Monday, December 31, 2012


A restored mosque, New Delhi. 

These days have been interesting, as music has been transcending its lyrical and melodic boundaries to open up to me. I’ve been finding more meaning that what’s been served (or maybe not). Lately I’ve been seeing space in music.

I can possibly never thank my friend Firas enough for introducing me to Coke Studio Pakistan two years ago on an afternoon metro ride to college. While he was keen on the Persian Folk poetry, explaining to me the meanings and metaphors in each line, I remember being completely lost somewhere, in the music, thinking to me ‘this is really fresh stuff!’ Such a fresh contemporary take on folk tunes! It was Zeb and Haniya.

Then I heard their brilliant Coke studio collaboration with Javed Bashir. Downloading their album soon after, I heard the original version of the same song which I found to be far more compelling than the coke studio one. The song feels empty, almost like hints of ideas loosely strung together rather than a sound structure with gaping voids. For me this was just enough space to be listening and not be listening to the song at the same time. Much later Haniya also talked about it in their collaboration for the Dewarists.

Somewhere (14:26) in this brilliant documentary about their music, Icelandic post rock band Sigur Ros mention ‘Space is what we have here, in our personal life and in the land as well. [...] people are unconsciously aware of giving you space.’ You have to watch (or at least listen to) the whole movie to know what they really mean here.  My Norwegian friend from child hood Pål Moddi Knutsen now sings and writes music and performs all over Europe as ‘Moddi’. His music lingers in my head for much longer than it’s actually playing for. Sombre and spaced out. 

The post hasn't ended yet. 

Monday, November 12, 2012

रात के हमसफ़र, थक के घर को चले

The eve of Diwali, 2013 and the rickshaw ride back home from the Metro station did no difference.  My head feels dense. I can feel these grey clouds looming over my head. Work goes on just fine. There is finally some sense of progress with Urban Design and clearly the faint appearance of a finish line. Closure is good (I guess, sometimes). I just find it hard to come to terms with it. I don’t understand it. I dislike it. I would rather distract myself and/ or procrastinate. I love to concentrate on getting distracted all the time. The curiosity of the other, what joy!
This Sunday, on the I saw half of An evening in Paris on the flight from Bangalore to Delhi. I chose to only see half, and kept the other half for later. I don't know why. 

काम चोर

Google translate: drone, shirk

noun /drōn/ 

1. A low continuous humming sound
2. A monotonous speech
3. A continuous musical note, typically of low pitch
4. A musical instrument, or part of one, sounding such a continuous note, in particular (also drone pipe) a pipe in a bagpipe or (also drone string) a string in an instrument such as a hurdy-gurdy or a sitar
5. A male bee in a colony of social bees, which does no work but can fertilize a queen
6. A person who does no useful work and lives off others
7. A remote-controlled pilotless aircraft or missile

verb /SHərk/ 

1. Avoid or neglect (a duty or responsibility) 

Waiting on the world to change. 

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Web log

a shared on-line journal where people can post diary entries

I just remembered that this blog was for myself more than others. I see so many brilliant things every day, some less important than the others. I record, I remember. If I want to remember, I must record. Hence.
Now the sharing bit, that’s where it becomes a job and I become lazy. But I want to be selfish and do it for myself. Hence.


College has been crazy lately. I have been losing and finding myself in new ways yet again. I met the president of India recently. (I didn’t really meet him this time, but it just sounds cool) I sang for him. But because of the president, I got to go to the Vigyan Bhawan. With a red pleatfarm sandstone facade, scientific exterior lighting, a mockery of a chaitya hall entrance, architecture was talking, yet again. And I was listening.


Old Delhi has become our weekend home. Seminar 2012 takes us there. We take the Delhi Metro and always record our departure from the metro station and arrival into Shahjahanabad. I find escalators to be wonderful here. I love them everywhere actually, the way they transform our perception. 


An exciting art project starts at Khan market tomorrow!

Monday, May 28, 2012

Breaking News

Rohan Patankar is (presumed) dead, for the time being. 
Until the time he gets over his laziness to come back
 and update this post,
 don't keep waiting.