Hamaare faaslon ki misaal zameen-o-aasmaan kyon ho?
Dilon ke darmiyan mulk unke darmiyan sarhadein kyon ho?

Behr-e-hayaat se uthi waqt ki leher ke sab humsafar
Phir hum adna se katron mein koi zer to koi zabar kyon ho?

Zaat-o-zubaan-o-mulk, deen-o-mazhab-o-maseeha
Yeh gunaah hain hamaare to inki wajeh Khudaa kyon ho?

Khaak se khaak tak ka safar raha azal se hoga abad tak
Apne matla-o-maqta ek phir baaqi Ghazal beradeef kyon ho?

Kuch kacche Khwaab palkon ke mehmaan hue
Yeh raat mein gar saje.n to din ko aankhon mein chubhte hain

Jinke soz se is zulmat kade mein roshni hoti thi
Waqt ki taariki mein yeh ummeed ke shamme bhi bujhte hain

Jab bhi gul ki baat chide, bahaaron ki baat chale
Ahl-e-naadaan-e-bazm sehra ki Khamoshi ka sabab puchte hain

Sadiyaan beetii, na beeta woh ek pal
Mehmaan tha bas pal ka, bane maraasim sadiyon ke

Hairaan na ho beher, gar bujhe pyaas tujhse
Barson piye ahl-e-talab ne, jaam-e-nihaan ashqon ke

Siyaahi bana humsafar, maujuudgi iski har su
Saayaa bankar wafaa kare, gar hon silsile ujaalon ke

Khamoshi bhi ek aawaaz hai
Bezubaan dil ka soona saaz hai Khamoshi

Hayaat ke is lambe safar mein
Afsurda lamhon ki daastaan hai Khamoshi

Dilon ke guzre karavon ke piiche
Aankhon mein chubhta Gubaar hai Khamoshi

Gaharaaiyyon ka pataa detii hui
Gehre zaKhmon ka nishaan hai Khamoshi

Har rang mein jale shama ke
Seher pe dhuaan hone ka rang hai Khamoshi

Chaand Khamosh, sitaare Khamosh,
Sehra Khamosh aur Khamosh hum
Sadiyon ki gardish ka silaa hai Khamoshi

I think Chopin’s E minor Prelude will be a perfect musical accompaniment to these thoughts on silence. What I love about this piece is the definitive air of inevitability that it acquires towards the end which makes it hard not to sense that something’s dying (as indeed the music itself dies down in the last few chords). Chopin himself used to often perform this piece and, fittingly enough, it was played at his funeral.

Here’s my favorite version of it by Sviatoslav Richter:

I’m currently learning this piece myself and will, hopefully, make a recording once I feel comfortable.

And here’s an equally emotive but “inspired” version composed by Jaikishan and sung by Mohammad Rafi.

The compositions are in the Harmonic Minor scale (raaga Kirwani in the Indian musical system).

In June of last year, I made my first trip to Bonnaroo, which was held at Manchester, Tennessee. Then in September, I made my first trip to The Burning Man at the Black Rock Desert in Nevada. Both turned out to be very interesting experiences, far removed as they were from everything one gets to see while being part of the mainstream in a place like the Bay Area. The things that stood out for me at these events were the sheer creativity, imaginativeness and an all round sense of tolerance and inclusiveness among those that showed up. For the curious, The Burning Man Image Gallery has a very good collection of photographs taken by various people over the years. I’d love to go back to Bonnaroo and The Burning Man some time.

In November, I took time off from work to spend a week by myself in the Santa Barbara wine country. I stayed in Solvang, a small Danish town north of Santa Barbara. Looking back, I realize that a week of vacation is a long time if you don’t plan ahead, paradoxical as it may sound. I hadn’t even made a hotel reservation, literally “stopping by” with only my Casio Keyboard and enough clothes to last a week.

It was refreshing to befriend the locals and discover from them which places to go to or which wineries to visit; often, they even accompanied me to show me around. I was surprised to discover that Solvang was at the heart of the Wild West, evident in the way some restaurants and pubs still display the cowboy culture. Coexisting with the ranches and the horses, though, are some of the finest wineries in all of California. My taste in wine has gone up a couple of notches after tasting the wines of the Santa Ynez Valley and the adjoining areas. While there, I also visited Los Olivos, a charming community north of Solvang, renowned as much for its art galleries as for its wineries. I don’t have the kind of money to afford most of what was on sale but I bought what was within my means and merely appreciated the rest.

My poor prose cannot capture most of what I experienced (as couldn’t my camera either), so I’ll be content with just saying that the trip would always remain memorable to me in more than a few ways.

Then in late November last year, I auditioned for CAPMT, the California Association of Professional Music Teachers, and passed, following which I was invited to play at the Northern Festival recital in Danville this January. I played Bach’s Prelude in C Minor.

