song

Summer Playlist

Even though I don’t like beaches so much, I love the part where you sit on the sand and look at the sunset and feel the cool breeze brushing your skin. For some reason, this is that one song which reminds me of the beaches. Maybe because I discovered it on my trip to Goa or maybe it really is a beach baby kinda song.

You cannot do summer better than they do summer in this beautiful song by ‘The Bird and the Bees’. It’s their love for L.A. and I am a sucker for songs written for cities and if the city is to be as dreamy as this one, what can be better!?

From Chinese beats to Indian, the transformation just blew me away. Glass animals doing their usual thing in this one – being amazing that is.

Discovered the next one on Apple Music owing to my addiction to chill playlists. There is nothing better than cuddling up with a book and a cold beverage, sunlight filtering through the curtains with music like this playing in the background.

A little too angsty and rushed but I still love it since I have spent my afternoons binge watching this show.

Bruno Mars is the definition of easy listening combined with pep and upbeat-ness(?). His new song, for which the video is also great btw, is the new waiting-for-monsoon-but-loving-the-lazy-summers score!

This one because one Chainsmokers song is a must for the list and the concept of a waterbed was so new to me! Please don’t watch the video, it sucks. Posting the audio here!

It’s in the name and how can I possibly not include this weird and beautiful song I found on the treasure that is ‘TheSoundYouNeed’.

 

That’s What’s Up

Years ago, I came across this song called ‘Home’ by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes and it is one of the best songs on the theme of a home, about belonging, about love. For a long time I heard many other songs by them but it wasn’t until I found this song called “That’s What’s Up” when I fell in love again.

And here’s the video of “Home” as well in case you’re interested. It’s a beautiful song. Also followed by the lyrics for That’s What’s Up which you most probably won’t pay attention to because of the adorable video. *_*

I’ll be the church, you be the steeple
You be the king, I’ll be the people
Well I was feeling such a mess I thought you’d leave me behind
Well I was being such a wreck I thought you’d treat me unkind
But you helped me change my mind

I’ll be the sun, you be the shining
You be the clock, I’ll be the timing
Well I was feeling such a mess I thought you’d leave me behind
Well I was feeling so upset I thought the sun never shined

Then I found.. forever
Hey hey love
We’ve been best friends forever darling
That’s what’s up

Forever
No matter what
You’ve got my love to lean on darling
That’s what’s up
You’ve got my love to lean on darling
No matter what

You be the book, I’ll be the binding
You be the words, I’ll be the rhyming
While I was feeling such a wreck I thought I was losing my mind
While I was feeling such a mess I thought the sun never shined

You be the bird, I’ll be the feather
We’ll be the best of friends forever
While I was feeling such a mess I thought you’d leave me behind
While I was feeling such a wreck I thought you’d treat me unkind

Then I’ll find.. forever and always
You’ve got my love to lean on darling
All the days
Forever, come what may
You’ve got my love to lean on darling
All the days
You’ve got my love to lean on darling
All the days of our days, yeah

Love is our shelter
Love is our cause
Love goes on forever
Yeah love will lead us all

Love, it is our honour
Love, it is our all
Love goes on forever
Yeah love it is our home

Oh, yeah, that’s what’s up..

The Mountain Playlist

Yes, it was time that I return to my love for mountains and this time it is a compilation of songs that I never leave behind when I travel to those magical snowy peaks. *_*

  • Maahi Ve from Highway – For obvious reasons and also Rahman’s magic.

  • Preet from Khubsurat – The echo in the music and the voice make it perfect for the mountains. Another reason could be that I heard it for the first time while travelling in a bus in McLeodganj.

  • Ye Haseen Vadiyaan from Roja – Like every other song from Roja, this one was way ahead of its time and the lyrics are so so beautiful.

  • Naam Ada Likhna from Yahaan – Shot in Kashmir (sorry for the video quality), again the echoing factor makes it a song for the mountains.

  • Khul Kabhi from Haider – Kashmir at its best and Vishal Bhardwaj too.

  • Shikayatein from Lootera – When the part in the mountains begins, my love for the movie makes it all the more special.

  • Deewana Hua Badal – I heard it for the first time on some music/antakshri show sung by someone else, and what imagery man! A cloud going crazy. This has to be on every nature lover’s list!

