... here's more on the violin since my last crazy post.

(after 40 sec - check out the wacky, brilliant violin in the background)

Done for the day :D

Kaise Mujhe was the most beautiful thing in the movie - my love for the song has only gone up exponentially since watching the movie. Brilliance from all angles - A R Rahman, Benny Dayal, Shreya Ghoshal, Aamir Khan, Asin and even the guys behind the movie for giving it the whole out-of-the-earth-floating feel. Just closing my eyes to the song and remembering flashes of the song from the movie chokes me - hardly any other moment in the movie touched me so. So beautiful, so poignant, so moving, so sincere and genuine... oh, 'if music be the food of love, play on', for life without music is ill-spent.

It's Friday and I'm desperately trying to churn out some fluff writing at work for an event. I realize, with horror, that it turns out to be more difficult than I thought. Nevertheless, I chug on, with extreme happiness that a week with long hours at work is finally coming to an end.

What contributes more to the tempo and enthu in which I'm doing everything is the song I'm listening - Elay! It's cute, funny, fast, interesting and enjoyable! And it's got everything I like - acoustic guitar, a violin that's on a frenzy, Naresh Iyer [;)], pace and interesting and understandable lyrics. And the part of the song I love the most (for reasons I really cannot follow) is the way the song grinds to a halt in the end, with the sudden halt of beats, the chords that still play on and the voice and the words - 'Kaadhal station vandhiruchu vaa...'

I feel like an idiot getting so excited for (of all things), the ending of the song, but.. it's..

Awesome!

Randomness reigns supreme in Vani's life.

I can see what's happened. What?
And they don't have a clue. Who?
They'll fall in love, and here's the bottomline.
Our trio's down to two. Oh.

It doesn't take me much effort to try to remember the first time I heard these words as part of what I spelled then as 'Loin King' soundtrack. It was a dim white tubelight-lit room in my uncle's house in Bombay. I remember the tracks were recorded in a cassette that also held Aqua's tracks, with my own version of the actual Aqua cassette cover drawn on a white paper and inserted in the cassette's front cover. And now, almost 12 years later, I listen to this song on my (new!) iPod, my dream for three years finally in my hands, the delicate, engraved darling.

Listening to music in an iPod is lovely for a number of reasons. First, it holds more songs than any portable music player I have had. Second, the songs are simply awesome to listen to on this. Konjam Nilavu is thrilling, Dil Se Re's silent chals-chals in the interludes amazingly evident, and the acoustic guitar in New York Nagaram's stanzas beautifully travel from one ear to another. Third, I've just wanted it for so long that it feels exhilarating to simply hold it in my hands. It's just becoming extremely difficult for me to maintain my composure and not spread my arms and break into a dance in the middle of the road or in the canteen queue.

The random order in which the songs play just transport me back and forth in time to when I heard the song first or of opinions/ideas I had of it then. Listening to Anjali Anjali (Anjali) today, I suddenly grew surprised at the amount of clarity the lyrics held for me now - has my Tamil significantly improved, or is it the truth that I've suddenly grown up enough to understand so many things? Music always holds associations for me, and this is being reinforced here with the iPod.

iPod is damn smart too. There was one evening when it was rainy and everything, and by some weird coincidence, for almost half an hour, every song either began with thunder or was about rain!

Just when I get all pullarichufied thinking of music and everything, iPod smartly plays 'Thank you for the music' (ABBA): 'Without a song or dance, what are we?'