This comes courtesy my friend Tanmay and some other office mates. Creativity, as they say, cannot be limited by anything whatsoever.
The world famous Barbie, from the “Best from Waste” 8th runner up entry Snowfall n Barbie, is being put on sale. The doll, considered by some as the most beautiful ever made, has been entirely made by hand with painstaking detail. Designer attire made from custom ordered fabric, expensive diamond jewelry and the latest “in-fashion” hairdo make the Barbie all the more exclusive. This one of a kind prized possession will go under the hammer on New Years eve. Bids start from a Trillion Trillion dollars. Entry for bidding by Invitation only.
Well, no post for a long time. A lot of time for introspection, vocal chord relaxation, adrenaline preservation and lunatic fits. Rather lets have an ordered list.
1. All scratches and bruises have healed already.
2. The wound on my left leg has healed well. Hope that the stitches come off in the New Year.
3. For whatever reasons i thought that my bike was totaled. well those reasons can rest at the bottom of the deepest snake pit in arabia. the gear lever (which penetrated my leg) and the indicators have been set right. The headlight stock and the fairing will have to be replaced.
4. Have started walking around a bit more without any agony and even played couple of games of table tennis..;)
Waiting for the day when the status goes from walking fit to drumming fit!
P.S. : A huge \m/ to my family and friends for obvious reasons. You are the best!
Met with an accident day before yesterday! same old stereotype script.
1. I was doing 60kph on a bad road and down hill. 2. Three dudes, from the other end on one bike with no head light. Wrong fucking side! 3. To avoid them, i dodged them at close range and hit the deck hard. 4. My gear lever tore through my shoe and took a chunk of muscle out of the sole of my left leg. 5. Scratches and bruises all over the body. 6. Myles (thats my Pulsar) was totaled. 7. Dudes on the other bike apologized and took me to the hospital and got me bandaged. 8. Band mates and friends are taking care of me and helping me get back on my feet. \m__m/ to Chirayu, Vinay and Akshay. 9. Special thanks to Dr. Karan of Bharati Hospital for stitching me back without getting guttural screams out of my belly . 10. Told not to move for 3 days. My idea of mother fucking hell! 11. Last word, my head and my specs were intact and unscathed even after going through 4 somersaults over bare rocks. I love my helmet!!!!
What this has done is, put a full stop to all my plans to play with my band on the huge Mantra stage at IIT Powai........bollocks!!!!..............while i am stuck at my flat here in Pune, MotherJane, Ensiferum and Indian Ocean will rock the Mood Indigo crowd, not knowing that Pune's biggest head banger (literally and figuratively) is compelled to stay docked at home!
Still, lets say "Best of Luck, Skepsis! Tear the stage apart!".............We will Rise........
Of late, metal lyrics that i listen to have become a bit monotonous. I was losing faith in the song writing abilities of bands , when this little known band from Sweden (ahem!) Opeth splattered all over my hard drive and monitor, and tore my illusion to pieces.
The following song, from their Damnation record from 2003, is as beautiful a piece of poetry as a song. enjoy!....\m__m/
Out on the road there are fireflies circling Deep in the woods, where the lost souls hide Over the hill there are men returning Trying to find some peace of mind Sleep my child
Under the fog there are shadows moving Don't be afraid, hold my hand Into the dark there are eyelids closing Buried alive in the shifting sands Sleep my child
Speak to me now and the world will crumble Open a door and the moon will fall All of your life all your memories Go to your dreams, forget it all Sleep my child
Another one of my favourites, is "Benighted" from their 1999 record "Still Life".
Benighted......... Come into this night Here we'll be gone So far away From our weak and crumbling lives Come into this night When days are done Lost and astray In what's vanished from your eyes
What came and distorted your sight Saw you benighted by your fright
Come into this night Your plight alone Carry your weight You are flawed as all of us Come into this night Your only home It's never too late To repent, suffer the loss
What came and distorted your sight Saw you benighted by your fright
What came and distorted your sight Saw you benighted by your fright
Come into this night When you're able To undo your deeds And atone with your lonely soul Once you're into this night All minds are stable Forget all your needs Lose the grip of all control
I could only wish, that in all of my remaining life, i could write a lyric, which would be as simple and touching, at the same time being as dark and reaching as this one. For now, i am working on it.
sunday is the day to crank it all up, right to 11. Thats what the three of us did. Ameya, Chirayu and me were down to our stupidest and came up with this. dedicated to our own Mithun-da and his offspring , Mimoh "Jimmy" Chakraborty. Enjoy!
