Shriram Iyer's Blog, page 2

May 5, 2015

Where have I been?

Hello! Yes, it’s been a while. Close to a year actually, since I wrote a blog post. Where have I been all this while? Well, Mr. Life happened. That’s easy isn’t it? Just put the blame squarely on Mr. Life. In all honesty, I got lazy. The ‘sit-on-my-backside-and-do-nothing’ kinda lazy. And then there was the lack of focus. Lack of purpose. Where in the world was I heading? Was I doing the right thing by me or was I just caught up in the same whirlpool of senseless pursuit for contentment? Did I even know what contentment was or was I measuring it in the way that most of the world did? Money. Something was not right. It just wasn’t right. And something had to change. God only knew what I had to change. Err, actually I knew what had to change, I was just being….here it is again, LAZY! And then I caught a peek into what lay ahead. It didn’t look nice. It was all about decisions. Was I making decisions for myself or was I just making the decisions that were expected of me? Blog6_Taking-a-Risk-2 The list of unanswered questions was growing. And growing! I have been away trying to find answers to some. And so, have I? Umm, not really. I am still searching. So, then why am I back? Well I just missed writing posts on this forum. I did spend most of last year writing my second book. More on that in a separate blog post. So logic prevailed – if I could write tens and thousands of words for my novel, surely I could write a few hundred words for my blog post! There, I am back with the most meaningless of rambles. Hopefully, the next few posts will make more sense. Apologies for those who I left mid-way, hanging on to my last post about ‘musical dreams’. This time I will let you guys in on everything, with no breaks. No respite, whatsoever. So, tuck in and get ready to read, comment, complain, rant, rave. Anything, as long as I know you and the words I write have some sort of a relationship. Till the next post, ciao :) ‘What’s that pic for, Shriram?’ Umm that’s me making the leap!


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Published on May 05, 2015 21:53

August 15, 2014

Musical Dreams: The Shankar Effect – Part 1

Writing the ‘Musical Dreams’ thread as part of my blog has been a rewarding experience for many reasons. But mostly, it gives me a chance to look over my shoulder and re-visit some of the most amazing memories I have ever had. (Those who haven’t read the earlier pieces – please do visit the ‘My Music’ section of my blog).


PREVIOUSLY on ‘Musical Dreams’ – Winning two prestigious singing competitions in 2000 and 2001 had led to a string of performances in Auckland. This paved the way for ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ in 2004 – a concert that I had conceptualised and presented to almost 800 music lovers resulting in a downpour of affection and support from Aucklanders.


After it’s resounding success, the burning question people were asking was – what would ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ be like in 2005?


Let’s take a step back and get come more context – ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ was born out of the need to perform with freedom, without any constraints set by event organisers. The only way it could happen was if I put an event up myself. “If no one else is prepared to do it for me, I will do it by myself,” I had said to my parents.


Around the same time, Auckland was experiencing a wave of concerts by popular playback singers. Sunidhi Chauhan and Abhijit performed in 2004 and several requests and pleas had resulted in a very quick meet and greet with Abhijit. A few months later Shaan came to perform – one of the event coordinators had asked me if I wanted to sing as the opening act, with a possibility that I might sing with Shaan himself!


Duh! Of course I said yes! My hopes had taken flight again at the prospect of singing at the event. Something I hadn’t even asked for. Worst case, I would get to meet Shaan and that itself was enough for me.


However, none of it happened.


I waited around patiently, followed instructions all evening from the coordinators and hung around till the cleaners had almost wrapped up after the concert. I felt like a little puppy who had been promised food, but had been denied. Heartbreak mode had set in. Bolts of disappointment and tinges of frustration were running amok. 


The next day and a few months after the 2004 ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ event,  a dear friend and part of my team asked me over lunch, “So, what are you going to do about your show next year?”


“Next year, we will host Shankar Mahadevan,” I said, without missing a beat.


SM1


Why did I say that? And with such certainty? The events after the Shaan concert had seeded the same thought – “Why depend on someone else when I can do it myself!” But…could I really do it by myself? I mean, this was Shankar Mahadevan we were talking about. My idol, a musical genius and legend already, and the man who had captured my fascination with ‘Breathless’ in 1998!


