Loss of a Brother

This is definitely one of the most painful posts I'm going to write on this blog. The reason? My cousin, Amarnath died suddenly at the age of 21 at a time when things looked ripe for him.

He was a Radio Jockey at Radio Mirchi Vizag before which he worked with SFM. Both his shows were local and never reached Hyderabad but every time I went there, I could sense the amount of excitement people had, to listen to his shows. They were a clear hit and he garnered praises within no time. Within 2 years he attained what could be called as a Mini-Celebrity status. Maybe not everyone knew his face, but everyone knew his voice.

But he wasn't just about 'RJ-ing'. He was something more than that. Right from his childhood, he was naturally attached to music. It came to his head and it flowed through his hands. During the years that he spent at Kirandul/Bacheli, I came to know of his great musical talents. He completed professional courses in Tabla and used to mostly spend his time with the Keyboard. At his age (same as mine), he was just genius. The timing, the sense of rhythm and tune, etc. were way to good for me to fathom. The way he used the 'Fingering' option with his left hand to add bass/rhythm to his right hand lead was just too awesome to put in words. His dad (another music junkie), set up an array of speakers creating a surround effect in the small Railway Quarter room in Bacheli. I used to love to go there just for the music and all that equipment. By then, he could play Keyboard, Tabla, Mandolin, Mouth Organ, and knew the basics of guitar. He was the perfect blend of Western with Indian Classical. One could say he was one of my first inspirations despite being a few months younger to me.

A few years later, I managed to catch some of the finer points of music and went to him loaded with a bunch of chords and theories. I first learnt the chords on Keyboard and then translated them onto a guitar for better understanding. And when I met him again, I noticed he was playing quite some exquisite chords. The same old technique, playing a melodious hit 'Bollywood/Tollywood' song's lead vocal tune with the right hand and backing it with rhythm/bass fingering and chords. And occasionally he would change the beat style with a nice fill-in and change the instrument too between verses. The overall effect it brought out was just the most soothing feeling on Earth. This time I could understand what he was doing with the buttons and pedals, but the other 'laymen' in the room were just stunned by his musical genius.

I asked him where he learnt all those chords. Because apparently he didn't seem to be learning from any book or teacher. He simply replied this,

"I hear the song and I play it."

"But what about those Chords that you're playing with your left hand? Where did you learn them?"

"I just play certain keys together because they sound good and in key".

"Did you know you were playing the famous Am-G-F sequence there?"

"Oh! It's called A minor? I didn't know that"

The last jam session I had with him. We had quite some fun that day..

That was him and his Musical Genius. Within no time he also got good with the guitar chords and started showing me some interesting strumming patterns that he 'discovered'. Every stage, he just blew away people. All his life, he just did that with no effort.

Even his Radio Jockeying skills were no less. His unique mix of clean-Hindi with the Filmy Telugu was an instant hit in Vizag where Hindi is almost non-existent. The people accepted him graciously and showered him with unending praise. Suddenly the name RJ Amar was larger than life, a resurrection of FM Radio, which was pretty boring until private companies started taking over. His fan clubs on Social Networking sites went gaga over him and he achieved in a short span of time, what many couldn't. He came like a flash of lightning and left the same way.

Where ever he was, there was laughter and fun. Just naturally humourous, he could make anyone laugh at any time. Playing with words was like a sport for him. Again his unique mix brought out the most unexpectedly funny humour.

He came, he made us laugh, he conquered everyone's hearts and he left.

A-mar itself means immortal. Maybe not physically, but his legacy definitely is. The few memories that I have of him will live on forever. May his 'Immortal' soul Rest in Peace.

Diwali 2009

16th to 18th October this year. One of the most awaited festivals of India. The brightest, and noisiest festival, the 'Festival of Lights', Diwali.

Twisted Tales from the past go so many thousands of years back that no body can confirm the truth anymore as to why this festival is celebrated. Is it because Rama returned to Ayodhya? Or because Lord Krishna killed Narakasura? Or because Jainism and Sikhism have special significance on this day? Who knows? Lets just settle with 'victory of good over evil' for now. But one thing's for sure, the whole of India goes berserk during this festival.

Other than the whitewashing of houses, distribution of sweets, lighting of lamps, performing poojas, etc., the most awaited 'spectacle' of day involves fireworks.

The nights are no longer dark nights. They are filled with lights and sounds creating breath-taking views across entire regions. Having celebrated this festival with much enthusiasm all through my life, I should have been bored with the regularities. But somehow the energy in the air is so addictive that it pulls you in like a magnet.

This year I was left 'handicapped' without a camera at my disposal. Over the last few years, I found great solace in capturing interesting photographs of fireworks in action, rather than contributing to the noise and air pollution. And the lack of a camera this year really sky-rocketed my frustration/anger levels. While the pollution levels around rose to crazy numbers, my brain was having an internal civil war with my body. Should I go out and have fun? Should I really? What could be a possible reason to celebrate? I had none. On the contrary, I had every reason to stay silent and subdued.