Our Jimmy rocks...............:D
he is got the moves hes got the talks oh my, here he comes Our Jimmy rocks
[chorus] so tell me Jimmy why not jimmy why jimmy why not jimmy
his hair's a mess voice gives you shocks oh my dear, here he comes (and) our jimmy rocks
[chorus] so tell me Jimmy why not jimmy why jimmy why not jimmy
(silence with no instruments, just chords on the acoustic guitar.)
just like his dad he'll make it to the top mithun's faded out but our jimmy rocks
(garba rhythm) Jimmy, ekla chalo re Mithun bole, Jimmy ko bole, Ekla chalo re!
he's dashin he's fast he fights to the end he stand to the last
[chorus] so tell me Jimmy why not jimmy why jimmy why not jimmy
(preferably in a south Indian accent)
ladies are made for him jeans,skirts,bikinis frocks he's done them all oh yeah he rocks
yenna rasacala mind it!
[chorus] so tell me Jimmy why not jimmy why jimmy why not jimmy
P.S.: This is a real tribute from long standing members of The Chakraborty Clan Fan Club!!!
Without you inspired someone from G 'n' R to write November rain. The story is a classic, but little read. The song is legendary and never ignored. Beauty, they say, is in the eye of the beholder. Well, after listening to this song, i beg to differ. At least, i have an exception.
When I look into your eyes I can see a love restrained But darlin' when I hold you Don't you know I feel the same
Nothin' lasts forever And we both know hearts can change And it's hard to hold a candle In the cold November rain
We've been through this such a long long time Just tryin' to kill the pain
But lovers always come and lovers always go An no one's really sure who's lettin' go today Walking away
If we could take the time to lay it on the line I could rest my head Just knowin' that you were mine All mine So if you want to love me then darlin' don't refrain Or I'll just end up walkin' In the cold November rain
Do you need some time...on your own Do you need some time...all alone Everybody needs some time... on their own Don't you know you need some time...all alone
I know it's hard to keep an open heart When even friends seem out to harm you But if you could heal a broken heart Wouldn't time be out to charm you
Sometimes I need some time...on my own Sometimes I need some time...all alone Everybody needs some time... on their own Don't you know you need some time...all alone
And when your fears subside And shadows still remain I know that you can love me When there's no one left to blame So never mind the darkness We still can find a way Nothin' lasts forever Even cold November rain
Don't ya think that you need somebody Don't ya think that you need someone Everybody needs somebody You're not the only one You're not the only one
Alright, lets get things straight first! I am not here to write a "review" of the album "Systematic Chaos", but merely to present the humble opinion i have about this latest musical precipitate from the solution called Dream Theater. A dumb ass like me could never write a review for the band of that talent and intensity in this life time at least. So, lets get started.
There are 8 tracks on this album 3 are over 15 minutes long. Yeah, that should not come as a surprise to any DT fan, why do i remember some song raging on for about 24 minutes...........:D. Point to be made is that DT's ways are intact. they have not changed one bit which is a very good sign.
What has changed, is the influences or rather the weight of influences their music shows. This record is more metal than progressive. The album openers, "In the presence of my Enemy" parts 1&2 are typical DT songs, very long and featuring lotsa virtuoso soloing. They are a pleasure to listen to, is what i can say at the least.
But the major change, or the weight of influence , which i was talking about earlier, is seen in the 3rd track "Forsken". The opening riff is very catchy, the music is more metal and straight forward. Of course solos are not missed here too, courtesy the genius known to us mortals as Jordan Rudess.
Which brings me to a very important point here. That being Jordan's musical influence over DT's music and his command of his instrument. The magic created by the keyboards is just inescapable, and rather than overpowering the song (which John Petrucci's guitar is sometimes known to do), it just intertwines beautifully with the track, providing a shade or texture to the track. Its more like Hans Zimmer dishing out the soundtrack of "Pearl Harbour". Amazing. Dare i say, that Jordan Rudess is the best keyboard player alive in our time??? Won't be too far fetched i think.
Next up, the track "Constant Motion". Here the thrash metal touches are even more evident. straightup riffs, and even growling, courtesy my favourite drummer , Mike Portnoy. Throughout the entire albums, Mike has ably backed up James La brie in the vocal section. James, a genius vocalist himself, more than justifies his place in DT. After taking a lot of potshots, i think he has done much more than enough to shut peoples mouth up. Sheer magic!
The next 2 songs, "The dark Eternal Night" and "Prophets of war" too have visible metal influences. But here the band is back in its own groove, progging what they prog the best!
But the absolute favourite, the piece-de-resistance, the coup-de-grace of this album, according to me is the last track "The Ministry of Lost souls". This is DT at its best. On top of its game. Justifying their place as one of the best bands around. The melody, vocals, keyboards all just come together real good. This song is to be heard to be believed!
So all in all i think, a very very good album from DT. Its my favourite this winter, thats what i can surely say.Enjoy!!!
This is one of those moments i cannot stop from putting my heart down. I just finished watching "Global Metal", the much awaited sequel to the critically acclaimed "Metal : A headbangers journey". Sam Dunn, in the curtain raiser has certainly put in the effort to show the world what metal is and getting the respect that the metal community deserves. Proud, mighty, young and true are words i most relate with metal. And Global Metal just showed the multiple faces that metal carries around the world. Most of the documentary carries one through third world countries like Brazil, Indonesia, China (??) , prosperous lands like Japan, war afflicted soils of Israel and the middle east. To the Americans and the Brits, this music maybe pure entertainment. But watch this piece of film, you come to realise what it means to metal heads like me who live in vastly different societies where freedom is like a daily allowance. Some countries more than the others.
