Tag Archives: Music

179: Currently Trippin’ On

29 Jun

So I found Katrina Kaif exercising to this song and I immediately asked my brother to Shazam it because I loved it at first hear.

Put this on class speakers and trust me it’s doubly sick!

I heard it on loop and then some more – which goes to say (without really saying it) that I love it.

Enjoy!

 

 

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131: Glorifying Busyness

11 May

has been one of those ideas my mind has toyed with for a long time now…you know, the kind of busyness that seldom allows room for anything else to show face even? that kind of preoccupation where there’s no scope for anything else. It was something I’d wished desperately for especially last year when I needed an anchor for myself and the straying frays of my mind. I have that today, thankfully. Except I’m left with time to really.do.nothing.else. when I’m in the throes of this busyness I so wanted. Not even the time to breathe, forget sit or drink water or even grab a bite.

Which sucks to be honest. There’s nothing more uncool than this feeling of running against time no matter how smartly you’ve tried to schedule your work.

I’ve been on this self-preservation drive for a while now. Nothing can or should or will come before those things in my life which need to take precedence over everything else – my health; my mental, emotional, and physical stability; my time; my relationships; my peace. It’s coming at a cost unfortunately; sometimes in the form of either staying back to tide my plate over or just losing some chunk of work or money, or both. It’s always about weighing those options against what you can and are willing to compromise and compensate with. Each of us have our own circumstances, our own journeys, our own experiences to help us draw these boundaries the way we do.

Back then I remember wanting this because the combined force of leaving home, adjusting to a new life and a new place, apart from the various hoard of responsibilities that came rushing my way, made me want to seek cover, an escape, something to find refuge in. Work has helped me find that solace. And now that I have it, it’s a balancing act of propelling this busyness with glorifying the simpler and more important things in life as well – in groundedness, in stillness, in quietude, in being able to clear my mind when I want to, in being able to live in the moment, in finding my zen and thriving in it, and allowing absolutely nobody else to encroach into my zone of zen.

It’s my own creation, my own discovery, my own salvation to attain in this glorification of busyness that’s gotten us all spinning past scooting days on a calendar, completely unaware of time, space, or even ourselves.

This is an effort, and one I’m working hard at. Or that’s what I’ve promised myself and the dark circles I’ve brought upon myself, among other things.

*clinks her glass full of iced tang at the one you’re sharing with her*

Here’s some music therapy along with some iced tang therapy for dark-circled men and women who need a minute to be still.

 

 

Peace and namaste to you.

121: Manic Mondays

1 May

As much as I wanted to avoid this cliche, it’s here and it’s alive. I’m too exhausted to sit, stand, speak, think, or even move. I felt my energy drain off me quite early in the day which could only mean one of these two things – that my body needed a good dose of carbs or that I’m falling sick. It’s a fatigue I can’t describe; one that makes me too tired to sleep. Whoddathunk this line of Coldplay’s song would actually play out in my life one day – when you feel so tired that you can’t sleee-eeeep, stuck in rever-err-erse. I’m really hoping for those lights though. I’ve never wanted them this bad.

 

I hope you’ve had a better Monday, dear reader. And I sincerely hope to get past this weird phase of ranting. Thanks for listening, though! :)

92: Dangerous Minds

2 Apr

…listen to Rihanna.

I watched Ellen Pompeo take on one of her tracks like a baws a couple of days back, and I’m hooked.

Here it is:

 

It makes me feel liberated, dangerous, and just more elevated. If there’s anything that’s uplifting in this state of mind, it’s this feeling of belonging, empathy, and complete power over one’s own self and being.

Fuck your white horse and a carriage

Bet you could never imagine

Never told you you could have it.

It’s as good as it gets.

86: Of Revisits

27 Mar

The drawback of this challenge is that I’m constantly looking for potential blog posts whenever and wherever. It sucks because I become that creepy blogger who sneaks up on every unaware moment and throws the spotlight on it; waiting to prey on it with my bloggers’ magnifying glass. Sometimes I allow myself to be this way, sometimes I let go and let the blogger in me curse myself. The former option gratifies the post-hungry me, the latter gratifies the moment-hungry me. What can I say, it’s a win-win, lose-lose situation depending on how you perceive it.

I will not stop to tell you about the nasty pizza that ruined the culmination of what was an otherwise gorgeous weekend. I will also not stop to give you the gory details of just what it did to me and still continues to bestow on me. *have mercy* However, I will stop to tell you about revisiting my early twenties which were dotted with visits to my favourite pub (which of course, and sadly, doesn’t exist in its erstwhile form anymore).

