किरदारों के नाम नहीं होते

This particular poem is very close to me and those who know me well, will be able to make out 'WHY'. I wrote this after my encounter with Gulzar and we exchanged a few incidents. It is a surprising fact that Gulzar, today is not merely a name that instantly strikes the image of one of the most simplest men, dressed in white Kurta Pyjama, and would spell poetry even as he speaks. Gulzar for me, is an emotion that runs through me, has been running through me and inspired me push my own limits when it comes to writing. This poem is my dedication to him for the difference he has caused to my life over the years and I am sure he will continue to do so.

काफी दूर निकल आया था मैं, शायद
पहले तो यह शहर यहाँ नहीं था
लोग मीलो दूर से पत्थर ला रहे थे
और एक एक करके कब्र अपनी सजा रहे थे
उन्ही पत्थरो से बना था यह शहर , शायद

अजीब लोग बसा करते हैं यहाँ पर
सिर्फ चेहरे हैं कुछ खोये से
बीतें किस्सों में, कल के हिस्सों में
कितनी सदियों के जागे से हैं यह
चेहरे हैं शायद, सिर्फ चेहरे ही होंगे, क्यूंकि
किरदारों के नाम नहीं होते

कोई कहीं रात भर समुन्दर के किनारे
आसमान से चाँद की जिद करता होगा.
एक ऊँची बिल्डिंग की छत पर चढ़ कर सोचता,
की वो उसके कुछ और करीब होगा.
नाम में क्या हैं, धर्म किसे पता हैं
किरदारों की कोई पहचान नहीं होती.

नज़र भी कमज़ोर हैं शायद
कितनी बार सहिलो के पार देखा होगा उसने
अपनी कब्र के लिए मीलो दूर पड़े पत्थरो को देखा उसने
सीने में दफ़न होते ख्वाब न देख पाया वो
अक्स अपना पानी में देख कर लग गया काम पर
एक एक कर के पत्थर ला कर
कब्र अपनी सजाने में, शहर यह बनाने में
उन्ही पत्थरो से बना था यह शहर , शायद

Copyright: Piyush Singh 2009-2010

www.piyushsingh.com

(Any reproduction in any form without the prior permission of the author is strictly prohibited)

Bombay Vs. Mumbai : Death of a City

It’s a weird place and I am referring to Bombay. Yeah, for now I am not going to call it Mumbai. I had fond associations with this place and I always wanted to be here until recently, a months ago, I realized that it’s not mine, not any more since I wasn’t born here and I don’t speak Marathi. I belong to another part of the nation that apparently lives on Mumbai, in Mumbai and in the future, for Mumbai.

It hardly matters that after spending about five years in this city, would I chose to stay here longer or would pack my bags and go back to the part of the nation that is meant for North Indians without any Marathi infiltration? Without a second thought, I will choose to get back to my people shattering the illusion I have created around me, that someday I will be settled in Bombay, watching the silent and at times turbulent sea from my window of a posh apartment because the place I wished to be in was Bombay, not Mumbai. Now unfortunately, Mumbai has got nothing to do with Mumba Devi anymore, it is about a political issue with hundreds of Dogs tossing it around like a bone and trying to mark their territories in their usual way.

I really feel sorry for Karan Johar that he has to apologise to someone as unimportant and irrelevant as Raj Thackrey of all the people to get his film Wake Up Sid screened across the entire state without any disruptions. Raj’s party people are busy to take on the Bombay Film Industry playing the role of Parallel Censor. Isn’t it contempt of the way a nation functions? The members of the Censor Board seem to have taken it too lightly but this statement by MNS puts up a big question mark on their efficiency as well as, authority and who is at the receiving end – Bollywood, aka 'Bombay Film Industry', Mr. Thackrey.

It is too disappointing a fact that Bollywood is not at all a collective forum. Wish they would have been united through this situation and showed at least of 5% of courage that they try to portray in their movies. It is strangely disheartening that how a goon, with a bunch of side kicks and an apparent support of the natives, forces an icon of the multi million film industry to fall on his knees and apologise.

