About Ravana Music · Drum N Bass · Music

Contest – Free Ravana Album


This Contest is open to Anybody and Anyone who can see this.

Ravana is giving away FREE DOWNLOADS (100 Copies) for their latest album
“The Curse Of Maya”

Album Link Here

All you need to do, to get a FREE DOWNLOAD for this album is to answer 2 Questions and send them to ravanaorama@gmail.com (Plz dont write the answers in the comment section)

1) Identify The Name Of The Film (See Pic)
2) Identify The Director Of The Film (See Pic)

If your answers are right, then you will get a download code for the album. It is compulsory to answer both the questions correctly. Offer lasts till 100 copies only.

All the best



Inside Out

Khalil Gibran

And When My Joy Was Born


And when my joy was born I held it in my arms and stood on the house-top shouting, “Come ye, my neighbours, come and see, for Joy this day is born unto me. Come and behold this gladsome thing that laugheth in the sun.”

But none of my neighbours came to look upon my Joy, and great was my astonishment.

And every day for seven moons I proclaimed my Joy from the house-top — and yet no one heeded me. And my Joy and I were alone, unsought and unvisited.

Then my Joy grew pale and weary because no other heart but mine held its loveliness and no other lips kissed its lips.

Then my Joy died of isolation.

And now I only remember my dead Joy in remembering my dead Sorrow. But memory is an autumn leaf that murmurs in the wind and then is heard no more.


The Fox


A fox looked at his shadow at sunrise and said, “I will have a camel for lunch today.”

And all morning he went about looking for camels. But at noon he saw his shadow again—and he said, “A mouse will do.”




Three men met at a tavern table. One was a weaver, another a carpenter and the third a ploughman. Said the weaver, “I sold a fine linen shroud today for two pieces of gold. Let us have all the wine we want.”

“And I,” said the carpenter, “I sold my best coffin. We will have a great roast with the wine.”

“I only dug a grave,” said the ploughman, “but my patron paid me double. Let us have honey cakes too.”

And all that evening the tavern was busy, for they called often for wine and meat and cakes. And they were merry. And the host rubbed his hands and smiled at his wife; for his guests were spending freely.

When they left the moon was high, and they walked along the road singing and shouting together. The host and his wife stood in the tavern door and looked after them.

“Ah!” said the wife, “these gentlemen! So freehanded and so gay! If only they could bring us such luck every day! Then our son need not be a tavern-keeper and work so hard. We could educate him, and he could become a priest.”


Peace & War


Three dogs were basking in the sun and conversing. The first dog said dreamily, “It is indeed wondrous to be living in this day of dogdom. Consider the ease with which we travel under the sea, upon the earth and even in the sky. And meditate for a moment upon the inventions brought forth for the comfort of dogs, even for our eyes and ears and noses.”

And the second dog spoke and he said, “We are more heedful of the arts. We bark at the moon more rhythmically than did our forefathers. And when we gaze at ourselves in the water we see that our features are clearer than the features of yesterday.”

Then the third dog spoke and said, “But what interests me most and beguiles my mind is the tranquil understanding existing between dogdoms.”

At that very moment they looked, and lo, the dog-catcher was approaching.

The three dogs sprang up and scampered down the street; and as they ran the third dog said, “For God’s sake, run for your lives. Civilization is after us.”


The Wanderer


I met him at the crossroads, a man with but a cloak and a staff, and a veil of pain upon his face. And we greeted one another, and I said to him, “Come to my house and be my guest.”

And he came.

My wife and my children met us at the threshold, and he smiled at them, and they loved his coming.

Then we all sat together at the board and we were happy with the man for there was a silence and a mystery in him.

And after supper we gathered to the fire and I asked him about his wanderings.

He told us many a tale that night and also the next day, but what I now record was born out of the bitterness of his days though he himself was kindly, and these tales are of the dust and patience of his road.

And when he left us after three days we did not feel that a guest had departed but rather that one of us was still out in the garden and had not yet come in.




Many centuries ago, on a road to Athens, two poets met, and they were glad to see one another.

And one poet asked the other saying, “What have you composed of late, and how goes it with your lyre?”

And the other poet answered and said with pride, “I have but now finished the greatest of my poems, perchance the greatest poem yet written in Greek. It is an invocation to Zeus the Supreme.”

Then he took from beneath his cloak a parchment, saying, “Here, behold, I have it with me, and I would fain read it to you. Come, let us sit in the shade of that white cypress.”

And the poet read his poem. And it was a long poem.

And the other poet said in kindliness, “This is a great poem. It will live through the ages, and in it you shall be glorified.”

And the first poet said calmly, “And what have you been writing these late days?”

And the other another, “I have written but little. Only eight lines in remembrance of a child playing in a garden.” And he recited the lines.

The first poet said, “Not so bad; not so bad.”

And they parted.

And now after two thousand years the eight lines of the one poet are read in every tongue, and are loved and cherished.

