The World Tomorrow

There's a series of videos on Youtube called 'The World Tomorrow' wherein top leaders, philosophers and analysts are interviewed by Julian Assange. Here's a good one. Assange is interviewing Noam Chomsky and Tariq Ali.

Music To My Ears

Many, many old  gems come up while talking music with dad. Like the other day, we were discussing late 40s and early 50s music, and we remembered a beautiful song from Andaz (1949):

Music is by Naushad. Dad says that in the biography, Daastaan-e-Naushad, the writer Shashikant Kinikar writes that Naushad was a versatile cinephile who didn't just touch music, but also assisted filmmaker friends on story, screenplay, dialogues, direction and editing! And he must be good at it since people used to invite him quite often to do non-music affairs in their films. Some of these credits include the behemoths such as Kohinoor (1960), Mughal-e-Azam (1960) and Pakeezah (1972) among others!!!

Jaane Kya Dhundhti Rehti Hain (Shola Aur Shabnam, 1961)

Music by Khayyam. Lyrics by Kaifi Azmi. The song is in the Ghazal, Shayari genre which I don't like much (except select few by Mehndi Ali, Farida Khanum and Begum Akhtar), but I liked this song. A lot. Khayyam spearheaded the Ghazal genre in Hindi film music, and this is a good example of his forte. Raag Pahadi, but I think not a pure Pahadi. He has put some closeby notes in the song, which probably makes it a mishra-Pahadi, but that if anything makes the song even more beautiful and haunting.

Jeet Hi Lenge Baazi Hum Tum (Shola Aur Shabnam, 1961)

An outstanding song. The music..beautiful. Rafi rocks...what a tender, soothing voice. Very melodious.

Kabhi To Milegi, Kahin To Milegi (Aarti, 1962)

Lata's voice in this song is at its pristine best. आवाज़ जैसे खरे चांदी का कोई खनखनाता रुपहला सिक्का हो...Such perfect notes. And what an unconventional tune! It's in Raag Pahaadi. This song exudes vulnerable positivity. Meena Kumari...how can someone look so sensual even when fully clad? She just tilts her head, or lowers her gaze, and the effect is electrifying. And here I was, only today, telling a friend vehemently that I don't have a type. Who am I kidding? Every time I fall for the same kind of woman...Mysterious, vulnerable, expressive eyes, hint of a smile  - these are a few of my favourite things..

Aaj Se Pehle (Chitchor, 1976)

Kya Hua Tera Vaada (Hum Kisise Kum Naheen, 1977)

Adore this song. The picturisation is tapid, but the song touches the heartstrings of every guy who has some understanding of unrequited love. Remember Poornima from 90s? She gave backing vocals to Rafi here. What a raw, sweet voice. And Rafi...he was a surprise choice indeed by RD, because this movie came at a time when Rafi was an outcast, adrift in the flood of Kishore Kumar's idolisation. That's the reason why I feel Rafi must have picturised not a woman while singing this song but the audience who were once his ardent fans...The forgotten promises and the changing times...Trivia: This is the only song for which Rafi won a national award. In time too, coz Rafi would expire only 3 years later.

Dad is completely appalled by music of this era. He hates almost 90% if not more, of the music made from the day RD burst on the scene with Teesri Manzil in 1966. He becomes visibly disgusted with the western influence that RD brought into Hindi film music. My brother is the polar opposite, whose musical awakening started with the covenant of RD's ochestra. He worships RD and laughs at much of the music of 50-60s. I don't have any such qualms and embrace everything. They become incredulous regarding my choice, because just moments ago we would be discussing something where our choices are in complete unison. As we say in Ecology, they are specialists who are much specific in their musical palate, whereas me much less so, and hence a generalist (not to be confused with populist).

Ankhiyon Ke Jharokhon Se (Ankhiyon Ke Jharokhon Se, 1978)

Beautiful, gentle, refreshingly different song. The rhythm is unique. With many songs you can guess what came first, the lyrics or the music. With some the fit is so tight that it's difficult to imagine what preceded what. Music by Ravindra Jain. From Raag Brindavani Sarang. Some other songs from this raag are Humein To Loot Liya Milke Husnwaalon Ne (Al Hilal, 1958..music by the lesser known Bulo C. Rani), Tere Pyaar Ka Aasra Chaahta Hoon (Dhool Ka Phool, 1959..music by the Goan Dutta Naik, or popularly known as N. Dutta), Mere Mehboob Mein Kya Nahin (Mere Mehboob, 1963..Lata-Asha combo!), Chhadi Re Chhadi Kaise Gale Mein Padi (Mausam, 1975..the only Madan Mohan-Gulzar combo I am aware of).