Hats off to Aditya Birla for the wonderful Idea ad campaign. Did I see some raised eyebrows? Oh, I am talking about the campaign ‘Mera Number Mumbai Ka to Main Mumbai Ka’. It ran across all the news papers and TV channels not long ago. Though, not one of the most creative ones, I enjoyed each and every one of the commercials because it showed the way how a goon should be treated for sabotaging a nation’s vision. The campaign looked Raj, right in the eyes and said “Oh is it Mr. Raj? Do whatever you feel like. I am not scared of you and you can’t do anything to me, even with all your might!”

In a recent interview with Rajdeep Sardesai on CNN IBN, I saw him again, spitting venom like a black deadly cobra and I hated his aggressiveness for some incompetent ideologies of his. Apparently he was justifying his unofficial precedent that everyone should speak Marathi instead of Hindi and the logic he gave sent my blood pressure shooting through the roof. He mentioned that if Dr. Kalam, being the president never addressed the nation in Hindi and used English then there is no reason why can’t he use Marathi as his scepter? Surprisingly, I can’t even visualise any lines of comparison between Dr. Kalam and Raj Thackrey. May be because, they have such contrasting personalities.

I believe in the years to come, we will experience a civil war, or even worse we might even need Tourist Visas or Work Permit to step into Maharashtra. I always thought that the courage showed by NSG commandos during the Mumbai Terror haul last year would wash this hatred away from his blackened heart, but the power hungry Raj is to busy dreaming about the throne that he simply overlooked a nations effort saving his Mumbai and Marathi Manoos.

Elections and voting has got nothing in common. It is true you get choices, but you get to chose only from the Worse or Bad and democracy actually makes it often easier for people like these to get in power. I wish that the power to choose should be accompanied by the power to bring the person off his throne.

I live in an MNS dominated area and the scenes of the chaos that these people created just to see the names of stores written in Marathi are still etched fresh in my mind. The mere thought of going for a leisurely walk strangulates me. I don’t feel a part of this world, my building, their rituals and their celebrations. The Ganpati that I worship at my home in Diwali seems so different from the Ganpati that is worshipped in Maharashtra during the festival and it often reinforces the view that modern day politicians are so strong to have created a divide and a rift in religion and spirituality while they laugh their way off to the over increasing assets.

I am not of the breed often known as ‘literature hound’ but I lived with the saying, “What’s in a Name?”, wish Shakespeare have been a mumbaikar to save this city from another chaos. The name theory makes me more cautious everytime I would ask for a railway ticket over the ticket counter. You never know, the moment I ask, “Bhaiya, ek VT (instead of CST) return dena” and the guy from behind the counter would jump out of the window to beat the black and blue out of me. I don’t know if it might actually happen but Mr. Thackrey made me believe, in all possibility, it just could.

Looking closely at it, or coming to terms with it, it is not only me who got his illusion shattered. There are many others strangled in the city that once used to be the city of dreams and now is the city of dreaded nightmares for someone who doesn’t belong here. And, these nightmares will haunt you, everytime you go for grocery shopping, pay the technically correct fare to rickshaw wallah, come late to your flat(homes never exist here), ask for tickets, get in a bus and so on and so forth.

Piyush Singh

http://www.piyushsingh.com/

Copyrights: Piyush Singh/ www.piyushsingh.com

Image Credits: Respective Websites

Wake Up Sid - My Take

One of the many conclusions that came out after watching Wake Up Sid is that, 'Ranbeer can act!' After seeing his last movie, Bachna Ae Haseeno, it kind of got into me that this chap is just another star son and probably won’t much of an actor. He for sure did turn the tables around and portrayed the ever exploited character of Indian youth with a new perspective and I must say, it didn’t look the usual stereotype, err… okay, at times he did but this was all with a fresh appeal.

The script has been nicely woven and the writer – director Ayan must be complimented with the efforts he puts in. He took the story taking to a new level. The movie revolves around the usual stuff, probably seen many times in the history of Indian cinema (C’mon, every movie has a clueless youngster, Dil Chahta Hain had, Lakshya had, Jane Tu Ya Jane Na had and they all did great).

The cliché breaking stint goes directly in the favour of the director and his wonderful rendition of the story that has been ringing in your sub conscious for a long time now. Oh, I forgot to mention, the performances by Ranbeer, Konkona, Anupoam Kher and Supriya Pathak are equally responsible for setting it a class apart.

