Where the hell is Matt were my ears?

I can't thank Bongo enough. He first brought it to my notice, via The NY Times, and Sepia Mutiny, that the video which had blown my mind away on first watch about ten days ago, and by now has been viewed five million times already, had music set on lyrics from Rabindranath tagore's poem from Gitanjali. Set to haunting music by Gary Schyman, and sung with rare verve by Palbasha Siddique, a Bangladeshi teenager out of Minnesota. Like the NY Times article says,

In many ways “Dancing” is an almost perfect piece of Internet art: it’s short, pleasingly weird and so minimal in its content that it’s open to a multitude of interpretations. It could be a little commercial for one-world feel-goodism. It could be an allegory of American foreign policy: a bumptious foreigner turning up all over the world and answering just to his own inner music. Or it could be about nothing at all — just a guy dancing.However you interpret it, you can’t watch “Dancing” for very long without feeling a little happier.

I was so happy watching the video I couldn't, or didn't bother about lyrics at all. At first watch, it sounded like something in in an obscure language, maybe Maori. The music was appropriate. I even showed it to two Bengali friends last Sunday morning, over beer. They had the same reaction. Nobody caught the words.

Bongo was curious about what the poem actually was, so I thought about looking a little more and found it was from Gitanjali. Utube has even released a version of the music with subtitles here. The number is selling wildly on Amazon too. The lyrics I will Ctrl-C Ctrl-V from here for fellow Bengalis who might be too lazy to read subtitles.

Bhulbona ar shohojete
Shei praan e mon uthbe mete
Mrittu majhe dhaka ache
je ontohin praan

Bojre tomar baje bashi
She ki shohoj gaan
Shei shurete jagbo ami

Shei jhor jeno shoi anonde
Chittobinar taare
Shotto-shundu dosh digonto
Nachao je jhonkare!

Bojre tomar baje bashi
She ki shohoj gaan
Shei shurete jagbo ami
She ki shohoj gaan.

Two things. I'm as true red a Bong as they come, though I don't readily recall that poem. Second, as many Bongs would agree, the work that got Tagore his Nobel was definitely not his best. It was like giving the Coen Brothers the Best Picture Oscar for No Country, and not for Fargo or Oh Brother, where art thou?

Wifey, of course, effortlessly took the cake. Last weekend I once went running some errands while the video was playing on the pc. She was pottering about the house and not watching. She now says she caught the words right then and it sounded vaguely like Rabindranath. I'm like, stop pheko-ing, mama!

Lie down and Listen

Abeeda, bless her soul, is easily one of my five most favorite singers. She of the wild headshakes and the late Fatty Ali Khan Sahab (No offense; just terms of endearment.) This blogger is completely floored by her power, style and range. Alas, it's her inimitable style, that today I'm about to make a weeny-teenie complaint on. You see, it's like this. Whenever Abeeda opens her mouth and lets forth the first notes of her song, she is in communication with divinity. It's a great thing when she's singing sufi. I mean it's overpowering. It makes an agnostic like me go into trances and have visions of a Supreme Being. Take Raqs-e-bismil.

Now consider her singing a simple song of love. She is still talking to Almighty.

Woh Jiski Deed Mei...

Don't get me wrong here, this song also is a big favorite. It's still an awesome rendition and all. It's just that whilst listening to it all these years, I had a foolish notion the poet had meant to convey delicate things about God, in those lines. Thanks to Abeeda's power singing and my proficiency in Urdu. It's only recently I've learnt , that Janab Faiz Ahmad Faiz sahab actually wrote this fine ghazal while hanging out by the wayside and ogling at the beauty queen of Sialkot as she walked by. For all we know. I wanted to translate it, but later realized that like much of great poetry, it's not about what the poet is saying but how he says it. And that, unfortunately, is impossible to translate.

Nuff chitchat. Listen to the song. Browse the lyrics, courtesy schwetank. I've included meanings of certain words and expressions. I had looked for them here and here, while attempting the translation. Thought it might come in useful for people with prolific Urdu, like me.

Woh jiski deed mein laakhoun masarratein pinhaan

Woh husn jiski tamanna mein jannat pinhaan

Masarrat: Happiness, Joy; Pinhaan: Concealed, Hidden

Hazaar fitney tah-e-paa-e-naaz khaak-e-nasheen

Har eik nigaah khumar-e-shabaab se rangeen

Tah : Plait, fold, multiplicity, perplexity; Fitnaa: Sedition, Mischief, Quarrel, Revolt, Temptation, Wickedness

Naaz : coquetry, amorous playfulness

Shabaab jis se takhaiyul pe bijliyaan barsein

Waqaar jiski rafaqat ko shokhiyaan tarsey

Shabaab: Juvenility, Youth ; taḵẖaiyul : imagination, fancy ; Waqaar : Solemnity ;

rafāqat : companionship, society, friendship ; Shokhiyaan : Coquetry, Mischief, Restlessness

Ada-e-laghzisheiy paa par qyamatein qurbaan

Bayaz-e-rukh pey sahar ki sabahatein qurbaan

Laghzish: Blunder, Lapse, Mistake, Tottering ; Bayaaz: Album, Handbook, Notebook, Vade Mecum

