Indian sounds on Tracks

Hi folks,

Deirdre is so sweet and supporting that she has started to plug our project and blog on her weekly world music radio show Tracks! Have a fair listen, not only for our sake but also for Deirdre and Rory's good selection of varied world music tunes!

Life FM is transmitting London, but easily to catch in your room through the wonders of internet radio, yay. No need to worry if you miss it, cos the last show is always archived and soon podcasts will be available.

Tracks show on Myspace
and a little piece about us
or straight to the radio

We spent the last few days celebrating Diwali, recording music sessions with the Dewara family and driving a motorbike on sandy desert roads in total darkness. More on that later in the week....

Some new pics

ravanatha player fella

'indian citizens, cows are not supposed to eat garbage'
(although they like and do it)

Diwali day, monkey eating fresh holy flower garlands from altar.
They're holy, so they can.

side road past the Pushkar lake

Maarten and Sunil enjoying view from hilltop above the Dewara Saregara family home

Some Bharaty sounds.....

to download (right click on the link/name and save as...)! (unlimited now from Maarten's server, yay!)
click on the blue links below and have an eavesdrop or two into the Indian & Rajasthani psyche........

Professor Moneyplant. A comedy telly serie from Punjab about money hustling in a college. bizarre slapstick. You can hear some talk too. Those trumpet synth tunes are great. I've to look up who composes the music and interludes, wrote it in the notepad....


Some composer - Professor Moneyplant (end tune)

Recorded from a movie about hindu gods and some earth families.
Luscious sitar drones, sweet talk between Vishnu and Shiva....but then as the gong sounds, horror strikes. oh no!


Vishna-Shiva raga song & dramatic scene!

Rural folk sounds from the forest people in Chhattisgarh, recorded from Radio Rajasthan. The state of Chhattisgarh is located in the middle-east of India and one of the few places where people still live in the jungle. It's a bit hectic in Chhattisgarh since a few weeks, as rebels and police are fighting each other over control of the small jungle state. One radio report (mis)said: *20 police men have been ambushed and 15 are missing. Since the bodies have not been found, they are feared dead*. Oh dear. Luckily the folk songs I recorded sounded lovely, like this one.


Unknown Artist - Chhattisgarh folk song

Bollywood classics at Ajmer FM! Yes, every night, every station, too much.
I liked this one best, accordeon folk whatever.


Unknown Artist - Classic Bollywood song

Funky interlude at 94.3 FM, Ajmer, I like the singing phone-in.


94.3 FM rip

Short radio interludes and ads, ch-ching. They're more fun that the ones you're used to.


Interludes & Ads


Kiddie advert

warzone Pushkar, this morning. As kids were still throwing firecrackers on this 2nd day of Divali. 3 minutes of live rooftop bombing.


warzone Pushkar - firecrackers galore

from Ajmer to Pushkar & the music of the Saregama family

Arrived at Pushkar yesterday in the early evening yesterday, only to see the hill on the other side of the lake burning vividly. The fire stopped itself after a few hours of downcircled patterns. Or stopped by human hands. Who knows.

But first some Ajmer stuff.
The last 2 days of our 7 day Ajmer stay, we were guests at the Singh family with father Purfinder inviting us, all through the web magic of CS. To our surprise we even got a whole house to ourselves, as we could have a vacant house of a friend of the Singh family a few miles down the road, inbetween rocky dusty mountains. We couldn't believe our luck.