Religious conflicts, death, brutality, injustice all being the topics-of-choice for metal are what these countries are going through. And metal heads here know what it is and have found an outlet for the hidden angst and rage in metal. I........I can't seem to find words to tell you what effect it had on me. Beg of you to go and watch that documentary. i was moved to tears, when an Indonesian fan echoed what i felt all the time, "metal is for life. Religion is my relation particularly with my god. it is for no one else to judge or decide." or when an Israeli musician from the band "Orphaned Land" (which is a band i have come to like. they are awesome!) said "There is plenty of darkness around us. So its important to sing about the light that we need. Create that light inside us." You will probably realize what i am talking about when you watch these humans rend their heart out on stage knowing that their music is going to be instrumental in bringing about massive changes. Their attitude just shouts, "yeah you have your guns and missiles and tanks. well we have guitars and drums and mikes and a legion of metal heads. we will earn back out rightful freedom." Fucking yeah!
There is a very good overview of the metal scene in India with some of the leading acts like "Demonic Resurrection" and "Bhayanak Maut " being featured prominently. What metal means to Indian kids and what they want to convey through it. My absolute favourite was a sentence, a bloody fact from the mouth of Anant Dwivedi, from the band Prakalp "In the band we follow one religion, and that is music. Its just like the sky above is. Its one for everyone." If Mr motherfuckin Raj Thackeray and his ilk can take some of this spirit with them, India would be much better off. And i mean it. None of my over-the-top cracks.
The heart of an Indian metal head inside me swelled with pride, at the tad end of the movie, when Iron Maidens appearance at Bangalore, the first gig by a major metal band in India has been showcased. The 25,000 strong crowd chanted to legendary tunes like "Fear Of the dark" and "Hallowed be thy name". Who can stop tears from streaking down, feet from jumping and heads from banging? We have arrived!
So please please please watch this film. download it , rip it off you tube, do whatever the fuck you have to. If neither works, contact me, i will burn it on a CD for you. But please do see this.
I was a troubled kid. Troubled, by asthma that is. So, approach Diwali time and mom would announce, “Son, no crackers. Doctor’s orders.” Now, kids are not kids unless they are spanked. In this case I did not need one. Disobedience of the above mentioned “farmaan” brought with it a lot of dust on my clothes, an ambulance and a panic stricken look to my parents face. Writhing, coughing, almost choking on the smoke.
So that called for forced austerity. NO boom-boom-bang-bang when all the kids in the locality would be at it with all the enthusiasm they could manufacture. It would be eleven years before I would touch another (kids approved) explosive. I had to paint up all the reasons I could to explain my lack of participation in the celebrations, but today I think I am better off doing that. Realizing what that austerity helped me understand and really sink in this thick head, it just could not have come in any other way.
No, I do not want to be another Mr. Al Bore. No offense meant. He is doing his part for the environment and has been amply rewarded with a lot of money and the Nobel. No, I do not want to stand on that podium. I do not have any presentation, laser pointer and anything as such. Might sound hilarious, maybe is, but just me existing here as of now is something I would like to be grateful about. I could have died on that day, had it not been for someone’s timely phone call and a helping hand. Not just me, no. Hundreds of kids have the indignity of dying due the (frankly) unnecessary smoke. Some face familiar?
If light and prosperity is what this festival is supposed to mean, then a simple “diya” would suffice. It does, in the vast majority of India where people cannot afford the products of child labour from Sivakasi and other places. But why should we? We are not stricken for money? Yes we are not. Just remember that when you curse the loud speakers blaring during Ganesh Utsav. They are not the only sources of “noise pollution that harms the environment and troubles sane and sentient human beings.”
Couple of thousand more on the clothes and food won’t be as bad I think. I mean, in my puny brain I just displaced the allocated cracker budget to some other items on the list. Old clothes can be given away. Leftover food too. Will that not bring a million buck smile to some face? It adds up to the festival, I think. Makes it brighter. Or if you are so stuffed up on the top floor, just put that money in the bank and use it for your kids future. Two blessing in one, bank (recession, you see) and child.
Diwali for me, is a time to re-unite my family and the values it lives. The physical distance between you and them just makes it sweeter. Not for fire gutted huts, ambulance sirens blaring and people trying to cope with their tears. That is the main course for the lunch we live everyday.
Well, personal opinions anyway (I heard someone saying bullshit? That’s ok. Happens.) Sanity hath its downfall and hospital ride. While that is being bandaged and taken care of, madness can run amok. But I know for sure that the run will be quite short. Happy Diwali.
