‘And when wind and winter harden
All the loveless land,
It will whisper of the garden,
You will understand.’

-Oscar Wilde

Of the beauty of words, and the sensation blithe that pervades et al; I finally convinced my prejudiced and provincial self to concede to listening to some instrumental music [italics reflect big nose scrunches and cheeky cheeks acrobatics]. That was some months ago. I began with the tried and tested [and inherited] classical paraphernalia and gradually progressed to Satriani and the likes. And every time I heard a piece which engaged in an ‘irreconcilable differences’ attitude with its nomenclature, I would be terribly disappointed.
I was listening to girl in a blue dress* today and I love it! Except it sounds like a woman with short, tidy hair in a grey suit. Walking in an unsullied metallic environment with a determined glint in her intense eyes. Terribly disappointed #1.
But then there is whale and wasp by Alice in chains. Which sounds exactly like what the name suggests.
[but the wasp is a fairy in my head…*grins*]
And of course butterfly etude by Chopin, and it is so fast yet contained…you know how a pretty, colourful butterfly will flit from pretty, colourful flower to pretty, colourful flower.
The funeral march by Chopin again…get it, listen to it, my over-elaborate lexicon shall not help. Terrific.
Traveler [Szerelem pay heed] by Satriani is too furious. Whatever happened to the placid tales of travel, the walk on the sand, the inhaling of the sharp mountain air?? Satriani sounds like he is in on his Hayabusa forging onwards to rape some pretty, colourful Japanese chickitas [but I likeeeeeee Satriani, in spite of his naming transgressions]. Terribly disappointed #2.
Saying goodbye aint half bad…redemption rocks! Starry, starry night is perfecto!

I could go on. But a gossip session awaits with some pretty colourful chicks. Do comment.

*yes I do NOT know who it is by. Any help will be appreciated and NOT remunerated.


He began with shine on you crazy diamond [and that has to be my favourite, after high hopes maybe]. And some of the other songs I recongnised were wish you were here, the final cut, comfortably numb, the dark side of the moon...songs pretty much anyone would recognise...
And everyone was swaying from side to side in the floyd-bubble which began from where Mister Waters was sitting and cooing [a trifle far from us...ahem...but well worth it!], and its periphery stretched to include us lesser mortals [minus the Oxford Phds in architecture is it??].
And those Phds certainly made their presence felt. We were in a floyd concert and a graphic novel. Especially this song called leaving Beirut, where Mister Waters made his apparent hate for Bush and his kin very obvious, with super animations on the screen behind. To quote a certain Mister Mittal [incidentally our free-pass provider, mentioned in an earlier post] 'feel aa gayeee!'
It was a brilliant concert, there was no sound distinction in any of the ticket denomination demarcations, the graphics were impressive, and although I have been off Floyd lately [have been listening to a lot of Gilmour though] I enjoyed every bit of it.
I was hoping fervently though that he would play the great gig in the sky. It just seemed like that song would fit the occasion...
And the pink, flying pig [trademark Waters apparently] with its loud calligraphy of Kafka rules!, Habeas Corpus, Free at last et al was soooo intentional. I am thinking Animal Farm. More than Animals. Forgive.

And that was that. Super.


Currently I am revelling in an inconveniently blah mood. I am busting my ass over the software requirement specifications of a tracerouter [project bluuuuuuuues], and it is entirely disconcerting to imagine the degree of blahness at this early a stage.
The reason I must do this by myself is because my project partner is headed out of town tomorrow for the Surathkal fest. And by the time she gets back, I will be en-route to Bombay. Yeah baby!
I am adequately excited. I will be travelling with my Roger Waters-free-pass-provider friend [yeah yippeee yeah!] who is also striving to get us free entry into some of the city's hot nightclubs. Aaaaaaaaah happiness.

Ok fine. I lied. I do not care so much about the partying. I do care about the Waters concert though. I have grown up on Floyd, which is why it was sufficiently easy to convince my Floyd-philic folks to finance my Bombay trip. And I will be meeting up with some old friends in a city that I have always enjoyed visiting. Yes, yes. I AM adequately excited.

Now that my project beckons, I must take your leave. But once the blah-o-meter gets red hot, I shall return. Oh yes, I shall.
Maybe the Satriani in the background will help....NOT.
[heeeeeeeeeee........Borat influences.]


I am a happy child[a tad overgrown but heeeeeeeeee haw anyway]. I have come into a gold mine of movies which I intend to watch over the next couple of weeks.

I had heard so much about Pan's labyrinth that I felt it deserved the inaugural watch. And I must say I was a trifle disappointed. It is an intense mixed genre drama that finds parallels in the worlds of the real and the fantasy. And thus, the insect transmorgifies into a fairy[sadly sounding like a mating cricket], and the wall opens up into a monster's chamber, and death transports you to the higher kingdom of justice[with highly cool seating arrangments I might add]. But there is never a moment of fluidity. The two worlds remain isolated and detached. The only very very obvious link is the crumbling of courage yet its eventual triumph in the face of tyranny.

Now if the insect had remained an insect, but Ofelia saw a fairy. If the monster was not an inhuman carcass with hands for eyes, but a big human hirsute that evoked fear in little Ofelia. And if Ofelia died as she did, but died happy....
That would have been a beautiful merging of the real and that fantasy. Finding magic in the doggedly real lives we live and die. Now that would have been some movie.....

But some great acting, and as always a lovely soundtrack.

I also feel compelled to write about Guru that I watched some days back. I absolutely loved it. It was a goodlooking movie[always a winner!] with some brilliant acting. And it so convincingly mitigated the bureaucratic crimes of a man born of the middle class with its stagnant content and lesser dreams. And the soundtrack was niiiiiiiice. But the clincher was Abhishek Bachchan's lopsided smile, shining white in its honesty and happiness *swoooooons*.

Truly worth a watch.
Next in line - The Prestige, Amores Perros and Borat.
Will keep you posted.