Little Broken Hearts: of pain, revenge and strength

Revenge is, as they say, best served cold. Thus, the icy cool and calculated revenge hinted in “Happy Pills” by Norah Jones from her latest album released this May is a refreshing change from the slow serenade often associated with her. She teases and almost reaches darkness with her words and strong overtones.

The makeover was long overdue. It started with collaboration with Danger Mouse in “Rome” where she is the fallen heart. Little Broken Hearts is a story of the slow decay of a relationship. “She’s 22”, my personal favorite, has a vengeful and yet vulnerable quality about it.

The songs are refreshingly mature and are perhaps Norah’s best work yet. The electronic jazz-like quality proves she isn’t afraid to venture into unexplored territory. I had never been a fan of Jones for I always thought she lacked variation. The lyrical power of the songs makes you a part of the story at the very first listen. The video of “Happy Pills” is perhaps the best representation of the album. It is sexy, classy and vengeful in every way. The song appears much later though in the evolution of the album. I would suggest listening to the songs in the exact order for they tell a story. A dark one, one of mystery, anger and suppressed rage, the story is pretty simple but the emotion has so many layers to it. One starts to picture the relationship breaking down right in front of you.

“Travelin’ on” speaks of moving on with strength. Each song is symbolic of the emotion you feel starting with the realization of infidelity down to the revenge. The beauty of the story lies in the sexy undertone of slow and calculated revenge. For all those who wrote off Norah Jones as the bore she used be (including me), this one is set to make you sit up and take notice. It’s bold, mature and creative contemporary jazz at its very best.

The video oh "Happy Pills" is what drew me in. I hope it does the same to you. "Miriam" only takes the story  one step further. To me, it's almost shocking someone could write as darkly and get away with it with such class and do a perfect job of it! "All a Dream" is an abrupt ending to the musical but its rhythmic power is enough to hold the song good on its own.

The best thing about the collection is that I could picture a musical right in front of me with each and every song. Poetry, music and fiction all contribute to the freshness of the album. An eternal addition to my collection. Hope it makes it to yours too...

Poetic Injustice

I have often wondered

in this land of nowhere

where do all the poets lay

No one reads what they write

no one cares if they live or die

where do they go

for their thoughts are forever astray

When would our April be

when would people walk past my words

when would they listen to the unheard

I wish for a day when I don't have to pay

the price to be unworthy of a read

I wish for the day they read me like I write

and not just shrug and walk away

Where would a poet lie

but on his grave 

for they chose to hear him sing

Not read his written word

Not one remembers the  book that lay

on dusty shelves that held his dream

Not one to read the parts of his soul

Where would the poets go

in their mind's relentless dark

where would the void be full

Where would the poets go

I know not

for in their rhyme and lack of reason

they are forever in hell. 

The Sunset Club

"I don't want to grow old." Parul said today morning. I, now sit wondering is there any truth to that. Do any of us want to be old and in the twilight of our lives and those who already are there, are they any different from us?
The Sunset Club is a story of three such men, waiting for the end and living in vain glories from yesterday. Khushwant Singh has turned this often autobiographical account into a life lesson for those waiting to live their lives out.
Boota Singh, of course, is the parallel to the author himself. An aging widower drinking to formal carnal glories often dreaming of his own daily excrement. Baig, the medicine man, living a lazy existence in a quaint corner of Old Delhi. Sharma, the virgin pandit, living with his sister and servants.

What really mixes the plot up is that Delhi, my beautiful city, actually is one of the characters of the book. Its seasons are celebrated like festivals and its political climate an oft discussed topic for the three veterans. Clearly, beyond the story lies the layers of characters and how they melt into the city's artistic landscape. The story in itself tells of one year in the lives of these octogenarians and goes back to how their relationships came to in the first place. A light read that I romantically picked up during a journey from Delhi to Mumbai, it perhaps had greater sentimental significance to me than most readers for it tells of a Delhi I have known nothing about.

