View allAll Photos Tagged Dissonance
The sun set incidentally just behind the dome of Kasai Seaside Aquarium.
The entire park area is a reclaimed land, and the pond and the marshland are a man-made biotope attached to the aquarium. Ponds and streams in the biotope are managed by the aquarium to keep fish species.
A signage in the park writes the name of the aquarium is Tokyo Sea Life Park, which is not consistent with the name in Japanese (葛西臨海水族園). There might be a dissonance in management between Tokyo Prefecture and Edogawa City.
A passing moment of an old man in contemplation. This is an old shot from 2004 taken on Fuji Veliva slide film that I have dragged out of the archives. The visual dissonance between the squatting man and the empty chair speaks volumes to the modern day minimalism movement. Pashupatinath, Nepal.
www.robertdowniephotography.com
Love Life, Love Photography
Dolmens are strongly associated with the Neolithic and cromlechs with the bronze age, with the image of the chalcolithic buffering hundreds of years between. In truth there is some room for blur. The two smaller dolmens (on the mountain rise behind this outcrop) are situated aside a path that can riddle all the way to the Cromlech de Gurrundué, and are late examples of this megalithic form, with dates in approximate time with an early bronze age cromlech. The main dolmen of Tella (again behind these vivid outcrops) is a little bigger, but still from the very end of the Neolithic. The view from the cromlech and from Tella of the hidden peaks of the three sisters (Las Treserol) is a constant. I have linked images of the three dolmens and the cromlech below. I have also linked a close image of Las Treserol - a truly mythical mountain comparable and contrastable with, for example, Mt Kailash.
Prior to the Neolithic, most all people moved over a year, and replacing the sense of 'landscape' with an act - 'pilgrimage', is perhaps to be expected. 'Las Treserol' is in my opinion the easiest idea of a central peak to the whole Pyrenees mountain range. Its myth is of three sisters. Sisters marry away from the local clan, and in deeper times past, perhaps suffered from a dissonance of sense of place. 'Three sister' myths from mountain peaks that feed water, touch the sky and seem to have power over the elements might offer a greater focus without negating local family and clan stories. There are varieties of the story of the three sisters and with medieval and post medieval pressures one must imagine that these may have changed.
Rock art from a modified cave is also linked below - to illustrate a potential intermediate point for pilgrims. The same style of energetic star image is visible in a second carved space some 270km to the west. The second space did not become a hermitage and remains unclassified. The stars may be icons from a cult that existed in pre Christian ages. With the second site set back behind the Ebro and on a path north to the Atlantic, a cult of water with sparkles of the sun offering dances of 'stars' may be possible. Here the many 'suns' are reflections of the sun via water, with the rock capturing the ripple of the water surface. One sun, many sparking reflections like the twinkling of stars at night. One sun with a capacity to mosaic its influence in multiple ways. I look into ideas of pilgrimage around Tella in many associated posts.
AJM 21.12.21
God knows, I am dissonance
waiting to be swiftly pulled in to tune.
This song made this photo: www.youtube.com/watch?v=YJsF7sHpaPs
Unterwegs im nördlichen Mittelwesten entlang den Großen Seen. (4)
Roaming the upper Midwest along Lake Erie, Lake Michigan and Lake Superior. (4)
Rows of houses
Sound asleep
Only street lights
Notice me
I am desperate
If nothing else
In a holding pattern
To find myself
I talk in circles
I talk in circles
I watch for signals
For a clue
How to feel different
How to feel new
Like science fiction
Bending truth
No one can unring this bell
Unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new
God knows, I am dissonance
Waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune
I'll go anywhere you want
Anywhere you want
Anywhere you want me
I know the further I go
The harder I try, only keeps my eyes closed
And somehow I've fallen in love
With this middle ground at the cost of my soul
Yet I know, if I stepped aside
Released the controls, you would open my eyes
That somehow, all of this mess
Is just my attempt to know the worth of my life...
Without apology to Edvard Munch, who would understand. Life is just a bed of roses for some, cognitive dissonance for many, and mechanized horror for concentrated groups.
Wishing you ways to find peace.
28 Feb 2022; 10:30 CST; Velvia +; f/8
236;32;9
Yellow telephone booths in Vaduz look like another modern sculptures (you can see a lot of them in the city) and don't make a dissonance in a pretty calm music of these Alpine color combinations...
Please see much better view in large size.
The inevitable result of photographing frontal boundaries is getting soaked in the rain. Not something I relish, but also not something I run from. To me it's part of the storm experience. There's something very liberating standing outside in the rain. It defies natural human tendency to seek shelter, to remain dry. But once I get past the initial shock (and am already soaked), that urge diminishes. I figure I can't get any wetter, so the damage is really done. At that point I can turn my attention back to photography. The key is to keep the outer lens element dry. I use a lens hood for that and try to keep the lens pointed downward. Generally once water droplets form, it's game over. But sometimes the effect is magical as it was on this day. I was shooting in heavy rain as the sun began to emerge in front of me. The frame instantly filled with lens flares, miniature images of my f/6.7 aperture. But even more incredible was the formation of rainbow colors within the water droplets that had settled on the lens. None of this was apparent in my viewfinder, it was all a trick of the light inside (and outside) of the lens elements. No skill at all here really, except realizing the backlight might provide an interesting photo. Beyond that it was pretty much shooting blindly and hoping for the best, standing soaking wet in the middle of a cemetery.
one could say it’s nice to have a dog. but in the end, most walks are just about letting him empty his bowels. makes perfect sense. he has to. still, there’s this dissonance. the coat, the posture, the stride – all elegant, almost refined. the dog, small but proud. two silhouettes blending perfectly into the scene. and yet, one is just walking the other so he can take a dump. i find that funny.
borne. night. palma.
stark..