It was certainly welcome as our double room at the humble hotel Bhola got a bit too small and messy after spending nearly a week there, being cramped together and belly aching the way we were. We stayed long enough in the hotel that the staff seemed to hold us in awe for being around in Ajmer all this time, since any other tourists merely spent a night there on their way to Puskhar. They probably thought weird of us, so we played our roles well too in a few confusing scenario's. Like when Hindu god pics are hung around in the hotel restaurant with mickey mouse and donald duck right next to it, it was faith that we had to play with it. Ah well, nothing exciting but it kept us as the hotel's favorite tourist pets that everyone had to come and see. So they did and they every day or so, som staffmember brought a friend along, stuttering some random words in English. It was fun for most of the times, if the mood fitted, which it didn't always in our cramped and digestive state.
Ok, back to that sad sad moment of departure. On leaving we had to shake the hands of every staff member present, so that was a pretty genuine experience in itself on hotelling in Ajmer. Yeah, I kinda write this with a certain irony attached to it, not to make fun of the kind hotel staff in any way, but more aimed at ourself for fooling around during our stay. They didn't mind us either, I think.

Oh yes, the Singh family. Purfinder, the father of the house, prepares young Rajasthani men to get into the military. For this their physical condition must be above standard and they receive basic education on maths, general knowledge and hindu. Most of the are from poor families in small villages and they hope to get accepted by the army through these preparations so they can get a good job. In India, working in the military gives a high status within society and offers good chances for a career. We were well looked after by the family, perhaps too well as we even got tea delivered in the morning to the K9 house. Not to mention all the gorgeous homecooked veggie dishes and pancakes made by Purfinder's sweet wife at every time of the day, the good advice we got about travelling in India. Also how we got picked up many times and delivered as human packets to our point of destination. For all this, we thank the Singhs for their hospitality.

The city people in Ajmer (500.000 inhabitants) seem to have a certain complex about neighbouring village Pushkar (33.000 inhabitants), as the tourists only come through Ajmer as a stopover, not to spend time there. Every day people wanted to refer us to Pushkar or help us to get there and we always got confused stares when we said that we stayed in Ajmer for a few days. Many times we hearf *why you here?* or shouts of *hey friend, this Ajmer, not Pushkar*. Yes, the positivity gleamed.
It kinda was like a deja-vu of the Delhi experience in our first week. C'mon people of Ajmer, take some pride in your city...even when it's a smoggy, traffic congested and not so exciting place. We met loads of good people here. So there, our praise for Ajmer!

We didn't only dwell around doing nothing, being fed and pampered. Earlier last week we had met Dewara Saregama at the post office, who invited us to his mountain home to come and listen to his family playing. We had not even started looking for Rajasthani musicians, so meeting Dewara came by perfect coincidence and we were happy to come and visit him and his family on tuesday evening to get things started for the musical project. We didn't know what to expect but it turned out as an amazing evening. Descending from a bloodline of court musicians, dating 300-400 years back, Dewara told us that the Saregama caste always had music and painting as their prime skill since mughul times up to now. We took a taxi to their house, located in the hills on the outskirts of Ajmer. The family lives in a small yet cosy house, tucked away on the side of a mountain and whitened to keep it cool inside from the sun. Father, mother, grandmother, son and 2 daughters all live together in 3 small rooms. For once there was none of the luxury that we experienced at other Indian homes and we felt warmed and humble to be invited by these kind people who didn't have much to share, except the skill of their music and art. When we entered the house, Dewara and his daughters first showed us their colorful paintings and detailed pencil drawings, which were done in different styles and techniques. Not just some, but a whole mountain of stacked prints. Beautiful creations, as a skillful glance toward the upcoming music session. After some talking about the methods, the meanings and so on, the father, son and daughters picked up the instruments. Father Dewara on harmonium and singing, his son on the tabla and daughters on the shruti's and vocals. One after the other traditional Rajasthani raga was played as these amazing sounds echoed in the small room, while Dewara sang in a deep drone-pitched voice to glide from one floating tone to the other in the cunning vocal tradition known to Rajasthan. Daughter Sharwa had won a folk singing contest in Ajmer the year before and she soon proved why, as her soothing voice leaped into a higher pitch with little nuances and added side shrieks. And then she still excused herself for not having prepared nor practiced the weeks before.
The variety of the raga's played, was intense and towards the end the father also picked up a ragged guitar that he had set in a special Indian semi-open tuning. He played in such a way that it sounded inbetween Arabic and classical Indian styles. Only to add more unique quality to their earnest folk sound. After the session the daughters started making food for us whether we were hungry or not. We couldn't refuse this kind gesture dressed in a nicely scented meal and we looked on how they were rolling fresh chappatis and making a nice spicy pepper-onion curry. Ofcourse it tasted great, it felt mighty yummy in the tummy.