This below is the foreword for the the Blender magazine by their editor , Sam Lal. Needless to say, rock fans will agree with this.
"Its the easiest thing in the world to misunderstand rock music. There is something about the intensity, the passion , the volume and the attitude , which makes it almost comparable to an ancient ritual and there are quite a few souls out there who are not too keen on pagan rites. Rock music , therefore, becomes an easy prey for rumours about devil worship , bestiality and generally everything that is wrong with the moral fibre of the modern society.
Of course this is all hogwash! If there is one style of music that comes absolutely stuffed with positive messages, it is rock. Even if the genre' s brand ambassador happens to be the bat munching Ozzy Osbourne. "Rock and Roll - the music of freedom" is how one Salman Rushdie looks at it and as a Booker prize winning author, he should know.
Rock music and all its sub genre's are about talent, honesty of expression and celebration of life. It may inspire some people, it may scare others, but it is always true to itself and the vision of the people creating it! "
no, i haven't become a believer or become "enlightened" or anything like that. Just that music has some other worldly touch to it, it often moves you to tears. This track from the movie Chak De!, manages to do the same. Soulful. Especially when you watch the movie. If you are not moved when u listen to this, you are not human.
teeja tera rang tha main to teeja tera rang tha main to… jiya tere dhang se main to tu hi tha maula tu hi aan Maula mere le le meri jaan Maula mere le le meri jaan…….teeja tera rang tha main to teeja tera rang tha main to…. jiya tere dhang se main to tu hi tha maula tu hi aan maula mere le le meri jaan maula mere le le meri jaan…..
tere sang kheli holi tere sang ki diwali tere angano ki chaya tere sang saawan aaya pher le chahe tu nazrein chahe chura le laut ke tu aayega re shart laga le teeja tera rang tha main to teeja tera rang tha main to….. jiya tere dhang se main to tu hi tha maula tu hi aan Maula mere le le meri jaan Maula mere le le meri jaan…….
mitti meri thi tu hi wahin mere ghee aur churee wahin raanzhen mere wahin heer wahi savaiyaan wahin kheer tujhse hi rooth na re tuzhe hi manana tera mera naata koi dooja na jaana teeja tera rang tha main to jiya tere dhang se main to tu hi tha maula tu hi aan Maula mere le le meri jaan……. Maula mere le le meri jaan……. Maula mere le le meri jaan…….
Came across this poem, penned by none other than Adolf Hitler himself! Read to your own chagrin!
Be Reminded...................
When your mother has grown older, When her dear, faithful eyes No longer see life as they once did, When her feet, grown tired, No longer want to carry her as she walks, Then lend her your arm in support, escort her with happy pleasure— the hour will come when, weeping, you must accompany her on her final walk.
And if she asks you something, then give her an answer. And if she asks again, then speak! And if she asks yet again, respond to her, not impatiently, but with gentle calm.
And if she cannot understand you properly, explain all to her happily. The hour will come, the bitter hour, when her mouth asks for nothing more.
An incident from the not so distant past. Makes me laugh every time I remember it. Without fail.
It had just been a month or so after I was safely employed. Nothing to do with my job though. But with something called heavy metal music. Especially in Pune. Got to know about a gig through a friend. I had to go . How can I not. Especially when Brute Force were performing? So that hammers out any creases on the surface. Just the timing of the gig might present a bit of a problem. But determination hath its say. Nothing doing. Rocking means rocking. Lolz.
Actually my office bus reaches back at 5:45. the gig was scheduled at 6:30. so I would not have the time to dress up (!!) for the gig. Yeah yeah. Those were the days when I still had something in my wardrobe that wasn’t black in colour. Now it’s a different story. Or the same colour. Well, so I had to change (!!!) and then catch a ride to the venue. But if punctuality was to be observed (eggheads, that is very important to me, even if it doesn’t even feature in the top ten list for the organizers) then there would be no chance of me changing my attire.
You know, at times I wish I had never known of something called Murphy’s Law. That way I could have cursed luck or fate or something else. But things not changing things started going wrong on gig day. We had an audit , and so, I had to wear formals (holy sacrilege……….i know). Now not only am I completely uncomfortable in formals but also look like a complete dork. But then Mr. Murphy makes sure that you commit suicide once in a while. Without shedding a drop of blood. Painful.
So there was the dork. Spent a normal day in office. The audit came and went by. I wasn’t close to it by miles. Yeah. Stop chuckling to yourself. I WENT TO THE GIG IN FORMALS!!!!!! A HEAVY METAL GIG!!!!
Let me tell you how embarrassing it can be. Have you ever been through that experience where you try a karate kick on your mate and your trousers rip open to reveal the not so pleasant parts of your body. Take that feeling, multiply it by 100 and then square it. You are getting close. There wasn’t a single eye which went by without staring at me. Not a single lady who did not snigger at me. Not a single dude who did not call me names, albeit silently. Cause whatever might be the case, I still weight quite a few pounds and that does matter. Even mates who got passes for me, kept a safe distance. “we are not with him.” Yeah . Right.