Would I ever have my own sunset club, I wonder? One where I find random strangers who turn into friends and eventually live out each other's twilights. Or would I be at least a reminisce living in the memories of men who talk of the best and worst loves of their lives?

The Sunset Club makes you want to grow old and live out a life that is worthy of a remembrance.  It scores in its sarcasm and wit and in parts even makes you sentimental. A must read for the Delhi fans, it will either give you a future to dream of in the city or make you sit down with a glass of your favorite scotch and remember the good times!

Three Word Game

Sorrow. Joy. Life
Life. Simple. Happy
Happy. Her. Him
Him. Abuse. Her.
Her. Battered. Used.
Used. Sorrow. Life.

Sorrow. Joy. Life.
Life.Story. End.
End.Blood. Pain.
Pain. Love. Heart.
Heart. Anger. Hell.
Hell. Sorrow. Life.

Sorrow. Joy. Life.
Pain. Pain. Pain
Sorrow. Sorrow. Sorrow
Pain. Pain. Pain
Sorrow. Pain. Death...

P.S: Stop. Pain. Sorrow.
       Stop. Hurt. Life.
       Stop. Domestic. Violence!

A Rose to Edgar

She awakes in a sorry state of night
in deathly hours she waits
even the flowers picked out are black
in a broken wind's gait

Walking by empty streets
winding down the wind and gale
She is perched on a stone at the corner church
seeking out his last trail

At length she halts her lonely heart
for she remembers his veiled Virginia
with memory of morbid sorrow
she wipes out her cold dark tear

When the empty pages beckon
she remembers the walk past the stones
down the dark ally in the early hours
she had walked these stones alone

When the Raven knocks on her door
she knows its time to head back
for it would stay forevermore
while she retraces her tracks

She misses his perfection
and even more so his vacant prose
He was the perfect poet to his muse
She, forever, mourns him with a rose...

P.S: Every year a rose from an unknown visitor was placed on Edgar Allan Poe's grave on his birth anniversary. The poem is dedicated to the "Poe Toasters: :)

You are Nothing!

When the songs they seem

To be singing about you

When the stories

Seem like a reflection

When you know your life

Is scripted by another

When each word on the shelf

Seems to be a joke

When the mirror

Seems to lie

When the four walls

Lock you away

You know then

What you know now

You are a smaller insignificance

Of a bigger whole

The stories they last

Longer than you

The songs they are sang

Faraway in untread lands

You are but a word!

You are…nothing!

House MD: Music, artistry and more..

House MD has bid goodbye, in the most abrupt of seasons. I had stopped following the 8^th Season because it suddenly made very little sense, the development of my favorite character had now become a drag (perhaps happens with most sitcoms). But the one good takeaway I believe every House MD fan would have from the series was the genius of Hugh Laurie. His comic timing, his uncanny persona and his ability to hold on to a show with his single character for 7 seasons was sheer brilliance.

His self deprecating nature helped too, something most people mistake for humility. But for me, it was his music sense that spoke to me. Every season brought with it a soundtrack better than Glee! And Glee is a musical! To a large part, this can be attributed to Laurie himself. His recent album shows us a rare side of his talent. He is beyond just comedy and acting and change of accents. He can sing, play piano and make merry under the New Orleans sun!

Each season soundtrack had songs unheard of from artists and interestingly, for me, they had in some strange coincidence found their way into my playlist before I saw the House MD soundtrack. Dr. House and I share the same music? What an inspiring thought! Most sounds are deeply acoustic and appeal to me mostly because of the poetry hidden in all of them. David Gray’s Babylon, Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah being a few of the geniuses hidden in the soundtracks. Amos Lee’s Colors is another inspiration. Brett Dennen, Bird York: artists I am sure the readers of this blog would have heard nothing of until the mention in this post, were introduced to me by some fortunate accident and have since made it to the show! House is over but the music it left behind will stay with me and so will Hugh Laurie with his incorrigible need to do what’s right!