My parents didn’t give me the funny looks I was expecting – rather they said, “Let’s do it”. High levels of confidence was all very good, but how in the world did we expect to pull of such a complex concert with a budget at least 20 times that of ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’!?


Fate has a funny way of connecting you with your desires – the doors can open quite easily, other times the gates take much longer to open than planned and most often you will never even find the gate to your wishes. And I have seen it all.


That evening a chance chat with my cousin in Mumbai opened a gate – she knew someone who organised Shankar Mahadevan shows for a living! A week later we received confirmation via our contact in Mumbai – Shankar Mahadevan wanted us to go ahead with organising his concert in Auckland.


A few months later my father visited Shankar Mahadevan in his studio. My dad informed him that I was a singer and that I would like to perform in the concert. Dad called me and relayed the message that evening –  if I wanted to perform with Shankar Mahadevan, he would need to confirm whether I was capable enough to share the stage with him – organiser or not!


A week before the concert, I was at the venue, when I received a text message from India – “Is it very cold in New Zealand?” . I checked with our contact in Mumbai and my hunch was right. Shankar Mahadevan had messaged me – ‘mere mortal’ me!


537190_538398979556168_2045158599_n


Before we knew it the time had come. After winning a million battles in the eight months that we had planned the event, we were due to pick Shankar Mahadevan from the airport. I held the bouquet with trembling hands and then there he was – in flesh and blood. “It’s so nice to meet a star,” said my mother, the first to greet him. “I am no star,” came the modest reply.


I hadn’t spoken or moved till then.”Welcome Shankar sir,” I managed somehow.


Shankar Mahadevan looked straight me, “Please call me Shankar,” he said, with a warm smile, before adding, “and you must be Shriram.”


(To Be Continued)


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Published on August 15, 2014 18:17

Musical Dreams: The Shankar Mahadevan Story – Part 1

Writing the ‘Musical Dreams’ thread as part of my blog has been a rewarding experience for many reasons. But mostly, it gives me a chance to look over my shoulder and re-visit some of the most amazing memories I have ever had. (Those who haven’t read the earlier pieces – please do visit the ‘My Music’ section of my blog).


PREVIOUSLY on ‘Musical Dreams’ – Winning two prestigious singing competitions in 2000 and 2001 had led to a string of performances in Auckland. This paved the way for ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ in 2004 – a concert that I had conceptualised and presented to almost 800 music lovers resulting in a downpour of affection and support from Aucklanders.


After it’s resounding success, the burning question people were asking was – what would ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ be like in 2005?


Let’s take a step back and get come more context – ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ was born out of the need to perform with freedom, without any constraints set by event organisers. The only way it could happen was if I put an event up myself. “If no one else is prepared to do it for me, I will do it by myself,” I had said to my parents.


Around the same time, Auckland was experiencing a wave of concerts by popular playback singers. Sunidhi Chauhan and Abhijit performed in 2004 and several requests and pleas had resulted in a very quick meet and greet with Abhijit. A few months later Shaan came to perform – one of the event coordinators had asked me if I wanted to sing as the opening act, with a possibility that I might sing with Shaan himself!


Duh! Of course I said yes! My hopes had taken flight again at the prospect of singing at the event. Something I hadn’t even asked for. Worst case, I would get to meet Shaan and that itself was enough for me.


However, none of it happened.


I waited around patiently, followed instructions all evening from the coordinators and hung around till the cleaners had almost wrapped up after the concert. I felt like a little puppy who had been promised food, but had been denied. Heartbreak mode had set in. Bolts of disappointment and tinges of frustration were running amok. 


The next day and a few months after the 2004 ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ event,  a dear friend and part of my team asked me over lunch, “So, what are you going to do about your show next year?”


“Next year, we will host Shankar Mahadevan,” I said, without missing a beat.


SM1


Why did I say that? And with such certainty? The events after the Shaan concert had seeded the same thought – “Why depend on someone else when I can do it myself!” But…could I really do it by myself? I mean, this was Shankar Mahadevan we were talking about. My idol, a musical genius and legend already, and the man who had captured my fascination with ‘Breathless’ in 1998!