They even invited us to celebrate Divali with them in their Ajmer mountain house. Divali is tomorrow and is like the Indian equivalent to christmas, because there are little flickering lights everywhere in the streets, on the houses and kids are setting off firecrackers and rockets in the streets. It will be nice to celebrate divali with them, especially after that great evening on tuesday. We'll have to see if we can get back to Pushkar, as there might be no buses or taxi's if everyone is at home celebrating it.... or we just relax and sleep in their little house, as Dewara initially offered.

Later this week we will return to them to record a longer session, as tuesday evening was more of an introduction to get to know each other. Also my audio set-up for the microphones didn't work good in every song, so it's better that we re-record some songs and more new songs. We hope to turn this into a proper album for them and give them all recordings, as they don't have any clear recordings of their songs nor the recording equipment to do it themselves. It would be even better if we can help them getting it released properly on a European/US label! All is open. More about this soon.

In light of all this, the hospitality in India has been really sincere and superb so far and can not be compared to our own western hemispheres. Here a family will take you in as a guest while all members of family take such good care for that you feel like being part of the family. It's a very inclusive feeling you get from all the sharing. Feels good.

On Pushkar: as I opened our iron balcony door, a red arsed monkey jumped away onto the electrical wire pole. He showed me his teeth. I think he didn't liked me, just a guess. The whole family of monkeys were on the other side of the alley and the local people below threw stones at them as they don't like the monkeys either. Monkeys have also learned to throw stones at people. Lucy from London, who we met this morning (well, 2 Lucy's even), found out the hard way a few days ago, getting a nice shower of rocks by the cheeky ones.
There are 2 types of monkeys here. One type are the red arsed monkeys, who look like smaller baboons. The other are the blackfaced monkeys, who seem more holy and like to spend time down at the holy lake. They seem less aggressive too as people can walk around them. Hmmm, but to trust any of these monkey here? nah.....

Ok, pics galore.
This time Ajmer, the folk session and even Pushkar pics taken this morning.

Errr, one last one of Delhi, a bigger pic of the red fort! Just for Ian.

the veggie tent camp. just around the corner of our hotel.

no travel is easy here, at least they're honest about it. rock on. :)

kid selling nuts that look like peppers. actually taste like a watery chestnuts. yum.

gypsy grandmother with smaller pile

here be wild piggies in the city centre alleys.

open sewers. here we saw a wild pig eating a sewer rat, alive.

skillful man who makes/restores vintage harmoniums in his workshop. guess I'll just have to get one.

view from the red Jain temple in central Ajmer.

golden room in the Jain temple. golden tower which is like the heaven of the Jains
Here more about the Hindu sect of Jains and Jainism. And yeah, the signs ofcourse resemble something completely different than the obvious.

Bagh park next to the Ana Sagar lake

Maarten enjoying Ana Sagar lake view

side view lake of temples, built by Shah Jahan in 1600's.

lone boy at temple corner

sweet gypsy kids, wanting to have their picture taken

view from lake to the hills nearby

new Jain temple outside Ajmer, where Hari Singh and his friend took us by motorbike.

golden door to temple

massive buddha inside

chaiwallah (tea vendor) Maretane Rayka. Raika gypsy and proud of it. He reminded me of friend Valery.