  • Sham from Aisha – A very trip-py one.

  • Tu Bin Bataye from Rang De Basanti – Rahman and that voice!

  • Big Rock Candy Mountain from O Brother, Where Art Thou? – Please please I beg of you to watch this video, it’s like one of the cute-est things ever.

Angry Indian Goddesses

If you haven’t watched the movie, go watch it now. Because seldom does Bollywood make so much sense! 😛 This post is about the music in the movie that has caught my fantasy.
Here are the hilarious lyrics.

Teri teenage umariya,
Ladaaye nazariya,
Teri teenage umariya,
Zero figuriya,

Galliyon se jaaye,
Mera dil lalchaye,

Tu dikhta hai singham,
Mere pehle you don’t come,
Tu dikhta hai singham,
Hone de sangam,
Chipku badan se jaise ho chewing gum,

Main aayi leke aas,
Par na bujhe meri pyaas,
Mera dil dola re,

Mera pyar atom bomb,
Ashiqon ka nikle dum,
Mera dil dola re,

Main hun chori no.1,
Babua stop making fun,
Mera dil dola re,

Hmm..
Chal hatt..
Chal muye..
Aaye haaye,

Kayi lene aaye the,
Kayi lene aayenge,
Meri thokar khakar rote jayenge,

Koi churan khata hai,
Koi tonic pita hai,
Par mere saath na koi jeeta hai,

Dikhta na koi,
Gabru jo de de,

Dikhta na koi,
Gabru jo de de,
Mere jism ko,
Passion ka lesson,

Main aayi leke aas,
Par na bujhe meri pyaas,
Mera dil dola re,

Mera pyar atom bomb,
Ashiqon ka nikle dum,
Mera dil dola re,

Main hun chori no.1,
Babua stop making fun,
Mera dil dola re!

The song takes a hilarious take at men who are not able to please women. A woman is expressing her sexuality by asking her partner to perform better and she is also making jabs and taunts at him which will definitely bring a smile to your face. It is amazing how they have tried to capture the lesser talked about side of sexuality which is a woman’s perspective in this song. It is the female gaze coming into action who demands just another basic right which is more than often either taboo-ed or forgotten by half of the world. The word play will tell you, she isn’t afraid of resorting to other means to please herself since she has been searching for a very long time and no one has come up to the mark.

Playlist for the Month

  1. Raat Raazi by Prateek Kuhad – Soulful, beautiful and so simple yet touching. If you haven’t heard any songs by him I strongly recommend listening to it.
  2. Tuntuna by Shamoon Ismail – I really wonder why singers like him don’t get enough praise. This is again an amazing song with an unusual fusion of punjabi folk music and blues. Give it a try. The lines will steal your heart.
  3. Matargashti – This song from Imtiaz Ali’s upcoming movie is peppy and will make you stand on your feet and shake a little. The playfulness in the lyrics is aptly portrayed in the video of the song!
  4. Agar Tum Saath Ho – Ladies and Gentleman, we have the best romantic song of the year right here! Yes, it is true! A. R. Rahman has worked his magic once again! 🙂
  5. Khoya Khoya Chand (The Bartender Mix) – The video has the cast of Shaitan. It is a “jazzy” remix of the old song by the same name but if you liked Hawa Hawai, you will definitely like this. 🙂

Que Sera, Sera

 Whatever will be, will be.

Is this not what all of us should believe in and trust our faith in? Thanks to Alfred Hitchcock for making the song popular so that I can put my feelings in words easily – whatever will be, will be.

I was inspired by the song (and by Dumbledore) to write something really random:

When I was young, I read a book
I asked my heart, do these worlds really exist?
My heart replied, maybe it is only in your head,
But that doesn’t mean, that it doesn’t exist.

Here’s the song which also won the oscars. Some lyrics from the song:

When I was young, I fell in love
I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead
Will we have rainbows, day after day
Here’s what my sweetheart said.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Podcasts: Harry Potter

So these days, every night before I go to sleep, I plug in my earphones and listen to either audiobooks or podcasts on SoundCloud and there was this hilarious podcast I found about Harry Potter which you MUST listen to if you’re a fan. It has been done by the Comedians Cinema Club. So there were discussions, lame puns (which I totally loved), magic on a podcast, etcetra etcetra. It’s a 33 minute long thing and I dozed off midway because it was a tired and depressing day but one thing that I totally loved was the mashup of Harry Potter and Uptown Funk.