[cognitive dissonance]
©MadDreamer ©2👽22/All rights reserved. Do not use without written permission from photographer/artist.
It's a quiet day at home; housework and such like.
If you want a laugh, it's just taken me the best part of an hour to make the bed with my new linen. I was baffled not to be able to find the opening for the quilt cover. I was about to get my sewing kit out and open a seam ... and then I found some buttons.
The stripes run horizontally, not vertically, as I had expected. So confused. More signs of cognitive decline? Or just an example of aesthetic dissonance?
If you are also challenged by longitude and latitude, have a read of this. It's excellent:
Henderson's, West Toronto Railpath, Toronto ON 12 Sep 2020
A bit of Dylan Thomas with your patio beer.
Consonance and dissonance.
I the body would be sharing certain events cached in its data files.
I shall remove the text if anybody feels hurt, offended or humiliated by its contents.
Prakash Sathyan:
Prakash is the eldest son of the legendary Malayalam film actor Sathyan.
I met him first at Tharangini Studio (the music company owned by the great musician K.J.Yesudas). I used to visit Tharangini Studio for recordings and meet some artists, and it's there that I entered a studio console for the first time in my life. Prakash occupied the studio's front desk, and though nearly blind, he could easily recognize anyone from their voice.
Tharangini Studio was doing peak business those days, and Prakash was quite busy from early morning till evening. He lived alone in a room that is a portion of a house at Plamood in Trivandrum. Though much senior to me, within a short time, he considered me his best friend.
He had a fascination for colourful poster calendars, as he can see large pictures if held close to his face. I used to collect colourful posters from wherever possible and hand them over to him when I meet him.
His mother, Jessy Sathyan, stayed with his younger brother at his parental home in Manacaud, about 5 km away from where he stayed. As I had a vehicle, I visited the studio and took him to his mother whenever he wanted to meet her. By around 6 pm, he would say, " Anuj, it's 6, right?" and prepare to wind up his work and leave. On the way, we stop at Eastern bakery in East Fort, from where he buys cupcakes for his mother. After spending some time talking and having tea with her, we return, and I leave him back in his room. On the way back, seldom he asked my assistance to visit a tailor but has never sought my help to buy provisions, visit a barbershop or even consult a doctor.
We never talked about his late father, who is one of the greatest actors in Malayalam cinema. In fact, we never discussed movies as he probably might have rightly guessed that I'm not much fascinated with the topic. Yet, one day while talking about music, I mentioned certain marvellous pieces in movies that went unnoticed without receiving the attention they deserve. He grew curious and asked me to name one. I referred to the short song 'Mahal-thyagamey ' from an old Malayalam movie 'Snehaseema' (1954) and a few other songs. Snehaseema is a Malayalam movie based on a Malayalam novel retelling Alfred, Lord Tennyson's 'Enoch Arden'. The mentioned piece is depicted as a background song in melancholy by an empyreal disembodied voice glorifying sacrifice out of love. In astonishment, he asked how I know such old songs, which were released decades before I was born, and apologetically he admitted that he doesn't remember such a song even though it's from a hit movie with his father in the lead. All attentive, his face turned towards me, as his drooping eyelids looked like he's watching the floor; he asked, " Anuj, can you please sing it?". Usually, I never sing if people request me out of the blue, but I sang the first few lines in a soft voice, stopped, and asked him whether he can remember the song. He said, "No, please sing the full song". I sang with my eyes closed, and once over, I opened my eyes to see him weeping. As if I didn't notice it, I diverted the topic to something cheerful before I left his room.
My visits to the studio and our visit to meet his mother continued for a long time, but eventually, I often got busy with my studies, travel and many other activities that I couldn't meet Prakash as I used to. He called my number, and though I got the messages that he conveyed, I couldn't meet him in person for some time. He even left messages hinting at golden opportunities and breakthroughs for me.
On returning home after a long trip, I glanced through the day's newspaper, and right on the front page, I saw the headline, "Jessy Sathyan no more".
Few days after the funeral at LMS church, I visited Tharangini Studio inadvertently at about 6 pm to meet him. As he's always at the reception desk facing the entrance, visitors to the studio may think he's watching them. I approached him and, standing a few meters away, facing him, asked, " Do you remember this voice?". He mumbled, "Anuj", and following a pause, he asked, "Anuj, it's 6, right?" and extended his hand. Without uttering a word, he stood holding my hand. Often, a sigh speaks volumes. He released my hand with a sigh when someone interrupted. I left, promising him that we shall soon meet again. That didn't happen as I was too busy with my activities.
Prakash Sathyan died this day ( 15 April ) in 2014.
Mahal-thyagamey : Mahal-thyagamey
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© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
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________________________________________________
© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
All images are the property of Anuj Nair. Using these images without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000).All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed,posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.
Consonance and dissonance.
I the body would be sharing certain events cached in its data files.
I shall remove the text if anybody feels hurt, offended or humiliated by its contents.
Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This):
In my teens, pretty engaged with professional singing, I was eager to try anything that would help me improve.
It was indeed a challenge to stretch my vocal cords in a residential area, and so I decided to give it a try at the local beach. That didn't work, as I soon realised that it's absurd to sit somewhere at the beach and sing aloud. I even doubted that fishers and other visitors to the beach would drop coins near me if I dare try. Finally, I managed to find the right place. Yes, in a boat!
I started visiting the local boat club all alone, hire a rowing boat and row it in the backwaters, as far away as possible from the shore. It became a routine that I would reach the boat club by 3 pm and return by 5 pm.
Most often, I would be the only rower at the specified time slot. The audience consisted of cormorants, egrets, cranes, ducks and moorhens, and I believe I was not a trouble for them. Occasionally a train would vroom through the railway overbridge far above the lake.
