a rough layout...

Not long back i was in search of doing something creative, so penned down this superficial incomplete story. as one may read it, they'll find that i've drawn some inspiration from the movie rock on!! and mixing it with some love aspects and my knowledge of indian classical music...i find the last paragraph quite pathetic and i am trying to refine it.....the story is still incomplete...post in your comments....

He was still feeling drowsy and day dreaming as he woke up after a short sleep. This had been Sid’s routine since the day he came to Mumbai. It was hard for him to give up the frills he got in Delhi living in a bungalow situated in a posh locality. But he has been living in Mumbai or Bombay (the name which he prefers more) since past two years adapting to the change quite fast. It was 10am in the morning, his mind was still occupied and immersed in the tunes of raga kirwani, as if he was still playing his guitar and trying to give western tunes a classical touch. Raga kirwani to the western ears is the harmonic minor scale, a matter of interest for most of the HCM maestros interested in fusion music. He had forgotten to switch off his music player which was lying amidst the plethora of records which he had collected all these years. It was still playing the recital by his favorite artist Ustad Rashid khan sahib

“Tore bina mohe chain nahi brij ke nand lal…………… “ .

He felt closer to god while listening to Indian classical music then visiting a shrine and offering prayer to God which he would seldom do. He got a divine feeling every time he listened to classical music, understanding each and every nuance and harkat (movement) by the artist pertaining to the values of the raga very well. He felt as if he transcended all the boundaries of time and moved to a world of notes where he could conjure an image of the thought put forward by the verses. Be it radha’s suffering due to the biraha(separation) from lord Krishna or dadur’s (frog) galloping in the monsoon season, every notion made him feel divine. His bachelor’s at the saint Stephen’s college in Delhi had helped him a lot in meeting people of his interest, music. He would regularly attend concerts at the India habitat centre and other prominent places and remain attuned to the new developments in the field of classical music.

His room partner Rohan who was a student at the Sir J.J School of arts had not showed up since past two days but Sid didn’t care to call him as was sure that he must have ventured into some sinister activity again. He enjoyed the time he spend alone at his flat with the sea shore in the front and books to read. He remembered how he had saved rohan from a doping racket last year, when police had raided a suburban farm house in Pune. This was the India’s new youth, smoking and doping, a generation awakened.

Sid really had a tiresome session yesterday night at his friend’s studio gallop. He had not slept for past two days, so coming back home at 5am he went to bed without much ado. But as he woke up he suddenly realized “Aah“He had to call jenny in the morning.

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He helped himself with a cup of coffee and sat on a charpoy placed at a corner of his well furnished room. He was not a mobile freak and would often search for his mobile around his place. He checked the voice messages:-

“Hello, this is Jenny here. Waited a long for your call, but……anyways I have got your answer, Best of luck to you.”

He felt a deep inside his heart, tears rolled down his cheeks and he closed his deep blue eyes as if he was going back in a yesteryear’s dream. How beautiful it was to be with her!! The quality time they spent together at Uncle Joseph’s farmhouse last summer. He suddenly realized something and with a deep sigh tapped his feet and went across to put the television on. He turned on to news; it was jenny’s first day as a news reader at a local news channel stationed few streets away. There came she, live on a national television as beautiful as ever and her charisma had flourished. Her hair was cut short but still she looked amazing. He gave way to his whims and was back in time. He got nostalgic getting a glimpse of her after such a long time. But regaining his sense, he realized his decision “I won’t budge”.

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“Where the hell are you? “asked Asim. He has known Asim, a techno geek and a recluse since past three years, meeting for the first time at a college competition in Delhi where both of them were part of different bands. Asim earns his living by composing jingles and music for short films at his studio gallop. Sid jumped of his bed to realize it was 2 pm in the afternoon and he had failed to turn up on time for his session again. He got ready and left a message for his missing room mate. Sid was a band member of “raga to rock” since he came to Bombay. The band was influenced by the music of Pink Floyd and the fusion acts of the group like Shakti and tabla beat science both being niche players. Sid’s band played rock ballads based in classical without undermining the nuances of psychedelic rock. They focused on blending traditional Indian styles of music with rock music. After a couple lounge acts and stage shows they were immerging as a popular rock band in the Mumbai rock scene. They called themselves a “psychedelic fusion rock band”.

He reached the studio at ten past four. He moved silently across the corridor and entered the studio, he felt as if he suddenly went deaf. He took his guitar before anyone could react. He was an excellent guitar player with a prowess over flamenco style. Asim took the lead vocals, a trained classical singer and guitarist. His friends called him the new age “curt cobain”. Sameer took the drums and Aaron on the bass guitar. They still needed a full time guitarist.

The other three had already started working on their last night’s composition written by Sameer. Sameer was a six feet tall robust guy with a protruding nose and long hair. He has been writing poetry since his days at Xavier’s, where he met Asim. This one was written for his last girlfriend who broke off with him after hearing the tails of his amorous adventures. He looked elegant in his usual gear, a Levis jeans and a khadi kurta. This was becoming an alternative fashion in metro cities.

“Start from the eighth bar and sameer you be alert don’t miss the train…” called asim. After a three hour long session they suspended for a tea break and went to the nukkad.

“So, Sid you lookin quite numb today, any problem?” inquired asim. Everyone was eager to know about his new stand on his relationship with jenny. “Cut it off guys, I haven’t slept a wink since past two days and have been surviving on cups of tea and Benson….” He bluffed. “Come on dude call jenny and tell her sorry, after all it was your mistake. Kaka ek aur cup….” demanded Aaron, gulping his last bit of tea.

Sid was in grade 3 when his school teacher first realized his inclination towards music. His parents anticipated his urges and put him in a local music school where they taught him guitar. Being a fast learner, he learnt scales faster then his batch mates and started playing Hindi songs on his guitar. Guitar wasn’t a common instrument those days amongst the youngsters. It was for the elite people who wanted to add one jazzier element to their repertoire. Money was never a matter of thought for Sid but he was always respected the power money.