I happily chose not to involve myself in any buying, but did end up at the fireworks shop to satisfy the rest of my family. After all, why should they suffer for my weirdo behaviour? I also ended up holding a few sparklers and lighting a few fireworks to reflect the happiness on the others' faces. Like magic I was transformed. I became part of the celebration in no time. The happiness was infectious. Go ahead, have some fun. It's something you need desperately.

Letting myself loose was probably one of the best things I did this month and the satisfaction is something I hope would linger. But obviously it won't and it can't.

Diwali is about 'lighting your inner self'. Have I achieved that? Probably. Probably not. I can't make out the difference anymore. Am I happy? Am I sad? Or am I suspended somewhere in between? I can't answer that too. Which way is up? Which way is down? I can't tell.

Diwali has ended. Other than leaving behind lots of pollution, what has changed? Nothing. No 'inner light'. No light at all!

Maybe I must let things move on a little. Let things ease up a little. Probably I'll be able to pinpoint my location then and move the right direction.

Discover a problem, find a possible solution and wait.

I wait.

Still waiting... still knocking at Heaven's Door.

Whom are we fighting anyway?

I'm tired of the news. I should have been, a long time back, but somehow I held on. Now I can safely declare, I'm sick and tired. I always dream of being disconnected, cut off from the whole world. Every time I switch the TV on, "XYZ people killed in explosion", "ABC killed due to floods", "QRS killed in earthquake". And we just sit here and watch. What can a person sitting in the luxury of his living room do when thousands of miles away, another person has decided to blow up a building? Or when a sea or river decided to chat with villages? Can we do anything? Can the people present in that place do anything?

It does seem very unfair. Why should those people who never did anything wrong suffer? Sounds like a one-sided game. Unfortunately, it's no game. When forces decide to act, humans are but mere puppets. Whether the forces are of Nature or simply evil minds, it doesn't matter. But there's always a balancing act. We always played an active part in destroying Nature and it does fight back when there's too much to handle. And the wrong-doing humans do get their fair share of punishment. Maybe not before they successfully killed innocent humans, but somehow someday, they'll face it.

But why do we want balancing? Why should one happy event trigger a balancing tragic event? Sometimes I wish I were, what we call: God. I wish I had the power to detect and stop anything from going wrong. Like change the mind of the demented terrorist who's just hatching some maniacal plans. Or stop floods with my hands. Or stop volcanoes by plugging them. Or cure Lisa Ray from her Cancer...

Wish I could have the power to filter things, control things. Just with thoughts. But soon, I'll find out that there are just too many things going wrong everywhere. My mind would have a spate of thoughts running through. Probably driving me insane. Crazy. I would lose control, and grieve why I ever had such a power. I would suddenly wish I never had that power. I would have lived such a normal, human life without all that running through my head.

Thankfully, I don't have that power. I want to live that normal, human life. But the news never lets me. Everyday I open the paper and close my eyes, trying to spare a thought to all those who couldn't see the sun rise today. Once again, my head is over-loaded, bringing back the insanity that I tried to avoid.

Can't we do anything? Come out as a united Human-Force and make life simpler? We probably can't 'cause we don't even know who or what we are fighting. We are blinded and unarmed.

We have ceased living.

We just exist.

Jinxed Again!

Now this is getting pretty frustrating here. I'm no fan of 'cricket', but I did take a strong liking to the Twenty20 Format of the game and I've always been supporting the Deccan Chargers of Hyderabad for obvious reasons.

What's more? The stadium is at a walkable distance from my house! Though I haven't had any great interest to go there and watch, I've keenly followed the DC matches on television. Its hardly difficult to notice the pattern emerging with the DC team after watching 3 tournaments played.

The IPL-I turned out to be a choker for DC. The best team on paper, the worst team on the field. And they confirmed it by finishing last. They lost matches on their home ground, in front of their home crowd. Wow, so much for being a DC fan!

IPL-II lands in South Africa due to security reasons and DC makes Magic look as simple as parlour tricks! The rest of the teams were left groping in the darkness blindly after encountering the Gilly Storm. DC won it though there was an equal competition from RCB (2nd from bottom last year. How ironical!!)

Champions League T20! Come on!! IPL sounds so strangely familiar to EPL, that I was taken aback, quite literally. I didn't know sports copy sports even if it has to do with just naming. And now comes Champions League, just like the world famous UEFA Champions League. And the organisers admit having used a similar concept. Similar? Call it a mirror image! Big teams from India, big teams from around the world, all under one roof. "Hell of a competition", I thought. DC starts off with a loss. The venue? Hyderabad. Could they break the jinx at least in the next game? The final chance to stay alive? Conveniently, NO is the answer. The jinx stays alive, kicking DC out of the competition. The only Indian side to be knocked out. So much for being last seasons Champions huh? Great!

