Pop music? Do fathers sing it? Or do they say 'pop' all the time?

Caution: Post ahead describes the life of an extreme noob when it comes to good music. Practice patience if you grew up on the other end of the rainbow! 

I sat amidst two friends two nights ago as they discussed rock bands and pop culture in India in the late 90s. I felt left out for most of the conversation and didn't have much to contribute. 

Fictional zoom to late 90s in my home..

D: Amma I want to go to this pop concert. May I?

A: Pop ah. Ethuku di chellam athelam? What do you get out of living an American life? We are in India. Let's stay grounded to this reality. Life isn't what those Americans live on your 'friends' tv show. There's a lot more to it... 

And she would go on and on and on

And btw when she said 'there's a lot more to life' she really meant 'there's a lot more culture to life'

Now mind you, this is a fictional zoom. Eventhough my mom has brought up the 'American life in friends' reference for anything remotely out of line - like ordering pizza. 

I as a kid until I was 13 did not know of a world of pop. I only knew Michael Jackson and thought that what he sang was called pop music, thanks to a particular uncle who loved listening to his CDs.

I am not sure which part of my childhood I owe thanks to (probably my mom), I grew up with a good overdose of Rahman, Kollywood and a rare influence of Bollywood. My family had no branches outside of Tamilnadu up until the late 90s. So that ruled out the possibility of bandha Bombay cousins and cool Calcutta second cousins who would influence my taste in music with exotic foreign elements. 

I grew up listening to Vijay and Ajith mouth Vairamuthu's Tamil lyrics. The source was radio stations that blared Tamil movie songs 24*7. That was my comfort zone. Then there was Shah Rukh Khan in Uyire - thanks to which I proudly know a few words of Hindi. That was the maximum I extended my music knowledge to. 

I know what you're thinking now. You're thinking I am one of those girls that attended every classical music recital in the 20km radius around my house dressed in a pattu paavadai. Sadly, you're wrong. The only classical music I knew was 'Igiri Nandhini' because we had to sing it in school prayers every Friday. 

Either this background or my own weird self is the reason for my inclination towards a non existent music life. Even to this day, I don't know the latest songs or what's on top 100 on billboard. I junk through spotify in search of some soul/blues/jazz when I am feeling smart. At other times, I settle for piano or guitar instrumental - because it soothes me. 

So that's it - that's the life of a music noob. 

Randomness apart, have a good week!

Is it too soon to give up?

For you one month is too soon, for him one year is too soon and for her one decade is too soon. 

When do you give up?

- when you feel let down

- when you don't grow

- when you only seem to be stuck

- when you stop learning

- when you stop innovating

- when you don't give it a 100% anymore

- when you get negative results

- when you get disapproved 

- when it's not morally right 

What about this then?

What about when you don't feel noticed at all?

What about when you are the nonchalance? 

What do you do at such testing times?

Do you fight back and say 'I will go forth' 'I will stay' 'I will do everything to move'?

Or do you give up? Do you accept defeat, learn a lesson, and still move on?

Where do you draw a line? 

| Chulbuli

SMS and delayed gratification

'1 message received'

Fluttering moments pass as I click the 'read' button. I wait in bated breath, under my sheets, as the Nokia takes it's own sweet time to reveal the '1 message received'. As I read the message, a part of my mind is drafting the reply. I click on 'reply' and type out the message. I re-write the message several times replacing the words, editing the punctuations to mask the shamefully overwhelming regard with unassuming nonchalance. Just to make sure the person does not over estimate my interest. I would wait more often than not, to reply at a time that is a sweet spot just in between too eager and disinterested.

This was a typical moment, a typical teenage moment in my life, 10 years ago.

This was delayed (sometimes on purpose) gratification. No, it wasn't about the boy I had a crush on. This was a reaction to pretty much any communication in the wonderful world of SMS.

The sender does not know if you received the message, the sender does not know if you read the message, the sender does not know if you are typing out a reply, the sender certainly does not know if you are editing that reply, and the sender most definitely does not know if you are waiting to send your reply. You can't send images, you need to use words to create the image. You can't send voice messages, you need to rely on punctuation. Excessive fullstops for a long pause. Several exclamation marks for excitement or disapproval.

After this episode replays back and forth, for about 15 times between the two people, it's time to say 'good night'. After sending that 'good night', I'd go back and click on the special messages - those that meant something more, the confusing messages - those that exercise my dilemma 'what could she possibly mean', the long messages - those that came in 4 parts and I had to wait till all were in my inbox to read them at one go, the one word messages - often the sweetest, the wise messages - those that were fit to be framed and hung in your living room.

And as I read through, without knowing when, I 'd fall asleep. 

What do you see?

A friend shared something on Facebook, something disturbing. It was a portrayal of fairytale princesses juxtaposed on the common issues faced by women. The artist has gone to the extremes of assuming everything that would go wrong after the fairytale ended and depicted her assumed reality in powerful images. It is an amazing tableau.

Take a look at the work here, and I have warned you. Even if you only know a tiny thing or two about them fairytales, it will disturb you.

I was so sad, going through these images; after having my fairytale endings shattered with pessimism. I had a lot of after thought - is this true? Would all this have really happened if the pages continued after the happily ever after?

Now, I understand that the artist wants to do this very consciously, that she wants to light up issues affecting women around the world through something that is very close to our hearts. In an interview she has even said that little girls being so obsessed with princesses inspired her to start this project.

However, I can't stop myself from thinking about the optimistic ending to these stories.

Snow White could have conquered family and career. We could have seen the struggle AND the victory (She could have hired a help to clean the house as well!)

Cinderella could be helping alcohol addicts revive their lives.

Rapunzel could have survived cancer, and shown us what she can do.

Red riding hood could be taking care of old people and helping them figure out happiness.

Maybe I am too optimistic for this world, and I can go on.


I just think there are two ways of looking at a cup - it's either half full or half empty!