Gossip kella
I am a sweet young thaaaanggg from this sunny little dot on the world map. It's a pretty place if u visit, I'm not blogging to promote tourism or some other mundane thing like that. I'm here to talk about life, happenings and music on this sun-kissed little speck on the Indian ocean. 'Kella' simply means lass in the native Sinhalese and and the universal law applies; lasses love to gossip. Well, we had a three wheeler driver named gossip "aiya" in the recent past. 'Aiya' means big brother BTW. I wonder what's up with him these days. Anyway, a big shout out to you Mr. Gossip Aiya! Big fan!
So, moving on,these words are written while riding a bus, an air conditioned one at that. I am actually a medical doctor by profession, unlikely, yes, but facts are facts. I have these ramblings which generate in that overflowing think tank of mine, sometimes quietened sometimes not. So I am on the way to Horana, a (sub) suburban town some 30 odd km off the capital city of Colombo. From where I come from, a "kolamba kaakka" (Colombo crow) is the equivalent to a New York-er, well at least I would like to think so, hehe. But Horana is getting to me slowly, a "Horana kaakka"? It doesn't quite have that same ring though, does it?
So on this beautiful June morning, here I am on the way to work. It is one of those days my earphones suddenly stop working. Sri lankan bus music FTW! (I just learnt what FTW meant, I had to use it, especially since the bus driver is totally going FTW with another private bus.) Some music is better than no music. This music is loud and the its a biscuit-kudu (biscuit crumbs) beat (it actually sounds like saying ''biskut kudu- biskut kudu- biskut kudu- biskut kudu'' with a bit of a punch of course) . They play this thing called the octopad. It's a hollow electronic beat-machine which sounds like knocking two empty tin cans together. It creates a "takarang" (metal roofing sheets) noise but also a "kick", in the butt i wish, but sadly not. (btw, biscuit kudu is a phrase courtesy of Gem on E fm. You pranked me once, so you owe me this much mister!)
And there is bus TV too. They usually screen a recording of a live musical show of one of these "biscuit kudu" bands complete with back up dancers (dancing girls). I recall once the frontman calling out to the "dancing boys la" in the audience. I was rolling my eyes in my head. Couldn't exactly roll my eyes in public as some people were actually enjoying it; you cant blame them, these bus rides can get boring and this stuff is very entertaining - in an amusing, why the hell am I watching this kinda way, but none the less. It's like watching Geetha aunty and Mervin uncle judging singers together. Gross but watchable. And the sad thing is that most of these musicians are quite talented. I hear some pretty good voices, guitarists, drummers, etc. Even the dancing girls can actually dance, although their choreography is something else. It's sad to see such talent go to waste.
So what does bus music signify? A cheapness for taste? Is it a cross section of the mindset of the average Sri lankan youth? And why do these musicians produce this kind of meaningless "goma" (cow-dung) music? For the money? I mean they have families and mouths to feed too. Is this the only way they could market music? An endless supply of cow-dung to meet the demand? I honestly cannot see any Pundit Amaradevas, Nanda Malinis, Sunil Edirisinghes or even a Gypsies in the making. What will happen when the era passes? (It is already passing by, not to mention the dearly missed idols Clarence, Milton, Jothi etc.) As I said in one of my previous posts, I am not the god of music, or any god at that, but I am concerned, nevertheless. If anything could change the world, its music! Music unites. Music saves. And I truly believe so!
"Neon heart, day-glow eyes
The city lit by fireflies
They're advertising in the skies
And people like us"
Bono of U2- the city of blinding lights
I am a sweet young thaaaanggg from this sunny little dot on the world map. It's a pretty place if u visit, I'm not blogging to promote tourism or some other mundane thing like that. I'm here to talk about life, happenings and music on this sun-kissed little speck on the Indian ocean. 'Kella' simply means lass in the native Sinhalese and and the universal law applies; lasses love to gossip. Well, we had a three wheeler driver named gossip "aiya" in the recent past. 'Aiya' means big brother BTW. I wonder what's up with him these days. Anyway, a big shout out to you Mr. Gossip Aiya! Big fan!
So, moving on,these words are written while riding a bus, an air conditioned one at that. I am actually a medical doctor by profession, unlikely, yes, but facts are facts. I have these ramblings which generate in that overflowing think tank of mine, sometimes quietened sometimes not. So I am on the way to Horana, a (sub) suburban town some 30 odd km off the capital city of Colombo. From where I come from, a "kolamba kaakka" (Colombo crow) is the equivalent to a New York-er, well at least I would like to think so, hehe. But Horana is getting to me slowly, a "Horana kaakka"? It doesn't quite have that same ring though, does it?
So on this beautiful June morning, here I am on the way to work. It is one of those days my earphones suddenly stop working. Sri lankan bus music FTW! (I just learnt what FTW meant, I had to use it, especially since the bus driver is totally going FTW with another private bus.) Some music is better than no music. This music is loud and the its a biscuit-kudu (biscuit crumbs) beat (it actually sounds like saying ''biskut kudu- biskut kudu- biskut kudu- biskut kudu'' with a bit of a punch of course) . They play this thing called the octopad. It's a hollow electronic beat-machine which sounds like knocking two empty tin cans together. It creates a "takarang" (metal roofing sheets) noise but also a "kick", in the butt i wish, but sadly not. (btw, biscuit kudu is a phrase courtesy of Gem on E fm. You pranked me once, so you owe me this much mister!)
And there is bus TV too. They usually screen a recording of a live musical show of one of these "biscuit kudu" bands complete with back up dancers (dancing girls). I recall once the frontman calling out to the "dancing boys la" in the audience. I was rolling my eyes in my head. Couldn't exactly roll my eyes in public as some people were actually enjoying it; you cant blame them, these bus rides can get boring and this stuff is very entertaining - in an amusing, why the hell am I watching this kinda way, but none the less. It's like watching Geetha aunty and Mervin uncle judging singers together. Gross but watchable. And the sad thing is that most of these musicians are quite talented. I hear some pretty good voices, guitarists, drummers, etc. Even the dancing girls can actually dance, although their choreography is something else. It's sad to see such talent go to waste.
So what does bus music signify? A cheapness for taste? Is it a cross section of the mindset of the average Sri lankan youth? And why do these musicians produce this kind of meaningless "goma" (cow-dung) music? For the money? I mean they have families and mouths to feed too. Is this the only way they could market music? An endless supply of cow-dung to meet the demand? I honestly cannot see any Pundit Amaradevas, Nanda Malinis, Sunil Edirisinghes or even a Gypsies in the making. What will happen when the era passes? (It is already passing by, not to mention the dearly missed idols Clarence, Milton, Jothi etc.) As I said in one of my previous posts, I am not the god of music, or any god at that, but I am concerned, nevertheless. If anything could change the world, its music! Music unites. Music saves. And I truly believe so!
"Neon heart, day-glow eyes
The city lit by fireflies
They're advertising in the skies
And people like us"
Bono of U2- the city of blinding lights
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