My Composition..!

Its been long since I've posted anything in my blog.. The reason being- No Time.. I eventually found little time to compose and upload this song in my blog..

This is "My Version" of the song 'Hey There Delilah' by Plain White T's.. I loved this song the very first time i heard it.. Its a simple song with just a guitar and vocal, but yet so powerful.. Since the original song is with just one instrument, i wanted to listen to it a little different.. So i added some instruments to make it sound my way, and hence "My Version"..

Just to show the difference, I've pasted the link of the original track too (for the ones who haven't heard the song before!).. Hope you will like it.. Please leave your comments..



My Track: [Sajith_Hey There Delilah (My Version)]

Click here to download..


Original Track: [Plain White T's- Hey There Delilah]

Click here to download..


YouTube Video.. !





Please leave your comments..!


-S

Vaarnam Aayiram- Oh Shanthi Guitar Chords.!

*This is posted upon request*

Am-G
Nee endri naanum illai
Am-G
Yen kadhal poyyum illai
Dm-G- -G-Am- -C-
Vazhi engum undhan mugam thaan
Dm-G- -Em-Am- -F-C-
Vali kooda ingey sugam thaan


Am-G
Thodu vaanam sivandhu pogum
Am-G
Tholai thooram kurainthu pogum
Am-F-C-G
Karaigindra nodigalil naan nerungi vanthene
Am-G
Imai unnai piriya maaten
Am-G
thuli dhooram nagara maaten,
Am-F-C-G
Mugam paarka thavikiren yen iniya poongatrey


Dm-C-G
Oh shanti shanti oh shanti
Dm-C-G
Yen uyirai uyirai nee yendhi
Dm-C-G
Yen sendrai sendrai enai neengi
Dm-C-G-C
Naan vanthaen vanthaen unai thedi.. ohhh..


The chords are pretty much the same for the next stanza and chorus.. Enjoy..

Hell Calling.!

Hell Calling is a short film about a boy who smokes marijuana for the first time. The after-effect puts him in delusion and he starts to see, feel and do things that did not actually happen.

Directed and acted by my friend Raj Kumar who has won the Best Actor Award for his short film "Story Of My Library" from Rotary Club, East Coast. His film "Story Of My Library" has been screened in more than 6 International Film Fests. Hell Calling is his third short film. I scored music for this film :).


The movie starts with a guy buying marijuana from a drug dealer. He gets back home, mixes pot with tobacco, and smokes it. He suffers severe after-effect which scares him to death. He tries to do things (like hit on the wall, drink water from bubble top) just to make sure he is still alive. To reduce the activity of the drug, he takes bath which in turn produces more effect. He then takes a book and writes down the "effects of marijuana". Just to differentiate and to show what the boy feels, the director would've shown the boy's view in black and white screen and the actuality in color. By that, we see that the pen he uses to write down will have no ink in it, and also the book he uses to write the effects will have nothing written on it. The effect of the drug makes him feel hallucinated. He gets a call from hell (his phone displays 'Hell Calling..' as caller identity) and wonders what is happening to him. He tries to go back to think what he had done for its cause. Several images cross by and he gets an indefinite idea of what happened. He then attends the call and the movie ends, giving the rest to the audience.



Hell Calling:




Performed by: Raj Kumar.
Directed by: Raj Kumar.
Music by: Sajith.
Edited by: A.S.Dominic.
Produced by: Rajesh.




Please watch the film and leave your comments.



-S

My Composition..!

This is my new composition called "Kanshashka". Now you may wonder what Kanshashka means. Its just Kanda Shashti Kavasam. I just wanted it to sound different. This piece is a remix of Kanda Shahti Kavasam. I hope you will like it. Hear it and please leave your comments.



Click here to download..



YouTube:




Please leave your comments..!


;)
-S

A Weird Day In My Life.!