My parents didn’t give me the funny looks I was expecting – rather they said, “Let’s do it”. High levels of confidence was all very good, but how in the world did we expect to pull of such a complex concert with a budget at least 20 times that of ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’!?


Fate has a funny way of connecting you with your desires – the doors can open quite easily, other times the gates take much longer to open than planned and most often you will never even find the gate to your wishes. And I have seen it all.


That evening a chance chat with my cousin in Mumbai opened a gate – she knew someone who organised Shankar Mahadevan shows for a living! A week later we received confirmation via our contact in Mumbai – Shankar Mahadevan wanted us to go ahead with organising his concert in Auckland.


A few months later my father visited Shankar Mahadevan in his studio. My dad informed him that I was a singer and that I would like to perform in the concert. Dad called me and relayed the message that evening –  if I wanted to perform with Shankar Mahadevan, he would need to confirm whether I was capable enough to share the stage with him – organiser or not!


A week before the concert, I was at the venue, when I received a text message from India – “Is it very cold in New Zealand?” . I checked with our contact in Mumbai and my hunch was right. Shankar Mahadevan had messaged me – ‘mere mortal’ me!


537190_538398979556168_2045158599_n


Before we knew it the time had come. After winning a million battles in the eight months that we had planned the event, we were due to pick Shankar Mahadevan from the airport. I held the bouquet with trembling hands and then there he was – in flesh and blood. “It’s so nice to meet a star,” said my mother, the first to greet him. “I am no star,” came the modest reply.


I hadn’t spoken or moved till then.”Welcome Shankar sir,” I managed somehow.


Shankar Mahadevan looked straight me, “Please call me Shankar,” he said, with a warm smile, before adding, “and you must be Shriram.”


(To Be Continued)


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Published on August 15, 2014 18:17

August 1, 2014

When Music Made The Film: 5 Ordinary Films With Extraordinary Music

Indian films are innately different to international films, particularly in the music department. Background scores have always enhanced the film experience, but Indian films incorporate songs into the main narrative. Sometimes the song progresses the movie along, other times it might take a break from a household drama into the lush snow-capped peaks of Switzerland! Either way, they have always been part of our films and have given significant importance to the role of the ‘music director’.


In some cases the fate of the songs in a film have been different to the fate of the films themselves. I have put together five such films that performed ordinarily at the box office, but had sparkling music that still serve as trend-setters, in my humble opinion, which might differ from yours.


1) Mera Naam Joker – Raj Kapoor poured all his energy into the film, but the film bombed. But what stayed evergreen were the songs. Shankar Jaikishen gave us songs that was carried across generations, ensuring the music is still talked about. ‘Jaane Kahaan Gaye’ and ‘Jeena Yahaan’ were the absolute picks for me.


Mera_Naam_Joker_poster


2) Dil Se – AR Rahman and Mani Ratnam have given us some of the best films with haunting compositions. But many times, Mani Sir has got it wrong, while Rahman rarely has in their partnership. In 1998, when Rahman rightly swept the awards, one could see the difference. Dil Se was way ahead of it’s time! Rahman being the smart man that he is, got Guy Pratt(who has worked with Pink Floyd, Michael Jackson to name a few!) played the famous baseline on the title track. That year his music score was light years ahead of the rest. But Dil Se performed terribly and got panned by masses and critics alike!

Dil_Se_poster


3) Jhoom Baraabar Jhoom – I thought this movie, coming from Shaad Ali was quite ordinary, given his potential as a film maker. SEL did a fabulous job but the success of the title track of ‘Jhoom Baraabar Jhoom’ and ‘Bolna Halke’ couldn’t save the film.


 


Jhoom_Barabar_Jhoom_OST


4)Prem Pujari – The Dev Anand starrer did terribly and was for me a case of a ‘good story gone wrong’. But the songs by SD Burman including ‘Phoolon Ke Rang’, ‘Rangeele Re’ etc are still alive and well in the minds of music-lovers.