Come Saturday evening, once we’d dropped my MIL off and returned back (to a comfortingly dark) home thanks to Earth Hour, we sat down together in the shade of a lone lamp and the embrace of a playful Spring evening breeze to this and daru (needless to say).

 

It was just a matter of time before one track tumbled into the other as memories snowballed into a collective of magic and washed all over me. A refreshing wave of magic and all things carefree and bespoke of earlier times when we’d guffaw over mugs of chilled beer, that free bowl of popcorn we’d judiciously savour (because two small packs came with one pitcher and what if we wanted to drink more but wasted it all on measly popcorn?), psychedelic paintings and conversations that were obnoxiously loud to keep up with the pub’s din. Those tables were much too large and broad, as we’d lean over them, still seated on our floor cushions, pretending like we were indeed too cool for anything. Sometimes we’d sneak in a smoke break if someone was feeling adventurous or had the money for such thrilling indulgences that made us feel rebellious and grown up all at once.

The music’d grow louder as we’d immerse our fast numbing senses into its depths; free-falling into the trippy world of classic music and alcohol. Someone would then rope onto their dimming inhibitions and adventure past page one of the menu; beckoning the waiter for more eats and beer.

 

 

Guns N’ Roses would come on and we’d lose it like we’d always belonged. Soon even the strictest of us would be lured into staying back, hanging out for another half an hour tops (what futile timelines those were). If GNR was on, that only meant the best was yet to come. And so it would. I always remember waiting for this magic to spread its wings and take me on its joy ride.

 

Pink Floyd epitomized the pub experience for me. It really was the cherry on this marvellous cake that this budding sense of adulthood brought my way. I remember sinking back into my floor cushions, shutting my eyes as I let chilled beer travel down my body like gold that knew exactly which spot to hit, and allowing myself to be carried away by this one particular track. Be sure to turn this one up. Always. :)

So it was just natural to be teleported back to those days the moment this track came on. And this hit the spot.

“Lost in thought and lost in time

while the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted…

…While I pondered on this dangerous and irresistible pastime

I took a heavenly ride through our silence…”

82: Things I’m Listening To

23 Mar

When my ears aren’t ringing from the general pandemonium that unleashes once the final school bell rings, here are the earworms I actively soothe my ears with, to counter the insanity that I’m afloat in on a daily basis.

A track that’s a 100% Coldplay without even trying, along with timely breaks (literally) signature of The Chainsmokers.

 

Talking about The Chainsmokers, here’s a track of theirs I can still listen to endlessly especially when on a drive and with my shades down. Of course I meant to the grocers when I spoke about this so called “drive”. It works either way.

 

This one’s for when I’m in the process of unwinding but still feel like I’ve got some groove left in me to do a dance or two.

 

It’s been a while since I’ve devoted some time exclusively for music; a luxury that’s slipped away from my weekdays. However, there’s no balm which soothes like music does, and so it was just last weekend when I switched everything else off to immerse myself in the soul of music. I shared that here. That was a spectacular night of watching the flickering lights of aircrafts descending towards the airport interspersed with unflinching stars, in the company of my husband, our respective whiskies, and of course the joy ride that was Coke Studio Pakistan. Here’s an old gem I stumbled across that night as well. Do listen, it’s nothing short of amazing, as usual.

77: Pour Your Whiskey

18 Mar

and sink into the soul of this,

 

and this one, which hits the spot every single time.

 

 

Have a lovely Saturday. :)

30: All This And A Lot More

30 Jan

I’ve been so out of whack on the music scene off late, that whenever we do step out, my Shazam is more active than I am. I’d normally consider it rude behaviour (on my part) to have my phone out of my bag and active; but sometimes desperate situations call for desperate measures. Especially when you love a song, or cannot believe you’ve never heard this catchy track which the rest of the crowd is going gaga over, or when you’ve downright forgotten the name of a track you’ve heard before (the last point is a 100% me!). Of course I’m new on the Shazam bandwagon, and I don’t know where to look or hide my face, but what a lifesaver it has been. Many an itch has been curbed or soothed, courtesy this beautiful app. My Shazam list also has 83487234 songs, some of which, and much to my shock and horror, belong to times when I was a teenager and/or in college. Horrific, no? But this Shazam stitch will save me many a nine later on, I sincerely hope.

