I have been listening to Sirf Paudhon Se Pyaar for a minute – I will be honest, it was the name that drew me in. The music kept me, of course, in strong contestation of the Shakespearean aphorism. SPSP [hence abbreviated as such for convenience]’s new EP– paraspar, sounds like the hologram of a forest disappearing. It spans across stretches of wind-chime electronica and juxtaposed keys and birdsong, and 7 songs – rounding up to around a rough 24 minutes. The kind of music, perhaps, one would associate with an artist who is only but the lover of plants.
A press release from Rish, the creative behind the moniker, states, “Meaning “mutual” or “in relation to,” paraspar is a non-linear meditation on deep time. Through asymmetrical phrasing, textured ambient compositions and earth-shattering drones, Rish invites listeners into a suspended space where memory, and time fold into each other. Recorded and produced entirely in their home studio, the EP captures a wide sonic palette—stitching together fragmented moments into a cohesive whole that resists traditional structure, in favor of the artist’s sonic journal (of sorts).” The mutuality analogy works, because a lot of the record sounds like the music is sprouting, sound upon sound building up in tandem – in complete symmetry and asymmetry – together and awry all at once. It almost feels like there is a narrative arc for this EP– like a move from the forest of twinkly mist to one of disembodied numbness.
One of my favorites on this project is dheeme dheeme, which samples Mohammed Rafi’s Yeh Haanste Huye Phool from Pyaasa. Half of it is sheer surprise, at finding Sahir Ludhianvi penmanship on a project so new and so rooted in electronica, on the other hand – it perhaps makes a lot of sense. However, you can really feel the shift from ambient to drone utilization from mesh – where the song drenched in birdsong, gentle in fervor, transitions to roee, which sounds like a noir-mystery-borderline-indie-rock mash of sorts, the buildup is interesting and very mechanical – and you can hear drums in here, which only adds up, because Rish also is the drummer of the band Green Park. The trilogy mid-EP is followed by bui, which feels like the synthesis of the two preceding numbers, looping soundbytes and bird-song unidirectionally, to create that air of fear – almost like a mysterious static everywhere, consuming you.
The EP closes with a poignant final track—a reassembled score for Collective Dreams Stitched Into December, Bappadittya Sarkar’s 2025 documentary peeling back the layers of Jaipur’s everyday life. “The idea for this track was to sound like listening to the earth breathe—patient, fractured, and quietly radical”, the artist shared. The arrangement on this song almost reminds me of a piece of composition made by Satyajit Ray in one of his films – where he was scoring mass-hypnotism. This one too, is hypnotic, and the track almost sweeps over you like a train – with the last few minutes having the sonic profile of a steam engine. This 8 minute number is a good choice for a closing one, as the track almost feels like it’s dismembering itself, and once you are done listening, you are intended to feel The Unsettling wash over you.
Paraspar is a wonderful project – and perhaps it shall be right to wish that the artist keep loving their plants and all the surrounding disjointed, derailing pondering, and our love stretch a little further: to the music born out of it.
