At the very beginning, I remember Shafkat, Rushlan and I fooling around with the guitar and impromptu lyrics among our photography club members in university. We were childish, and very bad at what we did, but we managed to make people laugh, and on some days our friends would gather just to see us perform. This led to the idea that we could actually be a comedy band, and with a lack of equipment or experience from our end, we decided that maybe this was the way to go. We'd play our acoustics and sing to students in the university, and confirmed that the band's philosophy would be bigger than the band itself. That, maybe, this use-what-you-have approach to music could be passed down to other students as we grow older. Eventually, we made our first song, Picture Perfect, which made us realize that Orfred could actually be taken seriously. The response we got from that song is still apparent. Every once in a while someone will knock me and tell me that Picture Perfect made their day.
However, I think the problem with our use-what-you-have approach was that the approach is more welcomed than the music itself, and that's when complacency kicks in. Things started falling apart after about 3 years, and all three of the members were going through a transformation in our lives. Rushlan left the band, and let us know that he wanted to be more serious about his own music, and Shafkat was barely able to give time to the band, due to restrictions from home. We all had financial problems - none of us had money to book a practice pad most of the time, which is hard to believe when you consider the sort of people we were surrounded by. Most importantly, we were never ready to commit to the time that needs to be given for music to flourish.
By 2013, my life was in a clusterfuck of my own making. I had moved to Bashundhara, away from family. Since Shafkat lived there I would see him often. I borrowed his guitar, and when I found the time, I would work on songs for Orfred, and I somehow never gave up hope on us, but Rushlan's departure was very frustrating. During that period I wrote the song Revel On, and not being able to do much with the song, I recorded a demo at home and put it on the back-burner.
If there's one thing that makes Orfred who they are, it's the hangouts we have at tea stalls. And Shafkat and I would regularly meet up to have smokes and tea. I met up with Shafkat one evening and we really got to talking about a lot of things. I opened up to him about what was actually bugging me at the time, which was that after 3 years of trying to do music, having done shows, having recorded two singles, what was the point of it all if Orfred wasn't meant to work out? We had all grown, and our ideas had matured, our tastes in music had changed and we knew who we were, but we could never come together to produce anything significant... It all felt like a waste of time, and I was ready to quit.
If you have met Shafkat, you would know how eloquent he is when it comes to explaining things. And in a moment of magic, he reminded me that this was all we had, and if it wasn't for Orfred, none of us would have ever been the good friends we are now; that more than the music itself, the memories and ideas, and stories that will live on are more important. His words stuck with me, and one night, when I sat down again to write a song, I ended up writing midway, and to this day, I feel that it's the best song I've ever written. I recorded a demo, sent it to a few people, and that, too, I kept for later.
That was 2013.
Orfred has always had problems with line-up, and doing music was never as smooth as it is now. The original line-up is no more, and I have a great bunch of brothers who make up the band. You might end up running into us at a tea-stall somewhere with cigarettes and teacups in hands, talking about life and music. Yesterday, we finally recorded Midway. I had tears in my eyes when I sang it, and many of those memories we made came back to me. I am very much in touch with Rushlan and Shafkat, still. I believe they are still routing for Orfred.