The lyrics go like:

LYRICS:
This Wiz, I’m ice cold
Im Voldemort, That white gold
This one, for that H.P.
Says he hates me,
But what can he do?
Caught the kid, boy who lived
Harry’s outta luck
With the Elder wand, stop the chosen one
Maybe make a new horcrux? (Ha!)

I’m too hot (hot hand)
Call an Auror up to try and stop this man
I’m too hot (hot hand)
Make a headmaster retire man
I’m too hot (hot hand)
Don’t say my name, you know who I am!
I’m too hot (hot hand)
Am I bad ‘bout this curse,
Avada down now

Albus sent ya, hallelujah (Whoo)
Albus sent ya, hallelujah (Whoo)
Albus sent ya, hallelujah (Whoo)
Cuz Dark Lord Funk gon’ give it to ya!
Cuz Dark Lord Funk gon’ give it to ya!
Cuz Dark Lord Funk gon’ give it to ya!
Saturday night and we takin Hogwarts
Don’t believe me, just watch! (Come on!)
Don’t believe me, just watch! (x5)
Hey, Hey, Hey, Oh!

Stop!
Wait a minute
Fill my goblet, put some fire in it
Grasp the hands, make the vow
Come on ‘Trix, seal this now!
We takin Diagon, Knockturn, Hogsmede, Anywhere!
If we show up, we gon’ curse out
Badder than that Devil’s Snare (Ha!)

I’m too hot (hot hand)
Call an Auror, try and stop this man
I’m too hot (hot hand)
Make a headmaster retire man
I’m too hot (hot hand)
Witch, say my name, you know who I am!
I’m too hot (hot hand)
Am I bad ‘bout this curse
Crucio now

Albus sent ya, hallelujah (Whoo)
Albus sent ya, hallelujah (Whoo)
Albus sent ya, hallelujah (Whoo)
Cuz Dark Lord Funk gon’ give it to ya!
Cuz Dark Lord Funk gon’ give it to ya!
Cuz Dark Lord Funk gon’ give it to ya!
It’s Saturday night and we takin Hogwarts
Don’t believe me, just watch! (Come on!)
Don’t believe me, just watch! (x5)
Hey, Hey, Hey, Oh!

Before we leave
Imma tell Harry Potter a lil’ somethin
Dark Lord Funk you up, Dark Lord Funk you up
Dark Lord Funk you up, Dark Lord Funk you up
I said Dark Lord Funk you up, Dark Lord Funk you up
Dark Lord Funk you up, Dark Lord Funk you up

Come on, curse! Just cast it,
If you got the mark, then blast it
If you’re pureblood, we’ll have it
No need to fear the dark magic!
Come on, curse! Just cast it,
No need to fear the dark magic,
Saturday night and we takin Hogwarts,
Don’t believe me, just watch! (Come on)
Don’t believe me, just watch! (x5)
Hey, Hey, Hey, Oh!

Dark Lord Funk you up, Dark Lord Funk you up (Say Whaa!?)
Dark Lord Funk you up, Dark Lord Funk you up
Dark Lord Funk you up, Dark Lord Funk you up (Say Whaa?)
Dark Lord Funk you up, Dark Lord Funk you up…etc 🙂
(Lyrics ©KFaceTV 2015)

And here is a dubstep version of Hedwig’s theme that I really liked.

Taro, I have sprayed you into my eyes.

So I was randomly listening to Alt-J on YouTube and I came across this beautiful song: Taro.

Just btw, this is not the official video.

I decided to go to the roots of the inspiration and you won’t believe what I found.

The lyrics go like:

Indochina, Capa jumps Jeep, two feet creep up the road

To photo, to record meat lumps and war,

They advance as does his chance – very yellow white flash.

A violent wrench grips mass, rips light, tears limbs like rags,

Burst so high finally Capa lands,

Mine is a watery pit. Painless with immense distance

From medic from colleague, friend, enemy, foe, him five yards from his leg,

From you Taro.

Do not spray into eyes – I have sprayed you into my eyes.

3:10 pm, Capa pends death, quivers, last rattles, last chokes

All colours and cares glaze to grey, shrivelled and stricken to dots,

Left hand grasps what the body grasps not – le photographe est mort.