The songs I used to scream/sing were ' Sweet Dreams ' and 'Missionary Man'. As my countertenor is close to Annie Lennox's contralto, I preferred singing those Eurythmics songs. Both of them have a punchy rhythm that perfectly goes along with the rowing tempo. In between, 'Let it Be' or 'Eight Days a Week' by The Beatles, 'Still Loving You' by Scorpions, 'Rosanna' by Toto or 'The House Of The Rising Sun' by The Animals, once a day. Occasionally, I 'tried' a few songs of Freddie Mercury and M.K.Thyagaraja Bhagavathar (mostly Amba Manam Kaninthu).
My rowing wont continued for several months till about the onset of the monsoon rains.
Being a daily visitor, the secretary of YMCA who is in charge of the boat club used to have friendly chats with me and once I revealed my honest intention to him, as he drew curious to know why I'm rowing all alone.
Those days, I have often seen a lady, probably in her late forties, at the boat club premises. Sari-clad and carrying a handbag, she had a charming, graceful face. I saw her eagerly observing my activities and watching me until I moved out of sight from the coast. Seldom when I return, I could see her waiting at the shore as if she's expecting someone.
One cloudy evening as I reached the boat club, as usual, I saw her sitting at the shore gazing at the lake. After signing the register at the office, I walked towards the boats, with the oars handed over to me from the office. On seeing me, she stood up and hesitantly approached me with a smile. Though she had her head covered with the palla of her purple sari, a sudden heavy breeze blew a wisp of her hair on to her forehead. Clearing her forehead and adjusting the drape, she asked," Son, where are you from?". When I introduced myself, she apologised for dawdling my time and politely asked me whether I can spare some time to lend an ear to her. I said it's all right, and she said, "Please come," and walked towards a large tree in the compound. We sat on the concrete around the tree seat, and straight away, she asked, "Son, you come here to sing, right?". While I smiled, she continued rather hastily, "Do you know the song 'Manjil Virinja Poove '? " I said, "Yes, I sing it", and I could see her face brighten. She said, " I don't want to waste your time." Pointing to a spot bit far from the shore, almost below the railway overbridge, she said," Many years back, a person dear to me drowned there. He loved this place, and he used to sing. Today is his birthday. Can you please do me a favour?". Perplexed, before I could answer, pointing to the spot that she showed earlier, she continued," When you reach that spot, can you please sing that song for him?. It was his favourite song." As I sat stupefied for a while, I even forgot what I am there for when she abruptly shook my shoulder and repeated the question. I said, "Don't worry, I'll do that", and I could see her soul through her tear-filled eyes. I got up and walked towards the boat as I saw her whimpering uncontrollably.
I know the song very well, and I often sing it, but I have never sung any song in such an exigent situation. Oblivious of what I am doing, I unfastened the boat and set off from the shore with involuntary movements. Even though I was far from the coast, I didn't sing my usual songs.
I could see the dark clouds looming, along with heavy winds.
In a soliloquy, I asked," Does Nature read one's mind?" and I turned to check whether she is watching me from the shore. No, she's not there. Perhaps she's communicating with her beloved, else crying her heart out. I nearly reached the place that she pointed to, and I sang the song in my sonority. Felt that my regular audience is more attentive than usual, felt everything around, and the whole eternity is listening keenly. As I stopped rowing, the vessel just drifted along the lake. Back to my senses, I took control of the boat and thought of returning.
I was pretty sure that she would be waiting underneath the tree, awaiting my return and was keen to inform her that I fulfilled her desire. Eager to see her smile, quickly I fastened the boat to the shore and hurriedly walked towards the tree. No, she was not there. It started drizzling when I came out of the office after handing over the oars. With the song still reverberating in my mind, I left the place as the drizzle turned to a downpour.
The next day, another sunny day, I reached the boat club as usual and set out with my routine exercise. I sang my songs aloud as always and returned by about 5 pm, as earlier. That day, I inquired about her to the secretary. He said she's a frequent visitor and usually keeps gazing at the lake for hours. Though not clear about the circumstances of the death of her lover, he's sure it's drowning, and it occurred rightly at the spot that she pointed. He said that she remained a spinster following the death of her beloved, and people say she's mad.
I continued my routine for a few more weeks, and I nevermore saw that lady again. Soon the monsoon showers followed, and my rowing and singing practice stopped forever. Later one day I visited the boat club and found a new secretary has taken charge. I walked towards the lake and found that the rowing boats have vanished. It was a sunny day, and the lake appeared to be smiling in glee.
Very soon, the sky turned dark and cloudy. A heavy wind blew away dead leaves and fallen flowers from the ground as I walked back humming 'Manjil Virinja Poove '.
"Sweet Dreams are made of this, Everybody's looking for something."
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Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This): Sweet Dreams
Manjil Virinja Poove: Manjil Virinja Poove
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© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
-------------------------------------------------------
________________________________________________
© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
All images are the property of Anuj Nair. Using these images without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000).All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed,posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.
Consonance and dissonance.
I the body would be sharing certain events cached in its data files.
I shall remove the text if anybody feels hurt, offended or humiliated by its contents.
M. K. Arjunan ( Arjunan Master)
One of the legends in the Malayalam filmdom, he has composed more than 500 songs for movies and more than 800 songs for dramas. Most of his compositions turned into hit songs.
I first met Arjunan Master in 1998 while recording my song 'Priya Ragam' in the studio run by his son Ani Arjun. A soft-spoken gentleman, he laughs loud and heartily, even for small jokes and quirky incidents. Without a doubt, he is the most humble senior musician I have ever met in my life. Despite knowing the faults in my work, without interfering, he encouraged me and just provided suggestions to help me improve.