The movie that revolves around a story of a clueless youngster (much like the ones from the trio of DCH) can boast about a gripping first half and you just can’t help yourself getting engrossed. The first half is pretty balanced with some great comic punches and fresh dialogues. Konkona plays an aspiring writer who comes down to Bombay (err… ‘Mumbai’, damn my freedom of speech) looks easy on the screen. It is because of her superb acting that once often forgets the fact that he is just watching a movie.

The second half is comparatively of a slightly lower quality as compared to the first. The comic punches miss out on the intensity and the frequency but that’s when the scenes that may cause a tear or two take over. The end could have been better and I wish there was more weight and logic to the long dialect of that of Konkana’s towards the end. I personally realized the movie ended too abruptly and I wish it didn’t ended so soon.

The father son interactions look nothing less than real and everyone could relate to the sequences where in Anupam Kher delivers one of its best as a successful business man and a defeated father. Surpiya Pathak is one fine actor and she reinforces the same portraying her character of a wannabe English speaking mom just in attempt to be closer to his son. I seriously think that no one could have carried off that role as well as she did.

Anil Mehta as a cinematographer did a brilliant job and some of the frames are captivating. The cinematographer actually enhances the beauty of the movie ten folds and backs up the director beautifully lending credibility and a bunch of marvels to the movie.

Music is once point where the movie seems to be lagging behind. You hardly notice the songs that were played in the first half because they didn’t appear to be even half as strong as the movie’s first half. Though, Wake Up Sid, the title track is an exception (the reason being, it was played during the opening titles) and is nicely rendered by Shankar Mahadevan. One can’t deny the fact that Iktara is a winner all the way and it is the only song other than the title song that stays with you, even after the movie is over.

The music is splendid in isolation but when put in the music, it just couldn’t meet my exception. I would rate music as 4.5 out of if the movie’s music is all what I had got. The lyrics are nice and fresh and it was great to see Javed Akhtar attempting songs like Life is Crazy. One major flaw with the background score is that it often gives you the impression of the song Maa (of Taarein Zameen Par) being played, I agree its SEL’s (Shankar, Ehsaan and Loy) best but the audience is not much in favour of repetitions. The background score at other instances wasn’t that impressive either but it picked up towards the end of the movie.

All in all, Wake Up Sid is made up of all small incidents and you just need to give into it rather than being critical to analyse or compare it with the previous versions of the same story. In order to enjoy the movie, it is advisable that you go with close friends, who share the desire to ‘watch’ with you rather than looking it as a weekend getaway and would go to any extent making fun of the intense situations in the movie. Chose your companion for this movie wisely and you it will be worthwhile.

I would rather give it 4 out of 5 and would recommend watching it for sure. It is something that should top the list of the movies-to-watch this week. I am yet to see Acid Factory (it releases next week) while Do Knot Disturb is typically David Dhavan. You never know, you may get inspired (or steal in ideas) in more than one way. So, try it!

Piyush Singh

www.piyushsingh.com

Copyrights: Piyush Singh - 2009-2010

Image Courtsey: Respective Websites

Tale of A Rock Band from Lucknow

In my life so far, I have confronted many bands and been at the managerial end of a few. Things are different for a band that is based in a city like Lucknow and others that are based in metros like Mumbai and all.

When I was a kid, when music meant nothing more to me than just something you would listen to while you are travelling long distances of whatever your car stereo caters. As I grew up, there was a great paradigm shift and I realized agrreing to the fact that it is the greatest platform to score with chicks and get laid. This view of mine was reinforced when I really came to know some of Lucknow’s musicians.

Over the span of past 4 years, the ones I get to interact with can’t even define genres precisely, I don’t mean to say ‘I can’ but I have got a decent number of views to back up my point. And it is rather disheartening to see in an online forum for a Rock Competition, to announce its entry criteria as “Only Rock Bands” and then there was a post by the same admin looking forward to a genreless band to participate and grace the occasion.