view from our borrowed K9 house

farm field behind the Singh's house

Singh family and us

the Saregama family in session


smiling dadi-ji (grandmother) who was humming along next to us

M at work

Pushkar: blackface monkeys next to the holy lake where pilgrims can bathe

Peek-a-moo

Pushkar view to one of the many temples on hill

Enter Rajasthan

Midnight debut on indian rails.
Waiting at track no. 10, our train to Ajmer on the Ahmedabad line has no hurry to arrive timely either. The platform is crowded and people sit everywhere, waiting for whenever it will arrive with a glare of acceptance in their eyes. We adapt to this in the same relaxed manner, not annoyed by it as we would be back home. What gives. At least there is entertainment on the other side when an arriving train dumps litter onto the tracks, prompting many rats to crawl from any hole between the rocks and steel rails. No square meter without a rat, we reckoned. Not just any rat, but big fat ones with bald, greasy spots on them. Old Delhi train station rats gotta eat too, y'know. You can see certain clans fighting each other for the food and the big ones take it all while the smaller younger rats can only have the scraps of the scraps. Meanwhile, little kids or adults of the lowest caste carelessly walk along down the tracks, looking for waste plastic bottles to collect. Rats neither scared of them, but likewise they not of them. Life in the gutter has its own ecosystem of natural respect, how unreal that might sound.

Oh, if you're male and you need to go to the toilet for a #1, just hop on the tracks like the numerous Indian males and do your thing right there. Perhaps on a rat's nest if you're brave/dumb enough. We don't feel the urge to try these track toilets on the spot.

Train does arrive an hour later, despite vaguely head wigging officials referring to more waiting time. We stumble with our gear into the train and found the right sleeper wagon at first try. It's really not difficult looking for your wagon number, as long as you look on the printed lists before, which are hanged on the platform board.
In the night train, life transforms into a huddled sit on bed bunks with many foreign and local passengers, no seating spot unused. Flashing past the numerous suburbs of Delhi, the smoggy dust gives everything a red brownish gloom. Even way past midnight, life is very much awake with shantytown houses lit and many small factories doing their nightshift, filled with working souls. We share our bunk spot with a Korean couple and a Spanish couple, both on their way to the holy town of Pushkar. Across us sit a Rajasthani family, one generation big. While they seem modestly poor and do not seem to come from the city, the females of the family are all spotlessly dressed in colorful and shiny sari dresses, gowns and longish shawls. They vacantly stare at us foreigners, half listening in to our travel-like introductions to one another. It's as if the family looks on from an invisible yet marked social sideline, as they do not interact with us beyond eye contact. Especially the younger females of the family, in their late teens , maybe early twenties, keep looking to us longer when the rest of the family has turned their attention elsewhere.

Slowly but surely, everybody around starts falling asleep on the steady rhythm of the tracks while me and the Spanish woman stay awake longer to talk some more, scribbling some thoughts and being the nite owls we confess to be. The Rajasthani girls fall asleep in crouched positions that they seem used to, but that would give us instant cramps. One has her knees pulled up to her chest while sharing the bunk with her sister, who uses a square carton box as pillow. With sari's drawn over their shoulders and half covering their faces, they graciously lie there. It's a humble and endearing view and I peek at it with a certain voyeuristic shame, cos I can't take my eyes their pose. Some of the older men of the family come around to silently take care of the women by covering them with patched blankets.
Snoring sounds, muffled chatter and laughter fills the wagon while we roll on, down south to the vast dry lands of Rajasthan. From time to time trains screech by, temporarily waking some in a shock, or the sound of the train blowing it's horn while the rhythms of the tracks *kadengkadeng and so forth* continue.

I guess I better get some sleep too.

Early morning arrival into Ajmer. Every cart pusher, riskha driver or bus shark wants to take us to Pushkar, but we keep on saying *nahi, abhi nahi* (no, not now). And so we stayed in Ajmer since a few days, where we still are.