Those days, he had the habit of placing chewing tobacco beneath his lower lip. He would occasionally move out to spit into the flowerpots kept at either side of the studio door. Once, while standing at the entrance, I saw a young musician doing the same. The next time when Arjunan Master came out to spit, I told him that youngsters admire him and so they are imitating him. After his hearty loud laugh, he went inside, and I accompanied him. There were only three people inside, and in all seriousness, addressing them, he said, "I have a bad habit, and I am stopping it. Those who imitate me have to do the same".
He has often narrated many incidents about his bitter experiences in the industry. Once, he mentioned that the director of a movie doubted his talent and suspected whether he's having the compositions done by somebody else. To validate it, he was provided with a room to compose the songs. After describing the required song situation, the director left, locking the room from outside. He didn't have food or even water, and yet, when the director turned up, he was ready with the compositions. Those songs later became big hits.
He composed the song 'Chembaka Thaikal ' in ghazal form without knowing what ghazal is. He had never heard a ghazal before when he made it, and yet his composition is so beautiful that it's one of my favourite songs.
I thought of him, prepared this text late at night yesterday, and woke up to hear that he passed away this morning.
Chembaka Thaikal : Chembaka Thaikal
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© 2019 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
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________________________________________________
© 2019 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
All images are the property of Anuj Nair. Using these images without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000).All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed,posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.
Consonance and dissonance.
I the body would be sharing certain events cached in its data files.
I shall remove the text if anybody feels hurt, offended or humiliated by its contents.
K.P. Udayabhanu:
Popular Malayalam playback singer and music director K.P.Udhayabhanu is one of the most humble musicians known to me. Had been fortunate enough to work with him for his 'Old is Gold' programs which introduced and provided opportunities for many budding singers to meet and sing along with him and other senior artists like P.Leela, Madhuri and C.O.Anto.
'Kili Chilachu', a film song composed by him, is one of my favourites since childhood.
Though he's very amiable, he is solemn during song rehearsals and had greed for perfection. Some naive newcomers mistook his serious demeanour as ego and used to gripe that he's conducting music shows to earn big money while not paying much for their work. They didn't know the modesty and magnanimity of this great artist. In 1965, he was at the height of his career when music director K.V.Job invited him to sing two songs for the movie 'Rosy'. The great singer K.J.Yesudas, then a novice, was assigned to sing one song. After recording his song, while Yesudas was biding his time playing cricket with a group of boys at a ground near the studio in Fort Kochi, he was asked to report back to the studio. When he reached the studio, he realised that K.P. Udhayabhanu, who is assigned to sing two songs, insisted that Yesudas should sing one of them. He believed Yesudas is the right person to sing that particular melody. The music director heeded his demand, and Udhayabhanu was happy and contended just with the other song, which is a duet. The song 'Alliyambal' offered to Yesudas later became a huge hit.
From the year 2000 onwards, I often met Bhanu sir at M.G.Road, right in front of the Government Secretariat or at the nearby Sivan's Studio entrance. Whenever I meet him there, it's always the same routine. He invites me for tea; we walk towards Hotel Arul Jyothi and has some small talk with tea. Once we leave the hotel, he inquires about a printing press in Ernakulam. He was pretty impressed with the printing quality of my album sleeves and posters and wished to contact them for some of his work. I provide him with the name, address and location of the printing press before we part. It happens precisely in the same order, the next time too. Finally, one day I told him that it's the umpteenth time that I'm telling him the address. He held my hand and said, "please come," and led me into a side road towards a parked sedan. His driver came running from nowhere, and Bhanu sir asked him to get him a notepad kept in the glovebox. He handed it over to me and asked me to note down the details. After writing the particulars, I said, "Sir, I won't give you these details if you ask me again", and we had a hearty laugh before we parted.
Unfortunately, my fortuitous quip came true. Afflicted with Parkinson's disease, he couldn't visit his favourite place anymore. Being away for a while, I lost touch with him, and when I returned, I didn't see him at the usual spots. Later, when I visited his residence, he was bedridden and couldn't even remember me. He breathed his last on 5 January 2014.
Kili Chilachu: Kili Chilachu
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© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
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________________________________________________
© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
All images are the property of Anuj Nair. Using these images without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000).All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed,posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.
Consonance and dissonance.
I the body would be sharing certain events cached in its data files.
I shall remove the text if anybody feels hurt, offended or humiliated by its contents.
Thunderbirds Babu:
Thunderbirds Babu is the brains and brawn of the first Popular music troupe, rather Ganamela troupe in Trivandrum. He named it Thunderbirds, and hence he came to be known as Thunderbirds Babu. His name is familiar to most senior musicians in Kerala. He preferred to render the old Hindi melodies of Kishore Kumar, Muhammed Rafi, Mukesh, Manna Dey and Saigal. But, more than his singing abilities, his acuity in introducing ingenious ideas and his efforts to implement them is what I admired the most.
It's a fact that most musicians are tender-hearted and Babuchettan, as I called him, is no exception. Despite being a humble, loving, poor soul, many people despised him for unknown reasons.
I realize that he lived at least 25 years ahead of his generation. Those jealous of him taunted him openly and in hiding. He often got blamed for others' mistakes, and the gentleman turned out a reprobate to many people who had only heard about him. Though I found him cheerful and lively, I have noticed that he often appeared lost in thoughts. I suspected his 'hyperactivity' to be his way of dealing with some problem or difficulties that occupied his mind, which probably kept bothering him.
I met him when he formed 'The Rubbish Orchestra'. Rubbish is the name suggested by the great Indian sculptor Kanayi Kunhiraman when we approached him seeking a name suggestion for a music troupe that sings Indian language songs and plays Western instrumental music. Without a second thought, he quipped, " Rubbish", and it got stuck. Being active and dynamic, Babuchettan had the knack to approach the right people the right way, so there was no shortage of programs.