4/5/09 was a weird day for me. The previous day, I was asked if I was coming to my maternal grandparents’ home which was in Tambaram. I said yes. But I was also said that I should have to drop by some other places before going to my grandparents’. I said yes to it too. It was me, my parents, my aunt (who came from Kerala to stay here till she feels like going back),an uncle (my neighbor), my grandma (paternal grandma), who went. We started at around 9. My father drove the car and it stopped nowhere until it reached Tambaram. I was not said where we were to actually “drop by”. The car took a left from the main road which led to a small street which again had so many other streets, like the branches of a Banyan tree, from which we reached at a place. My mother gave me a cynic look and told me to stay in car while they go and meet the person whom they are to meet. This was the “drop by” they meant. I said I cannot stay in car alone cuz that really irritates me, so I went along. We went into a house which had two floors; The person we were supposed to meet was on the first. There was a huge hall which had a sofa set to the left of the entrance. Left to the sofa set was a room which led to the toilet. We went inside to the hall and we were asked to be seated till he comes. I was wondering on who the “he” might be. I didn’t know. I thought we were in some distant relation’s place that I couldn’t recognize any of. Cuz they were talking Malayalam, which was my mother tongue. I was waiting for my parents to introduce me to the lady who asked us to be seated. But they didn’t. The lady was around 50 of age and was wearing saree and was quiet busy with her chores. I didn’t understand what work she had other than taking care of the guests. I was confused. We sat there for half hour. The lady was in the kitchen doing her household works and didn’t even care to come ask us for something to drink. Only then I realized they were not our relatives. I was sitting on the sofa which was to the immediate left of the entrance which showed the entire view of the hall. At the other end of the hall was a cot over which was a window which showed nothing but some houses far away. There was a television set to the right of the cot. There was a room next to the television which was the pooja room. To the left of the cot was a room which was the kitchen. To the right of me was a room which led to the toilet.


After half hour a man entered the room. He was around 60 of age. He was wearing a white shirt and white dhoti. He was very charming and energetic. He was clean shaved and was bald. He welcomed us and asked his wife to make some tea for us. That was when she realized that she had to make tea for guests who visit their home. We were served just tea, cuz I was expecting some biscuits with it. Maybe she didn’t bring biscuits cuz she was not ordered to bring them by the old man. The old man lifted one end of his dhoti, and with the other hand he trailed the hem of it till he reached the other end and made the two ends meet and tied it loosely, just below his waist, making his legs visible. We were having tea while the old man was looking at something outside the door, having his tea. After we had tea, he went inside the kitchen to keep the empty glasses while I took a brief look at what he was looking. Straight outside the entrance, there were steps which led down to a Tulasi plant which was planted on a little raised cement cube. It had triangle shaped cut at each side of the cube and the Tulasi was planted on top of it. I came back to my seat. The man came out from the kitchen and started talking about the history of Ramayana with no initial small talk. It was indistinct for someone to talk about the history of Ramayana to guests who knew anything about it to know its history and origin. Especially me. I looked askance at him as he droned about it. Then he shifted the topic to something else which I had no clue what it was. It was all myth. I had no clue where I am and why the hell I was there. I looked at my parents and they managed to hold a I-can-understand-what-the-hell-you-are-talking-about look at him. My aunt looked at me and smirked instantaneously. The man disappeared into the pooja room when I asked my mom what the hell was happening. She didn’t tell me and asked me to go be in the car till they come back. I said it was ok for me to be here rather than being there alone.


We were sitting like this- I was sitting in a sofa, which is for one person, which was placed at the immediate right to the entrance. Next to me was a sofa which holds three person in which my mom, my aunt and my grandma was sitting. Next to it was a sofa, like mine, in which my father was sitting. To the left of the entrance was a small dining table which had four chairs. One of them was now occupied by my uncle.


The old man came out from the pooja room and walked straight to my father and looked at him. “Everything will be ok” he said.

“What?” I said to myself.

“Everything will be ok. It would take few days for you to get on track. You don’t have to worry about anything. What has to happen, must happen. God is there with you” he said.

Only then I realized that he was a seer. My parents knew I would get mad if I was taken to places like this. ‘Oh, That’s why I was asked to stay in car’, I thought to myself. I hate these people- seers, ascetics and people of that kind. I gave a very bad look at my mom who gave me back a regretful look. My parents never used to believe people like this. Someone must have told something about this man which made them want to see him. But I just wanted to see what this man was up to. I controlled my anger and appeared calm to see what he was going to do. He went inside again and came out with a small plastic container which had some powder in it. He walked to my father, held the plastic bottle close to my father’s mouth while he was mumbling something. Must be a prayer. My father gave a what-am-I-supposed-to-do look. He told him to blow air inside the bottle. He did. He took the bottle went inside again and came out with a small tube. He placed the bottle on the dining table and filled half of it with a beige colored powder with the already containing powder. The he squeezed the tube over the bottle which oozed out a high viscous transparent liquid into the bottle. He closed the bottle tightly with its cap and placed it on a betel leaf and took it inside the room again. He came out and droned about his life and some facts which he related with the myth.


