There she sat, perched upon the boulder bordering the river, slumbering awake beneath the clear, blue skin of a sky. Headphones plugged into her ears, eyes fastened shut, the music pouring into her very being - and she was suddenly swimming in a river, the river snaking up and around and through mountains that were the sum of all colors. She was both inside them and outside them. They were the blue of a newly born river, the lime of a budding seedling, jade of a rain-washed tree, and the mauve of a decaying mogra. She did not know where these mountains were; perhaps, they existed only in the planet of her imagination, whose terrain she knew only so little of and still had so much to explore. She kept her eyes shut, knowing that the moment she opened them, the mountains would evanescence, the river would dry up, and she would be left with the indomitable gray bedrock of reality from which there would be no escape, no escape at all. And how could she let that happen?
**
This is the second part of my collaboration with my painter friend, Vidya; in the first part, she had beautifully interpreted one of my images and accompanying text through her art while here, I seek to give words to a musical dreamscape she magically evokes in this painting.
I hope you enjoyed partaking of our collaboration as much as we enjoyed participating in it!
Back during my school-days, the musical phenomenon known as Indipop had really taken off and I remember being unusually quite into music during that time, eagerly buying the audio cassettes of favorite artistes and musicians (how retro it sounds to refer to audio cassettes...and yet it was not *that* long ago, sigh!)Yet, to once more state the obvious, interestingly conceptualised music-videos created to market the songs were the ones that ensnared my attention first and subsequently made me familiar with the songs - and there were some well-thought out ones produced at the time. In my opinion, though, the advent of remixing Bolly songs in the early noughties pretty much killed Indi-pop and sucked the soul from the videos as well.
Sung by the late renowned singer, Ustad Sultan Khan and South-Indian chanteuse, Chitra and directed by Pradeep Sarkar (who happened to make a lot of great music videos at the time - his movies, though, barring Parineeta, such as Laaga Chunri Mein Daag and Lafange Parindey, I am not such a fan of), the music video, Piya Basanti became hugely popular, both due to Sandesh Shandilya's music as well as the beautifully-conceived and directed music video itself. Unsurprisingly, I became more drawn towards the song due to repeatedly viewing the video and I recalled eagerly awaiting to catching a glimpse of it whenever it appeared on the music video channels in that innocent pre-YouTube era:)
Piya Basanti
Apart from its super cute couple, Naheed Cyrusi and Donovan, I loved the video's story arc and the way Sarkar presented literally-love-at-first-sight narrative between an innocent mountain-village girl and terrorist (I think?) without overdosing on the saccharine factor*- plus, the landscape (I believe it was shot in the northern Indian mountain state of Himachal Pradesh) and weather play a major role in the video as well: the thick, swirling clouds, the rain-washed green, the smell of rain, and the cold of the mountains add so much atmosphere. I know, I know, I conceded that I am more of a beach gal than a mountain one...but seeing this video always makes me want to race off to the hills!
I also loved the little details embedded in the narrative, such as that of the seemingly innocuous daisy:
As seen in the visual above, Naheed is wearing an aubergine-hued Himachali outfit and I remember purchasing a similarly hued kurta around that time (trust me to remember outfits!)
The video also built up much hype for a second installment, driving the narrative forward, which I thought was an interesting concept at the time. I especially love the beginning of the video which used the haunting track, Yeh teri surmayi aankhen... I also liked the fact that there were layers to the narrative - the music was undoubtedly integral to the video yet the narrative was equally compelling on its own...it wasn't merely just showcasing the music.
Surmayi Aankhen/Chale Re
Listening to songs favorited from your past is akin to biting into chocolates of nostalgia: when you hear those songs, you are once more transported to a specific time-period of your past, remembering how your life was then, remembering how you envisioned your future then, reliving that present. While listening to the song, you become that person once again. But what happens when the song finishes playing? Would you ever want to return to being that person again?
Perhaps, this quote sums it all:
"The past is a foreign country: they do things differently over there."
