We couldn't get much higher

To portray a bohemian, Atlas Drugged, fallen prima-donna like Jim Morrison is far from elementary. To do it well is difficult. But, to do it realistically AND convincingly, is exemplary.

New respect for Val Kilmer, as I'm still trying to figure out how this 1991 Oliver Stone flick, The Doors, got past me. Its so challenging to portray the world, as seen through the eyes of a supercoked-up phenomenon like Morrison. A delicate but effective performance by Meg Ryan, in an extremely out-of-character role for her.

You can see the humble beginnings of Stone's Dali-esque visual tactics, which he used unabashedly in Natural Born Killers. While it tells the true tale of one of Rock & Roll's greatest legends, it also makes one think about the people we idolize. Morrisson, Cobain, Hendrix - all around the age of 27 when they died, under mysterious circumstances, all attaining pedestals of fame which are near-mythical. And, because of their reckless, devil-may-care attitudes and lifestyles, we have the modern correlated triumvirate of sex, drugs and rock & roll.

Regardless of whether Morrison was idolworthy or not, this movie does not preach that his lifestyle was wrong, or whether his end justified his turbulent lifestyle and habits. In an alternative template, it makes you feel that Morrison lived his life, completely, the way he wanted to, the only way he knew how, and, from the chilling and abrupt final scene, - almost, opening the door of death when he wanted to, when he knew his time had come.

Song of the moment: Riders on the Storm (The Doors)

Work Blogging is Back!

Yes! Finally! I knew they couldn't keep it up for longer! Blogger is back in the workplace. See, its one thing to blog. Its a completely other thing to get paid to do it :-)

In other news, here's the AFI's "top 100 movies of all time" list. I've got only 32 down :-( Netflix, here I cometh!

And its finally, summer in New York! Which means Summerstage, Shakespeare in the Park, Movies in Bryant Park, and tonnes of such events that make NYC the place to be! (Of course, throwing projectiles at the not-so-pressed-for-time cretins waiting in line, through rain and shine, for the IPhone at the Apple store is particularly engaging. Its JUST an overpriced device, mineons!)

Amanat Ali from Dubai

Spotted this guy on SaReGaMaPa Challenge 2007, a show that has degenerated infinitely in format since the golden Sonu Nigam days. But, its singers like him and performances like this one that bring life back into the show. Seriously - what a performance! As Vishal Dadlani put it - "pure singing" and simply "mindblowing". Right from his song selection (Yeh Hausla - Dor) to his effortless rendition of a really vocally-challenging song - this guy is really inspiring.

SRGMP_23rdJune_HQ_P2_apnicommunity.com
Uploaded by Aasif

Dear God, no...

Mar ke kaise jeete hain, is duniya ko batlaane,
Tere laal chale hain, maaye, ab teri laaj bachaane..

If patriotism were packaged into a song, this would be it. A challenging composition, and an even more challenging song to sing. I gave it a shot, with a simple string ensemble background. Updated in the music section of my website. Check it out (recommended listening: on a pair of good surround headphones).

Dream

Enchanting. Completely short of words to describe the "3rd Dimension Tour" performance of A R Rahman in New York, at the packed Nassau Coliseum (14,400 people).

More respect for the Yamaha Tyros, which formed his central musicstation for the evening. What a piece of work!

Rahman's show packaging was lethal, with a great line-up of supporting artists and musicians. I feel that after much experimentation, Rahman's musical troupe has arrived and truly give a complete musical experience. Yes, there's a lot of pre-recorded tracks, but they are supported significantly by live musicians, percussion and vocalists, under the able tutelage of Rahman and conductor, K Sridhar. Watching him at soundcheck was an experience, as it was amazing to see how his team was in absolute awe and respect for this genius. A simple few words from him, were enough to motivate everyone to try harder, and do better. Each time they'd try something new, they'd look to him to see if they've impressed him sufficiently. Sometimes, he'd just continue to stare at his keyboard, sometimes he'd look back and let out a subtle smile. I bet that smile meant more to them than a National Award - acknowledgement from a true musical exponent.

Among the best performances of the night were Sukhwinder's Chaiyya Chaiyya which was one of the most comprehensive performances, as he blended it seamlessly with Thaiyya Thaiyya. The other would have to be Ramta Jogi - a song that one almost forgets when one thinks about the amazing soundtrack of Taal. But in live performances, one realizes how many intricacies of the song were painstakingly brought together to create it - the blowing sound in the beginning, the water splash sound in the background, the way the bass kicks in late and gives the song energy, the brass set in the middle - all in all, it can easily be one of the most unconventional songs ever in Indian music. No parallels. Quite like many of Rahman's other hits. Some of his Tamil songs, including Thee Thee, and the Sivaji tracks (especially Sahara and Vaji Vaji, which had a unique chord progression when performed live), were awesome as well.

