IndigOranges

Midweek in Bangalore. Midweek evening rush hour to be precise. Midweek evening rush hour mega madness on museum road to be doubly precise. I wore thin my leather sandals, struck up back slapping conversations with total strangers, all for what? One Extra Pass. By zeus, the trials and tribulations one has to endure for a live concert. But then again, this wasn't just some coked out grandpa rocker concert, this was something else. Personally, live concerts are up there with free first day first show tickets to the latest rajni release. The experience become even more profound when the performers up there are some of modern India's greatest living musicians. And so it was on a Wednesday evening in Bangalore when the collective talents of five astounding gentlemen had us totally in their spell. Someone could have exploded a laxmi bomb under me and i won't have noticed. The performers were Sivamani, Shankar Mahadevan, Mandolin Srinivas, Selvaganesh and Ustad Zakir Hussain. The

"A shy girl, she smiles a bit awkwardly when she comes on stage, sits at the instrument, and takes a few seconds to concentrate. In that short time, her face changes - the girl becomes an artist. Then she plays and the strings thunder, whistle, sing. Colors changes, from tinkling bells to murmuring water, from intimate whispering to loud voices. Her fingers dance on the strings in an unearthly fashion, sliding, plucking. The audience was spellbound." - BRABANTS DAGLAD (The Netherlands) That is how she was described by a leading journalist from her country, which sums up this extraordinary performers talent quite succintly. If I could put two cherub wings on her back and put her on a cloud with her harp, she won’t have looked out of place in a assembly of angels. That's Gwyneth Wentink for you, harp player extraordinaire. 27 years old, tall, slim and blessed with a natural grace seen only in ballet dancers. She is a harp artiste from the Netherlands, internationally acclai

A chilly morning at my regular tea shop. The place where they proudly display the sign ‘ Idle and Dosa Ready ’. That got me thinking, so they have a 'idle' person there, and what form of service could a idle person perform for someone who walks in all hungry and famished is what I would like to know. Maybe ‘idle’ could press the customers' legs or fan his sweat away while awaits his lunch, but then he won't be idle if he does that, will he? Some one corrected it a week later. Now it reads " Idly and Dosa Ready ". a dosa made lethargically. I love a place where they make your food with love and slowness. Love is better when it is slow and gradual.wot? Anyway, I am standing there gurgling on my second cuppa of coffee, the gent behind the counter asks me if I understand tamil – considering that I spent 6 eventful years in the land of Ranjikant, and doubly considering that my ability to absorb other languages is equivalent to finding a bollywood superstar admitti

art that imitates Life..or is it the other way round? What's a good blog without space for the writer to blow his own trumpet? And blowing one's own gilded trumpet being the sole reason that blogs exist for, this here are some of my scribbles and doodles and my attempts at watercolors that i am told are presentable to the world. Do let me know what you think. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Here are some the latest ones, results of hours spent at coffee shops over endless cups of hot chocolate. The start of good beginnings. Ganesha here, is the scribe assisting Vyasa in writing down the Mahabharat. Ganesha is said to have agreed to write it only on the condition that Vyasa never pause in his recitation. Vyasa agreed, provided Ganesha took the time to understand what was said before writing it down. This one was created in the leafy environs of the Krishna temple in Indiranagar, Bangalore. Glory be to our religion that allows for such