Sounds

I’ve been doing certain reviews of my ‘novel’ and have managed to sharpen the story to a great extent, and make it more funny and sarcastic. Kind of based on my own experiences in the past few months. Mainly the whole bits of realization, meaning, sorrow, content and the hilarity of people not believing you when you tell them the truth. I feel rather good about it.

One of those incidents occurred just a few days ago. I was driving a couple of friends home, and they were singing these outdated blues, which in reality are very nice – the way they sung it made bagpipes sound like the most melodious instrument ever. I turned on the radio volume quite loud when I heard Alice Cooper’s Poison, and it being one of my favourite songs I began to hum along. They didn’t know the words so they shut up and let me sing. I kind of got lost in the music <and traffic> that I didn’t even realize someone had plugged in my iPod and I was singing 7 Days to the Wolves loud and clear. It took me a good few songs to realize that they were quite. I turned around to face them and three pairs of eyes were goggling at me. “You can sing,” one of my friends said in awe. He sounded so shocked I was offended. In that moment of offense taking I blurted out the following words, “Why the hell can’t you get the fact that I might be capable of producing sound that is pleasant to hear, and is not noise!” Now that has become the definition of ‘my singing’ – my ability to produce pleasant sound. And that is also one of the lines I have managed to put into my book. In a different context but expressed in almost the same way. Dealing with the production of sound in sync with song. Silly but true. <I’m not a bad singer!! Honest!! Trained in Carnatic music for over ten years AND been part of choirs all through my educative years! So I actually sound good >

I’ve gone back to the roots. The singing roots. And after months of not exactly having sung with power in my voice, I had the marvellous opportunity of doing so when we visited our new house last weekend. A very bright and beautiful villa like structure set in the quite, serene interiors of an area I’ve never heard of but right opposite the National Artificial Intelligence and Robotics offices. I thought I would feel terrible about vacating a house where two generations of my family have lived…I do…Because every bit of peeling paint, every nail, every door knob, every tap, every window, every piece of wood, hold a memory. Some distinct event which can be associated with it in the thirty five years my family has been here. But this new place… it is good too – didn’t stop any of us from comparing the two places. Anyway, I thought I’d feel bad about moving – but when I realized that they weren’t planning to see the place, just rent it out, I felt strangely elated. We could still call it ours. More on that later, but the singing for now. So the new place is brightly lit with a total of four sets of French doors on two floors <my cousin and I get our own sit out on the first floor overlooking the street!!> I was standing on the first floor and looking down into the vast living room, while the rest of my family were touring the garden. I began to sing. The acoustics of the house are brilliant, I tell you. Perfect! The echoing made my song sound different and added a life to it! I used the railings, walls and floor as my drum kit. I even went on to the terrace singing. Loudly! I felt so…so different, so alive! Singing with my full strength, unrestrained, uncontained. I let it out. I don’t remember what songs I sang, but I’m sure it had the songs from bands I’ve taken to mentioning of late in almost all my posts now. I felt really good about myself. I returned home to find a nice FM transmitter for my iPod…makes my life all the more better!! So it’s just books, song and German for me For now. I’m producing sound