3.1415, alive no longer my amour, faded for home May of ‘54

Doors open like arms my love, Painless with a great closeness

To Capa, to Capa Capa dark after nothing, re-united with his leg and with you, Taro.

Do not spray into eyes – I have sprayed you into my eyes.

Hey Taro!

Long story cut short, Gerda Taro was born into a Jewish family that migrated from Galicia to Germany.Taro is regarded as the first female photojournalist to cover the front lines of a war and to die while doing so. She was a war photojournalist in the late 40’s/early 50’s and died in her line of work when a tank collided into the side of a car she was riding on. Gerda’s romantic interest, and colleague, Robert Capa left his Jeep to enter a hostile war zone to take pictures, during the first Indo-China war. He stepped on a landmine however, which blew apart his left leg. He was taken to a medical station where he died with his camera in his hand.

Here is Guardian’s article talking about their life, the novel published on it and the movie made on them (http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2012/may/13/robert-capa-gerda-taro-relationship):

It begins with a photograph. In 1934 a struggling Hungarian photographer, André Friedmann, living in exile in Paris, is commissioned to take publicity pictures for a Swiss life insurance company’s advertising brochure. On the lookout for potential models, he approaches a young Swiss refugee, Ruth Cerf, in a café on the Left Bank and convinces her to pose for him in a Montparnasse park.

Because she does not entirely trust the scruffy young charmer, Ruth brings along her friend Gerta Pohorylle, a petite redhead with a winning smile and a confident manner. So begins the most iconic relationship in the history of photography, and an intertwined and complex story of radical politics, bohemianism and bravery that, in the intervening years, has taken on the shadings of a modern myth.

Together, André Friedmann and Gerta Pohorylle would change their names and their destiny, becoming Robert Capa and Gerda Taro, the most celebrated visual chroniclers of the Spanish civil war. Together, too, they would change the nature of war photography, reinventing the form in a way that resonates to this day. Capa went on to become the most famous of the two, and arguably the most famous war photographer of the 20th century due to his visceral images of the D-day landings on Omaha Beach in Normandy. His most famous quote would become a dictum by which ensuing generations of war photographers worked: “If your pictures aren’t good enough, you’re not close enough.”

This brave, but cavalier, approach to getting pictures of the action from within the action would cost both Gerda Taro and Robert Capa their lives – the former killed on the frontline of the Spanish civil war in 1937; the latter blown up by a land mine in Indochina in 1954. The myth of Robert Capa and Gerda Taro continues apace today with the British publication of a novel called Waiting for Robert Capa by Susana Fortes, a Spanish novelist and teacher. The book won the coveted Premio Fernando Lara in Spain on its initial publication in 2009 and has since been translated into 20 languages; the film rights have been bought by Michael Mann, the award-winning director of Heat (1995), The Insider (1999) and Public Enemies (2009). Fortes’s short novel is essentially a historical romance that concentrates on the relationship between Capa and Taro. While the historical settings are accurate, Fortes literally puts words into each of their mouths, imagining conversations, thoughts and debates as well as accentuating both the doomed romance and the reckless bohemianism of the times.

With the Spanish civil war as its main backdrop, the narrative is an uneasy, sometimes awkward, merging of fact and fiction, and will almost certainly offend the many guardians of both Capa and Taro’s reputations just as it will no doubt entrance the mainstream cinema-going audience should it be made into a Hollywood film. “I tried to be very respectful of the facts – the biographical data, the locations etc,” says Fortes when I contact her in Spain, where she is on a book publicity tour. “I went through everything I could find: letters, memories, biographies… But for a novel to breathe, you have to build souls for your characters. This is reflected in the dialogue, the literary tension, the humour, the fights, the passion, the sex, the mixed feelings. In other words, life. That’s part of the novelist’s job. One always writes with one foot on the ground and the other in the air. It is the only way to walk the path.”

However, when I mention the book to Jimmy Fox – veteran photographic historian and erstwhile director of the famous Magnum agency, which Capa co-founded with Henri Cartier-Bresson – he says: “I was dismayed by the novel. It was so fluttery and sugary. I think it is wrong to elevate the romance in that way. Capa was a flamboyant guy, a great drinker and a womaniser who had so many lovers, including Ingrid Bergman. Taro found the love of her life in Ted Allan, the man who was with her when she was fatally wounded. But of course that does not fit the big simplified romantic version so neatly.”

