Music is Life

"tum hee mere mandir, (only you are my temple)
tum hee meree poojaa, (only you are my worship)
tum hee dewataa ho (only you are my deity)
koee meree aankhon se dekhe to samaze ke tum mere kyaa ho (if someone looked in my eyes they would understand what you mean to me)"

I am listining to this on my ipod, full volume, walking down the street mouthing the words, in my big parka jacket with the hood down, shivering slightly from the cold. It's a classic Hindi song. My dad loved it, he would blare it in our car. He had it on a tape, "Lata's Golden Classics".

What a sight I must of been. I am mouthing the words with full intensity. It's 1:30 a.m., and no one is around, and I have a serene expression on my face, and have my mouth open wide like I am realizing the words not Lata ji. I am drawing implicitly on classic moves that I had seen Rekha, Zeenat Aman, Sri Devi et al, do when they would lip sync in their bollywood romps.

Me and Lioness last week were driving down the 401 at 7:45 a.m., I am only dimly awake. My brain feels like it has been skinned and it seems a supreme effort to try to act alive. Chug. Pop. Sniff. That had been our night. The full works. It's like when you go out for dinner, and you order an appetizer, an entree, and dessert.

She has blaring the early morning Freddie Macgregor reggae show on 105.5 F.M.. It's full blast, so your heart beat and the bass become one. There's some sick dub reggae playing. The soundscape is intense. And the guy singing is talking seriously, really emotionally, regarding the truth of his love.

Were both are lost in the song. A big part of our relationship (Lioness and I) is based on loving and enjoying really emotional love laden songs. In university we would go crazy jumping around to motown. Stevie was a favorite. Marvin, Aretha, Al Green, the list goes on and on.

I ask, "Do you think we feel emotions in song that we don't in "real life"?" I put up my hand to make rabbit ear gestures when I say real life.

She considers the questions. Nods her head.

"Yeah, sometimes you do go someplace you normally don't when listining to music, that you don't in real life." She takes one hand off her steering wheel and does the rabbit ear gesture in the air.

Many of my friends tease me calling me stone cold, the tin man, heartless. They would all agree that I am a nice guy. That I am not a mean spirited person. But that I do lack emotional display.

When I listen to music I feel.

I fairly atheisict in my understanding of the world (in a Buddhist sense). And I am fairly Anti-Christian. Though the Sermon on the Mount is a beautiful piece, I feel that Christianity in general today just conotates a big joke.

But when I hear Aretha Franklin sing gospel, I believe in Jesus.

I am fairly twisted though in how I feel through music. A few years back when I broke up with my girlfriend, I listened to for a week sad songs about being left. I had no right to be listining to these songs. I was the heatrtbreaker. But I felt them none the less. They spoke some truth to me. Love is understandable in song.

In real life I was emotionally unavailable. In song, I would be begging the love of my life to stay. However, how can you not have that reaction, when listining to Ottis sing "These arms of mine"?

I close by quoting Nietzsche, "In music the passions enjoy themselves".