One of the most energetic performers of the night was Rahman's new protege, Naresh Iyer (inset), who sang many of the Rang De Basanti songs, including one of my favorites, Roo-ba-roo. With longer hair on stage, he looked so much like Sanjaya Malakar, that it was almost scary.

You start to love a lot of Rahman's songs once you hear them live. Like the Ghanan ghanan track from Water (not Lagaan). The energy involved in the live performance makes you completely fall in love with the rise and fall of the santoor and the interplay with the vocals which make this song lethal. The "Kesariya Balma" solo by the Rajasthani folk singer was really powerful as well.

Sivamani - no words for this man. He's a revelation.

What amazes me is that, if actually considered, Rahman doesn't have a strong stage presence. He doesn't interact too much with the audience, he's really shy, he's always so deeply engrossed in his own world while singing, he speaks barely a few words to the audience. One would think that these factors would go to turn people off. But yet the love and adulation when he comes up to sing, is epic. Rahman solos, Dil Se and Vande Mataram, were the clear winners of the night.

Rahman's fans and true aficionados are unlike any other cult in the world. They either love his music for the energy, the way it makes them feel or the intricacies which make him eras ahead of his time. They recognize his songs right from the opening chord. They love him to death. We've all seen singers and musicians fall with simply a few bad tours, or unpopular soundtracks. Even in musical attempts which seem to be a little lack-lustre or unlike his usual work, his fans find appeal in the subtle bits of genius that emerge in all of his songs, and even make excuses for him ("he was too engrossed in his broadway and west-end work, that's why this seems a little out-of-character for him"). And it will take neither hell nor high water to prevent them from coming together for a performance of his - as is clear from his 12 sold-out shows across the US.

I don't think any other artist in Indian history, has actually had this much international love and appreciation. Is it his sincerity? His simplicity? His genius? His sheer love for his art that emerges in everything he does?

Perhaps its all of it put together. Which makes him who he is.

Legendary.

Etihad - Diamond Zone

Katherine Heigl and Priyanka Chopra

Especially after watching Knocked Up, I really think these two look startlingly similar. Any takers?

However, haven't been lucky enough to find pictorial proof of this.

Meanwhile - Mulholland Drive awaits. David Lynch is the man!

What I don't get...

When people say "congratulation" instead of "congratulations". What .. do I not deserve more ... is there a shortage ... or has your country imposed an embargo on best wishes?

People walking around with the bluetooth earpiece. I mean, how crucial is the mere potential of a call, that you require an annoying blue-blinky-blink in your ear all the time? Do you even realize that it doesn't even look like you're important, but more like you're impaired?

Best Airplane Read: Frederick Forsythe's No Comebacks - intricate short webs spun by an ever-so-brilliant story teller.

And my incomparable quote of the week - spoken by the one and only Ms "I-Can't-Believe-How-Much-I-Love-Chicago", at our recent intriguing encounter, over wine and over-herbed tzatziki dip at an unpronouncable sports bar at the O'Hare Hilton. "I'm so sickeningly educated" - How subtle, no?

zindagi ko bhi sila kehte hain kehne waale
jeene waale to gunaahon ki saza kehte hain

- Sudarshan Faakir/Jagjit Singh (Beyond Time)

Getting Some California Love....

Lovin' the weather. Livin' it up in SFO!

In other news, I think I've grown accustomed enough to the NY/NJ crowd to classify. Not judging, but there are a few generalizations in the species.

Manhattan Desis: Work in the Financial District/Midtown or creative artists, Live on the UWS or Chelsea, Mostly ABCDs, Grocery Shop at Gristedes, Party around Bowery, Constantly on the prowl for new brunch spots on Sunday mornings, Don't believe there is a need to leave the island for any reason, Don't own a car, Rent a minimalistic apartment ('cuz its cheaper, but pass it off as artistic), Experts at working the subway system, Walk at the speed of light, even when there's no reason to, Can expertly pair Ferragamo separates with Brooks Brothers accessories, Shop exclusively at premium outlets and occasionally, on Fifth Avenue, Mentally divide hangout places into After Work, Late Night, Must-go and Too Desi 4 Me, Actively facebook with a wide NYC network of friends. Constantly living abhorrently over their means, Don't feel that a savings account is their style, or that a word called retirement will ever affect them.

Only reason they venture out into Jersey: Ikea
Only reason they venture out into Queens: Desi food crave day - Jackson Diner

New York City Pride: Immense!

Wardrobe color: Black, black and more black.

Conversation Points: Party spots, Who's-sleeping-with-whom, Random hookups, or other random stuff that starts with the line .. "ok last night I was so wasted....."