Sahaba : Wine, Esp. Red Wine ; Rukh : Face, Cheek, Side

Siyaah zulfoun mein badaaon sa nikhatoun ka hujoom

Taweel raatoun ki khwabeedah raahatoun ka hujoom

Siyaah :Black, Dark ; Baadaa : Booze, Wine ; Nikhat: Fragrance;

Hujoom: Assault, Attack, Crowd, Onset, Throng, Tumult ; Taweel: Extended, Lengthy, Long ;

Raahat : Quiet, rest, repose, ease, tranquillity

Woh aankh jiski banao pe khaliq dey raae

Zabaan-e-shair ko tareef kartey sharmaae

Banaao : Appearance, form, shape, colour, Adornment; ḵẖāliq : The Great Creator, the Originator

Gudaaz jism qaba jispe sajke naaz karey

Daraaz qad jisey sarw-e-sahi namaz karey

Gudaaz: Well-Mixed, Well-endowed ;Daraaz : Long, tall; Qaba: Gown, Long Coat Like Garment

Sarw : Affluent, Opulent, Rich, Wealthy; Sahi : A religious mendicant, a Mohammadan faqīr;

Kisi zamaney mein is rah-guzar sey guzraa thaa

Ba-sad guroor-o-tajammul idhar sey guzraa thaa

Tajammul : Dignity, pomp, splendour, magnificence; guroor : pride, vanity, haughtiness,

Ba-sad : by a hundred

Aur ab ye raah guzar bhi hai dilfareb-o-haseen

Hai uski khaak mein kaif-e-sharab-e-sair makeen

Dil fareb : Alluring, Beautiful, Charming, Enticing; Sair : Walk, Excursion, Stroll

Makeen : Firmly fixed; well-established;--in a high station; Kaif: exhilaration, Happiness, Intoxication, Joy

Hawa mein shokhi-e-raftaar ki adaaein hain

Faza mein narmi-e-guftaar ki sadaen hain

Fiza ; Atmosphere, Environment; guftaar : discourse, conversation ; Raftaar: Going, motion, walk, gait, pace

Shokhi : Playfulness, fun, mischief; pertness, sauciness; coquetry, wantonness

Garaz vo husn is raah ka juzu-e-manzar hai

Niyaz-e-ishq kou eik sajda gaah maiyassar hai

Garaz: An object of aim or pursuit, or of desire; aim, end, object, design, view, purpose;

Manzar: Aspect, Countenance, Landscape, Scene, Visage ; Niyaz : Petition, supplication, prayer; Mayassar: easy, feasible, practicable; favourable

No news is good news

I live in the land of no-news. Suits me fine, since after living here for almost two decades, I'm slightly afraid of hip-and-happening places. Apart from the absence of globalized marketplaces and entertainment complexes which are so de rigeur for modern city living, I have little to complain about this back-of-beyondness. The no-good surd visited our city just the other day. During his ten-minute speech, we noticed something . That the name of our city had completely escaped his consciousness. He mentioned Jharkhand six times and Jamshedpur, four, but not for once did he utter the name we so wanted to hear, from his lips. I think he didn't learn zis' vaard.

We were a bit depressed at first. Then I saw this cartogram of the US of A. Modified by the quotient of news generated vis-a-vis territory. And realization dawned.

pic courtesy : Strange Maps

Apparently we are in good company. Good company like Topeka, Boise, and Cheyenne, to name just a few. If that sounds incomprehensible, read this. This cartogram, originally from the August 2004 issue of Science News Magazine, where it illustrated an article entitled ‘A Better Distorted View: The Physics of Diffusion Offers A New Way of Generating Maps’. Seems news has a system of redistributing maps. What do you think?

The good Doc.

Immense entertainment value bit of news this.

One feels a little sorry for the good doc. No, I've no sympathy for pervs and I'm not one of them, for the two of you who'll be reading! But , c'mon now, this is the sort of thing happening all the time these days. Date rape, fake identities, taking advantage of the coy Indian woman desperately seeking love, romance and a life partner ... so what else is new? The news in the item is the startling perversions of the good doc, that he would feel the urge to watch a cricket match after inflicting 10 inches of pain ( you know where), that he would ask the victim "How do you feel on your suhagrat night?" One feels a little sorry just because our good doc was a legit GP who was otherwise doing fine ( a quick google search reveals he's listed on the Newham recorder too) who got busted probably only because he couldn't take it a bit easy and had to go the whole hog ( I mean anal rape, O My God!) on the very first date. I think he could have gotten away like so many other bastards, if only....

Pardon me my bad taste. But we live in India. Here we're used to news items like the Nithari killings and villains like M.S.Pandher. This Tangotra sod looks like an amusing old punk, in perspective. Lastly, the profile of young desi professionals( in UK?) who had no sexual experience whatsoever sounds as phony as a three GBP note.

Now I know. Why nobody reads my blog and nobody ever leaves a comment. On the other hand, there's elation at being on the same reading level as Greatbong.