To be frank, I am not the best of musicians, I am not even the tiniest bit of the talent I have been with but, there are times I feel saddened by the fact that there exists an altogether different category of musicians who play with music (mind it ‘play with music’) just to satisfy their alter self egos.

This blog, is about one such band I used to manage about a year back or so. We ended up on very bad lines and I won’t say all the fault was theirs. We both made mistakes. Being from a communication design background, I somehow had a feeling that everything should point in one direction and they quite didn’t second my views. I never charged them for any of my services. I made their logo, designed their graphic, got those contacts and clicked their profile picture. (not The Works, they are nicer fellows, at least they give credits)

I realized when I should, that the band was about lies, lies, lies and some more of lies. It is rather interesting to see that how the other three innocent members of the band had to stand with two culprits. I was in mood to mend my ties with this particular band and I just wish the following incident wouldn’t have happened.

While I was with one of the leading news papers, in Lucknow, these guys drove all the way to catch me and to tell me that they are the first rock band (a quick word: they have always told me that they don’t follow genres, or else they wouldn’t have sang songs like Mauja hi Mauja on stage) in city to recorded ‘LIVE’ (quite an oxymoron, isn’t it? Either you can be recorded or you can be LIVE, not both! ) I asked them to mail me a release and since my bosses were a little strict, I decided to cross check the facts mentioned in the press brief by them, 9 out of 10 facts were tampered with. I wrote a mail back stating those facts, and incidentally these guys manage to get it out in the paper I was working with.

If it would have been just the article, it would have been fine with me, but the picture that was carried along with the article was clicked by me, without my permission and without credits with my ‘Copyright Notice’ being mercilessly scraped off. There was never a bigger insult for me as a photographer or as a person who wanted to help out others. It was still acceptable, if I wouldn’t have told them an year back not to use my photographs for their promotional practices. They ignored.

I was hurt and I was no exception. There were instances that one of the two culprits wanted to chop off one of the three innocents photographs because that fellow, surprisingly an amazing keyboard player was about to leave the band. I pity him. He didn’t deserve that. What was even more surprising is the fact that these two culprits lied on his face more ever threatening me raise my voice against this copyright infringement when they should be the ones apologizing.

I don’t know if I am a good photographer or not, but one of them made me believe that I am not a good photographer, despite everything. I never knew, I could be so weak and let it seep in for a day but then, the next day I realized, if I hadn’t been such a good photographer, why would they let me click them and why the picture that belonged to me was published. The answer seemed pretty clear. I was hurt for a day, and the words he said echoed in my mind.

I am not afraid to take the name of the band I have been talking about throughout, they are known as Soul Rebellions. I remember, I was the first one to write a proper feature on them three years back, the first one and by far the best one to be written on them three years back and I never realize that my articles about them in coming time will speak about their failures instead of their success stories.

As the rumours stay, they are busy  defaming me in the small town named Lucknow and to be honest, it’s not a matter of worry for me. I have lived my dreams and I m fighting this battle being true to my words.

My Life's Biggest Award

Hello All,

Hope everyone is doing good. 3rd August 2009 is a date I would never forget. I would like to thank Ms. Aron, Senior Resident Editor of Hindustan Times Lucknow for giving me a chance to meet the former president of India, Hon'ble Mr. APJ Abdul Kalam. All in all, it was a great day and when he spoke, he had a mesmerizing impact on everyone present. But what followed a day after was indeed the biggest of honours. This is what HE has to say about one of my poems(you may see the poem at the bottom of this note) which is popularly known as Mamma Hold Me.

Dear Piyush,

Really your poem moved my heart and mind. It
is indeed inspiring. Particularly,

"The pain is like an angels call,
I see the smoke,
engulfing everyones life,
Mamma hold me"......

Dear Piyush, these poetic verses of yours are beautiful creation of
the creative mind.

May God Bless you.

Kalam

I remember, whenever Sunny and I meet, or whenever we speak about our songs or future projects, the Oscars seems like our ultimate possession, but let me tell you, this is indeed the biggest of the awards I could ever get in my life. These words by the man himself are more precious to me than even 100 oscars.

About Kalam: Dr. A. P. J. Abdul Kalam, was the eleventh President of India, serving from 2002 to 2007. During his term as The President, he was popularly known as the People's President, and a poll conducted by news channel CNN-IBN named him "India's Best President".