Yet, I would obviously continue to support DC. Winners or losers, home is home. DC is home. I used to wonder, how teams in the lower divisions of the EPL could manage huge crowds of fans when teams like ManU, Chelsea, Real, etc were grabbing fans from all over the world. Now I understand. It's not about supporting the best team. It's Home that matters. No matter how bad or how good, you'd stick to and protect your Home. And your Home will stick to and protect you. Pun or no pun, that's the truth.

A Matter of Honour

It was a pretty long time I last read a Jeffrey Archer novel. My last one was False Impression which impressed me like hell. The story-line, the pace and the way the whole thing went about, was just too good and I found it much better that the other novels, Prodigal Daughter, Sons of Fortune, etc that I read. But after False Impression, I suddenly forgot I knew how to read. I read almost nothing and to force the habit back in, I re-read what I already finished...

Once I brought the habit back in, I was flying. I did the Twilight series in a matter of days which I still repent because I had no other books to read. Thankfully, Dan Brown's latest, Lost Symbol came out and I finished it in a mad rush too. It was a good book, but somehow couldn't compare to the other Robert Langdon stories. I also found Deception Point to be better than Lost Symbol. So in the end, Lost Symbol came only 4th out of the 5.

After that it was another brief dull span when my sister suddenly borrowed Jeff Archer's, A Matter of Honour from her friend. I read the description on the back cover, and instantly flew at the book. I knew this would be thrilling to read. Scott the main character opens a letter that was passed on by his father, who in turn received it from his father. After translating the letter, which involves (SPOILER WARNING) a Russian Icon inside which a treaty is hidden that was proof to the buying of the 49th state of USA (Alaska) from Russia, a sudden chain of events completely change Scott's life. It starts with his new found love being killed and the story leaps from there. Suddenly he's escaping multiple groups from different countries. He doesn't know whom to trust and whom not to, and it comes to point where he even gets suspicious about his best friend. The escaping, chasing, brutality, and some soft moments with people who help him in his cause (right from musicians to teenagers to prostitutes), really set the kind of delicate balance needed in the whole story. In the end it was a great read and probably the best I read this year.

Funnily enough, this is one of his early books and it turned out to be my latest read. To make it even weirder, I didn't read 'Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less' yet which is his first! But of course, I will not procrastinate anymore. I'll soon be having that novel under my finished books list.

As of now, I'm letting my time fly with 'The False Impression'. Again. And I'm truly enjoying it. Again!

Head First into Water Again!

Its only been 3 days now, but I'm just overly obsessed with swimming. All day I just keep thinking about how to improve myself, comparing my yesterday's attempts with today's, looking out for some tips on the internet, watching video-lessons, and lots of stuff like that. Lets just say, I'm in a strange hurry to learn it, though I know very well that I have lots of time with me.

Today was particularly interesting. We were made to dive in from the edge to give ourselves a bit of thrust and we were to continue the momentum in a freestyle. While Chaky and me did make some progress, Raj tired himself out in the beginning and couldn't hold on to his strength for long. My breathing is still way out of sync with my mind/body and only by being able to control it, I would improve. I also noticed that I was practically scared to open my eyes in water, and probably should solve that with goggles. I have the feeling, my attempts will be more fruitful if I can see what I'm doing and where I'm heading. Sometimes, I ridiculously crash into another learner, causing panic in both.

End of another short post. Hopefully, I'll be back soon.

Head First into Water

Right from as far as my memory could go, my bony structure always faced crazy criticisms and advices to improve. I tried my hand at the gym but didn't like the atmosphere there and decided to quit inspite of many attempts to not giving up. Funnily, despite leaving my body without exercise and spending all day 'on the couch' watching TV or on the computer desk, I never managed to build up any kind of fat. Infact I hardly changed in about 4 years which is weird for a 21 year old. Though that's an okay in some ways, the lack of exercise simply made me so lethargic that I realised I was crossing my own tolerable limits of laziness.

Suddenly Chakradhar's brain performed its odd-time genius thinking and he suggested swimming. I felt like that was the thing missing in my life right now, like I was forgetting something and he mentioned it now. We flew into action and within a few days, we managed to get ourselves into a morning batch of learners.

Today was my first day and it was good fun. The coach just asked us to paddle holding the rods attached the the walls. After about 30 min of paddle-break-paddle-break pattern, we moved out. It was fun, and I think the biggest secret to learning to swim is to get rid of the fear and relaxing the body-tension. Infact Chakradhar (who once had an incident when he nearly drowned twice on the same day) suddenly attempted to swim a few meters and actually did it. It was a tad messy, but he did it on the first day itself. That was commendable stuff I thought.

One issue though is, we took this up at a time when the weather is starting to get cold. And the timing is early in the morning at 6. Hope we don't fall sick just because of our determination to move our bodies out of the bed. We did have some shivering in the first few minutes, unable to accept the cold. In a way, I thought it was a good thing we were going early in the morning. Once the sun rises, the water on the body evapourates more quickly, leading to more shivering and the temp difference inside and outside could be higher.

Anyway, that should be the end for now. If i do make any noticeable progress, I'll post again.