This is what my playlist looks like right now-
Elisa- Dancing
Chantal Kreviazuk- Leaving on a Jet Plane
Jewel- Hands
Madeline Peyroux- Between the Bars
Kings of Convenience- I Don’t Know What I Can Save You From
Lord of the Rings- Gollum’s Song
Turin Brakes- Rain City
The Decemberists- Of Angels and Angles
This blogpost isn’t about anything in particular. Just listen to these songs and tell me if you like them.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
I was sitting in my college library, working on my friend’s laptop. Sifting through the music on her laptop, I found the Amelie Soundtrack. Suddenly, the lights went out. And in the dark, the first few bars of Le Moulin rang out. If you’ve heard La Moulin, then you’ll know the part when the accordion stops and the piano starts playing. Try remembering how the piano starts. Better still, play the song as you read this. Now imagine the fluorescent lights in a large, dark hall flickering to life with this music. If you can do this correctly, and if you are in company, like I was, then you will do what I did. Breathe deeply, reign in the urge to smile broadly, and feel like the universe went out of its way to make you very happy.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Of Things I Like And Things I Learn
I like beginnings. I also like ends. Some of my friends would tell you that I like everything, but that is not true. I do not like the colour yellow ochre, and neither do I like it when quotation marks are used randomly. But, as usual, I digress. And I like digressing quite a bit.
So, I like beginnings. I like the beginning of a new year, and there hasn’t been a single year of school that I haven’t looked forward to. I like the chance to start afresh, I like how everything can be different. And most of all (and this is close to being my most favourite thing in the whole wide world)- I like the possibility that things are going to happen. New things, things which have never happened. The whole world could change in innumerable ways, and I don’t know how. It’s enough to make one giddy with joy.
But if one must begin, one must begin the right way. With the right mindset, observing the correct rituals. I believe in rituals. They are the primary reason why I can never be an atheist. Because, when I pray, or when I light an incense stick, I honestly believe that the act in itself is significant, that lighting that stick has indeed brought me closer to God. It’s a childish understanding of rituals, I am afraid, but one that has stuck with me nonetheless.
So, as I was saying, I believe in the right ritual. And starting something new with the right frame of mind. You see, I have a problem. I don’t learn lessons very well. I am always eager to learn them, however. Tell me a fable, and I will take it to heart. If only for the next day or so. If self-improvement books weren’t so corny, I would read them all. I am a strange sort of masochist.
So, because I don’t remember my lessons for long, I must remind myself of them periodically. I have a tiny notebook in which I write everything I learn. Of course, it takes a fair bit of reminding to actually write in it. I also have favourite books and movies that I keep going back to. Which, at last, brings us to the much-awaited point. I just saw Amelie.
*big grin*
I love the movie. Love it to bits and pieces, and then I join the pieces together and love it again. The Amelie Soundtrack is one of my favourite albums, right up there with the White Album and In Absentia. I listened to Amelie when my bus rolled out from Calcutta on a rainy dawn. I listened to Amelie in the backseat of a crowded bus, and I listened to Amelie in the dark, under my blankets, in the middle of the night. I love the music, and I love it only slightly less than the movie itself.
Which is why I reserve Amelie for special occasions. For those days when I need something to tilt my chin up. To learn, again, those tiny lessons which I keep forgetting. To not be cowardly. To not be too fond of stratagems. And to seize tiny moments. Oh, and also to not be afraid to lay yourself open once in a while, even if it’s to expose yourself for the cotton-candy stuffed bag of marshmallow mush that you really are.
So I watched Amelie again. I’ve taken note of my lessons, and hope to remember them when I wake up. For my third year in college.
So, I like beginnings. I like the beginning of a new year, and there hasn’t been a single year of school that I haven’t looked forward to. I like the chance to start afresh, I like how everything can be different. And most of all (and this is close to being my most favourite thing in the whole wide world)- I like the possibility that things are going to happen. New things, things which have never happened. The whole world could change in innumerable ways, and I don’t know how. It’s enough to make one giddy with joy.
But if one must begin, one must begin the right way. With the right mindset, observing the correct rituals. I believe in rituals. They are the primary reason why I can never be an atheist. Because, when I pray, or when I light an incense stick, I honestly believe that the act in itself is significant, that lighting that stick has indeed brought me closer to God. It’s a childish understanding of rituals, I am afraid, but one that has stuck with me nonetheless.
So, as I was saying, I believe in the right ritual. And starting something new with the right frame of mind. You see, I have a problem. I don’t learn lessons very well. I am always eager to learn them, however. Tell me a fable, and I will take it to heart. If only for the next day or so. If self-improvement books weren’t so corny, I would read them all. I am a strange sort of masochist.
So, because I don’t remember my lessons for long, I must remind myself of them periodically. I have a tiny notebook in which I write everything I learn. Of course, it takes a fair bit of reminding to actually write in it. I also have favourite books and movies that I keep going back to. Which, at last, brings us to the much-awaited point. I just saw Amelie.
*big grin*
I love the movie. Love it to bits and pieces, and then I join the pieces together and love it again. The Amelie Soundtrack is one of my favourite albums, right up there with the White Album and In Absentia. I listened to Amelie when my bus rolled out from Calcutta on a rainy dawn. I listened to Amelie in the backseat of a crowded bus, and I listened to Amelie in the dark, under my blankets, in the middle of the night. I love the music, and I love it only slightly less than the movie itself.
Which is why I reserve Amelie for special occasions. For those days when I need something to tilt my chin up. To learn, again, those tiny lessons which I keep forgetting. To not be cowardly. To not be too fond of stratagems. And to seize tiny moments. Oh, and also to not be afraid to lay yourself open once in a while, even if it’s to expose yourself for the cotton-candy stuffed bag of marshmallow mush that you really are.
So I watched Amelie again. I’ve taken note of my lessons, and hope to remember them when I wake up. For my third year in college.
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