This ghastly realisation also makes me miss listening to the radio. Back when I was in Bangalore, my mornings were dedicated to Radio Indigo, and my drive back home was dedicated to Red FM (because it had aat gaane chipak ke – 8 tracks back-to-back, which made every single difference). Now it’s mostly Hindi music sprinkled into a Punjabi music playlist, which itself is sprinkled into a headache of ads and mindless banter, which is easily and entirely missable. Speaking of which, the other thing that is obvious but which I must state nonetheless is, that no Saturday night at a club/brewery is complete without Hindi/Punjabi music, even if its been playing English music all night. This show-stopper of sorts is what actually drives the crowd insane, along with of course, copious amounts of alcohol. The quirks of different cities, I tell you. The other scenes my eyes were witness to when we went partying over the weekend, make me feel like a 40-year old aunty who is still in shock. What this widening generation gap is going to do my nerves later on, only Mrs. Bennet (of Pride and Prejudice fame) will know. A was of course startled and taken aback by how a party of girls managed to change their outfits multiple times inside the club. Haha!

However, what took the cake on all counts, including feeling older, was that a lot of my Saturday was spent gardening. I’ve been toying with the idea of starting my garden for a long time now, but numerous factors ranging from domestic budgeting (starting a garden is quite an investment, and not really on top of a newbie’s domestic budget list, unless you have that kind of moneh of course) to travels to living in a rented space, among others, kept me from actually going ahead with it. Saturday was a pleasant surprise because all this actually happened, and there was no one happier than me. It’s been such a long time since I got my hands muddy and my fingers entangled in roots. Gardening calls for a genteelness of a different kind, which I ought to invoke more of in my life. Pots were planted, some were replanted, and rearranged for good measure. Of course I was so thrilled and engrossed in this entire activity that my aching back was oblivious to me. It made me feel both scared and ashamed of myself – how delicate have I become indeed? A couple of drinks and some good music later, said prickly horrible backache was forgotten as much dancing happened. I’ll leave what Sunday felt like, to your imagination.

Whilst I was nursing my back on Sunday, and thanks to the effects of the alcohol I’d consumed, my mind could only think of biryani. And while I was wallowing in the magic of biryani (I’ve finally found a place whose biryani I love!), I came across an article which made me want to actually go and watch Raees. A hungover A and I got ourselves to the theatre in time, and he yawned his way through it. Please don’t watch it unless you are an SRK fanatic. I’m only a fan, and I was very iffy about watching it on screen; except the article tricked me into making that final conversion. It’s much too long, and filled with too many songs. I’ve no idea why there was such a hoohaa about the actress who was selected all the way from our neighbouring country (we have plenty of incompetence here only), and I’ve no idea why there was so much noise in the movie overall; it could’ve definitely done shades better on the brevity front. What I did like however, was to see SRK break the stereotype, because he did, and it was a pleasant surprise to see. But both of us, and A more, couldn’t wait for the movie to end. Sigh.

What we did enjoy and complete our weekend with was last night’s nail-biting match, that we soothed with bowls of gur and dahi (yoghurt with palm sugar) which we shared and thoroughly relished.

From random plans to meeting friends, from drinks and partying (after ages!) to shopping and gardening, from being caught by the cops (for another time) to catching a flat tyre, from hangovers to hanging over Raees, from T20 weekend matches to cold cups of dahi; I’d say it was quite a weekend that needed some writing about. Hope you had a beautiful one yourself, dear reader. Cheers! :)

 

13: And This Day Has Finally Arrived…

13 Jan

…where I stare at the laptop and wonder what to write about. It was bound to happen and I’m surprised and shocked it didn’t happen earlier somehow… I want to write about just how cold the past few days have been, how I’m craving a good helping of khichdi because it’s so cold, and maybe even about an odd rant or two about the goings on in my life – but that’s so mundane and blasé, that even I wouldn’t want to actually write about it, forget read it. This Friday the 13th has done its job with respect to my writing plans. :P

Sankranti is here, and falls in line with this craving for moong dal I’ve been having for sometime now – you know, this steaming bowl of very light dal to just appease my senses and warm the insides of my being like nothing else possibly can, on these very cold days. There is nothing like the embrace of hot, perfectly cooked dal, and it’s one I can hold on to every single day, and for ever. So I’m thinking Sankranti calls for the mingling of these two cravings I’ve been having – moong dal and khichdi – to complete this harvest festival in true festive style with a bowl of pongal. Yum. It takes me back to the days at work when I’d treat myself to a helping of this delightful Tamil dish, sometimes even in the morning. I love the comfort, the hug, and the burst of pepper it springs my way. Love it. So that’s taken care of.

