For Mr.R : I Hope You Dance

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
and when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances but they’re worth taking
Loving might be a mistake but it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance (time is a wheel in constant motion always)
I hope you dance (rolling us along)
I hope you dance (tell me who wants to look back on the years and wonder)
I hope you dance (where those years have gone)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

Dance (time is wheel in constant motion always)
I hope you dance (rolling us along)
I hope you dance (tell me who wants to look back on the years and wonder)
I hope you dance (where those years have gone)

I hope you dance
I hope you're dancing
I hope you're dancing
I pray you're dancing
I hope you dance

Mr.R, here's something to brighten your day :)

Mr R at Dudhsagar

While I was in Mumbai, Mr. R went on an overnight trek to the Dudhsagar waterfalls. Here is his account of it.

This is an account of just one of many wildgoa treks to Dudhsagar. I was lucky to be in Goa for this trip (28 October 2007).

It almost didn't materialise, thanks to a derailment at Castle Rock. Thankfully, a weekend later, after announcements had been made online & in the press, we were set.

I met with Clinton (at long last!) during this trip, and his dedication to matters relating to the environment, wildlife & waste management is truly inspirational.

Anyway, to get back to my account, I met up with Clinton in Margao, & we then made our way to the railway station, where we met two more participants. A quick ticket purchase, lunch (delicious by the way, & right at the station, reasonably priced), and we boarded the train to Collem. We met another participant on the train, & yet another met as at Collem, making us a grand total of six, just right for a trip like this. Too large numbers detract from the experience. Size does matter, you see.

The train journey took us through some spectacular countryside, but also, sadly, we saw huge swathes of land turned to wasteland by mining activity. We crossed a once-beautiful river, now turned into a horrible brown sewer. Shame.

At Collem railway station we made a few last-minute purchases, & then we were on our way.

We followed the railway tracks for a while, and then took a path that led us via a village called Sonauli, & then on to the foot of the falls. Clinton reckons it was a trek of about 13-14 km.

A word to the wise: make a check list for a trip like this. I hadn’t worn appropriate footwear, so I slipped & slid a lot of the way. Also managed to slip into a stream so my backpack (with my dry change of clothes & my phone) got a dunking.

I also didn’t remember to bring along a torch. Thankfully there were 3 torches between the six of us, so we were all right.

By about 7 pm or so, we set up camp as it was getting really dark. Clinton had brought a tent, which we pitched fairly easily, even though we all suddenly became experts on the subject, each with their own rationale for how it should be done & why. Eventually only two of our group used the tent (even though it could easily have accommodated four, perhaps even five) ; the rest of us preferred to sleep under the stars. We did use the tent flap to keep our gear safe & dry, though.

We also got a fire going, using dead wood from around the area to fuel it. It was a real job casting about in the dark for just the right logs & branches, as it pitch dark by then. It was a still, cloudy night, with just the occasional hoot of the train engine to break the silence. Heavenly.

Then it was supper time. Some hot noodle soup (courtesy Clinton) to complement the cold packed meals the rest of us had brought along.

By the light of the camp fire (and along the way earlier) Shrini gave me an impromptu photography lesson, for which I am ever grateful. Really learned a lot, thanks.

By about 10 pm or so we hit the sack. We slept like logs, most of us. The fire must have died out in the early hours of the morning.

In the morning, when we woke up (7 am or so), we cleared the area. We gradually began to be joined by a family of hungry monkeys. Nevertheless, we managed to wash down some hot lemon tea & to roast some sausages, using the tent pegs for skewers, before one of the monkeys ran off with the rest of my breakfast.

We then headed for the falls, a good steep climb taking us to the middle where we were able to get a swim or a dip. Bands of curious monkeys followed us some of the way. The scenic beauty here is truly breath-taking.

Our senses rejuvenated, we climbed further until we got up to the level where we encountered the railway tracks again. More stupendous views of the falls, above & below us.

We then wended our way to the Castle Rock stop, where in a matter of a few minutes a train engine very obligingly turned up, and stopped to let us all board. This was a nice slow train, so it lent further opportunities for picture-taking, butterfly-watching, etc. A good hour or so later, we were back in Collem.

Lunch at the station; about an hour and a half later, we got the train back to Margao. This time Shrini showed us his origami skills, two specimens of which are still safely with me.

All too soon, we were back in Margao, where most of us dispersed.

A big thank you to Clinton for organising this trip.

Perlman at the Barbican - A review

Mr.R's review of the Perlman recital at the Barbican.

Itzhak Perlman, violin
Bruno Canino, piano

Schubert: Rondo brilliant in B minor
Beethoven: 'Spring' Sonata

Richard Strauss: Sonata in E flat major
Encore pieces (at least 5 or 6 of them)

We were privileged to hear Itzhak Perlman play yesterday.

The Schubert was exquisitely played. I have heard it played before, but Perlman made it his own. It always amazes me to watch Perlman play. He uses no shoulder-rest, and it always seems to me that his violin is a little too small for his frame, and that his fingers seem so pudgy that you almost expect less-than perfect intonation as a result, but far from it. He makes the playing seem so effortless, so easy, so relaxed. His choice of bowing seems so natural, "just right" for the piece he is playing, there seems nothing contrived about it. Reams have been written about the Perlman tone, and we got it all yesterday.

Canino is an excellent accompanist, caressing every minute detail of the score. His hands flew all over the keys, and every so often his left leg would flail about as he emphasised a musical point.

The Spring Sonata is a standard in the violin sonata repertoire, and was played again in Perlman's inimitable style, chamber music at its best, as the opening theme, and then the second subject, was passed back & forth from violin to piano. The Adagio was dreamy, the Scherzo was witty and brief, and the Rondo was another charming, polite, sometimes animated dialogue between the two instruments.

After the interval, we had the Richard Strauss sonata. I have not heard this played so often, but it is a delightful piece. it is unmistakably Straussian, and I thought I could detect little hints of his tone poems in the dramatic opening, played with the verve & panache that it demanded. The second movement smacked a little of Rosenkavalier, while the last movement sounded heroic, almost worthy of Heldenleben. It is a tragedy that Strauss did not write more chamber music. Opera's gain has indeed been a relative loss to chamber music.

We were then treated to a succession of encore pieces. the page turner carried a whole stack of works that Perlman flipped through, as he decided what to play for us, and his asides with his witty puns and mischievous anecdotes went down very well with the audience. For instance, he played Tchaikovsky's Song without Words (Chanson sans paroles), and introduced the piece by telling us it was dedicated by the composer to a friend who was imprisoned for a very long time, for a minor misdemeanour. ("sans paroles". Get it?)

He also played Apres un Reve (Debussy), and some works that I had not heard before, by composers that I had not heard about before, but were nevertheless perfect encore pieces with the right mix of lyricism and virtuosity, and length.

A great concert, one had been looking forward to for a long time, and it met every expectation.