On the surface, it may feel as if I have an attention disorder. Because I never succumb to monotony of life. Even after multiple iterations and trials, I still find it quite un-natural to just give in to a paper cut routine. Well, routines are critical. No matter how much we may disagree, everyone follows a routine. We wake up, do shit, and sleep.
It is the detail of the work I give in to that really brings a sense of purpose, a presence to my existence in a world with a dire lack of meaning.
Creation is the epitome that I consider runs my state of affairs. Genres, media, conformity, popularity seldom seduce me. It is easy for me to get into and easier to cast myself out of an imagination, regardless of connotations and innuendos.
I do struggle to find a pattern, and if something works, it is even more difficult to blend it consistently. The range of experiences that drive me makes me loose my sense of togetherness at times. However, the variation in expression is what keeps me together.
The more I try to keep myself in a box, the harder it is to breathe. It feels like a sin – a violation of some inner divine presence.
The four months in Kerala really changed me. I was challenged to the core. With usual questions for meaning to filling the existential void with nature, I was diligent in approach towards a concrete, sustainable and true identity.
The question – Who am I? turns real sometimes.
In an interview, I was asked if being in nature helps with anxiety and personal issues. It made me realise that the reason I seek tranquility and solitude among trees and rivers and shrubs and rain is that the sudden dearth of distraction and a true sense of detachment brings you even closer to your issues. They are heightened and come exaggerated, sometimes with more than what you can chew. But that is the only way for me.
Watch the clip from the interview below
Doing it slowly and gradually has worked for certain aspects but when it comes to issues, I demand an immediate relief. And not just a symptomatic adjustment, but a fundamental understanding of the problem. In the interview, I realised the reason I seek discomfort is to have my questions and problems presented to me the way they are. No decorations of romance or prestige or privilege, just bare basic needs for amendments.
When in doubt, I go back to the recording of the interview. And it is uncanny, humorous even when you know the past self was wiser, and that his wisdom was his obnoxious blatant stupidity.
Enter Sneham (Music for a Film)
After my initial romance of a ‘rockstar’ died, the questions about what I really wanted to do got deeper and scarier! Playing festivals and in front of people is a nice feeling, but for me it was exhausting. To present myself in front of an audience, a tamasha of how broken I was – the idea is indeed sublime and pure and way beyond a value designation. But it comes at a cost. I can’t tell you what it really costs to be who you are.
Is it worth it? Absolutely! People realise that it is okay to be sad, broken and that there is always a way out; that this too shall pass; that you are not alone!
At times, I felt a subtle disgrace to my being. It is neither egotistical nor does it come from an inflated idea of who I am. But it is a preservation of what makes me a man.
In Castlevania: Symphony of the Night, Dracula in his philosophical, ideological speech at the start defines a man as – “what is a man? A miserable pile of secrets…”
One has to protect themselves. No one is going to come save you, and you should stop waiting. My reason for making music outside the box is essentially a means of saving what little is left of me.
In 2020, I got a call to write and compose music for a South Indian film, and to be fair, it was a dream come true. I wrote immense and immaculately, but because of COVID and some personal reasons, the project was scrapped. It doesn’t matter if it happened or not, but I discovered something precious about myself.
Sneham in Malayalam means love. And this song is one among the numerous themes and compositions.
The picture was taken at a campsite in Western Ghats where I had the fortune of spending few months in silence. I also re-discovered that I can fall in love and that I cannot fall in love.
Listen to the theme and do let me know if you felt something. I will leave you with a quote from Rita Mae Brown, writer of Rubyfruit Jungle.