I was one of the two tenderfoots in the team, and I met most of the senior artists of those days through Rubbish Orchestra. Being very elder to me, probably my father's age, he considered me a child and yet regarded me like all the other artists. Still, I have noticed that he was a bit careful and seldom reserved when communicating with me.
Once during a rehearsal break, when other artists left for refreshments and smoking, I asked him why he couldn't try 'Mere Naina Sawan Bhado', which is one of my favourites. With a mischievous look and a smile, he turned his head to gaze outside through the window. I thought he either ignored my question or got distracted by something when he suddenly started humming to set the correct pitch. He sang it beautifully without any accompaniment as I listened and watched in awe. Once over, I shook his hand, and he said that it was the first time he was singing it for a 'listener'. As he rendered it superbly, I requested that he add the song to his song list. He refused as he considered his rendition of that song not up to the mark.
'The Rubbish' slowly disbanded following an album release, on which some members of the band suffered substantial monetary losses. Being the production organizer, he was blamed for that too, and he slowly vanished from the scene. I thought he would soon rise like a Phoenix, but while travelling on a bus, somebody hurled a stone that hit his eye, and he lost vision in one eye. He stopped singing, and the bright, vivacious man lived a detached, secluded life consequently.
Later in life, when he badly needed someone's care, a lady less than half his age fell in love with him, and they started living together. Of course, he was ridiculed for that too. Eventually, he died without making headlines. Nobody cared.
Mere Naina Sawan Bhado: Mere Naina Sawan Bhado
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© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
-------------------------------------------------------
________________________________________________
© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
All images are the property of Anuj Nair. Using these images without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000).All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed,posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.
seen through glass, not quite real—an ordinary moment in palma becomes a silent echo of light, shadow, and memory. the woman’s stride, paused in reflection, floats between past and presence, framed by the architecture’s soft dissonance. a photograph that doesn't shout, but stays.seen through glass, not quite real—an ordinary moment in palma becomes a silent echo of light, shadow, and memory. the woman’s stride, paused in reflection, floats between past and presence, framed by the architecture’s soft dissonance. a photograph that doesn't shout, but stays.
For a long time, many people have been requesting me to pen down the experiences and noteworthy incidents in my life.
'I' the body would be sharing certain events cached in its data files.
I shall remove the text if anybody feels hurt, offended or humiliated by its contents.
Consonance and dissonance.
John (Baldie Uncle):
My father used to take me to the best store in town in my childhood, and standing right in front of the glass shelves that tidily display all those enticing toffees and chocolates, he would ask, "Which one do you want?". I would say "No, none, nothing", even if he repeatedly ask the same.
I didn't have toys and was not at all demanding. The shop owner used to remark that he had never seen such an 'undemanding', rather considerate child.
Those days I depended on the radio and an old HMV gramophone to listen to music.
One of my uncles ran an electronic goods shop just outside my school compound wall. The shop had a music section, an air-conditioned soundproof cabin stacked with LPs and SPs. I frequently visited the shop with my dad and used to linger around the 'Record Players' on display and the music room where the records are stacked. I knew the disappointing fact that it's not possible to play those 33rpm LPs and 45rpm SPs on my gramophone. So, the routine was to visit the music room, watch and listen to the latest releases, come outside, stick around the beautiful stereo and mono record players on display, and reluctantly leave along with my dad. All the way, I would be vehemently eulogizing the advantages and performance quality of those record players with a scant hope that he may ask me whether I want one. That never happened, and day by day, the strong desire kept growing till I could no more repress it.
As always, the child presented the subject to his mother but couldn't succeed in convincing her. Yet, he didn't give up hope and kept reminding her, day in and day out. The mithering took a new turn when the child learned the politics of applying sentiments. I whined that I have never demanded anything in my life, and yet the good boy is treated without mercy or solicitude. No, that didn't work too. Every day started with the image of those record players doing a slide show on my mind till I sleep at night. For a long time, though I wanted to learn music, my wish was ignored and denied because my parents thought it would affect my studies. In a trice, the child got a new idea. I told my mother that the constant thought of procuring a record player is interfering with my studies.
Woohoo! It worked! Father took me to the shop that day itself, and though I revealed my inclination for a stereo player, I got an HMV Fiesta Popular mono record player. Only after the purchase did I understand the coming problem. Those LPs are very expensive for me, but I didn't want to trouble my father anymore. So I planned to save money to buy disks. Anyway, my father was generous enough to let me choose an SP record of my liking, and I bought my first Vinyl record then itself. It's the single 'Summer Night City' by Abba, with a medley of "Pick a Bale of Cotton", "On Top of Old Smokey", and "Midnight Special" on side B.
This long introduction is necessary to introduce Mr John. He's the one who managed the music room of the mentioned shop. I found him to be a gentleman who spoke with the manners and mannerisms of a European valet, and he reminds me of Jeeves in the Wodehouse series and Nestor in Tintin comics. He used to call me Sunny.
After procuring the record player, I frequented the music room of the shop to check the latest releases and listen to some of them. Mr John was glad to introduce all the latest arrivals, and he was way too eager to play them till I leave. Occasionally, I would buy an SP record which cost around Rs.18 those days, which is quite a high amount for a kid. I often visited the shop on my return from school in my school uniform. As I knew many popular songs of those days and many old hits, Mr John was quite keen to discuss music. On many such visits, he told me that he knows most of the early Western dance styles and assured me that he would train me if I am interested. I told him that though I'm curious, I need permission from home, which is doubtful. He used to be extremely polite with my father, that he was shy or very anxious even to face my father, not to mention talk with him.