Ask a ManhattanDesi where to go, and they'll say: Take the Z down to 17th, switch to the Q and its 3 stops.

Jersey Desis: Work in the Financial District/Midtown, Began life in Jersey by measuring their distance from NYC as justifiable, but slowly blended into suburbia, Grocery Shop at at all those places which have the word 'Shop' in them, Party at home, Constantly on the prowl for Costco deals, Own a home with more bedrooms than people - and center their life on its maintenance, Experts at maneuvring the turnpike, Shop at designer-second warehouses and Macys (only on sale), Occasionally 'trek' to NYC, Own 2 cars, lease another 4, Have a constant-repeat, limited circle of friends, have block and potluck parties with said friends. Constantly living abhorrently within their means, Have a savings account and plan for retirement.

Only reason they venture out into NYC: To party like New Yorkers, and wrap it up by 1 AM 'cuz they have the gardeners coming the next morning.

Wardrobe Color: Exotic, and almost hawaiian at times.

Jersey Pride: What's Jersey Pride? Is it a new home improvement store?

Conversation points: Bollywood, Immigration, Gas prices, Rising rates of homeowners insurance/tax, The latest killer discount deal at Costco and Traffic.

Ask a JerseyDesi where to go and they'll say: Take 195 to the 452, go 4 miles to I-55, exit 66.

Unusual for WSJ

I've never seen the Wall Street Journal cartoons make references to socio-political no-nos like caste, religion, etc. Then this cartoon popped up, and made me think that people out here still have a very limited world-view.

No, this joke isn't funny. I'm not dissing the fact that its an India-referenced joke - I'm the first one to laugh at brown jokes. In fact, I make a lot of them as well. I completely understand the reference, and I even understand the thought process of the writer - but I don't think I understand what kind of a point he's trying to make, or even what the humor angle of the joke is. In addition, and most importantly, I feel the cartoon highlights a very limited understanding of social India - and almost reminds me of something a a couple of bully-type kids would snigger about, when a nerd walks by - picking on an attribute that they don't completely perceive at all.

Deriving humor out of non-comprehension is not something I expected from institutions of the repute of WSJ/NYT, etc.

In other news, fun weekend coming up. Hitting up the Sonu/Asha/Kunal/Kailash makes it all the more enticing. concert at the Trump Taj in Atlantic City. Been a while since I hit up the desi event scene - I've tried to stay away as much as possible over the last year. But this concert sounds inviting - especially Sonu's performance, which is always legendary. And of course, trekking up to big bad Atlantic City. Don't miss me too much - shall be back in the spin of the roulette wheel.

Song of the Week-end

Aakhri Alvida - Strings (OST - Shootout at Lokhandwala) - pleasantly mellow and rising.

Its so Coldplay. Its just so Coldplay.

And to add to it, Anwar Maqsood's words are truly heart-rendered. Best I've heard in a while. Here's a sample:

Sab yaad hai, jo bandhe the bandhan
Kaajal bhi diya haathon mein kangan,
Mehki rehti thi mehndi,
Gaata rehta tha saawan,
In yaadon ko saapno mein rehne do,
yeh Aakhri Alvida na ho…

Is dard ko dil mein, dil mein rehne do,
Jo khauf hai ankho mein, ankhon se kehne do,
Dukh ki nadi, chup chap behne do,
Jo kehna hai tum dheere se kehdo,
Yeh Aakhri Alvida na ho

Beautifully penned.

Cultural Self-Enhancement...

... this weekend, at MoMA. Loved the Andy Warhol exhibits.

followed by 230 Fifth - one of the most spectacular rooftop lounges in the city! Check out the view (for even more awesome views, check out the updated Top of the Rock posting)

Let's Get It Done!

In case you're wondering about my temporary hiatus from regular blogdom, this is what I've been up to. Its been such a gargantuan task for the last few months, that we've needed to haul up all our marketing/strategy resources (especially since a large part of them got chucked during the C-Armageddon). But now that its through and launched, and a good, strong Saketini is the order of the weekend.

FYI - The order of last weekend was dodging Abhiwarya mourning. Crap! Say it ain't so :-(

Speak easy!

Top of the Rock!

By far, the world's most spectacular skyline. What a city! Tourists can now beat the 2 hour wait in lines at the Empire State, by checking out this beaut - 69th floor of the Rockefeller Center (affectionately called The Rock).


*UPDATED* Went back again a few days later ... check out the morning views.

Spellbound ... again!

Remember this? Guess they figured out their folly, and changed it. Spotted on the E train:

Dard mein bhi yeh lab muskuraa jaate hain,
Beete lamhein humein jab yaad aate hain

Heard this song on repeat, at least 50 times, while driving to New York over the weekend. Its brilliant, as is Mausam.