Suniye, Kahiye (Baton Baton Mein, 1979)

Hothon Se Chhoo Lo Tum (Prem Geet, 1981)

This was an oft-sung, oft-heard song to the extent that it had become boring. And then it disappeared all of a sudden. No one ever talks about it anymore.

Mera Kuchh Saamaan (Ijaazat, 1987)

This is the famous song which when Gulzar took to RD, RD exclaimed, 'why have you brought this news cutting?!' Raju Bharatan says, that no one could imagine that such a song could be put to music, and that if anyone could, it was to be RD.

Whenever people talk about this song, you get to hear about Asha. But some songs belong to music directors over and above everyone else, and this is one such song. A gem..

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You usually find that a hit director and music director team comes together again and again, to a level when soundtracks of successive films sound similar. Case in point: RK - Shankar Jaikishan. Navketan - SD. Burman. Chetan Anand - Madan Mohan. Nasir Hussain - RD. But if you look at Yash Chopra's filmography and the music in his films, you will notice a strikingly lateral choice of music directors. Out of 22 movies he directed, his choice of music directors included N. Dutta (twice), Ravi (twice), Salil Choudhury, Laxmikant Pyarelal, RD (twice), Khayyam (twice), Rajesh Roshan, Hridaynath Mangeshkar, Uttam Singh, Madan Mohan and A. R. Rahman. The only music directors he repeated more than twice were Shiv-Hari - a staggering seven times, which comprises of 1/3rd of his career as a director. Many of these were not popular names at all. But the music they gave was top notch!

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Kisi Shaayar Ki Ghazal - Dream Girl (1977)

Liking for this song is enough to be expelled from any music aficionado club. I find it easy, nothing more, nothing less. It looks a tad tacky in colour, but in Black n White, this song was no less than a fairy tale. In those times I used to spend much of my time on figuring out questions my brain couldn't fathom. Such as how do actors change into new clothes so quickly! I tried it many times at home, sometimes changing the whole wardrobe, sometimes wearing three-four shirts and trousers over one another, just to check how much time I require to get into a complete new set of clothes, but to my chagrin it was always more than the split second they took on screen. I knew that it had to be a trick, but couldn't figure it out. I asked mom and dad a lot about how they do that, and they sincerely tried to answer about the shots and cuts and other technicalities, but I didn't understand it, because for me, each movie was taken as a single shot, from start to finish.

Coming from that mindset, this song was an utter mystery because the song is filled with weird special effects. Dharmendra walking on Hema Malini's flowing upper body clothing. It was crazy. I just went mad with curiosity and later with frustration at my inability to crack the filming technique.

But the reason why I think this song is set so resolutely in my memory is coz this is the the first song I remember watching on TV. We didn't have a television while growing up, so my friend Shashank's place was a godsend. I had a pet place in their TV room, just close to the door leading to the kitchen. There was a tall, thin bed prepared by putting a few bedsheets and duvets over three metallic grain containers.

The movie would start on Saturday and Sunday in the early evenings. Sushama kaku would be in the kitchen. Pappu mama would be in the front yard. Aaji would be doing puja. And Shashank, Mithila and I would be in the TV room.

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Dad's love for music was much subdued and deep, my brother's more forceful and strong, and both left quite an impression. I believe I learnt to love music from dad, and to perform it from Aks. There are so many songs I heard dad sing at home and play on mandolin...and so many I saw Aks perform in his college orchestra.

I followed Aks to all his orchestras and heard him sing, and later on sung some of these songs myself in my college dos, and we tend to bond a lot over them:

Jaan-e-Jaan - Jawani Diwani (1972)

Neele Neele Ambar Par - Kalakaar (1982)

Ai Kaash Ke Hum - Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa (1994)

Dad is a much-in-demand singer among family and friends. Everyone is stuck on their own favourites of his which he must have sung a lot when he was younger:

Ye Raat Ye Chaandni Phir Kahaan (Jaal, 1952)

and..

Kisiki Muskuraahaton Pe Ho Nisaar (Anari, 1959)

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Time to introduce you to the song that had become a family anthem of sorts, especially during and around our yearly Kerala visits. From a movie called Darshan (1967), made in then East Pakistan. I don't know how someone got hold of this song, but my hunch is that some Malayali family friend who travelled to mid-East in late 70s-early 80s must have got hold of it, brought it back with him, and then someone in Danagram must have heard it, and then that's how we got to hear it. It's one of the earliest memories I have of Kerala, and is still reminiscent of mango and coconut trees, the old house,the old wooden treasure full of Amar Chitra Katha, the cultural programmes in the evening, the dinner by the lanterns, the careless abandon, love and trust with which all four of us spent time with each other and with other brothers, sisters, aunts and grandpa. There was so much love and joy...