Prem_Pujari


5) Aashiqui – While the movie also did very well, I have never heard anyone talk about this movie without praising the music. ALmost everyone I know, including myself feel that the music was the biggest reason the film did well. ‘Nazar Ke Samne’ and ‘Ek Sanam chahiye’ stand out for me. An interesting thought – in today’s digital age, how would Aashiqui have performed as a film, when music lovers don’t go to see a film just because the music is extraordinary?


 


Aashiqui_1


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Published on August 01, 2014 22:04

July 18, 2014

Musical Dreams: The First Gamble

So let’s do a quick recap.


A young boy migrates to New Zealand (Auckland) from India and within the first twelve months has won two prestigious singing competitions. At the age of 20, the promise of an intriguing musical journey beckons. But the big question – what next?


At the time, I was doing my bachelors in engineering at the University of Auckland and found myself questioning the future. Did I really want to be an engineer? Could I really become a singer?


The singing side of things were going really well – I was being invited to perform in every concert, at every community event and at every home / chamber music session. But there was a slight problem – the pigeonholing, the typecast phenomenon, the stereotyping mentality had taken over my repertoire.


The movers and shakers from the media community in Auckland had branded me as the ‘Udit Narayan’ of Auckland. A tag I had been grateful for, but it was also a tag that didn’t allow me to push my own boundaries. In the years that followed, I bowed down to the diktats of the organisers who in all their love for me insisted that I sing Udit Narayan songs – or at least perform the latest numbers only. According to them, a young boy like me shouldn’t be singing old songs; there were plenty of veterans to do that.


I found that view amusing and patronising – A) My family had brought me up with a love for old music and I yearned to perform those golden melodies B) It was an insult to the wide range of other singers who were also getting pigeonholed just like me. As always, there were exceptions and I am grateful to those organisers who gave me the freedom to express myself musically.


Music, which was like a breath of fresh air, the very force that liberated me, now shackled me. And to be honest, I couldn’t hold it against the event organisers either. An event organiser will do what is best for the event and really is the captain of the ship.


Late in my third year of engineering, I had expressed my frustration to my parents about how unfulfilling engineering was and how constricting the music scene was becoming. My parents made me a deal – if I finished engineering they would support me in putting up my own concert.


I could put up a theme of my own – I could choose the song list – I had the power to work with my own team of musicians – I could perform songs from all eras – I could be the captain of my ship! How liberating!


A year later, in the same month as my graduation I decided to present ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ to the music-lovers of Auckland – my debut as an organiser/performer.
Singing1


Little did I know then, that my move to put up my own show would give rise to negative forces. Auckland was brimming with well-wishers (and to this day it does), but once news of the concert floated out, my posters began to get torn, other singers who were not in my line-up called in anger and media bodies I had not partnered with expressed their disappointment.


But the real thing was this – an ocean of support rose from the community and I was flooded with best wishes. The business side of the concert was also a concern. On the Thursday before the show, my father began counting all the tickets that had been sold and announced with a mixture of excitement and panic, “I think we have a full house. Stop selling tickets!”


The night itself was one I cannot forget for many reasons – a concert hall overflowing with music lovers, musicians and singers who lit up the show and for the sheer freedom with which I sang ten songs across every decade from 1960 onwards! Everything seemed to fall in place.


When we reached home, dripping with exhaustion, my voicemail was bursting with messages. A never-ending sequence of thrilled well-wishers lifted my spirits with their kind words. For many, I had taken a significant step-up with this concert. Above everything I remember that night for the meteoric love that the people of Auckland had showered on me.


There was something unique and cherished about the sheer contentment and the pure peace I went to bed with that night. A feeling that I am yet to experience in such entirety ever since.


Ah, the incomparable bliss of music – yet another gem of a creation from the lord of all things.


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Published on July 18, 2014 19:23

July 9, 2014

Giving Birth To An Elephant – Part 2

Writer’s Block – I had heard that term floating around in the years when I had absolutely nothing to do with writing. But when I started writing a novel as a first-timer and writer’s block hit in me in it’s full flow, I was left scrambling on the internet looking for answers.


Needless to say much, I didn’t find answers on the internet or otherwise. The answer lay within me (cliche I know!). When I had written myself into a situation where the two brothers – Raj and Saurav, leave home with little money and nowhere to go, I was simply struck for ideas. Where do they go from there? Two years from the time they leave home they also had to end up in Moscow for the 1980 Olympic games. How in the world would they manage that? They would need help and a lot of money! But how!


