There is no complete silence in nature–listening closely to silence, we come to hear a myriad of quiet sounds within the hearing range of the human ears which we are used to ignoring and taking for granted as absence of sound. Silence, thus, turns out to be the absence of both expected and unwanted sound frequencies, while we do not consider most of the nameless finer frequencies between and beyond these arbitrary sound-marks. Everything in nature produces frequencies within and/or beyond our hearing range.
The physical properties of sounds in nature can trigger our auditory nerves in myriad ways influencing our psychic states. Some frequencies are soothing while some others are disturbing. The sound of the drizzling rain has a different effect on us than the sound of the thunder rumbling or a cricket chirping.
The frequency of the cricket’s cry I recorded a couple of hours ago and am posting here has a tensing effect on us. In other words, this cricket gives you some tension. Play the track and feel it for yourself.
Among what make the world beautiful (despite itself) and life worth living is Frank Sinatra. His songs. His Strangers in the Night (among many of his other numbers) is one of my all-time favorites. This really makes my nights beautiful even when I spend them alone. Lyrics here.
And here is another version. From a live performance. Of course, as we know, most live performances by the singers themselves of already famous records have flavors slightly different from the originals. A concert performance is a different medium than a studio recording session.
Another number among my all-time favorites is his Killing Me Softly. O my! He is–I mean is–a singer. Such a singer. Lyrics here.
Last night it rained here in this part of Delhi where I live. Its sound was so sweet. The sound of the rain is my crush. After sleepless nights, days and nights of sleep and wakefulness in fits and starts of about two weeks, finally sleep came heavily on me after 60 hours of sleeplessness at a stretch. The rain continued.
The alarm rang long before dawn. I could not remember setting it. The last time I went to Manipur (yes, recently), I was so busy that such basic things of life as food and sleep became secondary–I worked at the studio day and night, without sleeping for 48 hours or more. I must have set it then, not to miss the dawn run of the Kakching Runners. Things often slip off my mind. But back to Delhi, I have not once heard the alarm ringing. Strange.
When I woke up, it was still raining, though slow. In the dark. I could not go back to sleep. Then memory brought a lot of things back to me. My thought was set into motion. My emotions aroused.
Composed by André Rieu performed by Laura Engel this version of Bésame Mucho totally wrings and tears my heart, and I want my heart tortured again and again and over again if it is like this.
André Rieu is one of my all-time favorite composers (still living, thank God) and Laura Engel–she sings like there was no song before this and nobody knew or sang a song before this. She does not touch you, but she can break you as if like by magic. This is what music should do. This is what a song is.
André Rieu and Laura Engel at a live concert in Maastricht (2015)
Once used to the environment they find themselves in, children find joy–at least momentary ones–in the dust, among broken machines, in the concrete rubble heaps of war, under the roofless slum houses, though those in oppressive conditions would have to get back to their torturous realities after a brief period of joy.
Adults! Hmmm! What they do in search of joy, in search of happiness! Unhappy about happiness. Tired of searching for rest.
Shots from the Liberty Theater director Uttam Kumar‘s Yayati translated and adapted by playwright Ksh. Sanajaoba from Girish Karnad’s play of the same name. The play premiered at LIBRAICK auditorium on 27 May, 2017.
I am not yet aware of the players and other necessary details. I will add them on the go.
While rolling up the sleeves for my film, Walking Home, I met the Liberty Theater director, Uttam Kumar and Manipuri playwright, Ksh. Sanajaoba at the Laipham Loknung pukhri on the outskirts of Kakching on 6 March 2017. They were having a lunch party there as a kick-start for the Yayati (translated and adapted from Girish Karnad’s text in English by Sanajaoba), which was to be premiered on 27 May 2017.
Nobody knows why he does not choose to be a singer when he has such a golden voice.
Here he sings K.J. Yesudas’s Surmai Akhiyon Mein from Balu Mahendra’s 1983 drama Sadma. Karaoke.
This song was recorded at the Robert Leishangthem Workstation, right at the heart of Kakching keithel, where all the noise of the market and the street flowed in from one side and three walls blocked it like an echo chamber.
Jotin himself recorded this song in a small studio not designed for music recording. Without any instrument accompaniment. I doubt he positioned the mic properly :). I did no editing, except increasing the volume because the volume level of my laptop speakers is terribly low, and I am not sure how this is going to sound despite Jotin’s golden voice.