The city isn't very big by Indian means, but certainly bigger than many Dutch cities. People here stare at us more than in Delhi. Especially Rajasthani locals and gypsies, but they also leave foreigners alone more than in Delhi. They seem proud, yet kind and carry a certain humour in them with a little bite to it. Also the women here behave differently than their more introvert hindustani and muslim counterparts in making contact and are way more direct and open. Some younger females even jeer us in provoking and cheerful manner, which kinda makes you feel turning red.

oh, while Maarten lay asleep due to a slight Delhi belly, I had a bizarre nite few days ago.
I was out late for a walk on my own to find an internet cafe and suddenly heard some muzak and singing coming from a big courtyard. There was a double wedding ceremony going on with qawwali sufi style singing.
I was peacefully watching for a while until I got pulled in by the brother of one of the grooms and I was obliged to dance with them on Rajasthani folk disco, alongside tunes of reggaeton and brazilian samba. Pretty bizarre I tell you, as 300 folks all turned their heads to me, gazing at will, while guys taking faux-violent turns to dance with me (women were not dancing), people touching my blond curly hair, while I talked to them in broken Hindi since not many talked English. They finally did allow me to sit down after the disco system crashed when one of the switches blew. My luck. Iliyas, 23, spoke quite good English and I could have a better conversation with some while he translated. He got me some 5 star class wedding food too, tasty spicey stuff and cake baked sweets! yummy to my tummy. In all I stayed around for 1,5 hour, shook the hands of the grooms who I had feared to be angry at me to divert the attention away of their ceremony. But they didn't seem to mind that at all, possibly I was a welcome diversion.
Pity that Maarten missed this, also to film it as it was a genuinely inviting yet hectic experience, wow.

The next day I walked past a big palace just next to the centre and I asked the military guy guarding the gate what it was for. He said it was for big weddings for those who could afford it and no sooner than he said this, by pure coincidence of Murphy's law, I felt a hand tapping my shoulder. *Hey, you are from Belgium!* somebody shouted and it turned out to be one of the folks from the wedding night before, recognizing me. He wanted to invite me up to the palace, as the proper wedding would soon be in full swing. That of the previous night was *just* a party for the last night before the wedding. Oh. I kindly refused his offer, especially because Maarten again was not with me and also because the guard seemed very confused and was saying *you, no invite have, not go*. The guest still tried to haul me in, telling the guard it was ok, which made it more vague for all of us. I duly thanked and wisely wandered off. Well, wisely to avoid the chaos again. ;) Let's hope next time we can both crash a wedding and enjoy and film the whole thing together. Being a foreigner alone in such uninvited moments feels mighty bizarre though warming all the same.

On Monday, we are invited to the house of a Sangana family, a musical and painter family caste that music for the Mughuls 300 years ago. We might even stay there a few nights, according to the father of the house. Should be interesting. The father is said to have 20 special Rajasthani instruments which he and his family can all play. Our camera and microphone are happy to see and listen.

Halfway the week we will move to Pushkar, where we will then *live* for 19 days in Polly's guesthouse. (thanks for the help Nine, we spoke to Polly yesterday and he and his brother still remembered you!!). Polly is from Pushkar himself originally, unlike most hotel owners there, plus he has a lot of experience in contacting regional musicians and translating to Marwari (the Rajasthani language, which is closest to the Roma -gypsy- language) since the musicians hardly speak English nor Hindi even. He has aided similar music projects like ours before, so we're truly luck-struck with this. It will really help, since setting up contacts or tracking musicians down is otherwise near impossible before the start of the Camel Fair festival in 2 weeks.

Now we're really up to date blogwise. yup yup. :)

here some still shots of Delhi, from the video cam (not clips, mind you) :

Sikh people on pilgrimage

delhi from the autoriksha

banana wallah

don't wake sleeping dogs....

Wimpy, a vegetarian McDo of some sorts..the likeness.

baby monkey in hotel

trumpets galore!

marching on

waving man, happy!

builder man

eggman backs into middle of road without looking....

and the resulting crash.


henna making before Karwa Chauth


travel happy

asleep on cart