I scratched my head for weeks, wondering if I should alter that plot point. But them storming out of home, just felt so natural! And that’s when I CREATED another character, an Aunt! In hindsight, I was grateful for creating Aunt Sheela, because she went on to become a favourite character for many readers.


Which brought me to an interesting question – how much should a writer plan before writing a novel? Those who know me well will know that I don’t place great emphasis on planning, but prefer to just get on with it. But this meant that I could write myself into tricky situations.


After the first novel, I found that a balance between planning and writing worked perfectly for me. I have met many aspiring authors who plan so much, that they forget to write!


When a completed draft was in front of me, the next challenge lay in finding my book a home. On April 14, 2011, I wrote my first query letter to an agent, who showed interest the very next day after reading my entire manuscript!


He gave me one week to cut down the manuscript to a 90,000 word document. I had to cut down 30,000 words – a third of the book! I don’t know how I did it, but I did and submitted a tighter manuscript at 93,000 words. A week later I had an agent!


And a month after, I had a publisher!


My first book was going to see the light of day. I had spent three years developing the book in closed quarters and now every man and his dog would give their opinion on it!


In August, 2014, I got news that the book had hit the stands. On my walk to work, I wondered if the book returned any google hits. The first search result jumped out at me – ‘review of wings of silence’.


I clicked on it….(to be continued)


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Published on July 09, 2014 01:44

June 11, 2014

Giving Birth To An Elephant

It’s odd how an ordinary evening, which might begin looking like any other evening, can alter the direction of your life significantly.


Friends who know me closely, will recall umpteen story concepts, ‘what-if’ questions and the deliberation of potential answers to the same, long into many nights. And I don’t believe I am any different to millions of others – all of us have a story in our heads. Having said that, the journey from the mind to a tangible piece of writing can be very long!


This particular evening in question was highlighted by a walk with my wife. I had just shared with her my millionth ‘what-if’ story-line and followed it up with my predictable question – “Don’t you think this would make a good movie!?”


She mulled over it longer than usual. Usual would be an instant yes or a no. “I think it’ll make a great novel. And I think you should write it.”


I thought about what she said. “I’ve rarely written more than a page.”


“Write one page at a time,” was her advice before we moved onto other topics.


My first page was written on a four-hour train journey from Melbourne to Sale, where my wife was working at the time. I was surrounded by what seemed like two rival teenage gangs who did everything but get into a fist fight. Or so I thought. Provocative stares, swear words and ‘what you lookin at’ comments went back and forth with me caught in the cross fire. It was in complete fear for my own safety that I whipped out my diary and wrote the first page of my story. And the liberation that writing a few pages gave me obliterated the anxious concern for my own well-being. In the midst of writing a romantic scene, one of the gang members sitting next to me excused himself politely past me, acknowledging that I was busy doing work only to rough up an opposite rival gang member and hold him by his collar.


After surviving the drama that followed and the timely interference by the train inspector, I arrived home and read out what I had written to my wife. I was expecting lavish praise, but instead I got just one word -”cheesy”. Gradually over that weekend, my story made the transition from a diary entry to a laptop where my tryst with a novel and my penchant for cheesiness continued.


A month later I was in Los Angeles on an MBA exchange program. The fact that I was writing a book excited me and I began sharing that piece of information like it was a birthday cake – friends, relatives, classmates, people I had just met – all of them knew my name and that I was writing a book.


Image


By the time I had finished my four months in LA, I had written over 16,000 words, most of which desperately needed another draft. Which is when a good friend said what I needed to hear. “All of us have stories we want to tell. And many of us even begin writing a chapter or two. Only if you finish the book can you lay claim to being a writer.”


Those words hung on to me like the humidity in India and I made a resolution – no matter what life threw at me, no matter how many drafts I needed and regardless of whether I would get a publisher or not, I would complete the book. And only then would I let the world know about it.