Well, nevertheless, after making a joke of my appearance and my punctuality, the gig did start. Bands playing their hearts out. This one particular band had a female lead vocalist. And she was damn good , looking and sounding. But she did not find any fans. Any except one. Me. Imagine screaming for someone in support and in return have the whole place stare at you. Even the technicians and the judges. But she was good. And I did not stop screaming. Do what you feel is right. Yeah. Right.
More salt to the wound, everyone had drinks in their hand and smokes up their asses. Cause one of the organizers was a brewery and was giving a couple of drinks free with every entry pass. And yeah. As you probably guessed. I did not have a glass in my hand. I do not like whiskey. Better keep that reason to myself I thought. Or get thrown out.
Last of all bands, and my favourite, was Brute Force. This is one band I have enormous respect for and I love to mosh and head band when they tear the place apart. So when they came on, I knew the evening would be worth it. Cause all this time I was just standing there, alone in the crowd , not making any movements. Alienating myself from everyone else. Sober against drunk. Neatly parted hair against head banging induced dishevel ness.
And did BF have something up their sleeves. First track, Brute Force. From the moment the first riff hit the amps, The gears which link my neck to the rest of the body, went into over drive. I was amidst a head banging high. “……..brute Force……..yeahhhhhhhh”. for a better part of half an hour, my posture could be roughly described as “everything shaking and moving except for the mano cornutas raised above my head.” I was loving it.
The real surprise came when the band was about to hit the last song “”Opportunity denied.” A guitar string broke and there was a brief silence. And I just happened to open my eyes and put on my specs (pocketed them while head banging). People around me……..their jaws were about to drop and their eyes were about to come out of their sockets and dance on the floor. To them I was a man who was never capable of anything else other than shouting and the occasional devil horns. How did he get into the head banging frenzy? How did he jump into the mosh pit? All I could do was smile. And wink at the girls who had sniggered at me earlier. I could see them returning the favour. Boy, do I love shocking people!
Completely drenched in sweat and smoke after the gig, I was spent. Couldn’t even stand straight. But I was happy. Brute Force won. and I had people coming upto me and apologizing, offering me rides back home and have a drink with them. They had mistaken me for someone who would not be metal, just because I was wearing formals. Appearances can be deceiving. \m__m/
Even today, when I meet dudes from that gig (of course I made a lot of friends in this process) , we have a good laugh about it. They did learn something from me. But since then, I have never been to office in formals.:D.
Nobody saw it coming. That one last hope. That too is gone now.
A black day in the history of world cuisine.
Was back home for festivities. And I do not have to say that I am a foodie. If you are not blind enough to see that. Two reasons why I am: Kolhapuri food and my mom’s penchant for making even ordinary dishes taste exotic. My weight is a living (rather ever so slightly dying …….:P…….) testimony to this fact.
And then Pune. This place has all types of cuisines this world has to offer. Chinese, Mongolian, Italian, and whatever other –ians you can think of. You name them and you will find them. But none of them and let me be very clear about the NONE,……. none of them are very good at what they make. Go to any restaurant, the most you will hear as praise is “Man, it was worth the money!!!”. And that too is a bit too optimistic cause you do not want to make a complete fool of yourself in a seemingly elite company. Blithering sods! Even the local food is good, for diabetics that is. Haven’t these people heard of spices? Even the Egyptian pharaohs ate Indian spices! Probably the only reason that they did not have that bandage tied to their mouth. To devour more food. With that exotic Indian touch. Even after death.
But let’s not climb on ancient geeks and ghosts. What I meant to point out was that the sense of taste in Pune’s dishes harks back to the Jurassic ages. Cause it just identifies the basic ingredients. Looks like this place is not turning out to be so good for a gobbler (a quality one at that) like me. And trust me it isn’t. Even though I am trying to lose weight, I will not change my opinion.
The disaster then. You know, it’s a sin (at least for me) to order something like veg. Kolhapuri in Pune. Cause its utter horse-shit. Horrendous. Committed this sin once at a hotel called Nirmal on Satara Road. And the only ingredients I could make out were red chilli powder (truck loads of it………. to make it “tikhat”…….bollocks!) and some cauliflower crumbs. Streams, rivers, tidal currents of curses followed. Last time I checked, the hotel had closed down. So I do have a kaali-jubaan. As far as food matters go.
So I was back home. Having a good time. Relaxed. School chums, 5 of us, decided to meet. For lunch. Lips smacking. Mouth watering. Ummmm………….. reached the hotel right on time. And since we are in Kolhapur , order some…yeah you guessed it……….. veg. kolhapuri. Rest of the dishes are inconsequential.
What that asshole brought in the Holy name of Kolhapuri was…………how do I say it……….shit…………just different from the type you get in Pune. Pig shit maybe. Yeah. Cause if nothing else, the stuff that I ate in Pune, at least was spicy . Very spicy. Thanks to the chilli powder. It had tears streaking down my cheeks and that at least put some smiles on my face. This , the one that I ordered back home was………. sweet!