My father was then asked to come to the pooja room. He came back after a while. Then my aunt. Then my grandma. Everyone took turns. I was really bored with all what was happening, so I was playing Bounce in my mobile. After everyone had finished with their turns, it was finally mine. My mother was very concerned about my future more than myself. She asked him to foresee my future, and tell how my job and other things would be. I was not conscious of some of the acts he was doing while he was doing the “prophecy”. I was busy playing Bounce. My mom prodded me to look at the man who was standing in front of me. I took my eyes from my mobile to see him. He was looking at me. I gave him a what-do-you-want look. He guessed that I didn’t believe him. He pointed his finger to a showcase which had some memorabilia. I studied at them thoughtfully. And looked at him again. “Did you see that photo” he asked pointing at the photo I missed. “Ya” I lied. There were some 50 people in that picture standing in order, one behind the other, but were a little higher than the people in the front, just to get their faces clearly in the picture. There were four rows of them like that. He went close to it and pointed at a man and said “It was me. I was a member of the Director Of Education, Madras University. I know how students like you behave. I have handled so many students of your kind”. I looked at him without saying a word. I just kept looking with a what-the-hell look. He studied me for a while and looked outside the entrance at the Tulasi plant and mumbled something, which I apparently wasn’t able to hear. I kept looking at him. Still looking at the Tulasi plant, he raised his right hand and talked feebly like someone was actually there, right in front of him. He shook his head like someone said something and whistled. Yes. He whistled. He whistled for 10 seconds and looked at me.

“Everything is ok but for the way you look.” he said.

What the hell is wrong with my look? “I don’t understand” I said.

“You look very dull. Like you’ve lost something in your life. Young people like you need to have the spirit in ya’ll which should charm others. Which should make them feel to be like you. But you don’t seem happy. What is your problem ?”

What is your problem now ? I asked to myself. “I don’t have problems. This is how I normally look.”

“You shouldn’t be like this son. It’s bad. The glow that is supposed to be in young ones like you is missing. Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.”

Go to hell. I said. He looked out again at the Tulasi plant and raised his right hand with his palm visibly shown. He whistled at the Tulasi plant and smirked.
He looked at me and said “Ok son. Everything will be alright. In just three months you will get a job. A very good one. But by then you should change yourself. You shouldn’t look like you’re in deep melancholy. Be active. Be brave.”
Fuck you. I thought. “ok” I said. He went inside and brought a small clay-made hemispherical lamp which had a thread to hold the fire and filled with oil. The lamp was lit when he came out. Before he went to take the lamp, he made the two fans in the hall run at full speed. He came out with that lit lamp and walked across the hall and made his way to the entrance. He stopped at the entrance and said “I made the fan run at full speed cuz I want to see whether the light goes off. It didn’t. It’s a good omen.” He went outside and stepped down to that Tulasi pant and kept the lamp in one of the triangle cut of the raised cube over which the Tulasi was planted. He climbed back over and said “Come to the pooja room son. I need to talk to you”. I thought this guy is a mad man. I went to the pooja room. I was a little scared after seeing everything he had done. It was a little room which had a cot, over which I was asked to be seated. To my right was some 20 pictures of Hindu Gods framed and hung on the wall. Tiny colorful bulbs ran around the borders of the pictures and a devotional song was played from an electronic player which plays only the songs recorded on it. It was hung high on the wall for the sound to resonate through the entire room. He stood in front of me and looked at me. I felt little nervous, not only for I was with a mad man, but also the pictures and atmosphere in the room was little weird. He asked what my problem was. I said I have no problem and I’m as I usually am. He did the evil thing which scares me. He raised his right hand and this time, he was talking with the pictures framed which hung on the wall. That seriously scared the shit out of me. For one thing, that I shouldn’t play bad with him or snub him cuz he knows voodoo, which he might use on me if I tease him (I believed he would do it by the way he acted. It was fuckin’ weird). I was looking at him without blinking. He looked at one of the twenty Gods, which was the last by rows and columns, and he gave a sly look at it. Like a look given by someone when you joke with a hidden meaning and he manages to find what you actually meant. He winked at that picture and nodded as if “Is it? Is it?”. I was fuckin’ scared like I felt like running out from there. He was mad. He winked at a Hindu God and he was giving a sly look at it. He was becoming more insane as he talked with that picture. He then looked at me and laughed. I was out of immediate instinct to what has to be given in return to that smile. I just looked at him. “Don’t worry son. Everything is alright with you. Your future is good. Tell me a number between one to ten.”

“Seven” I said.

“Hmm. Ok. Tell me any four-legged animal”.

“Eh, Tiger.”

“Ok. Tell me any flower.”

“Hmm, Rose.”

“Good.”