Anyway, when my dad visited the shop the next time, he gathered the courage to approach him and said, "Sunny has a good sense of music, and I understand that he's interested to learn classical Western dances. If you permit, I shall train him for free". That's what I heard from my father, and he also told me that he retorted, " What is the advantage that you think he could attain if it shouldn't be considered a waste of his time?"
Even being just a child, I had the freedom to move around freely, go to the theatres to watch movies, dine from outside and go for evening walks. With the subject already presented to my father, I decided to proceed as he did not object. I discussed the matter with one of my close friends, and he was thrilled with the idea of learning something new. So, I informed Mr John, and we fixed the following Sunday for the first visit and the class.
Mr John was the adopted child of an Anglo-Indian lady who lived in an elegant grand mansion with a beautiful garden at General Hospital Junction in Trivandrum. Remember the big gate and the topiaries leading to the patio of the beautiful bungalow in British colonial architecture. She lived alone in the old house, and he was provided accommodation at a separate home adjoining the property. He stayed alone in his house with his dogs Tresa and Charles. He says he served the Indian Army, and I have heard that he was a cook in the Army. Anyway, he had excellent culinary skills.
The sessions started with Foxtrot and Waltz, followed by the primary steps to sway, and later to Cha-cha, Jive, Rumba, Samba, Swing and Twist. Few girls from the neighbourhood joined us as it necessitates a partner to do most of the specified dance forms, and I grew accustomed to the smell of those colleen cosmetics. I came to know that Mr John is known more as Baldie uncle. Though I never addressed him with a name or any formal honorific address, we used to say 'Baldie uncle' when we talk of him elsewhere.
Baldie uncle used to organize a get-together of some Anglo-Indian families at his home, at least once a month, and he taught us the etiquettes of the ballroom. He solely used to make preparations for the occasion. He would polish the floor using Mansion wax and cook the food for the guests. Being a teetotaller, he didn't allow alcohol consumption or smoking inside his house and didn't invite those who can't give it a miss.
With his consent, I invited one of my friends who could strum the guitar at one such bash. He plays it quite well and has turned up number one in most competitions in which he had participated. I very much love the title music of the classic hit film 'Sholay' . I love it because, like a smile that hides pain, it has something hauntingly melancholic about it, concealed by the peppy rhythm. It's the clever use of an arcane style by the composer R.D.Burman, which I later assayed in my song 'Dad'. I often used to make my friend strum the rhythm of that piece while I sing "La la la" for the entire lead. We performed that number, and the people assembled appreciated it very much that they requested me to sing a few more songs. We were not prepared nor have done much practising, as I invited him to play just a couple of solo instrumental pieces. Since he knew the chords of 'Magic Is The Moonlight' by Cliff Richard and 'Norwegian Wood' by The Beatles, I sang them both, and the guests showered praises to encourage us. It was one of the guests, Mrs Rodricks, a beautiful, graceful lady, who suggested I take singing seriously. That's the first time I sang for a gathering and the reason for me to venture into the music field.
When I turned to music, I couldn't visit Baldie uncle as frequently as earlier, and gradually the visits stopped.
Many years later he died on a Christmas day.
Bésame Mucho was one of his favourite songs.
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Bésame Mucho: Bésame Mucho
Title music of Sholay: Title music of Sholay
Thanks Yatra Music Studio.
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© 2019 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
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________________________________________________
© 2019 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
All images are the property of Anuj Nair. Using these images without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000).All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed,posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.
Consonance and dissonance.
I the body would be sharing certain events cached in its data files.
I shall remove the text if anybody feels hurt, offended or humiliated by its contents.
When you sing you begin with Do-Re-Mi:
There are several entertainers that I have met or rather seen in the early stages of my life. As a household with numerous servants and helpers, there was one character even to chase away stray cats. His name is Bhaskaran, but he is called Pakkaran. With his threadlike moustache, whiskers and hairy pinnae, the child viewed him as a tomcat. Pakkaran himself took over the mentioned task, probably because of boredom or out of ailurophobia. In the late evening, he used to roam around the property to hit the poor cats that are peacefully napping. One day he took the child along to demonstrate his prowess, and the child didn't find it amusing.
Yet, the child noticed and admired the talent possessed by some of those servants and helpers. A boy named Prabhakaran was a good singer and an instant poet who created and recited limericks at ease.
In earlier days, there was a character called 'Hanuman Pandaram'. Dressed as a monkey, he once a while visits the palace and some significant households. Have heard that he visits shouting, "Are there any kids who do not listen to parents?", "Are there any kids who do not behave?". If children misbehave, parents threaten that they would call Hanuman Pandaram and hand them over to him. When the child was about two years old, he once saw a big monkey tail protruding out from a nearby gate while he was taken back home from somewhere. Those days, the servants, aides and the workers who serve the household used to address the child with a respectful title "Kochangunnu". On that occasion, he heard one of them shout, "Hide fast, Kochangunnu is coming", and glimpsed a figure with a big tail sneak inside the nearby gate. After a few years, once the child asked his mom about that big-tailed monkey, she wondered how he remembered something that happened when he was too young to memorise. I was not fortunate to see them again as that 'species' later went extinct.
I have watched lots of Kathakali performances, and the child loathed it. Often, he's taken to the periodic performance at Victoria Jubilee Town Hall, probably because he didn't reveal his disinterest. He would be carried on the shoulder by one of those aides to return home, as his dad is keen to watch the whole episode, and the child would be dozy by the time the show gets over.