The Go-Between, L.P Hartley
*Indipop music aficionados, does anyone recall the unbearably cloying and cheesy 'Chui Mui Si Lagti Ho' series of music videos starring Preeti Jhangiani and Abbas? I wouldn't be surprised if the term, cho-chweet originated after seeing those videos:P
Now, here's a post label that I never thought would find its way over here: music! I have often remarked (and indeed, it is pretty much the reason behind the name of this blog) that I have never particularly been a connoisseur of music - it is something that I can entirely do without and not particularly feel its absence in my life. Yet, I have been lately thinking that it is quite a blanket statement to declare so: after all, am I really that immune to music? There have been several periods/occasions in my life where music has been a solace and had the ability to take me out of myself and my thoughts and transplant me elsewhere, that kingdom of music.
Sakar Khan, National Award winning Maganiyar artiste, playing upon the traditional Maganiyar instrument, khamaycha
During the Jaisalmer trip, I had to interview few members of Rajasthani hereditary folk musicians, the Maganiyars in their native village, Hameera, about 15km from Jaisalmer; we reached their home just before lunch and they aptly enough chose to answer my questions through an impromptu concert, first performing the traditional Rajasthani song of welcome, 'Kesariya Balam' before playing a host of melodies. If it were not for the fact that we had to return to Jodhpur that day itself, we could have remained there the whole day, well into the evening, becoming completely immersed in the soul of their music. These particular Maganiyar musicians had been performing centuries-old musical legacies for many decades and within India and abroad and had been feted for their art: yet, in that moment, we were their exclusive audience and we in turn were captive, oblivious to all that surrounded us.
Maganiyar artistes performing in the show, The Maganiyar Seduction
As we drove away from Hameera, the music still remained within the orbit of my thoughts, playing on loop in my head. What struck me that day was that the musicians and their musical heritage had literally woven the haunting, piercing notes of the desert winds into the fabric of their compositions...and even now, whenever I happen to listen to their music, I feel that I am in a desert of sorts, their music providing the most welcome antidote to any desolation I may potentially experience there.
Nevertheless, while the experience awakened an awareness within me as to what sort of music I gravitate to, it was the newly launched music-travel show, The Dewarists which reminded me that perhaps, the presence of visuals or a strong visual narrative and context nevertheless makes music much more accessible to me, strangely enough. In this particular episode, music-composer, Shantanu Moitra, who has composed for films such as Parineeta, and lyricist, Swanand Kirkire collaborate with Pakistan's first female pop band, Zeb and Haniya in Bombay (incidentally, digressing unabashedly, the episode features them visiting Bombay's Chor Bazaar and rummaging through vintage Hindi film posters - I was super envious as it's one place in Bombay which I am dying to visit).
For me, I significantly enjoyed witnessing the process of creating music: meshing of ideas, musicians jamming together, assembling lyrics, musical notes floating in the air, and the eventual streamlining of these disparate creative clusters into music. As a writer, I am accustomed to viewing creation and creativity as being an entirely solitary process and it was fascinating to see this journey of creative collaboration. Yet, nonetheless, as I mentioned above, I still found it amusing that I found myself more thoroughly accessing and appreciating the music through a visual medium; for example, there is a lovely visual nugget in which Zeb and Swanand are writing lyrics, the visual juxtaposition of the Hindi and Urdu script. The performance and the song itself shot in the atmospheric Royal Opera House is arresting enough, its haunting notes long lingering with me...and yet, having been aware of how it was assembled, so to speak, made the journey even more beautiful.
Then, I happened to chance upon this:
Zeb and Haniya: Chal Diye
While the song is indescribably lovely, melange of the music and the incredible art, most likely, having taken inspiration from miniature art, was what made the song especially alive for me. Hearing the song, the words wing me elsewhere into a different space - and yet, as I see the song, I become aware of alternative interpretations and worlds it can belong to - and this multiplicity of interpretations is what makes this particular junction of visual and sound so exciting.
I guess, in the end, I am just a visual person, after all;)
Do you recollect a music video that particularly impacted your response to a particular song? It would be great to hear/see examples...!