He wrote it all in a book and did some calculation. He then gave the book to me and asked me to sign just below where he did his calculations. I signed. He said I don’t have to worry about anything and asked me to leave. I came out and gave everyone a bad tempered look and everyone knew I was mad. I sat where I was sitting. He went inside and disappeared for 5 minutes. He then came back with a shoe flower and two more flowers which was yellow with numerous numbers of small petals on it. The shoe flower had some burnt marks on the edge of its petals. He plucked one of its petals, mumbling some prayer and said “Eat it. The marks on the edge of the petals are the dirt in your heart. You should eat it to purify you”. How will eating dirt will purify something ? No logic. I had to eat it cuz my mom was pressing my hand hard which said- ‘Eat it for me’, when I had the petals in my hand. Like a fool, I ate those petals. It had five petals. I ate all five. I thought he would treat me like a donkey asking me to eat the other two flowers he had had in his hand and some more leaves and papers. But he said those flowers had to be kept near the Tulasi plant. Thank God.


We left to our grandma’s place soon after exiting from there. After our stay there for three hours, we returned back home. I tried to put everything up in front just to show how the picture was. How and what had really happened out there. And I think I was close. I am a kind of person who never believes in things like this. How accurately can someone predict your future more than yourself ? I thought he was to be a crystal gazer but he turned out to be a talking-to-invisible-people-with-his-right-hand-raised git. All what he did was funny to me but it might be a serious thing for people who earnestly seek him for their good will. He claims he can predict future. Is he God ? To my eyes, he just looked insane, more like a fool with no future. If he is so good in predicting future, why cant he foresee his future and make amends ? He can be a rich man. I have just three words for him- Get a life ! I will have to go to him again if I don’t get the “good” job that he said I would be getting. I would certainly tell him to go work for someone or do the households rather than doing a job like this. I don’t know his name. What do I name him ? ‘The man who predicts future and sucks at it’ ? I have no idea. Maybe ‘Loser’ suits him best. I made my mom promise that she would never go to people like this anymore. Or at least, not to take me with them !

Realization Of Pulchritude- The Radiant Art.!

After every exams, I used to shovel the question papers, and other stuffs i used to take for the exam, in my bag and bring it home, Only to realize that i have them there when i search for a book in my bag for the next exam. I used to put every question papers in a drawer in my closet. After years, i got to arrange my closet to eliminate unwanted stuffs from it. While i came across this drawer, there were some hundred question papers filling the drawer. I don't know whether you'd reminisce looking just at a question paper which you've tried to answer, but i would certainly do. Because never a question paper that was given to me will have nothing written on it unless its a university question paper. I used to write something just to while away the time allotted to finish the question paper. Im an average student. Well, for the record, I'm a bit below average who fight wars to contain a 67%. So its obvious for a guy like me to write shit on a paper given to me to answer according to the questions given on it. Sometimes i used to do the general thing- shade all the circles with a pencil/pen (the circles include the circles in the letters 'a', 'q','b','g' etc.) just to make the paper look funny or- interesting. If that gives some more time which might provoke me (which never usually happens unless i study) to write something, I would usually write funny poems or captions or one-liners (which takes time to think as well as to write the same!). My personal option would be to write something rather than shading letters. I sometimes cartoon small character which resemble resistors and capacitors in my Electronics related paper and characters which resemble monitor and CPU in my Computer Science related paper. Now you might think how i managed to maintain an awesome percentage of 67 doing stuffs that wouldn't help me get more than 50%. Well, Im trying to find it out how. Its a miracle, i guess. Coming to what i was telling, i was going though all my question papers which i happened to find in my drawer and was laughing out loud just to bottle up a pang that kept telling me at the back of my head that i would've written something that the miracle would work out to get me a 70%. But i was happy, To see how beautifully i scribbled in all my question papers, and how beautifully i shaded every letters that not a mark of my pencil went beyond the circle, and how beautifully my poems sounded, and how beautifully my question paper looked. I always write what affects me the most. And i write it instantaneously as my mind says. My personal favorite is: "You took me to heaven, and i saw what hell is. Girls are fake". And sometimes i used to write "The questions given in this paper is no way related to ECE or at least the subject" at the top of the paper, just below the "JAYA ENGINEERING COLLEGE" heading. I also found some interesting stuffs in that drawer. There was a sheet of paper (the paper which was usually given to write the answers) which had three columns with names neatly written one after the other in every column. It was the names of all the pop and rock bands i know and was neatly written one below the other with no repetition. I just thought how much time i would've wasted to write that (probably most of the time allotted to finish the paper) cuz it takes so much time to think all name of the bands, write them down, then when i think again of a band name i would have to check it with the already listed bands, etc. Wow, ask me how to kill time in an examination for which the answers for the questions asked were unknown (at least for you!).