And though the other poem has indeed come down through the ages in libraries and in the cells of scholars, and though it is remembered, it is neither loved nor read.




Said a tree to a man, “My roots are in the deep red earth, and I shall give you of my fruit.”

And the man said to the tree, “How alike we are. My roots are also deep in the red earth. And the red earth gives you power to bestow upon me of your fruit, and the red earth teaches me to receive from you with thanksgiving.”

Inside Out


Peaceful and troubled derive from thinking;
Enlightenment has no likes or dislikes.
All dualities come from
ignorant inference inside-out


A person of great virtue is like the flowing water. Water benefits all things and contends not with them. It puts itself in a place that no one wishes to be and thus is closest to Tao.

A virtuous person is like water which adapts itself to the perfect place. His mind is like the deep water that is calm and peaceful. His heart is kind like water that benefits all.

His words are sincere like the constant flow of water. His governing is natural without desire which is like the softness of water that penetrates through hard rocks.

His work is of talent like the free flow of water. His movement is of right timing like water that flows smoothly. A virtuous person never forces his way and hence will not make faults inside-out


Thirty spokes unite around one hub to make a wheel. It is the presence of the empty space that gives the function of a vehicle. Clay is molded into a vessel. It is the empty space that gives the function of a vessel. Doors and windows are chisel out to make a room. It is the empty space in the room that gives its function. Therefore, something substantial can be beneficial. While the emptiness of void is what can be utilized




Stop Thinking And End Your Problems
What Difference Between Yes And No ?
What Difference Between Success And Failure ?
Must You Value What Others Value,
Avoid What Others Avoid ?
How Ridiculous !

Other People Are Excited
As Though They Were At A Parade
I Alone Don’t Care
I Alone Am Expressionless,
Like An Infant Before It Can Smile

Other People Have What They Need
I Alone Possess Nothing
I Alone Drift About,
Like Someone Without A Home
I Am Like An Idiot My Mind Is So Empty

Other People Are Bright
I Alone Am Dark
Other People Are Sharp
I Alone Am Dull
Other People Have Purpose
I Alone Don’t Know
I Drift Like A Wave On The Ocean
I Blow As Aimless As A Wind

I Am Different From Ordinary People
I Drink From The Great Mother’s Breasts





Reality Bites

A new exposé of Mother Teresa shows that she—and the Vatican—were even worse than we thought

Why Evolution Is True

First Christopher Hitchens took her down, then we learned that her faith wasn’t as strong as we thought, and now a new study from the Université de Montréal is poised to completely destroy what shreds are left of Mother Teresa’s reputation. She was the winner of the 1979 Nobel Peace Prize, was beatified and is well on her way to becoming a saint, and she’s universally admired. As Wikipedia notes:

[She was] named 18 times in the yearly Gallup’s most admired man and woman poll as one of the ten women around the world that Americans admired most. In 1999, a poll of Americans ranked her first in Gallup’s List of Most Widely Admired People of the 20th Century. In that survey, she out-polled all other volunteered answers by a wide margin, and was in first place in all major demographic categories except the very young.

The criticisms of…

View original post 1,628 more words

About Ravana Music

Anti Nationals (Ravana Album Released On 1st July 2016

About Ravana Music

War For Peace (Ravana Album Released 1st May 2016)

About Ravana Music

Meet Ravana, the Indian musician using electronica as a political weapon


The centrepiece of Delhi-based dub producer Ravana’s latest album War for Peace is its title track. Three-and-a-half minutes of brooding, ominous percussion and jagged, distorted synths evoke all the fear, anger and violence of the Naxalite-Maoist insurgency – the longest running in India. A minute into the song, the music suddenly fades away, replaced by a vocal sample of the late Comrade Azad (Cherukuri Rajkumar) – former spokesman and Central Politburo member of the banned Maoist group Communist Party of India – taken from Sanjay Kak’s documentary Red Ant Dream.

“Violence,” Azad says, “is a structural feature of our society: it is an inbuilt, inherent characteristic of the existing unjust, authoritarian, hierarchical, oppressive and rotten society.” Then the synths and the heavy bass crash back in, now accompanied by the terrifying sounds of doors being broken down, shouting and gunfire. It’s heavy stuff for an electronica album, especially in a country where electronic music is largely the domain of rich globetrotting hedonists and navel-gazing hipsters. But then Ravana – whose real name is Shravan Chellappa – isn’t your regular electronica producer.

Chellappa first came to my attention in 2014, when I stumbled across his brilliant dub/ambient album Ghalib on Bandcamp. Fascinated by this marriage of grimy dub music and vocal samples from an iconic 1988 TV series about the Urdu poet, Mirza Ghalib, I dug further to find that Chellappa had produced an astonishing array of music. Spread across 10 SoundCloud accounts (inspired by the 10-headed antagonist Ravana in the epic poem Ramayana), it ranged from breakbeat, techno and dub music to jungle remixes of Odia (a language spoken in Orissa, aka Odisha, a state in Eastern India) revolutionary songs.