The independent filmmaker Trisha Ziff, who directed The Mexican Suitcase (2010) about the discovery of a hoard of unseen negatives by Capa, Taro and David “Chim” Seymour, concurs. “Waiting for Robert Capa is a fiction based on a romance, but it is also a romance based on a fiction. If it becomes a Hollywood film, the myth will no doubt take over.”

If there is one thing all the experts agree on, it is that nothing was straightforward about Robert Capa and Gerda Taro’s relationship. Shortly after their first meeting, the young André Friedmann was sent to Spain on an assignment for a Berlin-based photo magazine. He subsequently photographed the Holy Week procession in Seville and described the festivities to Gerta Pohorylle in a letter that also mentioned how much he was thinking about her. On his return, he spent the summer holidaying in the south of France with Gerta and her friends. According to Ruth Cerf, quoted in Alex Kershaw’s book Blood and Champagne: The Life and Times of Robert Capa, the pair “fell in love in the south of France” despite her suspicion that he was “a rogue and a womaniser”. If the young Gerta was fascinated by his waywardness, he in turn was taken by her independent spirit. “Here was a woman,” writes Kershaw, “who didn’t suffocate him with affection, and who was as unashamed by her sexuality as she was conscious of her outsider status in Paris as a German Jew.” This gets to the heart of the couple’s mutual attraction: their shared radicalism and acute sense of exile. Friedmann had departed his native Hungary for Berlin in 1931 soon after his arrest by the secret police for leftist student activism. In February 1933, aged 19, he had fled Berlin when Hitler assumed power, travelling to Vienna, then back home to Budapest, before departing Hungary for good in September to live in penury in Paris, where he met Pohorylle on that fateful day in 1934.

By then, she too had experienced radical politics, arrest and flight. Born to bourgeois parents in Stuttgart in 1910, Pohorylle joined a young communist organisation and, around the time Friedmann was fleeing Berlin, was distributing anti-Nazi leaflets and putting up communist propaganda posters on walls under cover of darkness. She was arrested by the Nazis on 19 March 1933 and interrogated about a supposed Bolshevik plot to overthrow Hitler.

On her release, she used a fake passport to travel overland to Paris, where she was looked after by a communist network. Both André Friedmann and Gerta Pohorylle, though still young, were already seasoned activists and exiles when they met, intent on forging new lives for themselves while also staying loyal to their radical leftist roots.

Though Friedmann could seldom afford to buy film and often had to pawn his camera to survive in Paris, he schooled Pohorylle in the rudiments of photography and found her a job in the newly formed Alliance Photo picture agency. And she, it seemed, anchored him – at least for a while. “Without Gerta, André would not have made it,” the late Eva Besnyö, another Hungarian photographer who mixed in the same bohemian circles in Berlin, told Kershaw. “She picked him up, gave him direction. He had never wanted an ordinary life, and so when things didn’t go well, he drank and gambled. He was in a bad way when they met, and maybe without her it would have been the end for him.”

As Friedmann’s photographic career tentatively took off in Paris, his younger brother Cornell joined him, developing the photographs taken by André as well as those of his friends, Henri Cartier-Bresson and David “Chim” Seymour, in a darkened bathroom in a hotel that overlooked the famous Café du Dôme. It was there that the three photographers mingled with philosophers, writers and artists, drinking and dreaming of better times. It was around this time also that André Friedmann and Gerta Pohorylle became Robert Capa and Gerda Taro in a shared act of self-reinvention that still seems daring today.

The first anyone else heard of Robert Capa was when the couple turned up at the offices of Alliance Photo and announced they had discovered a famous American photographer of that name. The pair soon found they could sell photographs attributed to the fictitious Capa to French photographic agencies for three times the price of Friedmann’s, such was the status accorded visiting American photographers. Their joint ruse was soon discovered, but the pseudonyms remained in place. In her essay for the exhibition catalogue Gerda Taro: Archive, published in 2007, Irme Schaber notes: “Taro and Capa were not merely reacting to their precarious economic situation. They were responding as well to the antisemitism of Germany and the increasing antipathy towards foreigners in France. And to elude the stigma attached to being refugees, they spurned every ethnic or religious label.”

