It did matter

6.30am. The blue bus screeches, coming to a sudden halt in front of my house. The sky would have just started to bleed and I would walk past the wooden gates to the doors which jolted open. If you are lucky, you can sleep through quiet music. Else drowsy, half asleep, singing along “Crawling” under…

Remembering Nusrat

The tempo rising steadily, the chorus matching up with the fast notes and then, Nusrat’s voice hits an ecstatic high.  Inadvertently I close my eyes. “Allahoo hoo… Allahoo.. allah” slowly fading into background. If it had not been for my father’s broad music taste, which I thought was a bit bizarre(even eccentric) during my childhood because he chose…