Lapses of lingy…

Had to read and review a Grisham novel in 24 hours…phew! Reading under pressure isn’t exactly the best way to devour a book,  but a novel experience nevertheless.

Had a funny experience today. An artist called in to invite my organisation to visit her painting exhibition. She was rather snooty, from Delhi and all.

Apparently, she was wants to “immortalise” a popular Bollywood icon, by capturing him on canvas. She has 18 paintings inspired by him.

When I enquired initially if she was an artist, she said, ” Yes, and a former Miss. India”.

That’s funny!

It’s like calling someone for a writing job and then also saying that you won a (very commercial)  Sony Superstar contest!

After that, she said, ” I was asked to call you by so-and-so. Can you tell me how you are going to cover my exhibition?”.

And I’m thinking, honey, maybe I don’t want to cover your little publicity stunt at all! Anyways, passed on the details of yet another wannabe to the right people.

Anyways, mum is urging me to write on issues that really matter like ragging. Maybe I will take heed of her suggestions and actually do something based on it.

The power of the mouse must be put to some altruistic use.

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The biggest stumbling block for any person is his or her own mental block.

Currently my mind is a mess of mental blocks and am not able to do a single thing. Bloody hell!

I keep telling myself, what is the worst that could happen  happen anyways?

I could lose my job.
I could lose some friends.
I could never lose my parents except by circumstances beyond my control.

And if I’m hit by a Tsunami, again that’s beyond my control.

So, these days I keep telling myself to have courage, be bold and be yourelf.

Right now I am very nervous about the events that shall unfold in the next few hours. I want them to be a success, but I have so much to do.

Am totally confused.

At times like this I feel that deep within me, there hides a helpless dyslexic.

Anyways, I was a little shocked by Parveen Babi’s death. I think she was one of the most attractive, bold women Bollywood has ever produced. The end was tragic just like Marilyn Monroe. Of course, the two were polls apart.

Marylin wanted fame and adulation, was a bit of bimbo and could do just about anything to get to the top.

On the other hand Babi wanted to live her life on her own terms, was passionate about living and was bold.

Unfortunately they were both schizophrenic and the end was rather lonely and tragic.

Sigh!

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Need to sleep, need to sleep, need to sleep…

Sleep has eluded me for the past couple of nights and my mind feels dull as ever.

I’m not worried or anxious or depressed. But I still can’t sleep.

Guess it has something to do with not being able to relax, an urbane syndrome that’s pretty common today.

Have to sleep, have to sleep, have to sleep…

Btw, last night got a dream that I found abandoned quadrupulets and decided to take them under my wing. It’s eerie cause not so long ago I had a dream about 3 angelic triplets who plunged to their death…actually it was a nightmare.

What is the significance of this? Or maybe there isn’t any.

But that does not help my case now does it???

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We Sang With Gay Abandon

I had the most liberating experience ever yesterday.

My jazz chorale group ‘Showboat’ sang for the nuptials of a friend.

We did the Kyrie & Agnus Dei ‘Gregorian chant’ style, the Proclamation ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’ style, My God & I Will Follow Him, ‘Sister Act’ style ( including dialogues, accents and solos), the Psalm, ‘negro spiritual’ style interjected by a cacaphony of dum de dums, ‘good gods’ and other such spontaneous babble, the ‘Peace’, a meloncholic ‘‘Simon & Garfunkel’ style. 

The response from the congregation was bountiful, exhilerating.

It hardly mattered, the singing made me ecstatic, wild with energy and exhuberance.

The elderly cried at the Kyrie. The young uns’ tapped to ‘I Will Follow Him’.

I think the vision of my conductor Alan was realized finally. It was to sing with soul, to proclaim the word of the lord with gay abandon and to honour the zenith of true love. And we did just that.

We were approached to sing at more weddings. But I don’t think we shall. We are an ‘experimental’ jazz choir. We cannot be sterotyped as a ‘wedding’ choir, but we would sing with joy, for a close friend.

It was the most wonderful experience. I have sung with a world class choir. But this experience was far superior, because my role was not merely that of a singer, but a performer. I could let go of all prudish restraint.

I have so much faith in the abilities of Alan my conductor. He has a vision, he has the courage to experiment, he has class and what’s more, he delves into the history of every song, so we know exactly how we are to treat and why me must sing it the way we are.

I once sang ’summertime’ in a husky, seductive voice. Now I cringe at the thought. The song is a lullaby which used to be sung tenderly by humungous black women to their sleeping babes, their style anything but husky. 

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We sat on the beach watching the sun rise  to a new morn and a new year…it was bliss…with the sounds of the waves, the gentle breeze and the sand beneath my feet… I have never seen a sunrise more goregeous, in the company of my best friends…

how did you welcome the new year?

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