Ode

Miss verbal slapstick. Post dyslexic phoenixicity. Mary Poppins meets african blues. Tom Jones Ain't no sunshine follows fatboyslim fucking in heaven follows Suddenly I See. Accent narcissism. Poetic gluttony. Gluttoned poetry. Over the top loving. Shattered glass. DU kajal but eating with the pinkie out. Colour drenched but experience parched. Life as stream of consciousness. Patchwork emotions. Earthy. Browning creases. Curled lips ending edgy. Baby feet all woman. Convented. Cow belt dancer. Muted colours, straight lines, a-line contrast to extravagance in mindspace. Insult to stereotype, cliche. Enviably enviable. Everyone's best friend. But my adopted mindfuckbuddy. Pocketsized, amplifier brained. Slurpy little pancake.

Indigo air waves

Every morning I drive to work. I know how everyone LOVES to bitch about Bangalore traffic - people who can drive, people who can't drive, people who commute everyday, people who never go anywhere except in their garam masala stained nighties to the kirana shop next door... EVERYONE loves to crib about Bangalore traffic. Except me.

Well, not that I LIKE how crowded it is and how my dad's car now has pretty dents characterising it.. but I don't particularly hate it. Since I was 16 i dreamt of driving to work. And I am doing it now.. so I don't give a fig for what others have to say.

Right.. so I drive to work everyday. And the first thing I do is turn my radio on. And in a moment, there is bliss.. The song doesn't matter, the ads don't matter, the RJs don't matter... its Radio!! Queen sang about it. I remember how I waited until we had private radio channels. Cos now we could HEAR the music.. and to top it, there were people who LIKED talking talking to us now. So much fun!!

More than the radio we get to listen to here, its the concept of radio that one must like. Forget being tuned into the city's happenings, or the traffic updates or how every channel seems to want to throw obscene amounts of money at already well paid individuals.. its what radio IS that matters.

Think about it. Radio promises one a steady stream of the most popular music of the day totally free of cost and more importantly, totally free of effort. You don't have to choose your playlist. You don't have to choose your artist. You don't need to figure out where your mood is at to then choose the right artist to then choose the right song. And to add to it.. you don't run the risk of not having enough variety. The moment you turn the radio on, you automatically shift the responsibility to the station. As long as you are broadly in the right 'wavelength' (in our city, each wavelength being characterised by the language of music it plays), you're all set. Let it play away...

Once you let someone else decide what it is you are listening to.. it doesn't jar. Cos you didn't choose it. Even the worst song you could be listening to at that moment is not that bad. And after one song ends, the next begins.. ON ITS OWN. Radio channels have the luxury of the shuffle button.. ACROSS different genres/ artists / pace of songs/ everything. And there you have it. Your very own mass manufactured playlist.. and of course its MUSIC.. how wrong can anyone go???

I don't know about those who call themselves music buffs and have a highly 'defined' (read, narrow) taste in music.. why don't you understand there is a time and place for each song. Its like a person. Except most songs have the ability to put ideas in your head.. with the added help of a melodious tune!! How many people can do that for you?

I simply adore radio. And especially radio in Bangalore. Where the RJs can actually mention artists and not have to mention the song name.. where the RJ can get away with playing covers of songs that do not need to be introduced.. where they literally let music soak into each and every bubble that travels along super crowded roads and makes life a little more pleasant. Radio brings out the shade where there are no trees.. and does so with a smile.

Radio is the brown in your coffee. And your excuse from thought. Thank god for small mercies!!

Of aunties and allergy towards anything synthetic

Jyenagar Jala has an annoying aunt. She comes home ever so often and likes to tell her mother how to live. Jala don't like it. She loves her mummy. Her mummy is round and brown and never does frown. Well, she does, but she look so cute na!!! Makes Jala's sun bleached hair on arms stand up.

Jyenagar jala wants to tell auntie to stuff face with synthetic dupatta. And leave her pretty mommy alone.