During this time I’ve also been composing a little bit, and although I’ve written down some of it, I haven’t recorded anything yet. I’m currently preparing for my piano evaluations due in May. Later in June, it will be two years since I began taking lessons and I’m quite happy that I’ve already started playing Level 6 solos. But I can’t wait to get to Beethoven, Chopin, Debussy and more of Bach in the coming years, and composing more of my own stuff.

And on that note, I’d like to sign off. A much belated Happy New Year to everyone!

Coming back to this particular piece, I’ve attempted to write it as a two section mix of musical phrases. The first section plays both the treble and bass clefs in the higher registers, which combined with its mildly rubato tempo makes it sound somewhat stark, and is evocative of a cold and rainy (even snowy, perhaps?) afternoon! The mildly gloomy air is then broken with the arrival of the second section which brings with it a warmth of expression (probably because it is played in the lower registers) that seems comparable to the sun fortuitously piercing the afternoon gloom, thereby mitigating it! 

That is how the piece ends, somewhat sooner than I’d have liked, in hindsight. My creative inspiration permitting, I might expand upon some of the ideas later!

A few repeated listenings (mp3 here) would hopefully allow the Dorian charm to grow on the listener and sedate her!

I apologize for the less than good recording quality, which I think is a combination of my old rental Hudson piano and my own lack of recording expertise! I’m also terribly slow when it comes to actually writing down my music. I’ll try to post the music sheet for this one as soon as possible!

And yet, despite what sensitivity means to me (and no doubt to millions of others), after close to two days of horrifically insane events in Bombay (or Mumbai as some might insist), this treasured capacity to demonstrate empathy (or even sympathy if empathy seems too much of an ask at times) seems like such a long lost virtue!

Starting with the attack itself, which is as incomprehensible as it seems heartless, sensitivity seems to have a died a slow and painful collective death at the hands of expedient political leaders, who seem ever more eager to exploit any situation toward a personal end, and the opportunistic mainstream media, whose sole aim seems to be shameless self-promotion, at the expense of journalistic ethics, in the race for an even bigger slice of the national viewership.

In this moment, when articulation fails me, I wish to defer to those whom it doesn’t. Here’s Sambit Bal on the subject.

Here’s a quote by Barack Obama (picked from the above article) that succinctly sums up my state of mind (and perhaps those of many others):

My powers of empathy, my ability to reach into another’s heart, cannot penetrate the blank stares of those who would murder innocents with such serene satisfaction.

Then there’s Carl Sagan, the perennial perspective-giver (to whoever seems even the least willing), on the pale blue dot that is our Earth. Such a lesson in humility!

And finally, here’s an old couplet by Rana Sahri:

barson main tere naam pe khata raha fareb

mere Khuda kahaan hai tu, apna pata to de!

Any other way to attempt to justify or rationalize the events of the past two days would only amount to the grossest form of debasing of this wonderful (but, sadly, endangered) gift of sensitivity given to us by the Gods!

Today was one such day for me! Having spent the morning enjoying an almost perfect cup of cappuccino at Cafe Del Doge in downtown Palo Alto, and later working on my next week’s Piano assignment, I ended up going to the beach on Highway 1 in Santa Cruz. Although my intention was to soak in the beautiful sunset, it turned out to be extremely foggy there. Fortunately, though, I came across this very nice part of the coast that was set in the midst of a hilly region — one had to actually walk down a trail to get to the beach. Once down there, the fog actually seemed to elevate the place and time to an unusually surreal degree; and so, it turned out to be a very enjoyable and carefree couple of hours! On the way back, my friend suggested we eat at Castro in downtown Mountain View. There, we discovered this really nice Italian place called Pasta?, and I’ve to admit, the food there was surprisingly good! So much so, it makes me want to go back there more often to explore their other offerings.

There, I also tried, for the first time, a 2006 Malbec from the Mendoza region of Argentina. I found it very impressive — it was medium bodied, had a juicy flavor and left a mildly tannic aftertaste. I’m nowhere near to being an oenophile, so that is as far as I can go in terms of describing it. But it was one of those wines that you know you’re going to remember for a long time and not lose an opportunity to recommend to friends and random strangers alike. After researching a little bit, I found, among other things about it, that it is named after a Hungarian peasant who introduced it to France; that Argentina is currently the chief exporter of wine of this varietal; and that it is commonly used, along with Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon, in preparing the exquisite and elegant Bordeaux blend. I want to recommend this excellent wine to everyone and am waiting to taste more of it myself the next time I get a chance to do so!

I think this has been one of my longer posts! Time to call it a day and prepare myself for the impending Sunday Neurosis while I wait for another glorious Saturday next week!

Today, I came across a very riveting talk by Eve Ensler at the 2005 TED Conference. Eve is an American playwright and activist, best known for her play, The Vagina Monologues. In this eloquent talk, she shares the timeless wisdom of insecurity, first proposed, so far as recorded history goes, by Eastern philosophies and reinterpreted in so many different forms ever since!

Eve’s message in this talk, despite its apparent somber connotation, is surprisingly both comforting and exhortative!