If their joint self-reinvention was the first significant factor in the dramatic trajectory of Robert Capa and Gerda Taro, the second was their decision to go together to Spain in 1936 to cover the republican resistance to Franco’s fascist rebels. Like many writers and artists, including George Orwell and André Malraux, they went there out of political conviction and scorned any notion of journalistic detachment. The fight against fascism was, in a very real and personal way, their fight, given their history as exiles and refugees, and the Spanish civil war was the literal and metaphorical frontline of that battle.

It was an adventure, though, that almost ended as soon as it had begun, when the plane hired by the French magazine Vu to take them to Barcelona crash-landed in a field on the outskirts of the city. The pair limped into Barcelona to find scenes of ferment and disorder as anarchist forces took over the city. There, they photographed young republicans leaving Barcelona for the frontlines. Then in September they travelled together to the front themselves, arriving in the village of Cerro Muriano near Córdoba, where they found, and photographed, crowds of villagers fleeing their homes as the fascists rained shells down on the village. In one famous series of pictures, Capa captured Taro crouched, camera in hand, behind a wall beside a republican soldier. In another even more famous picture, perhaps the most well-known war photograph ever, Capa caught a militiaman at the very moment of his death from a sniper’s bullet.

In that split second, the legend of Robert Capa, war photographer, was born, and decades later that same image would become the centre of a debate that still simmers over the ethics and veracity of war photography. In Waiting for Robert Capa, Fortes writes: “Death of a Loyalist Militiaman contained all the drama of Goya’s Third of May 1808 painting, all the rage that Guernica would later show… Its strength, like all symbols, didn’t lie in just the image, but in what it was representing.” Fortes also imagines Taro gently probing Capa for the story of what really happened that day, and him replying: “We were just fooling around, that’s all. Perhaps I complained that everything was far too calm and that there wasn’t anything interesting to photograph. Then some of the men started to run down the slope and I joined in as well. We went up and down the hill several times. We were all feeling good. Laughing. They shot in the air. I took several photographs…”

Though the context of the photograph is still contested, the imagined conversation does describe what probably happened that day just before a Francoist sniper returned fire from across the hills, killing the militiaman who was running down the hill for Capa’s camera. “People want the truth from war photography more than they do from any other kind of photography,” says Jimmy Fox, the Magnum picture editor who has worked with the likes of Don McCullin and Philip Jones Griffiths, “but a flat surface of an image is not the reality and never can be.”

In Spain, Capa soon developed a reputation for taking photographs whatever the risk, setting the tone for war reportage as we now know it. Taro, too, was often seen running across the battle lines with her camera, her bravery matched by her recklessness. She travelled back and forth to the frontlines, shooting what she saw, often driven by a mixture of humanity, political commitment and a shrewd understanding of the power of the photograph to shape public opinion.

Throughout 1937, Taro visited several frontlines, either with Capa or on her own. They managed to return to Paris for a short vacation in July that year, celebrating Bastille Day by dancing in the streets below Sacre Coeur and, according to Schaber, hatching “great plans for the future”. Taro then returned to Spain alone, despite the growing concerns of her friends who, having seen her recent photographs of the fighting, feared for her safety.

Defying a ban on journalists travelling to the front, she once again made her way to Brunete with the Canadian journalist Ted Allan, her close friend, travelling companion and soon-to-be lover. According to Allan’s diaries, written later, they spent “mornings afternoons and evenings together chasing stories… For three or four weeks we were constant companions. And finally, one afternoon, we ended up in her hotel room.” She told Allan: “Capa is my friend, my copain,” and said she might be travelling to China with him. “Nothing was settled,” wrote Allan. “Everything was possible.”

On Sunday 25July, the pair found themselves trapped in a foxhole near Brunete as bombs fell around them relentlessly. Taro kept on photographing, often holding her camera high above her head to capture the carnage. Allan protected her with a film camera as shrapnel and rocks fell around them. Then, as republican troops began pulling out of the area, Taro and Allan ran out of the foxhole and hitched a ride on the running board of a car while the planes continued to strafe the retreating convoy. In the chaos, the car was then rammed by an out-of-control republican tank and the couple were thrown into the dirt. Transported to a nearby field hospital, Taro died from her injuries in the early hours of the following morning. She was 26. The injured Allan did not get to see her again. According to Irene Golden, the nurse who was on duty, her last words were: “Did they take care of my camera?”