Before his term as India's president, he worked as an aeronautical engineer with DRDO and ISRO. He is popularly known as the Missile Man of India for his work on development of ballistic missile and space rocket technology.. In India he is highly respected as a scientist and as an engineer.

Mamma Hold Me

The promises I
failed to keep.
Now only my eyes,
see me weep.
Tears getting lost,
in the smoke somewhere.
Black burning bodies,
falling here and there.
Mamma hold me,
Please hold me
Mamma hold me,
Please hold me,
Mamma hold me,
Hold me in your arms


I know that I am going to die.
With wasted soul
and never opening eye,
I know that I am going to die.
With wasted soul
and never opening eye,
The pain is like an angels call
I see the smoke,
engulfing everyones life.
Mamma hold me,
Please hold me
Mamma hold me,
Please hold me,
Mamma hold me,
Hold me in your arms


Please ask daddy,
to be brave.
Put mammas child,
on my grave.
Please ask daddy,
to be brave.
Put mammas child,
on my grave.
Look for me in, every child you see.
Kiss their foreheads and,
you can feel me.
Mamma hold me,
Mamma hold me,
Mamma hold me,
Mamma hold me in your arms,
Mamma hold me in your arms,
Mamma hold me in your arms,
Mamma hold me in your arms.

Regards and Wishes

Piyush Singh

Pic Courtsey : Shikha Sharma

Handful of Sky

I am writing this after a long time. Its been a while now and all that I have written was either meant for commercial use or to be used as my status messages on social networking websites like these. This is a poem and keeping our (Especially Sunny's) busy schedules in mind, I don't think that it will ever see the light of the day as a song. And for a change it is good. When I say that I am writing a song, everyone starts expecting more. For now, I would like you to just read it as words framed together in the form of a poem or whatever. In short, it seems like my story and that makes it all the more special to be shared with special people around. Thanks for all the love you have showered on me :)

Looking through the shattered panes
At the forlorn world so real.
Drowning in that sea of time
Searching for that little zeal

The varied hues of the world
That I have been painting.
A step beyond the insane sky
And they say 'I've been dreaming'

I haven't known whats wrong
And what you think is right.
Been living all this while like this
Counting stars through the night.

From where I am, I see the
Scattered beads of rosary on my floor.
Familiar faces wearing indifferent masks
And souls, always craving for more.

Every moment, once in a while
I surface for air to breathe.
Every moment, now and then, I strive
Strive for what I used to be.

Pushing myself way back into time
I feel its all getting in my head.
I try, I try to run and hide and failed
To see the traps that lay ahead.

Now when they gather around me
In black gowns and tears in eye.
I might be dead with eyes shut, But,
Still dreaming for my 'Handful of Sky'

Through the shattered panes
Looking at my 'Handful of Sky'

Been painting all the while
The picture of my 'Handful of Sky'

It may be wrong or may be right
But that's my 'Handful of Sky'

And I Dream for 'Handful of Sky'

Dream for my 'Handful of Sky'

(C) Piyush Singh - 18/04/09

I Need To Be Free

I have been longing for ages
Don't know where I belong
The freedom I wished I had
And the freedom for which I long

Woven out of familiar nightmares
With dreaded memoirs of yesteryears
Looking back across the sea of time
I see the red shroud my nation wears

On my way back to the 'present'
I met some familiar masked souls
Greeting me with their painted smiles
And sharing stories of births and black holes

Now when i take a leap, I dream
Dream of future matched to golden heaps
Staggered lanes across a field of gold
Where a farmer sows what he reaps

In a moment of the mighty hour, I dream
Dream to be in his garden, like a tree
In a world beyond 'give and take'
All I long to be is 'free'

While I wait for those wrinkled hands,
To lead me nto a nation that lives.
I hand pick a hundred dreams for us
Counting the words everyone believes.

Among the million smiles I dream of
I am looking for a million more
While the encaged Golden bird flutters
And sets on a flight of hope.

More than freedom I have
All I long to be is 'free'

In a world so strange
I wish I could be 'Free'


- Piyush Singh
15/08/09