‘The Silent Winner’ became my invisible, imaginary friend that no one could see and that no one would know about. Not until I gave birth to the elephant. But somewhere while I was trying to finish an MBA, spend time with my wife, work full-time, perform in live shows, record singles, what suffered and got the least attention from me despite my continued passion to tell the story, was the book.


When I did get the time to write, a new problem emerged –  I had put my characters in a very sticky situation and I wasn’t finding answers. ‘Writers block’ had  hit me with it’s full force.


to be continued…..


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Published on June 11, 2014 20:54

June 5, 2014

Musical Dreams: Uneasy Lies the Head That…

It was 2001 and my first six months in Auckland after moving from India had been highly eventful, to say the least. As a rank outsider I had won an Auckland-wide singing competition in 2000 and people who didn’t know me began to take interest in my singing. I experienced my first radio interview and read the first article written about me in an Indian monthly newspaper. The music community was sitting up and taking notice of me.


In the November of 2000, I had the opportunity to sing for the first time at the prestigious Logan Campbell Centre to almost 3,000 people. I was part of a big, grand concert featuring musicians from India and my performance drew praise from the large crowd, encouraging me further.


Then came the biggest challenge I had faced till then – another Auckland-wide singing competition at the Logan Campbell center in 2001, the ‘Golden Voice of Auckland’ competition. Unlike the first time, I faced expectations – some my own, but some from other observers, keen to see if I managed to repeat what I had achieved in 2000. The so-called ‘crown’ on my head weighed heavily and I began to feel the pressure.


This competition once again featured Auckland’s very best and I had chosen the song ‘Pal Pal Dil Ke Pass’, a classic from Kishore Kumar. Unlike in 2000, I sang at every rehearsal, practicing hard with the six-piece orchestra for over two months. And all through I could feel my confidence levels dip drastically. Something wasn’t right. Until the night BEFORE the big day, it felt like something was missing and that I was well off track. That night I remember telling my mother that I was sure I wouldn’t win. The competition was very stiff and I just felt like I didn’t have it in me to go all the way.


Over the sizzle of the onions she was cooking, she asked, “Why don’t you sing a different song?”


I looked at her with disbelief writ all over my face. “Mom, the event’s tomorrow! And I’ve been practicing this for two months now!”


She managed to convince me and there began a spate of frantic phone calls. I called the keyboardist who was shocked beyond belief. My hopes crashed further when he said he had never heard the song! But I convinced him to just play the main chords to which he agreed after a strong round of protests.


The song had two main components – A dholak and electric guitar. I got through to the dholak player who also hadn’t heard the song either. I played it to him on the phone and he asked me to not worry about it. His vote of confidence made me feel a surge of confidence.


It was only moments before the sound check the next day that I managed to find the guitarist. He had been informed that I had made the crazy decision to change my song at the last minute. When he heard what I was planning to sing he said, “I know that song really well. Don’t worry, I’ll manage it.” I will never forget the effect those simple words had on me.


At the sound check we managed to have one awkward rehearsal, making me doubt if I was doing the right thing. But I stuck to my decision.


Image Image Image


The night began with almost 3,000 people taking their seats. Seconds before my performance, I knew my big gamble could go either way. I set foot on stage  and the doubts evaporated. I sang SAYONEE by JUNOON as if I had been rehearsing it with the band for months! The guitarist, the dholak player and even the keyboardist backed me brilliantly! I used the stage like I had never done before and walked off after my performance knowing that even if I didn’t win, I would still be proud of what I had pulled off.


It was soon time to learn our fate. Meanwhile many of the singers backstage had found it strange that I had ‘changed’ the song at the last minute. I even heard some theories that I had been tricking the other singers with my strategy!


The runners-up had been announced and I found myself breathing nervously before the final announcement. God had once again smiled upon me that evening as I took my second consecutive trophy home.


But more importantly I was surprised at my own audacity to change a song at the last minute and more than anything thankful for my mother’s sound advice. This was also the first time my parents were able to see their son win a big singing competition.


For me, I recall that night with a lot of fondness, knowing that tough decisions backed with courage and others willing to bet on you, could actually pay off. But such things can only happen if the planets align, which they did that night. I cannot thank the people of New Zealand enough for the love in those early years of my career.


 


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Published on June 05, 2014 18:56