Yeah! you read that right! SWEET! Mother of fucking God!
I do not want to relate any more of this incidence apart from the fact that we abused the hotel owner so much that his entire family lineage must be having at 1,525 diseases, all raped, tortured and had their limbs mutilated. End of round 1.
Went out for a stroll in the evening. That has to culminate into me having a snack. Has to. There is no other way to end an evening walk. And since I was in Kolhapur (I had to keep reminding myself I was after what had happened in the afternoon) what better than wada pav. Mind you, the wada pav you get in Pune is just some mashed potatoes stuffed inside a shell of besan. That’s not the case back home. All I would have said was “taste it to discover it.” But I will not say that anymore. Can not. How can that wada pav be so horrific? Taste-less! No ginger, no chilli, no coriander………..nothing!!!!! “Tikhat lagla ka?”, the stall owner seemed to ask me cause I was suddenly silent and staring at the stuff he had served. Tikhat?!?!?!?! I was so angry that along with a real serving of Kolhapuri profanities, I felt like stuffing that wada up his nostrils! Aggravations galore! Getting hit in your balls with a demolition crane is less painful I think, than calling that wada pav tikhat. No, I am sure it is.
How ? why? Where did it all go wrong?
I think there should be a Parliamentary committee to investigate this. I think all restaurateurs who commit such crimes must have their balls cut off and then hung and then shot. Heinous is a very small word for such a crime. But it has been done. Real good food is no more. And it will have entire generations weeping, lamenting. What is wrong with this world? Why take everything that’s good about it and throw it down the gutter?
Your guess is as good as mine. For now, 2 minutes of silence. Please.
P.S. : Last piece of news on this i heard is the same is that the great Chorage Misal is no more. Holy Lord of Good food!! What tragedy has befallen us!
What wonders can Wikipedia hold for someone! Threw this search by mistake, but the result is very likable!
Yeah, that true. but what is not likable is that Def Leppard is not coming to India! They were supposed to play the Palace Grounds in Bangalore on the 17th of Oct. and MMRDA grounds in Mumbai on the 19th. And i was supposed to be there! Holy Time, i feel like breaking stuff up.....grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Reasons cited :None. Rumours : Attacks on Christians, bomb blasts in major cities.
Just catch hold of some of those motherfuckers and shoot them! Terrorists, fundamentalists, whoever.
This is the second time they have canceled this tour and i am having apprehensions as to whether these shows will ever happen. The other dates on their tour calendar remain intact. Damn it!
But calming some of these frantic nerves down is this piece of news from the Jethro Tull website. Coming to India and doing 5 dates in Nov/Dec. These chappies have done the India routine quite a few times and are not scared of terrorists and communal violence. Yay!
And what i think is the best news in quite a while is , someone called Bon Jovi is scheduled to perform at the Live Earth 2008 show in Mumbai. Please do not keep any appointments for 7th of December!
A song, by Alter Bridge, that i am hooked on to right now. For a gazillion reasons. Dedicating it to people who want to be at peace, including myself. This is Blackbird.
The willow it weeps today A breeze from a distance Is calling your name Unfurl your black wings and wait Across the horizons coming to sweep you away Its coming to sweep you away
Let the wind carry you home Blackbird fly away May you never be broken again
The fragile can not endure The wrecked and the and jaded a place so impure The static of this cruel world Cause some birds to fly long before they've seen their day long before they've seen their day
Let the wind carry you home Blackbird fly away May you never be broken again Beyond the suffering you’ve known I hope you find your way May you never be broken again
Ascend may you find no resistance Know that you've made such a difference All you leave behind will live to the end The cycle of suffering goes on But the memories of you stay strong Someday I too will fly and find you again
Let the wind carry you home Blackbird fly away May you never be broken again Beyond the suffering you’ve known I hope you find your way May you never be broken again.
“……….Ab na jaa………….” Palash Sen’s sorrow tinged voice almost slices through my heart. With a serrated edge. I guess I now realize why some people write and sing what they do. Cause today I want to sing that very melody. And weep.
She left yesterday. Not without notice though. We knew this was coming. A month prior to the actual thing. “To come to terms” with it. To ease it out for all. To smoothen the passage. To blunt the serrated edge.
With her, it was never an awful lot of words, that brought me closer to her. It was more often than not action. Being Hitlerian honest, sticking to your principles and being clever enough to convince people into seeing what you want them to see. Ways and means to achieve the ends does not matter. Action was of the ultimate consequence. I had become a part of that. And then she left.
In the yesteryears, I was never able to fathom, why the “thinking” light on her head blinked so often and that too with dangerous, eye and brain damaging intensity. Cause I never really understood the consequence. Though I could see it ( the consequence that is...........) with my own eyes. Until the precipitate of that consequence actually affected me. And now that I can lucidly understand why she trains her mind so hard to tear one thing apart, she is gone.
