Fireflies
Coorg gave an entirely different meaning to the phrase: "the woods are lovely, dark and deep..." The estate where we were staying had a most picturesque stream flowing through it, flanked on both sides by dense foliage laced with loads of insects - that failed to terrify. Quite the contrary, actually. And it was not a pathetic excuse of a stream, which some hyped-up things turn out to be, but a completely respectable and impressively long one, cutting across the estate, sometimes rapidly and sometimes lazily.
It reminded me of our weekend excursions in Kashmir, where there was invariably a stream (or at least a body of water) involved - be it in the kids' determined attempt to cross it, or in dishwashing. The water in Coorg was muddier than in Kashmir, as I remarked at the time, resulting in my being told that comparing everything to Kashmir is not good for one's health. What can I do? It's in my blood.
Anyway, if the forest was lush and attractive in the day, it was positively enchanting at night. Walking through a trail along the stream, with the sounds of the water in the background, the forest looked out of a fairytale. There were fireflies dispersed all around, which only added to the magical feeling. Neither can I describe in words, nor do I have a picture to show you of that scene. Suffice it to say that it seemed that in that utter darkness I was in another world completely, where Gollum, the evil one, could have crept up and slipped away with her.
Whole lotta heartbreak
So Led Zeppelin just announced that they are reuniting for what will most probably be their last gig together, and the ticket website has already crashed. On myriad websites we see dire warnings dissuading people from buying tickets from internet auctions sites, as they will be deemed invalid -- the reason being that this will not be 'fair.'Bollocks, I say. Why cannot the tickets be auctioned? Aren't they entities, like any other product? If I can buy a painting at an auction, why not a ticket? It's not like anyone is stuffing it down my throat -- I am making the decision sanely, with all my senses, not under the influence of any intoxicating agent (I swear!) to maybe overpay for this stairway to heaven.I may sound like 'daddy's rich girl' (as someone remarked), but I stand by my viewpoint. I say let the tickets be auctioned! And give us poor folks a chance at watching the Gods make heavenly music out of nothing.
Bono on Pavarotti
Read Bono's tribute to Pavarotti here.
What do I care about opera?
Pavarotti died today and I am sad. That name is associated with one of the most amazing and haunting songs I have ever heard in my life – Miss Sarajevo – that was a collaboration between U2 and the Italian tenor. I guess if it wasn’t in the guise of a popular music number I would never have got to experience the wonder of Pavarotti’s voice. But the first time I listened to Miss Sarajevo, I was smitten with this bulky, smiling, bearded singer who had a deep, soul-touching voice.
Pavarotti is reported to have said: “We've reached 1.5 billion people with opera. If you want to use the word commercial, or something more derogatory, we don't care. Use whatever you want."
Well said, and may you always rest in peace.
P.S. This is Miss Sarajevo, with the Italian parts translated. There could not be a more haunting or tear-inducing song.
(Bono)
Is there a time for keeping your distanceA time to turn your eyes awayIs there a time for keeping your head downFor getting on with your dayIs there a time for kohl and lipstickA time for curling hairIs there a time for high street shoppingTo find the right dress to wear Here she comesHeads turn aroundHere she comesTo take her crown Is there a time to run for coverA time for kiss and tellIs there a time for different coloursDifferent names you find it hard to spell Is there a time for first communionA time for East SeventeenIs there a time to turn to MeccaIs there time to be a beauty queenHere she comesBeauty plays the clownHere she comesSurreal in her crown (Pavarotti)Dici che il fiumeTrova la via al mareE come il fiumeGiungerai a meOltre i confiniE le terre assetateDici che come fiumeCome fiume...L'amore giungeràL'amore...E non so più pregareE nell'amore non so più sperareE quell'amore non so più aspettare[Translation of the above]
You say that the riverfinds the way to the seaand like the riveryou will come to mebeyond the bordersand the dry landsyou say that like a riverlike a river...the love will comethe love...And I don't know how to pray anymoreand in love I don't know how to hope anymoreand for that love I don't know how to wait anymore[End of Translation] (Bono)
Is there a time for tying ribbonsA time for Christmas treesIs there a time for laying tablesAnd the night is set to freeze
Released
No longing
For things old or new
No wistful reveries
No blanked-out thinking…
So this is what it feels like
To be at peace
Just point me to a destination
And have me make my way there
That is enough
To make my troubles disappear.