Thursday, January 28, 2010

MaGiC FrOM ThE MuGgLE

I've been toying with the idea of this blog for quite sometime, but there's this thing to writing I can never really understand. You know your neurons are done convincing you to realize you have something to write about, and you're on pins and needles about letting the process happen. The characteristic verve swings in and you're onto to it; oh yes! The ride is about to begin! And then it doesn't take long for the anticlimax to set in because of that stupid block somewhere in your system. Aw, search me! The thing that pumped up the excitement is blown up in smoke, and here I am at the very same point, not because I've come one full circle but because I haven't started at all. But I'm happy I decided to write about this after all. When I think about it, even thinking about writing makes me happy. There's this guy I've been wanting to write about since forever, and I haven't the foggiest as to why I let that thought gather considerble dust all the while. Not that nobody has, because A.R.Rahman has been around for ages and he gives writers, wannabe writers, journalists and the press guys that definitive push to put in writing his just out album, award or a concert. I grew up listening to his albums, and I'd ascribe my almost zilch knowledge of other kinds of music to him. There's something about his music that words cannot explain, primarily because it's elusive, and more so because it keeps growing on you indefinitely. Each time I listen to his songs I get this elated feeling that escapes me before I can define it. I haven't come across anything as evasive as his music, one that reveals a different colour and layer from it's depths each time you go back to it. I don't distinguish his songs from melody or foot tapping or whatever; to me they're all the same, crafted and branded with the most delectable sound that makes me so freaking ecstatic. I've always felt there was never an evolution for him, because he started off with one of his career's best. There are some albums of his that have sadly not been given the due recognition and appreciation they ought to have received, and some of them are my favorites- Tehzeeb, Meenaxi, Bose-The Forgotten Hero, The Legend of Bhagat Singh, Yuvraaj and so many more. His music is of the kind that gives a damn for mundane conventions, takes listeners to rapturous highs and promises to never drift an inch off them until it is satiated with the repetitive plays it so rightfully deserves. I can imagine this grandmother vehemently scoffing at contemporaries, and passionately clinging on to the music from the 90's and the coupla decades that followed, unwilling to let go because the magic simply refused to fade away and it's tag enduringly carried the name A.R.Rahman. When that time comes, I'd still keep searching those words I am at a loss for, right now.