In awe of Coke Studio…
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The other day, someone who read my blog (I know it’s hard to believe that just like it’s hard to believe you are reading now!) concluded that I write less and complain more. Well, I told him I’ve got the divine right to rant and he, the divine wrong to get offended. But I guess he had a point. My writing is bleak and I ought to apply the positive elements too, and most importantly, try to project myself as less of a loser than I already am.
Movies and Music are my closest friends. Since I’ve already done a bland piece on cinema, I’ll try to replicate its *success* with a on songs. No, no, I won’t be listing out ’20 Names in Music’. That won’t happen for a very simple reason: I don’t know much about music except that it’s almost like a medicine that puts the heal in health. So here’s what I’ll do. I’ll just talk about the songs I got hooked to lately and what makes them so special.
Before I get started, I must confess I’m smitten by Coke Studio. For those who aren’t aware of it, go Google it. It’s one of the finest things to have ever come out of Pakistan and you can’t afford to miss it. There are hundreds of musical gems flowing thanks to this TV Show. And one such song that has been at the top of my personal chart is ‘Mori Araj Suno’. This song by Tina Sani is electric, to say the least. It is Sufism meet God meet Tina Sani meet talented musicians meet Sufism. Perfect harmony.
Besides, do check out Nawai Ney. It is a melting pot of flute, violin, drums and everything else that pitched in well with Tina Sani’s tuneful voice, powerful words and the chorus of three pretty girls. Needless to say, Sufi music has this unexplainable purity that engages mortals with our so-called Creator and back.
Arieb Azhar’s Husn-e-Haqiqi too belongs to the same stable. Here, Khwaja Farid-inspired lyric questions the vanity behind naming Almighty and draws parallel between nuances that goes unnoticed in our day-to-day existence. And then there is also his Na Raindee Hai which extols the virtue of truth and invokes the supreme power as well as Bulleh Shah in the concluding line. I’m in awe, is a gross underunderstatement.
Add Arif Lohar & Meesha Shafi’s spirited Jugni and Zeb & Haniya’s Afghani folk number Bibi Sanam Janem to the list and you’re a fan for life. And please let Sanam Marvi’s Pritam tickle your musical curiosity.
For those who aren’t Sufially-inclined and found the aforementioned reccos dull, either go stab yourself with a plastic knife or try Damien Rice’s The Volcano and Rootless Tree. The haunting but assuasive cello at the very beginning sets the tone for the song and the two beautiful singers with melancholic swagger do the rest.
Enjoy.