Having quit his corporate job with Indiatimes a few years ago, he spends his time at home making music and occasionally doing data entry jobs. When I first spoke to Chellappa two years ago, he was heavily invested in radical politics, drawing as much influence from India’s long tradition of revolutionary poetry as from Jamaican dub music.

In the intervening time, the coming to power of Narendra Modi’s Hindu government and the rising tide of Islamophobia and nationalist violence accelerated this process of political self-education. The result is War for Peace, eight tracks of dark, politically-tinged dub sounds overlaid with vocal samples from audiobooks and speeches by political heavyweights such as Noam Chomsky, Howard Zinn and Arundhati Roy.

These sparse and judiciously used samples act as a focusing lens for the album’s dark, unforgiving and unequivocally militant sonic palette. Distorted percussion drives the music forward like 21st century war drums, sometimes accompanied by field recordings of Indian folk rhythms. Warped basslines pulse with tension and purpose, an emotional counterpoint to the album’s politically-charged lyrics. This is dub music reimagined as a political weapon, the subaltern rhythm and texture of its bass, percussion and noise elements conveying a distinct political sentiment and metaphor – that of anger, militancy and a grim determination.

“I believe that peace can only come from war,” says Chellappa, explaining the album’s central theme that argues you have to fight for peace and freedom. “Why do we talk about peace if there is no war, no conflict? If you want peace, you have war. And if you want war, then you talk about peace.”

Conflict is a central theme in Chellappa’s recent music. While War for Peace focuses on the erosion of India’s public institutions and civil liberties and the increasing religious and political polarisation – with tracks like Ethnic Cleansing, Role of the Media and Religious Violence – his previous album Old Delhi tackles the battle raging over India’s cultural history and heritage.


old delhi

The Hindutva lobby, which believes that the left and the Indian National Congress have long dominated India’s academic institutions, sees the Bharatiya Janata Party’s (BJP) rise to power as an opportunity to recast India’s complex history in simplistic terms. Their narrative, which has Muslim invaders on one side and peaceful Hindu natives on the other, has little place for a syncretic Indian culture that integrates many ideas and customs from Arabic and Persian traditions.

Urdu – the language of poets such as Mirza Ghalib and Allama Iqbal – is now being denounced as a foreign imposition. The Ministry of Human Resources Development is making a nationwide push for the adoption of Sanskrit across the academic spectrum, a move resented by India’s many other linguistic and cultural communities. Last week, BJP legislator Shaina NC compared the Mughal emperor Akbar to Adolf Hitler, and many state governments are changing history textbooks to portray the Mughals, other Muslim leaders and even the secular leaders of post-independence India in a negative light. In such an atmosphere, Old Delhi – a musical love letter to the history-filled alleys and bylanes of the Mughals’ walled capital – is a quiet and effective act of cultural resistance.

“These are the sounds of Old Delhi,” explains Chellappa. “I tried to reimagine the serenity and sounds of the city 300 to 400 years ago in the times of the Mughals and juxtapose that with where Old Delhi is now.”

The eight tracks on the February release trace a route through Old Delhi, as Chellappa starts from the Red Fort and pays homage to some of its historic landmarks.

For this record Chellappa took heavy inspiration from the late Bryn Jones, a British producer who released dozens of Middle East-influenced electronica albums as Muslimgauze. Much like Jones, Chellappa mixes traditional Indian percussion, drones and raw jagged synths to create a soundscape that occupies the liminal space between two worlds – the majestic Shahjahanabad of the Mughals and its noisy, overcrowded modern day iteration.

Most producers would be more than content to release two albums in a year, let alone four months. But Chellappa is already putting the finishing touches on his next release, Anti-Nationals. Inspired by the police crackdown on students at New Delhi’s Jawaharlal Nehru University on February 11, and the ensuing public debate on freedom of speech, sedition and nationalism, the record will come out on July 1.

“As an artist, you have a responsibility to speak up for what is right, for the truth,” he says about the album’s inspiration.

“Without being afraid of the consequences. If you know what’s going on … and you still keep quiet – and say that I’m only interested in making music and playing gigs and I have nothing to do with the things going around me – then I think that’s a problem.”

Chellappa is already thinking about the album he will make after Anti-Nationals, and he has continued to release regular non-album cuts on his plethora of SoundCloud pages. What drives him to be so prolific? It can’t be the money – there isn’t any. Indian independent musicians are lucky to even recover costs through album sales and his heavy political messages mean that opportunities to play his music live are rare and irregular.

“If I start thinking about whether I have money or not, I’ll get nothing done,” he explains. “If I’m good enough, I’ll eventually make money. If I’m not good enough I’ll still die peacefully because I did what I wanted to do with my life. If I didn’t make music, I’ll probably end up in an asylum. I’d go mental.”

Bhanuj Kappal is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai who writes about music, protest culture and politics.







Original Link