There were some unique, entertaining visitors whom the child eagerly awaited. One of them is 'Bhagavathar', an entertainer who sings and dances. He acts as a jester too. He entertains the kids in the palace and visits us about once a month. His costume is a mix of traditional and Western. A khaki suit jacket above a white shirt on top and a white dhoti (thar mundu / anthareeyam) below had a tonsured head with a long tuft of hair left on top, folded and tied. He sang songs without any significant meaning and danced in a circular motion, as the kid watch, amused, with a smile. I only remember the line "Manjulangi kunjulangi" of the lyrics. After his performance, he's served lunch, the same food that we have at home. Following the lunch, like a vote of thanks speech, he showers praises on mom and equates her to Goddess Lakshmi (Goddess of Wealth and Beauty).
The other favourite visitor is an old lady. Probably an octogenarian; she's very fair and has snow-white hair. She was the music teacher at Satelmond Palace. I still don't know her real name as I called her 'Gunavati'. Gunavati means a lady with all goodness. Whenever she visits us, as a ritual before leaving, she too spends some time praising mom, and the child usually hears her repeatedly say 'Gunavati'. Initially, he assumed she's calling her Ganapati, the elephant-headed Hindu God. He thought, like Bhagavathar calling her Lakshmi, she's calling her Ganapati until it was cleared and explained by his mom. Gunavati used to cuddle the kid and sing songs meant for girls, so it's evident that her students in Satelmond were girls.
When he was two or three, he was taken to the movie theatres to watch rereleased great old classic movies like 'The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins, Samson and Delilah, and African Safari'. That duty assigned to one of his uncles, who was then in his teens. The very next day after watching 'The Sound of Music' for the first time (I have watched it three more times later), as the child was sitting under a table at home humming 'Do-Re-Mi ', he saw his dad with an amused smile, gesturing to mom to listen.
Once in a while, dad takes the child to the British Library. The child loved the smell of those new books and calmly watched his dad choose the right books, like Super Duck, Plastic Man and Pinocchio. Later, the stories are read aloud by his dad, and the child eagerly peeks at the illustrations in the book and pictures them in his imagination.
There's a large wooden chest at home to store rice and provisions, which also acts as a seat and platform. When the child was four years old, he was made to stand on it one day and dressed in new outfits. Then, both parents happily announced that it would be his first day at school.
At the nursery of Holy Angels Convent, the child found the liveliness interesting but got irritated with those weeping and wailing kids around. The doors, windows and the lower half of the white-washed walls were painted in deep green enamel. The place had a mingled smell of milk, plastic, lacquer and fresh paint. There were brightly coloured cubes and cones, colourfully lacquered rings of different diameters, rocking toy horses and duck boxes, a sandbox with small red pails and spades, and many other toys. Everything fascinated the child, but like at home, he found a window at a corner as his favourite place. It faced a granite wall a few feet away, with a view of some greenery of moss and weeds. More than the toys, he was more interested in watching the ladybirds in the moss-laden wall and the bugs, beetles and butterflies in the plants below. After tasting a strip of peeled green paint from the window, the child was busy till noon, observing the 'wildlife' outside.
He was taken home at lunch break. As in the morning, his beaming parents lifted him to stand on the storage chest and asked him whether he liked the place and want to go there again. He said "Yes" and saw them elated at the reply. But, for the poor kid, his experience at the place was utterly disappointing in the afternoon. All the kids were made to lie down on the floor, on straw mats, and compelled to sleep. Sister Atlee was in charge, and she held a wooden ruler in her hand with which she would tap if anybody raises their head. Sister Atlee looks very much like Oliver Hardy in nun's attire. From the ground zero perspective, the child could see her towering figure holding the ruler in her right hand, like a music conductor with a baton, waving both hands and loudly singing, "Rain, rain go away, little Johnny wants to play".
Exasperated, the child slept quietly in soliloquy singing, Sister Atlee go away; this little kid doesn't want to kip.
The Sound of Music : Do-Re-Mi
Now, please don't miss this: The Sound of a Pandemic .
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© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
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________________________________________________
© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
All images are the property of Anuj Nair. Using these images without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000).All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed,posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.
Consonance and dissonance.
I the body would be sharing certain events cached in its data files.
I shall remove the text if anybody feels hurt, offended or humiliated by its contents.
Suresh Pattali:
Suresh Pattali, a film and theatre activist, or as Paul Zacharia, the Editor of Economic Times and his former colleague rightly stated," a film buff and libertarian"; worked as a producer in Asianet when I met him.
Suresh assisted the renowned Indian filmmaker Muzaffar Ali in making classic movies like 'Gaman' and 'Umrao Jaan' and has worked with noted singer Kishore Kumar and Popular music director Salil Choudhury. He was too humble a human being to read one's character and get close within no time.
I met him first, in 2000, at his office in the Asianet Studio complex at Puliyarakonam in Trivandrum. He was very eager to listen to my album 'Simple Truth' and knew it was in the final stage of completion. He was too busy in the studio that I waited from 4 pm to about 6 pm as he occasionally makes an appearance and apologizes for making me wait and leaves after making sure that I am comfortable. Someone would want him when he joins me, and as I was not in any hurry, I asked him to take his time. When he hastily joined me at about 6 pm, I told him that I have a rough copy of 'Simple Truth' in my car. The moment he heard that he just walked out of the studio with his hand on my shoulder. He sat beside me in the car, we closed the doors, and I played the tape.
Before the music started, he asked, "What about a ride?". I nodded, and we drove out to the nearly desolate roads in the suburbs of Trivandrum. When the music started, I noticed that he is gazing at my face. With a smile, when I turned and looked at him, he asked," You did this ?". I said "Yes", and his astonished expression is the first and best compliment I ever received. I drove aimlessly while he keenly and mutely listened to all the 12 songs in the album. Later I dropped him at his house, which is just about a kilometre away from his workplace.