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I had a peculiar habit throughout my adolescence. I would put on music in full volume while having lunch before leaving for school and college. That was one time when no one used to be at home, and hence my music time. The home in Gopuri was such that I didn't have to worry about noise levels since the green fence insulated everything. The music chosen was decided completely randomly. So some days it was the 90s Hindi film music which I really liked, but most of the time it would be old music or Indian classical music since that's what we had most in our collection, and sometimes it was even Malayalam and Tamil music. Mom had brought a sizeable collection to Wardha from Danagram. The odd times when mom and dad would be at home at this time of the day, it was perplexing for them to see and hear me listening to something that I am not really expected to listen to. I did not especially liked this music or sometimes didn't even understand it, owing to the era, style or language, but I couldn't really change my own rules. There was in fact just one rule. Listen to all the cassettes one by one. The reason was very childish but logical :) I knew that some cassettes are heard more often than other. So the cassettes that are not heard had to feel left out and ignored and that when all of us slept in the night, and when all the 'non-living' objects came to life, the ones that are ignored must be feeling shitty when they heard the popular ones bragging. So my project and responsibility in life at that point was to make all music cassettes feel wanted. This began as early as middle school I think. This sounds funny, but that's how listening to everything, even things you didn't understand and appreciate, began. Later of course, the emotional and equality part of the reasoning disappeared, but by that time I was already hooked onto these different styles of music. This democratic style of listening to music helped me to not just broaden my taste and ear for different styles of music, but also made me more open to listen to anything without pre-conceived notion.

The Invisible War..

...is a disturbing documentary about women sexual assault in US military. The issue itself lends more than enough impact and credence to the film. Ghastly statistics.

16000 women candidates face sexual assault per year in US, only 20% of which are reported. 
Out of these ~3000 reported cases, only 175 or so reach the final stage of conviction.
The conviction rate is thus 1%.

The reason for this abominable conviction rate is the current lack of provision in US constitution against crimes committed by or on military personnels to be tried in civil courts. They are carried out completely under the jurisdiction of the military. The perpetrators are thus also "the judge, the jury and the executioners".

Many of these women are in turn relieved from duty, after giving as long as 10 years of their lives to the profession and to the country. Not only relieved, they were in turn convicted for deliberately acting like a victim and fabricating false cases. The accused however kept rising in ranks, and perpetrating crimes. Many of these men are serial sexual assaulters and will keep repeating this.

The movie ends on a positive note saying that the rights of US military to have the sole right to prosecute its personnel were taken away. But don't be fooled. A little reading shows that this is wrong. The military still holds complete jurisdiction over the crimes committed in its premises, and by and on its personnel.

Felt more outraged than distressed, but most of all a gnawing helplessness. Kept thinking whether India or US, things are not very different for women. Womanhood should be appreciated and valued by each man. In today's world, it's precisely the opposite. It's molested, persecuted and victimised.

Whatever Works

There are days when I feel I am on fire, and can take on anything and accomplish it. Today is one such day. I approached an unfinished manuscript with great wariness, but have been successful in editing and almost finishing it to my own manic surprise. If I knew what's it that I did differently today that's contributing to such output, I would create a secret formula for myself and stash it away in my treasure trove, but no such luck. Everything has been done just the way it usually proceeds. In any case, glad to have such surprisingly productive days once in a while.

PS. There has been a scientific study which says that if you want to come back to your unfinished task with enthusiasm, leave it at a point when you are happy with it rather than when you become tired. If that's indeed true, I would hardly get anything done!

Athens

I slept throughout my travel and woke up with a start as the Air France aircraft hit turbulence nearer to Athens. I believe AF flights take it as a personal pride when their aircrafts shake and shudder in mid air. In fact, there had to be a procedural plug on the dashboard to be pulled to scare shit out of all aboard. At that moment however, I was glad it made such a commotion, coz dying in sleep is cool only when you are old and wasn't my idea of how I wanted to die right then. If I had to die, I rather look the death in the face, so I leaned and looked out with anticipation.

Downtown Athens, though inland, is in close proximity to Mediterranean Sea, and the offshoots thereof, such as Ionian & Aegean Seas. The aerial view of these islands is as beautiful as the names of these seas. Athens is located on the Argosaronikos Gulf, and it makes for a stunning seascape.

