from a Bollywood idiot?
Otherwise the media would hound some unsuspecting, troubled soul as he goes about his strangling, household chore, having given in to his nagging wife's unceasing command - "Go, get some maach from the bazaar".
No sooner has he crossed the hazardous street that a pseudo-intellectual-looking girl emerges from nowhere, brandishing her left hand, deftly pushing away other noise (oh the by-standers who immediately throng any such media appearance) from her prey. She zooms in at alarming speed, thrusts the mic into the troubled man's face.
Before he has a chance to react or even realize what is on:
"Hello...aapko kya lagta hai? Kal India ka 61st birthday hai"?
What does she expect the poor man to say?
Recount the last 61 years of history which every kid has to painfully study to clear his/her Board exams?
Recount the progression of Bollywood from Prithviraj Kapoor to the latest Kapoor boy?
Tell her how much easier life has become for him since he lost his Independence, read got married?
Tell her how much, simply how much Indian media has progressed from the gloomy, murky Doordarshan days of 1980 to the approximately 300 channels that have popped up out of nowhere to hound the common man in such cavalier fashion?
Maybe the common man can recount all of the above and more. But all he manages is a shy smile. Come forth the camera man right behind this lady wearing the Kal-Tak badge and he turns into a different creature.
At times he says "Pata nahin", scratching his head vigorously.
At times he says "Bahut achcha lag raha hai. Hum independent hain" and shoots his best smile at the camera.
At times he probably manages to utter "Biwi, tum hi kuch batao na..." staring like the toad-proper into the camera.
But the best part of this that I like is the 500-odd people who gheraofy the poor man at the center of it all. They push, they jostle with each other, even putting their arms around the guy being interviewed, some smiling at the camera, some winking at the girl doing the interview, some acting like disciplinarians in dictating how others around should behave, some simply standing there - clueless about what is happening.
When I saw a number of these being telecast on some of the Indian channels, I really had to go for a beer. I was actually slightly upbeat about the 61st Indian Independence Day celebrations. Was even thinking of heading for the flag hoisting at the Indian Consulate in downtown Toronto.
But having watched the media representation of India's independence, having watched all the Ranbirs, the Bipashas, the Rahuls, the Ramus, the Gitas and the Sitas give their esteemed views, the media treating it as if it were a post-match or a movie analysis, I somehow lost track of it all.
The beer provided the much needed solace.
Happy 61st year India!
There is the usual celeb interviews (of course it is of paramount importance to India and her future, what the latest Bollywood idiot thinks of 1947 and Independence Day) :
"Sir, aapko kya lagta hai? India aaj 61 saal ki ho gayi hai."
"Sir aap kaise celebrate kar rahe hain - this year's Independence Day?"
The Govinda or the Ranbir-bunny-boy would adjust his hair, put on his cutest smile and say:
"Bahut achcha lag raha hai. Humne bahut tarakki kar li hai in salon mein. Dekhiye aaj Bollywood global ho gaya hai."
Beautiful. Sums up 61 years beautifully and aptly. What more do you expect from a Bollywood idiot?
Otherwise the media would hound some unsuspecting, troubled soul as he goes about his strangling, household chore, having given in to his nagging wife's unceasing command - "Go, get some maach from the bazaar".
No sooner has he crossed the hazardous street that a pseudo-intellectual-looking girl emerges from nowhere, brandishing her left hand, deftly pushing away other noise (oh the by-standers who immediately throng any such media appearance) from her prey. She zooms in at alarming speed, thrusts the mic into the troubled man's face.
Before he has a chance to react or even realize what is on:
"Hello...aapko kya lagta hai? Kal India ka 61st birthday hai"?
What does she expect the poor man to say?
Recount the last 61 years of history which every kid has to painfully study to clear his/her Board exams?
Recount the progression of Bollywood from Prithviraj Kapoor to the latest Kapoor boy?
Tell her how much easier life has become for him since he lost his Independence, read got married?
Tell her how much, simply how much Indian media has progressed from the gloomy, murky Doordarshan days of 1980 to the approximately 300 channels that have popped up out of nowhere to hound the common man in such cavalier fashion?
Maybe the common man can recount all of the above and more. But all he manages is a shy smile. Come forth the camera man right behind this lady wearing the Kal-Tak badge and he turns into a different creature.
At times he says "Pata nahin", scratching his head vigorously.
At times he says "Bahut achcha lag raha hai. Hum independent hain" and shoots his best smile at the camera.
At times he probably manages to utter "Biwi, tum hi kuch batao na..." staring like the toad-proper into the camera.