It’s easy being big and mature and elderly. Probably much more difficult to keep the kid inside you, safe at the same time. It’s easy to talk high brows and keep handing out bucket loads of advice to others. But hardly an easy breathing experience when life dishes out some of the same to you. It’s easy to start running around, searching for a helping hand. Some shoulder to cry on. I saw that kid in her. I heard words that comforted me. I found her hand and wanted to weep on her shoulder. but she has vanished.
It’s easy making friends, riding around on bikes, calling each other when you know everything is good. Easy to feel nice when there are no mistakes happening. But I think it takes some substance to confess before others, to put wrong things right, especially when the wrong is done by your own self and the one’s closest to you. She did that. She taught me , us, how to do that. And now she has left.
I can keep up with this terrible rant all day long. I could keep adding paragraphs and consequently bytes of data to this, crux of the matter not moving. Knowing a person and discovering one is entirely different and can be an amazing journey. Having a person and losing him/her is felt only if you have actually lost someone. Mere words do not make up for that. Saying “don’t worry, I will be there for you.” And actually being there demands a lot. And I know she is still there. Even though I can not see her. And my solitude shall now end with an honest, clean and simple "thank you".
P.S.: Me, i don't care. For me they are Gods and they cannot put a foot wrong. Just a piece of advice here. Sure i put up all these links here, but i have my opinions about everything Death Magnetic has to offer. So please, before being prejudiced, decide for yourself if you want to be or not.
Finally I did it! Well did not win the Formula 1 Constructors trophy for the McLaren Team, but something more important in the myopic future. Well, watched Rock On for the second time. First encounter did not start off well, I missed the song “Socha Hai” cause I and my friend were stuck in a traffic jam (these seem to appear in a lot of posts, don’t you think? It is a problem then…..:)…..)
I don’t think I can properly weigh the effect that movie is having on me. First time around, I was with 16 people, a litre of adrenaline in my bloodstream and leading a not so complicated life. Post that first viewing, I think things have changed very rapidly. Makes everything much more interesting and vivid. I know you agree. Then, I only knew it was about a rock band who got a second chance. And with the (frankly speaking, useless…) humour being handed out by the folks accompanying me, the movie was any other Bollywood flick with some very good music in it (hats off to shankar-ehsaan-loy, especially Ehsaan "Rockstar" Noorani for the amazing guitar melodies which make this movie such a joy). I loved the movie when I saw it the first time. And then we sat down on the dinner table to speak about stupid things like Farhan Akhtars diction and acting, Rampals fake guitar playing, Prachi Desai’s dresses, Zehreelay (hehehe)………et al.
All in all a paisa vasool movie one would say. And I would definitely agree. But I wanted to watch that start. In the theater. Might sound awful foolish, but I wanted to.and yesterday had the perfect chance to. Cause the people with me yesterday do not know me very well and when I turned up at the rendezvous point in a Lamb Of god t shirt, they might have given up on me all together. No use talking to this wannabe goth they must have said. Well, that actually worked fine for me. Cause then I could watch the movie in peace.
Reached the theater on time. The chances of those happening nowadays in Pune are close to nil, but the Leave-a-second-later-than-the-last-second organization has vowed not to bow down. Wasn’t crowded. More good news. We settled down and the lights went down. Dark. The reel started spinning.
I am not going to write a review of the movie, cause then it would be the worlds most biased and outrageously one sided review. And I think its gay to review a movie like Rock On. So, no, I wont do it. Integrity preserved.
It is hard as I already have said, to define what that movie has done to my mind set. Being (a sort of) musician and being a part of band, I could just feel every character and emotion. Be it the poet inside the investment banker, the guitarist who could own the world with his guitar but couldn’t own anything else, the mad drummer who had sadly sobered down (not the dying Rob. I am yet to be in that position and god knows I don’t want to be.) . Magik had their second chance. Even though it was short lived. But it released its members from their demons. They came together. They were bound together.
Ten years down the line I don’t know if I will be playing drums. Ten years back I wanted to be an Air Force pilot. Times change. Priorities change. Needs change. People change. But what that movie manages to tell you in the 2 hour span is, even if this is the case, you could redeem yourself if you are true to yourself. Right now , we , in Skepsis share an amazing chemistry. Right now I cannot dream of parting with those guys. Cause if we blow this , I am not really sure if I will come back to it. Would we go the Brute Force way, playing metal for a living. In a bollywood obsessed country. Those guys are doing awesome. I want the same for my band. But also know very well that it would be very difficult if I have to lead a “normal” life. Just some questions. Why doesn’t life let me do what I want to? Why do I always have to fight destiny and snatch it from the clutches of fate?
