Bollywood Induced Soliloquies.

One of my friends complained that it’s been two weeks since my last post. Shame on me. I’ve been busy. I’ve been running around. I’ve been….I’m out of excuses. Truth is I had a small case of writer’s block. Actually, in this book for writers I read (well skimmed through) I read that ‘writer’s block’ is just writers being lazy. If you have the talent, then creativity and material are just a step away. Just need to get up off your bum and ‘hone your craft’. Writing, like any other sport, hobby, talent, passion, etc. must be actively practiced if any results wish to be seen. SO here I am practicing…whilst jamming to my much beloved Bollywood music. Speaking of Bollywood *does pseudo-garba/giddha dance* Moving on..

I absolutely adore Indian music. It is as essential to my life as the very air I breathe. I can literally find an Indian song for EVERY mood I’m in. The music never fails to propel me into a world comprised perfectly of melodies, lyrics, and feelings that would be incomplete without each other. The ‘item numbers’ have me unconsciously doing a jig in my seat imaging myself to be the bodacious babe turning heads with my sweet and scintillating hips. The absolutely perfect ‘love songs’ make my heart yearn like a love-struck teenager at my balcony waiting for my true love to whisk me away through the cornfields (we have a lot of those in India) and into the monsoon (because sunsets are so cliche). The ‘broken-heart’ songs make my entire being well with emotion so profound that I can hear the teardrops of pain hit the ground and create cracks in the seemingly smooth and impenetrable surface of love.

A palette of human emotion is achieved by one genre of music; Indian music has the ability to evoke nostalgia, love, hurt, laughter, anger, and excitement.  I can still remember what I was feeling when I hear certain songs that are near and dear to my heart. It’s a mind boggling experience to be in the present moment at one minute, and then to be catapulted to the past and run head on right into frenzied emotions that were thought to be at bay. It’s nostalgia at its finest. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.

As for the supposed ‘writer’s block’…he and the one-eyed-one-horned-flying-purple-people-eater can galavant off into the horizon. I have my music to keep me motivated. So long as words and music surround me, I shall find a way to ramble on about one thing or another that happens to catch my fancy.

 

Words and music =art.

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