That apart, I don’t seem to have the head-space for much writing today.

What I do have space for, is this track which, according to me, was the best thing about ADHM. It’s finally on YouTube (the last time I checked, which was just after the watching the movie, it wasn’t there). Love it. The original is one of my all time favourites. Have a listen, and a very happy Friday, folks! :)

The Week So Far

16 Sep

Just like how most things are too good to be true, so was this 10-day stint with my maid who ever so randomly decided to leave and head back to her village. Packed with her 10-day fee and what I think was a fraction of reluctance (to make myself feel better), though overshadowed by her determination to be with her pregnant daughter-in-law (TMI, I know), she left. In these 10 days, she told me her story whilst halfheartedly sweeping her worries away with some of the dust her listless brooming caught. Once a farmer with land and a house to her name, she made her way to the city with no land and some money to help her son recover from an illness whose treatment apparently took all her land’s earnings away. But like most, if not all mothers, she was happier to see her son illness-free than armed with a few bigha of zameen. She’d never worked as a maid in anyone else’s house before, and so these past few days were filled with training her to clean my house. She picked up everything quickly, like most of us women do. Dulari was such a help even though she really sucked so bad at washing the dishes. Anyhoo. She has gone. And I’m back to doing the house work on my own. I won’t deny feeling gratified by my efforts – not that I’m great at housekeeping or highly motivated to keep up a sparkling job; but I also will not deny the effort it takes to keep a place the way you want it to be kept. After some very pumped up I can do this and I should do this because it is my space, I have decided to not genie clean the house every day. Just cannot able to. I cannot express how super grateful I am to have this absent from my list of obsessions.


Somewhere in the middle of all this humdrum and excitement and motivation which evaporated before I could wallow in it, I also seem to have made my back sore. I suspect it was carrying that evil, full bucket of water that did the trick. Back when I used to gym, I was one of those suckers whose favourite days were stretch days. Haha! I still love stretch time the most. It was then that I’d get an added hand to help me work on my back which really made all the difference. I have been craving a back massage ever since not just because it’s the most amazing feeling ever but because I can sense all that tension and knotting bundled together into what has become a rather sore and painful situation. It was just the other day when I was ruing over the years of strength training I’d received back in the day and how it feels like forever since I ran at consistently fast speeds and could lift 40 kilos or more on my shoulders. I’m thinking this is a sign to get my act together.


It has been three days since I began actively going for walks again. I can see the stark difference between then and now, and that’s the grief about breaking a routine. But I’m happy to have started and let’s see how this goes. Day 1 featured some amount of walking, a shoe bite, some leg exercises courtesy heightened motivation and excitement – endorphins!! Day 2 involved a much slower and shorter walk courtesy said shoe bite and the after effects of Day 1’s extra workout excitement. Day 2 also saw some impromptu beer and fries. Clearly I don’t need a designated cheat day. Day 3, which is today, had me wake up in a scramble because I couldn’t switch off my default AM alarm thanks to a software update. With a destroyed AM sleep, I decided to head out for a stroll and I promise mornings are just the best time of the day IF one wakes up to partake in its exclusivity. It takes what seems to be a strong will and perennial motivation; neither of which I really have a great reserve of.


Because I have been updating Instagram with these walk posts, Dr. Batra and his team has taken it upon them to start sending me messages and ads regarding weight loss, hair fall and wrinkled skin. Hahaha! I used to once advertise and target innocent people with ads…now karma seems to be getting back at me. Not only do these pieces of junk linger around unnecessarily even after being reported, but they seem to attack you with a newfound zeal if God forbid you even touch one of their ads by mistake. A list ranging from the world’s Pipa Bellas, Zivames – oh dear God, Zivame!, Dr. Batras and other what have yous, has invaded my space and now claims to be a part of my online activity record. The bane of these things is not lost upon me.


In other news, the music I once used to listen to, came right back to me ever since music has begun keeping me company the entire day. My picks used to almost always be minimally worded, calming and easy-flowing tracks which could help me ease into my early work mornings back in the day. Some of them I loved and still love are:

I love the pace and feel of this track, which somehow got lost and stashed away amid newer discoveries.

This one always, always, always made me feel cheerful, motivated and ready to take on the day when I’d cruise to work before 6am.

This piece of art was a joy and still is on my playlist; one that I turn to when I want to slow things down to a pace that feels both easy and promising. I love it. I hope you like them too, my dearest reader!

Hear them more for their melodies, than their words.

But because today is Friday, I’m on these two at the moment:

 

Have an upbeat Friday, friends!