Everything I thought I knew about Athens from the newspapers and hearsay, I threw it in the airport dustbin the moment I landed. Two reasons: It was cold. It was posh.I hadn't packed much in the way of winter. I should have known the limits of European definition of 'sunny and hot'. For me it was still chilly.

The great thing about the Athens Airport was that it is open. Paris is dark and cold and makes a bleak appearance. Athens on the other hand made for an appearance closely resembling the Greeks as I was about to discover. I guess, the way a city welcomes you can be taken as a proxy for its overall disposition. I love Paris. But the carefree, sunny, relaxed disposition that Mediterranean climate bestows on the Southern Europe is sourly missing in Paris.

Northern countries make for better infrastructure though as they are less relaxed. Airport-Downtown Athens metros are every 30 minutes. I missed the frequency of Metros in Paris.

While loitering aimlessly on the train station, I saw this and I kept staring...

No way! This was seriously snazzy! Could I actually read Greek if I tried? The Greek alphabets were riding the flashes of my memory and all the highschool and college Physics started unravelling in front of my eyes. The shapes started making sense. Alpha, beta gamma, delta...so on till omega. So, I didn't always understand what it meant, but I could still read it! Can you? Try and you will succeed. Many of these words are of course similar to English. I love linguistics, especially the ontogeny and etymology of words, and it was a treat, these four days, just to keep reading and making sense of shapes, and then words. Another common word on the train station...ΕΞΟΔΟΣ (or Εξοδοσ)...Can you read it? It says, Epsilon-Xi-Omicron-Delta-Omicron-Sigma...Exodos...or exodus on more commonly, exit in English!

After a long train ride, I reached the heart of Athens. I checked-in, took bath, stepped out, got some food, ate, took a nap and then went out for a long night walk.

Every nook, every corner, in fact every road had something that was lying there since last 2000 years. Much of it is subterranean as the modern city has been built over the ancient ruins. Instead of making complicated pathways leading tourists to the sites of underground ruins, the Greeks have devised an ingenious way of exhibiting their treasure to the tourists. You will see glass portals on the roads and pavements through which people can look. It's a crazy contradiction. So, on my left and right were H&Ms, GAPs, ZARAz, MANGOs and C&As of the world, and below me were stones dating back to the BCs of the world. Are you fucking kidding me?!

I kept walking and came across a crossroad where a fellow was singing some folk songs and playing something like a Mandolin. I lingered around. I sat on a stone (who knows how old it must be) and kept listening to his sonorous voice. Gentle breeze, air strung with the smell of pizza and bread, and dim white light streaming from someplace. I looked up to see where is this source of light, moved a block, and met with a dazzling demonstration of architecture sitting snugly on a distant hill which we all know as Acropolis and Parthenon!

The Lunchbox..

...in a theatre in Paris! What a treat!

The French reviewers have been lapping up this movie...As you can see on the poster, someone said, un petit régal - one little treat; and une comédie romantique dans laquelle on se pend avec plaisir - a romantic comedy one spends time with with pleasure.

In one of the best arrondissements in Paris, the 5th...The theatre was this small quaint movie hall called Cinéma La Clef, and reminded me a lot of the M.G. Road in Bangalore in early 2000s before the onslaught of Forums and Garudas. All those vintage movie halls...Symphony, Plaza, Rex...

The theatre was full of firangs, and I was the only Indian.

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The movie was amazing. Liked Nimrat Kaur! She reminded me a lot of an old friend from PU. Gentle, soft-spoken, expressive eyes, and vulnerable. Irrfan Khan was good too but you can see the casual manner that has kinda become a technique now. Nawazuddin was fucking brilliant. Effortless and smooth. Everytime he came the audience cracked up. And yeah, Bharti Achrekar! She cracked up the crowd too. I loved the idea that (minor spoiler!) she is not visible, but her voice makes the presence felt every 10 minutes in her dialogues with Nimrat Kaur. What a brilliant concept to signify the isolation in cities. The french subtitles were well done, the crowd was responding fine, and they gave an ovation at the end! And then the most unusual thing happened that never happens in Paris...people were turning back and looking at me and smiling, most probably acknowledging my Indian presence, and probably acknowledging how much they liked the movie. It was a moment of great pride.

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Parisians love movies, and Paris is a great city for movie buffs. They especially love movies from 40s, 50s and 60s. The movie tickets are printed on the back with images from old classics. Here's the ticket for Lunchbox, and what do we have at the back? It's a famous Hollywood movie of the 50s with a translated French title of course! Have a look!