In 1992, as I was about to embark on a 24-hour train journey to seek admission in an engineering college in Chennai, a kind friend gave me his threadbare walkman and a cassette tape of Roja.
‘But I don’t listen to Tamil music,’ I told him haughtily.
‘Maybe it’s time you did,’ he replied, bidding me adieu.
Throughout that journey, I spent my meagre “train allowance” on batteries. I skipped a meal, endured the shocks that the semi-naked wires the headphone gave me and, to the annoyance of my fellow travellers, insisted on singing tunelessly along with the melody playing between my ears. Two things were happening. One: I was rediscovering Tamil film music. And two: I was discovering the genius of a young debutant composer named A. R. Rahman.
For the next four years, followers of Bollywood heard the hand-me-down versions of Rahman’s compositions while I smugly enjoyed the pristine Tamil versions of the same songs. All that changed in 1995 with the release of Rangeela.
And now, we finally have the maestro's story from his own mouth, thanks to a newly released book titled A. R. Rahman: The spirit of music by Nasreen Munni Kabir.
Here's my review of the book on Dawn:
Tracking the cosmic rhythm
If you're a Rahman fan too, hark back!
Showing posts with label book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book. Show all posts
Friday, June 10, 2011
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Mrs Craddock was nice
Keeping me company these past couple of weeks was one of William Somerset Maugham's lesser known novels - Mrs Craddock.
If you are a keen reader of Maugham, you'll realize by the third page that this is an early work of a writer still seeking his artistic voice. It's more verbose and stylistically less accomplished. It uses unpalatable writing techniques to offer insights into the human psyche - Maugham's biggest strength in later years.
But it's still the work of a master. Because by Page 30, the characters have gripped you and you feel compelled to read through the placid plot.
I especially loved this quote in chapter 30: "I've learned by long experience that people generally keep their vices to themselves, but insist on throwing their virtues in your face."
Now how true is that? The racuous crusaders of today - me included - can benefit from mulling over these words. And doesn't the true angel seal her lips to brighten her halo?
P.S: For those of my dear readers who haven't read Maugham, I have a question: do you think breathing is synonymous with living? It isn't. And you haven't lived till you've read The Moon and Sixpence. Read it to be inspired. And to know that Howard Roark - Ayn Rand's unforgettable character from the novel The Fountainhead - had a predecessor. His name was Charles Strickland.
If you are a keen reader of Maugham, you'll realize by the third page that this is an early work of a writer still seeking his artistic voice. It's more verbose and stylistically less accomplished. It uses unpalatable writing techniques to offer insights into the human psyche - Maugham's biggest strength in later years.
But it's still the work of a master. Because by Page 30, the characters have gripped you and you feel compelled to read through the placid plot.
I especially loved this quote in chapter 30: "I've learned by long experience that people generally keep their vices to themselves, but insist on throwing their virtues in your face."
Now how true is that? The racuous crusaders of today - me included - can benefit from mulling over these words. And doesn't the true angel seal her lips to brighten her halo?
P.S: For those of my dear readers who haven't read Maugham, I have a question: do you think breathing is synonymous with living? It isn't. And you haven't lived till you've read The Moon and Sixpence. Read it to be inspired. And to know that Howard Roark - Ayn Rand's unforgettable character from the novel The Fountainhead - had a predecessor. His name was Charles Strickland.
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