Well . She . Is

Priyanka Chopra has to her credit her own international single now. Social networking sites had been fairly abuzz about it since its release. Today I finally gave it a hearing. Incidentally, I happened to read a few comments from people who'd heard it before I did. I shouldn't have.

The poor woman's attempt has undergone autopsy and biopsy all at once. The song has invited censure of a very severe nature. Some listeners have criticised her 'fake' accent. The song has an apparently stupid 'concept'. Autotuning is what makes her sound so American - and why did she try to sound American in the first place -  but the quality of her voice is not really anything to talk about. Technology is what has made the song whatever little it is. Compared to the US/ Brit pop singers, well, she is paltry. The song features Will.I.am, but he wasn't used well. Why does she pronounce certain words the way she does?

Priyanka Chopra can now take a bow. So many people have paid attention to the minutest details of her track. Who gets that kind of attention these days? And all the people who've had so much time to criticise the lady, get over your jealousy and go get a life! Take a break fellows. Just listen to it and let it be. If you don't like it, don't listen to it again. Even if it is shoddy, somebody definitely put in some effort and a lot of money into it. Everything in the world does not need to be dissected and criticised. There must be way better things in life to dedicate time to. The song per se may not be a lyrical wonder, but as far as I am concerned it gets a thumbs up.

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The Sound of Music

"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music ."

~

 Aldous Huxley

What is it in music that touches one in a way nothing else can? It spares nobody. From a martinet to a wonky hippie, everyone relates to some genre of music. Perhaps one of those rare forms of art that one can indulge in even without having any prior or specialised knowledge in the field. The connection is automatic and one never knows when and where it'll happen, let alone why. Music has the power of bringing people together - even though everyone may have a different interpretation of the same thing. The takeaways may differ but all of it is strung through a common thread.

Music will be your companion at all times, in any state of mind, at any time of the day (or night). You blend with it, and it embraces you as its own. Like that friend who needs no words to understand what you are feeling. No questions asked. No opinions thrust. And more often than not just the apt expression of your emotions. It just goes on and takes you along.

Peace!
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My Tryst with the Quadrupeds - Vol. IV : Bovine Beauty

Last Sunday, my classmates and I embarked upon a little tour of a village near my institute. This was part of our course work for Rural Marketing. We were required to spend a day with the village folk in order to catch a glimpse of their lifestyle. In the process, I met a lot of four legged fellows. But the one that took my heart away was a calf named Soni.

I have seen a number of cows, bulls and their calves in my life, and some from very close quarters, but never has any bovine offspring caught my attention the way this one did. He was not only the smallest calf that I had ever seen but also the most beautiful. As I continued to gaze at him, he turned 24 hours old.

Soni's mother was away, his father was working in the farm, and he was all by himself in the shed.  I wondered how he must be feeling? Just a day into this world and he was left all alone. He could stand on his feet and walk around right from the time he was born. Can we even imagine this in case of human babies? In retrospect, I wish I could read his thoughts. Did he miss his mother? What did he think of all the people around him? What did he understand of what was happening around? 

Going back, in the excitement of the moment I could not resist petting him.  He was so petite I could almost carry him in my arms, though I did not. He had fleece like fur, and was quite literally as white as snow with little brown spots; a lot like baby Bambi with the exact contrast colour combination. I had never before touched a cow or it's child. I had had my own apprehensions, and in the next few minutes those apprehensions were about to vanish in thin air. A little hesitantly, I stroked his back. He seemed scared initially, but calmed down after a few strokes. I too got comfortable, and cuddled him playfully. I had merrily forgotten that we were there with some work at hand and could have sat there all day. But that was not to be. With the indignation of a child I left the shed unwillingly.  I stroked his beautiful face one last time and went on.

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Meg-O-Land Madness

A movie called Rockstar had a ridiculous song in its album that went "Sheher mein hoon main tere..", meaning "I am in your city". Nothing ridiculous about the idea as such, but the composition in its entirety is. My rather wacko alter ego takes charge sometimes and makes me listen to this track - on loop! Why this random thought strikes me now is because in one particular late evening lecture (details withheld obviously!) I took a little walk on the path taken by the song writer of the afore ridiculed song and came up with an original ridiculous composition. I wouldn't dare to call it a poem.

At the blank white wall I am compelled to stare,

Not daunted by the professor's glare,

Given a choice I'd rather be elsewhere,

But you don't always get what you want so here I am in class, rocking on a chair.

The coffee I had has done me no good,

I was promised it'd ward off my sleep,

Yet I find my drowsiness digging in deep,

I suppress my yawn not wanting to be rude.

As the minutes pass my concentration continues to dwindle,

My eyelids hurt as though being pricked by a needle,

Why did Rowling invent the Bard called Beedle?

Now the only rhyming word I can think of is swindle!

One of those occasions when the sleep deprived me gets high on caffeine,
All senses beginning to drain.
My distractions definitely evident, as attentiveness I cannot feign,

And wouldn't care come storm or rain!

The wacko alter ego - break dancing now - tries to hi-5 me. I pass, with a straight face. Let's play JLo and Pitbull for consolation, we concur.

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