Jack Flint and the Banjo Dossier

I've just come back to good old Shere-e-Punjab after a morning lesson. They're wrapping up; as a direct result it's difficult for both Kala and I to keep our heads in the game. I've resorted to asking her to play things while I record them, so I can learn them later. We've been working on what I think is my favorite raga so far, Kaafi (Coffee). It's played (in a version called Mishra-Kaafi) as a dorian scale, with natural 3 and natural 7 to be used at one's discretion. The composition I've learned is just beautiful; I can't wait to bastardize it with dense harmonic structures. Kala's approaching departure is my Mumbai bookend as well. It's strange to think of leaving, but I'm really excited. I've picked up a few train tickets describing a swoop from Bombay to Raxaul, an India/Nepal border town. This swoop takes me south first, to Trivandrum, Kerala (pretty much the southernmost tip of India), and up to Coimbatore and Chennai, Tamil Nadu; I'm going to get a flight to Kolkata ($40! Can you believe it?), hop a train to Raxaul and then a bus to Kathmandu. I've given myself twelve days to do this whole loop, in the hope of spending a couple of weeks wandering around Nepal before making a mad dash to Himachal Prasesh, and Rajasthan, and then back to Mumbai via Aurangabad. March will be a good month. Especially since I'm leaving the fiddle and gear at Kala's and traveling light as a feather. Fricking ten kilometers uphill hiking in Sikkim grrrr.

But after that, -snif-, I'm coming home. In fact, I bought my plane ticket yesterday to JFK (I'm going to walk around Boston for a day before flying to Minneapolis). But it's a good decision. Among other things, I've got the tools I need to carefully cop and adapt Kala's technique to DENSE HARMONIC STRUCTURES MuHuHaHaHa. I'm also on the cusp of a very big idea of music that will probably swallow the next phase of my life (more on that later). I've learned that it's not that big a deal to fly to a different country without a clue. It's no big deal at all. The biggest trouble is clearing out one's schedule and saving money. Subtext: if you're debating making a run for Argentina, you have my blessing. Stop by the Borges library in Buenos Aires for me, please.

On the home front: Anshuman and Keziah are now taking care of a cute puppy that they've named Boris. He's getting bigger, but mostly fat; he craps all over and bites and all that puppy stuff. It's hilarious to watch, because I was probably twice as ridiculous with Ixtlan (who I miss). They speak in complete sentences to the dog and expect him to understand. It's like something out of a cartoon. The funniest development in the situation, however, is the TV/DVD combo that Anshuman has thrown in to sweeten the deal for Keziah, since Boris is 'not her dog'. When Anshuman is at work, Keziah watches the dog and American movies at the same time. The kicker is that it's all rental! It's costing Anshuman some 400 rupees a day--maybe a fifth of his salary as a call center manager. Boris is a more annoying puppy than Ixtlan was (although she was plenty annoying), and this stems largely from his constant whimpering. He whimpers when he's alone, surrounded by people, picked up, put down, just whimpers. He's whimpered through Tomb Raider II, Raising Helen, Van Helsing, and Star Wars III--all of which I can hear down the hall. Not knowing what movie is what, I judge them by their scores; I hated Van Helsing when I saw it, but the music is really exciting. I peeked in during a scene of some movie starring Jennifer Lopez and Michael Vartan, and for a split second I was elated that they had rented Alias and disappointed that the Alias production crew had cast Jennifer Lopez. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I realized it couldn't be Alias because what idiot would cast Jennifer Lopez, Ben Affleck's ex for crying out loud, on a show starring Jennifer Garner?! Nobody, that's who. This is what I have to look forward to, returning to the country of "cool", of Nirvana (although I suppose in a very roundabout way, this is considered common ground), The Olsen twins, and tabloids. The country where everybody drives, where everybody does their own laundry in automatic machines, where almost nobody is bilingual. But very briefly, on the other hand, I'm looking forward to frozen pizzas, Little Debbies (oh yeah), pianos (very few pianos in India), not being constantly stared at, not having to shove people to get off a train, running water all day, people letting go after you shake hands instead of holding on like a limp fish, and well-made tools.

Recent reads: Of Mice and Men, a collection of Thurber stories, A Farewell to Arms. For my imminent departure I have carefully selected, from a dozen used book sellers on MG road, 'Our Mutual Friend' by Charles Dickens. I can't wait to crack it open.