Gerda Taro’s funeral in Paris was attended by tens of thousands of mourners, including Capa, Chim and Ted Allan. Orchestrated by the French communist party, which claimed her as one of its own, it became, as Schaber puts it, “a spectacular manifestation of international solidarity with the Spanish republic”. In death, Gerda Taro became a hero. Robert Capa went on to become the most celebrated and mythologised war photographer of the century until he, too, died in action in Indochina in 1954 at the age of 40. “He never talked about her,” says the photographer Ata Kandó in The Mexican Suitcase.

Gerda Taro has now fully emerged from the shadow of Capa as an important photographer in her own right. Many photographs attributed to him – they initially shared the byline CAPA – have now been identified as hers. “She was a pioneering woman both as a photographer and a political activist,” says Ziff. “She was very liberated for her time, putting her work before any more traditional female role. She had reinvented herself – but the Capa myth was so strong that, even when she died, some newspapers described her as Robert Capa’s wife. Their lives were entwined, but she was very much her own woman, and he knew that. They both believed that their photographs could change the world and change the way people think. And their photographs did.”

Lyrics Part 2

Today I will be translating the song “Tu Kisi Rail Si” from one of my most loved movies: Masaan. Coincidentally this one is also sung by Swanand Kirkire and the lyrics are from a poem by Dushyant Kumar.  have also taken help from Varun Grover’s translation of it.

The lyrics go like:

Tu kisi rail si guzarti hai
Main kisi pull sa thartharaata hoon.

You cross like a train and I am your bridge.
And when you cross you reverberate in me.

Tu bhale ratti bhar na sunti ho
Main tera naam budbudaata hoon

Even if you don’t pay heed,
I keep murmuring your name.

Kisi lambe safar ki raaton mein
Tujhe alaav sa jalaata hoon.

On those cold nights of long journeys,
I burn your memories for warmth.

Kaath ke taaley hain,
aankh pe daale hain,
Unmein ishaaron ki chaabiyaan laga.

The locks that the world has used,
to sheild my eyes;
Use your keys of gestures to unlock them

Raat jo baaki hai
shaam se taaki hai
neeyat mein thodi kharaabiyaan laga.

The night is yet to get over,
since evening I have been waiting,
let us have a little fun, let’s be a little sly.

Main hoon paani ke bulbule jaisa
Tujhe sochoon toh phoot jaata hoon.

I’m like a water bubble,
When I think about you, I cease to exist.
or
As your thought crosses, my mind touches me and I cease to be.

Lyrics Part 1

I have always been intrigued by songs in other languages. When one of my friends translated a Malayalam song (Kerala, India) into Hindi, I realised how much is lost in translation. The film makers had not even made the effort to translate it in the true sense when they dubbed into Hindi. They just used whatever would conveniently fit the new tune. Even though what I am going to write further is unrelated, this was something that inspired me to begin a new series: to translate Hindi songs into English and to see what I can make of them. It’s more of an exercise for myself.

(P.S.: the Malayalam song that my friend translated was “Dil hai chhota sa”, I don’t remember the Malayalam version now, but it sure was one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard)

The song that I chose for part 1 was “Monta Re” from Lootera. Even though the song is a mix of Hindi and Bengali, it’s mostly Hindi. So here it goes…

Kaagaz ke do pankh le kar, udda chala jaaye re…

Jahan nahi jaana tha ye wahin chala haay re…

Umar ka ye taana baana…

Samajh na paaye re…

Zubaan pe jo moh maaya…

Namak lagaaye re…

Ke dekhe na bhaale na jaane na daayre…

Disha Hara kyamun boka… Monta re…

Translation:

It flew away with two wings made of paper…

It went away where it wasn’t supposed to go…

Neither does it understand the norms of age…

Nor does it get attracted to the worldly pleasures…

which leave a lingering taste on its tongue…

It is directionless, it doesn’t look, it doesn’t understand… My crazy, silly, mad, Heart

I just realised everything got lost in translation. It can never live up to its true essence. Nevertheless listen to the song because the music is beautiful! I guess this series will have to end here itself. 😛