January 05, 2014

This Time That Year

This post is split
Year by year
Four way
A Mumbai post long overdue
And the one with the RedBay
One on why they call me Sangam
Then some songs of yesterday


Everyone goes through that normal amount of ambition-shifting : from an astronaut(!) at 10 to an engineer(?) at 20. (And a musician, a sportsperson, a traveller, a photographer, a writer and 203 other such hobby professions in between).
As my first semester in college drew closer to its end, I was head to toe into music. A burst of zeal propelled me into trying to compose my own songs. Joined with one extremely talented Raikom Terang, we plunged into it. 
We wrote about love (what else!) and made ourselves proud by actually coming up with a couple of songs. Its only now that we realise how stereotyped, cheesy and patchy the lyrics were. But we were sure we were doing cool stuff. And in truth they did have a few catchy elements. They aren't the type that will make you go wow or repeat listen like we do to most great songs. They might even make your ears bleed. Still, that was us, and if it gave us nothing, yet a hell lot of memories - about songs which send me literally ROFLing even though they were meant to be dead serious (O love! O heartburns!).
So taking the utter risk of being ridiculed, being compared to Justin Beiber/One Direction or even being pointed towards gayish overtones, I will share 3 of them here.

1. My Starry Sky

We thought we would soon have enough to compile an album. But then in the second semester we had laptops and LAN and DC++. Guitars lay untuned in the corner with spiders adding their strings onto them.
I had started a song with another immensely talented dear friend Shreyans 'God' Gupta. (Yes, you need talented friends or these pilot projects never quite become flight worthy). I wrote the lyrics but never followed up. In the end he came up with the following all by himself.

2. Chasing Butterflies

Among the several unfinished ones, I and Raikom did close one more before the bubble finally burst.

3. Without You Its Not Easy


A lot of things may change a girls's mind. Gangajal isn't one of them.
God, miracle, whatever you might associate to its range of powers - it didnt work for me. But it did manage to bind me (in what would later become a curious case of self-Chatak*) with a name so stuck that now the same Gangajal cannot wash it off.
Well, I should have thought of it before disappearing, without letting anyone know, midway through a quiz to get a bottle of holy Ganges from the shores of Sangam in Allahabad.
I am the one, who for once, betrayed the paramount love of quizzing for a passing crush.
I am Sangam.
:D :P

*Simply put, chatak refers to any and every, animate or inanimate, object or event, having the potential to divert one's thoughts towards an old crush.
It is said to follow you/find you everywhere. (*citation needed)
Usage limited to the group that conceived it. Time series analysis of chatak leading to reverse-chatak and evolvement into Fuchuk are yet to be declassified.


Actually this was in early 2012 (and not 2011 but lets just keep the flow :D ).
People saw the three of us leaving and they thought we were off to yet another quiz quest. For once we weren't. For the first time, we were travelling because we just wanted to. Unplanned.
If you, all of a sudden, decide to leave Ranchi for any other place, I bet you are a lot likely to end up in Kolkata. We did. But so that it doesn't become too mainstream, we zeroed in on a local beach town - Digha.

We found ourselves a dingy little room (for Rs. 25 per day for 3 people). The night was an experience in itself. Other than the mortal combat with mosquitoes that night, I remember the long stroll from one end of the beach to the other, the redbays (knockoff shades supposed to be raybans which would later lend its name to our every collaborated quiz related venture), the ride to Orissa on a motorised thela and wandering through Kolkata the next day in which travelled by the ferry, the tram, the local bus (which took us to south sinthee instead of south city) and the metro (to get back to south city). And before boarding the train back we scoured through the Park street looking for one tiny little four stringed fantasy. We succeeded, and kids, thats how I met my Ukulele.


We were there, sitting by the marine drive, when the Mayans were proven wrong. It was past 12 and it was December 21st. The doomsday had failed to cut our holiday short. And Kaka made the full use of it. He completed all rides of Essel World and Water Kingdom in one single day! And then watched Dabangg 2 and the Hobbit back to back!!

We were there for Mood Indigo (and the accommodation searching troubles that it saved). The stay was eventful. The very way in which 10 of us aligned ourselves while sleeping in that room provided was a thing to wonder. A little bit of Kullu was introduced into the equation and the rest was all chaos. More so with a flute in Shanky's hand. (Why did we have a flute? Before asking that you should ask why we had a bongo and a ukulele as well.)

Then there was the strange case of 'The Division Bill'. As its the case in long trips, people pay for one another, and then they pay back, here in one particular McD bill division, all of us ended paying for our food and then as return change somehow managed to get all our money back. Who actually paid that night? The mystery remains unsolved.
Perhaps we forgot about it when we withnessed a full blown back alley brawl - totally bollywood style punching and kicking. All in front of a bar where we went to get ourselves a few beer cans. We thought it wise to be back on our 12.40 ki last local (apparently there was no 1.40 ki last local as a not so popular movie had me believing).
Local train traveling had become a habit on the first day itself. We usually escaped the dreaded crowd except on the way back from Boriveli on the last day. We literally hung out from the door until Dadar. 
All things done and dusted, this one phrase still remains fresh to the day. Often, when one of us knows that he had too much to drink, the following words would take form:
'Agla Station: Bhandup'

Rights to exaggeration and bragging reserved.
Its not how it happened; its how you remember it.
No characterisation intended.
Data and information may have been skewed to suit the storyline.
Everything is relative to your perspective.

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