I loved to write lyrics of some songs (which my friends have hardly known of) in a paper and show it to my friends for their comments, claiming that it was mine. Some would find that it wasn't mine and some wouldn't; and some would comment on it. But eventually after any of the above cases, i would say that it wasn't mine. You might think what a sick job i've been doing when the class was going on. But it would be just wonderful to see the ones who comment for the lyrics written by some popular pop or rock artist. But i sometimes used to write something on my own. Some lyrics of just some random thoughts. I would get good comments or some turn out to be the sleuth and claims its not mine. Funny, either i plagiarize or truly wrote it.

When i was going through my 'question paper art' which took me to the good old days, i found a sheet of paper in which was written a poem- or so-called "poem". I dont remember who would have written it cuz there was no name. And am not that good in finding out who it could be just by looking at the handwriting. He probably would've got inspired to write this from.. well.. I don't have a clue. It goes like this (just as written):

"Whenever I feel, Im alone
I'l be thinking about you my dear
All the nights Im dreaming about you my dear
While Im walking,
While Im talking,
While Im bathing,
While Im ......?
I'll be thinking about you my dear
This is how the days of my life, have passed away
And that's how i came to know love is a sweet poison.

I can see your face on my book pages.
I'll be hugging and kissing my book pages.
The pages becomes wet, you are the reason for that
I don't want to blame you for that
But i want you to pay me, for the loss of my days.

It would be nice, If you are by the side of me
all the nights
No visa, no passport. I'll take you to heaven.
The doors are always open for someone like us my dear.
This is how i scribble versus on thinking about you my dear.
That may be the curses from God of love.
Whenever I feel, Im alone.
I'll be thinking about you my dear.. my dear.. my dear.. my dear.."

There was no name for this poem but i presume it to be "My dear". I liked it for what he tried to say, fighting my laughter. I wanted to share this with someone. So im putting it in my blog.

All my question papers are in my dustbin now. But it helped me take myself to the examination hall, seeing myself write shit on my question paper, never attempting to ask unknown answers to the person next to me, and the person next to me never attempting to ask anything to me for he would've known im either busy writing poems and one-liners or that i will have the faintest clue of what the answer might be. Reminiscing and repent the days simultaneously, for that miracle which would've got me a 70%. I hope another post would come up soon, as soon as i know where my answer sheets are stacked.!

B-O-R-E-D.!

Im really bored now. So bored that im writing a post. For no reason. Nothing. Really nothing. I don't know what to write. But still im writing. My computer has gone dead. So you may wonder how i got to write this. I have cousins. And they have laptops. Its been two weeks since my computer went dead. What would i have done if my computer was ok? Man, i wouldve watched loads and loads of movies, compose songs, listen to Rahman songs, sit in front of it with an open Orkut page and wait for a scrap, read blogs and post some funny comment, play games, do shit! I wouldnt have bought three novels if it hadnt been for my computer's temporary death. Three novels. Rs.60 each. Man, i spent 180 bucks. I read two books already. And im with the thrid one. A little thicker than the two. My brother takes the CPU to his friend's home to get the problem fixed. While i'll be at home, with this thicker book in hand, flipping each page, with a thought that he'd come with a no-problem CPU. But in vain. ok. To while away time, i went out with my friend. We went to three different places, which were at three different places, each very far from the other. Now you might think that for sure the friend must have been a girl. No. Its a guy. He has the same wavelength as i have. And even he was as bored as i was. Now. To kill time for at least 15mins, i write this. Now if even u were to kill time, I think i helped you kill 5mins in reading this. If you think i've wasted your time, then GO TO HELL.!

My Composition..!

My new comp.. I've named it "Sound of South" cuz that's what it sounded to me like.. I've used synthesized sounds of Mridhangam, Gottuvadhyam, Morsing etc which was all tuned using software to get its tone (Not the actual instrument though!) and some strings, flute and damped keys.. This is just a 2:21min track.. Hear it and leave your comments.. [Software Used: FL 8]



Click here to download..




Please leave your comments..!


;)
-S

Condolence.

Yesterday, After passing the afternoon dozing, I woke up at at around 5:30 to hear a very bad news. That my class mate Vijay Saravanan's father passed away. I couldn't go over to his place to see the body right away. Instead, i prayed for him during my evening prayer. Today, Me and some of my friends went to be with him until the body was taken. I take this little space for my condolence. Let the eternal rest grant unto him and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul rest in peace. And i pray God to give Vijay enough strength to overcome the loss.

Rule of the world.!

"This is the rule of the world today
As it has ever been

The world bestows its smile on those
Who have the strength to win

Beneath all outward semblances
It looks for merit true,

It little cares how much you know
But asks what can you do?"

- ??