I'm a total proponent of the "sample-it-on-Raaga/MusicIndiaOnline/Smashits and-if-you-like-it-buy-it" philosophy. The last 3 Hindi music CDs that I've picked up have been phenomenal:

(1) Bas Ek Pal
(2) Life in a .... Metro
(3) The Train

Must Listen

Soundtrack of The Train. Been a while since I heard a soundtrack, which stuck to the definition of the term "soundtrack". Instead of the usual disjointed tracks to follow different themes and situations in the movie (the happy song, the sad song, the club song, the shaadi song).

Listen here. (Watch out for pop-ups)

Mithoon (this kid is soon to be a force to reckon with! Serious composer-watch on this guy) - he's the guy who brought us Tere Bin from Bas Ek Pal, and the soundtrack of Anwar - puts together a really interesting collection. Two tracks that stand out are Beete Lamhein and Mausam (try and catch the piano sequences and interludes, they're brilliant).

The lounge version of Beete Lamhein is awesome too.

Even the other tracks are decent - they take a while to grow on you, but altogether, they resonate a common sound. And its a really unique sound. Can't classify it entirely, because of the diversity of influences on them. Enjoy!

In other news, will be rockin' the Tribeca Film Festival today (for the uninitiated, this is like New York's Cannes - only, more terse, smart and crisp, in contrast to long-drawn and melodramatic), and catching up on some phenomenal shorts - staying away from pro-Iraq propaganda, that seems to have infiltrated the previously-untouched TFF.

And women .. please remember .. not all men are egoistic, arrogant and annoying. Some are dead.

Suit Yourself

Picked m'self up a spanking new Hugo Boss to celebrate my one-year with the big C. Inaugurated it with this combo of a Thomas Pink pink shirt, and a blue Perry Ellis Portfolio tie. Now, here's my point - wearing a pink shirt and a blue tie is a multi-dimensional statement. To me, it was just an interesting pastel-ish combo, but it stirred up a rather interesting debate. Is it - a blend of the feminine emotional side of a guy, with a touch of masculine aggression? Is it - a way to tone down the embarrasment of semi-in-closetness, with a stroke of trademark Hetero-ego? Is it the mark of a metro-sexual? Is it blueberry with strawberry coolwhip? All in all - my peeps have way too much free-time on their hands.

In other news, the arrivals area of an international terminal is a fascinating place. Utterly fascinating. Doesn't it have a catwalk-kinda feel to it? First of all, they guard the incoming passengers behind closed doors and walls as if they were supermodels about to emerge with a haute-couture spring collection. On the other side of these doors, are a group of eager, enthusiastic and comparatively well-rested and groomed 'fans' who are, for some reason, behind a rather pointless steel barricade. And although they are travel-weary and cranky while behind the doors at baggage claim - once the Airplane Posse is out in the open, with their oversized trolley of baggage - it doesn't matter how bad they look - they're on display now.

This is their moment to shine.

They do the walk.

Their wild imagination can almost visualize clickety-cameras, frantic paparazzi, thong-throwing crazed women. They have a hundred sixty two people staring them down, with pretty much a hundred sixty two of them going "That's not him".

You see all varieties. The business traveler looking for the car pick-up placcard with his name mispelt for the eleventh name - Won't they ever get it right? The hot mom (who was hot 30 years ago, and now she's just ... not), who just re-did her makeup in the restroom before baggage claim, heading over with a mile-sized smile to her rather embarassed son and his shocked friend. The people who start fake cellphone calls as they walk on their battery-dead phone, just so they appear like ultra-busy businessmen to the waiting flock.

While trying their level best to look cool in their wrinkled-wear as they do their little-turn on the catwalk, their eyes search, rather casually and matter-of-factly, through the crowd for their consort/ride/family/friend. Their casual glance turns slowly and painfully into a nervous hunt. Oh oh. The catwalks over. They're in front of the crowd. Pointless announcements are being made over the public-address system. Their thoughts are racing. "Shoot. No one's here. And I'm being stared down. Everyone here thinks I'm a loser whose come halfway across the world, to be stood up, in an international intrigue-type airport drama. They're still staring at me. Drat, what must I do. Should I do the pretend wave as if someone's here. Ok... Damn, now everyone's looking back to see who I'm waving it. Why do they care? Idiots. Now they know that I'm not waving at anyone. Now they think I'm a loser who sees things. Crap! This is not good. Maybe I'll just mosey over to the coffee shop, while I still have my dignity".

Too late, sonny boy. They've already seen your 'Hello Gooseberry' boxers sticking out of your overstuffed fake-Delsey. Dignity is a rumor to you.

Ah. Airports. Life would be rather grounded without them.