The very next day, I received a call from him inviting me to his house, and I visited him sometime in the afternoon. His interest in music and his memory amazed me as he started describing how he visualized one of the songs that he heard the previous day. It was late afternoon, and he was yet to have his lunch. I understood he's drunk, but he appeared perfect and very much in his senses. I told him that I would wait until he has his lunch. Within a few minutes, he returned with an egg omelette for me. I didn't refuse as I knew he prepared it just for me. It was too salty to consume, and when I was struggling with it, he joined me munching his omelette and said, "Too much salt, right? I don't have any more eggs left, else I would have made fresh ones". After spending some time discussing the script, I left following his assurance to contact me soon. The next day he called me for further talks, and we fixed a local club for the next meeting the same evening.
He ordered a few drinks and narrated his Mumbai cinema experiences. The modesty of the Popular singer Kishore Kumar, the friendliness of the great musician Salil Chowdhury, and the simplicity of the renowned actress Smita Patil. The humbleness of Kishore Kumar during recordings and the prowess of Salil Chowdhury to compose 'boatman' songs.
He respected and appreciated me for being a teetotaller, and never did he behave drunk with me. I reminded him that it's getting too late and offered to drop him at his house. On the way back, he asked, "Anuj, which is your most favourite song? ". I replied that it's a tough question as I have so many favourites." My favourite English song is, 'Still I'm Sad' by Boney M", he said. After a pause, he continued, "Do you know ' Chingari Koi Bhadke '?". I said, "Yes, I love that song." He asked, "Can you sing it ? "and I replied, " Sorry, I have never tried it". Again after a pause, he said, "Please hum it ". I hummed the tune in its original pitch, and he started singing along in a feeble voice. I drove listening to his rendition, which was indeed beautiful. He remained quiet after that, and I dropped him home at about midnight.
Within a few days, he invited me to judge a talent search programme conducted by Asianet for college students, named 'Talent Scan 2000'. I accepted the request and appeared for the programme at Victoria Jubilee Town Hall on the stipulated date and time. He introduced me to the crew, and my role was to judge Western Music. After the programme, he thanked me and promised to be in touch.
He called me after a few days and asked me whether we shall meet sometime in the evening. I agreed, and he said he would call later to fix the venue and time. He called again in the evening to tell me that he's having one of his old friends along with him and asked whether it's fine with me. I said it's all right, and I invited him to one of the most prestigious clubs in town, where I have a membership. I booked a table on the lawn and waited for him.
He had few drinks like earlier, but his friend started gulping like a thirsty cow, loudly declared that he's a Maoist, and proudly started to swank his profanity proficiency. While Suresh commanded him to behave, in an attempt to move his chair backwards, the dhoti-clad Maoist fell aback bare, along with his chair. The waiters on duty are used to such displays, but they appeared shocked as they never expected such guests with me. I asked Suresh whether we shall leave. I have never seen him angry, and he didn't lose his cool even when his friend irritated him. He said we would move, but his friend refused to come. I thought of seeking help from the waiters and security to carry him to the car.
Finally, he agreed to move when Suresh 'promised' to take him to some distinct wine bar.
I was a bit apprehensive whether he would attempt to jump out of the moving car as we proceeded towards the hotel where he stays. Once we reached the hotel, he refused to get off the car. Suresh somehow managed to pull him out, and on the street, he loudly started to demonstrate his imprecation skills. I saw Suresh with a grim face for the first time, but still, he didn't lose his cool. Swiftly, he hopped into the car and signalled me to accelerate fast. I did that, and his friend was staggering from behind, trying to chase us as we sped away. Suresh didn't utter a word after that. I dropped him home, and though he didn't apologize, I could see that apologetic look in his weary eyes when he bid me goodbye.
I phoned him early in the morning to check whether his friend is all right. He told me that his friend was nabbed by the police the previous night, and he has to get him released.
I asked him to relax and promised to call him in the evening.
I called him in the evening, and an unfamiliar voice picked up the call.
I asked, " Suresh, Is that you? ".
The stranger from the other end replied, " Suresh passed away. He vomited blood, and we took him to the hospital but couldn't save him".
"माझी जो नाव डुबोए
उसे कौन बचाये"
("If the boatman drowns the boat, who can save it ?")
Chingari Koi Bhadke: Chingari Koi Bhadke
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© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
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________________________________________________
© 2020 Anuj Nair. All rights reserved.
All images are the property of Anuj Nair. Using these images without permission is in violation of international copyright laws (633/41 DPR19/78-Disg 154/97-L.248/2000).All materials may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, republished, downloaded, displayed,posted or transmitted in any forms or by any means,including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording without written permission of Anuj Nair. Every violation will be pursued penally.
After several months of political dissonance culminating in a week of unbelievably reckless rhetoric and unfathomable lawlessness I present you with a peaceful and contemplative bear. What I would do to be able to kneel with them on the beach, share a breath of ocean air, and revel in the restorative reconciliation that nature provides.
Россия, Ленинградская область.
Деревня Родионово.
В деревне Родионово расположены два священных храма. Третий по древности на Руси Георгиевский храм (1493 г.) и Храм сретения Господня, построенный в 1864 году.
Испытываешь сильный диссонанс глядя на старинную Георгиевскую церковь и на современный новодельный на вид храм. А виной всему – рыжий сайдинг, которым церковь была обшита в середине 2000-х годов. Благодаря такой «горе-реставрации» мы потеряли исторический облик храма, а вместе с этим и частицу нашей истории.
Russia, Leningrad region.
The village of Rodionovo.
There are two sacred temples in the village of Rodionovo. The third oldest church in Russia is St. George's Church (1493) and the Church of the Presentation of the Lord, built in 1864.
You experience a strong dissonance looking at the old St. George's Church and the modern, newly-made-looking temple. And the reason for everything is the ginger siding with which the church was sheathed in the mid–2000s. Thanks to such a "mou restoration", we have lost the historical appearance of the temple, and with it a piece of our history.