But the best part of this that I like is the 500-odd people who gheraofy the poor man at the center of it all. They push, they jostle with each other, even putting their arms around the guy being interviewed, some smiling at the camera, some winking at the girl doing the interview, some acting like disciplinarians in dictating how others around should behave, some simply standing there - clueless about what is happening.
When I saw a number of these being telecast on some of the Indian channels, I really had to go for a beer. I was actually slightly upbeat about the 61st Indian Independence Day celebrations. Was even thinking of heading for the flag hoisting at the Indian Consulate in downtown Toronto.
But having watched the media representation of India's independence, having watched all the Ranbirs, the Bipashas, the Rahuls, the Ramus, the Gitas and the Sitas give their esteemed views, the media treating it as if it were a post-match or a movie analysis, I somehow lost track of it all.
The beer provided the much needed solace.
Happy 61st year India!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Crossroad
If you could guess the contents of this post from its title, I'd bow down to you and forever be your chela trying to learn a trick or two about solving cryptic crosswords. Why this cryptic fascination all of a sudden you ask?
They say old habits die hard. And I nod away at jumbo speed. I used to compete with my Aunty back in my childhood days in solving the Quick Crossword that appeared in the Telegraph, Calcutta. That was one of the things I sorely missed upon leaving the city. Almost a decade later, when Telegraph India came up with its online edition, it somehow filled a big void in my soul. But it was not until recently that they introduced their Quick Crossword online (which they publish by arrangement with the Daily Telegraph, UK).
I found it only recently. And the joy was boundless. Come storm or sunshine, a constant part of my day is solving this crossword online. Add to it, the daily circulating pulse of the regular participants from all over and it is a wonderful feel to be able to complete the crossword and hit the Submit button. You too can hop in. Here : The Telegraph India Quick Crossword.
The only downside of this exercise is that somehow I cannot help but feel I am better equipped now than a decade ago, in tackling the Quick crossword. I still enjoy it but manage to solve it pretty easily and maybe that is the reason it doesn't seem as challenging or exciting as it used to. Not entirely sure but I certainly do not want to jinx it.
I promptly called up my Aunty to inform her of this renewed love interest of mine. She had already solved the day's puzzle. She also gave me an update: she has long since moved on to the Cryptic Crossword. Ah, different game altogether. Unfortunately, Telegraph India does not publish the cryptic crossword online. So again I stand, like I did a decade back, looking up to the Telegraph, at the crossroads. I really hope they publish the daily cryptic Crossroad soon. Oops, I meant the Daily Cryptic Crossword.
They say old habits die hard. And I nod away at jumbo speed. I used to compete with my Aunty back in my childhood days in solving the Quick Crossword that appeared in the Telegraph, Calcutta. That was one of the things I sorely missed upon leaving the city. Almost a decade later, when Telegraph India came up with its online edition, it somehow filled a big void in my soul. But it was not until recently that they introduced their Quick Crossword online (which they publish by arrangement with the Daily Telegraph, UK).
I found it only recently. And the joy was boundless. Come storm or sunshine, a constant part of my day is solving this crossword online. Add to it, the daily circulating pulse of the regular participants from all over and it is a wonderful feel to be able to complete the crossword and hit the Submit button. You too can hop in. Here : The Telegraph India Quick Crossword.
The only downside of this exercise is that somehow I cannot help but feel I am better equipped now than a decade ago, in tackling the Quick crossword. I still enjoy it but manage to solve it pretty easily and maybe that is the reason it doesn't seem as challenging or exciting as it used to. Not entirely sure but I certainly do not want to jinx it.
I promptly called up my Aunty to inform her of this renewed love interest of mine. She had already solved the day's puzzle. She also gave me an update: she has long since moved on to the Cryptic Crossword. Ah, different game altogether. Unfortunately, Telegraph India does not publish the cryptic crossword online. So again I stand, like I did a decade back, looking up to the Telegraph, at the crossroads. I really hope they publish the daily cryptic Crossroad soon. Oops, I meant the Daily Cryptic Crossword.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Bekaraar
You won't believe the wonders a drink in your hand can do to you at times. Especially on the coveted Friday evenings. Yet to correlate it exactly though. It was yet another evening, yet another drink, Sam played on the keyboard, a few random notes and then this song came alive. I penned the lyrics, composed the tune, did a few dry runs, Sam did the mixing and here it is. So with all due credit to him, it should be our first original song ever. Please pardon the poor quality of recording. If it makes sense maybe, shall take it to a proper recording studio someday.
Anyways. Here goes...Enjoy, given a certain risk to your ear buds ;-)
Anyways. Here goes...Enjoy, given a certain risk to your ear buds ;-)
| bekaraar3.mp3 |
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