Maybe I am being too immature, naïve and even foolish as many of you might rightly point out. And I would be inclined to agree on rational grounds that I am. But what is the basis of that rationalism. I do not have to trust you cause you too at some point of time have given up your dreams and gone on to do what you were compelled to. For whatever reasons. That makes you a frustrated prick. That makes me not want to take any opinions from you. At least not on this.
A friend asked me after the movie , if I was a tad downbeat after watching the movie. Well yes and no. yes for the above reasons and no for some reason I could not find. As I said, hard to explain. But one thing for sure. Upto now, whatever I took meekly what life had handed out. Like a prisoner in a penitentiary. Well, now I want to make sure that dreams come true and in a way I want to. And if I have to fight for it, I will.
Hard to make any sense out of all of this. I know. Trying to do that . If someone understands it, please let me know.
If words were food, these would be the staple Diet for me .On the 2nd of September 2008, though i was having a eat(swear)-all-you-can feast. It was pouring cats , dogs, zebras and what not . for 2 effing hours. And I was stuck in a leaky ass photo studio near Juna bazaar for 2 hours. As if being drenched was not enough, I was given a lesson in drip irrigation by the ill made roof of that shop. No electricity. All I could do was have my Diet (:D) and think about what went wrong when all seemed to be going right.
We had practiced our hearts out on this one. After 3 failures we had to earn some respect out there. Skepsis had to have some recognition. We jammed , we fought, we pondered. Everything , every action that goes into the process of creating and playing some music (ok, we did not create any originals…..so only played) , we went through it all. A whole truck load of emotion. The night before we were going to supposedly set the stage on fire, everything seemed to be working fine. All seemed to be in order. I left for my flat thinking on the theatrics I would dish out on stage. Reached home. Went to sleep.
Next day, bright sunshine. Good day, I thought, for a performance. Strapped the guitar to my back (I don’t play guitar, just carry my friends guitar to show off…….:D) and went to work. Every eagle eyed chap at the office noticed the guitar. Why not. Half of them had just seen it on the tube or in their dreams. Lolz. Left my desk at 4:30pm, well before time. All seemed perfect till this point of time. Until I reached Shivaji Nagar, where all hell broke loose. It was raining like no tomorrow.Diet. Managed to reach that God forsaken photo studio before the rains became too heavy and I became to worried to carry on. You cannot destroy a beautiful Samick Greg Benett (sunburst orange surrounded by cherry red ) guitar by exposing it to the elements as such. And it would also be a 10k kick up my backside. No sir, thank you very much.
So , back to the photo studio. 2 hours. I was completely drenched. But still waited for the rains to slow down. In the hope that I would perform the songs for which I had busted my ass in practice. In the hope of the lime light, the applause. but not to be. The rain did slow down. At about 7:10pm. And so did the traffic. In fact the vehicles were not moving at all. Monumental traffic jam. Diet again. Had to happen now? Diet. Diet. Got my bike , of the stand, punched thestarter and entered the moving labyrinth. Diet.
The maze was moving, and then as always , I did not know the directions to the venue. So I had to ask some punk on a bike, where the BJ medical college grounds were. And he pointed to some direction he was not looking at. And I did not care to confirm it. Took that direction , I did. And then kept moving in circles for the next hundred trillion gazillion years. That’s what a traffic jam can do to the engine and your head. One look at the watch. 7:45 pm. Diet. We were on at 8 pm. And I still did not know where the medical grounds were. Did not bother to reason out that such competitions are not held on open grounds cause it is the rainy fucking season. Did not bother that I had kicked 2 people in the process of getting ahead. Did not bother that I reached Nucleus mall when the place I wanted to reach was the other way round. I just wanted to get out of the traffic. So I left the bike at the mall, guitar on back and my drum kit bag in hand, started running. Took my cell phone out. A hundred million missed calls. And could not reach anyone cause all the networks were congested. Diet. I kept running.
Met Ketan on the way. He was as confused as I was. And in all this chaos he kept shouting at me, “dude where is Sasoon hospital?”. I wanted to kick his ass, but I did not havethe time. The cell phone buzzed to life. It was Chirayu. And he had an Airtel connection. I think that should say enough about the voice quality. All I managed to decipher out of the noise and shouting was “venue, Sasoon hospital Audito….”. Diet. Diet. How can they change the venue? No I wasn’t thinking then. Picked up an old man on the footpath, asked him where sasoon was, grabbed Ketans collar and ran. Hell I was possessed. Another look at the watch..................8:00pm.
My heart skipped a beat. And then a searing bolt of pain shot up my left foot. Diet diet. A desperate biker had climbed the footpath , lost control of the throttle and straight onto my foot. I let out such an anguished cry , that I think he peed in his pants. Diet. Swore at him. No wait . I did not. I was running as soon as I managed to extricate my foot from under the bikes wheel. Kept running. Like a demon. No I cant be late. Cant. Just cant.
Have to perform. Where? Where are we?Kept looking left right. Where was Sasoon? And then suddenly, with the bus departing , I stood still for a second. I was right in front of its gate. And between the gate and the me was an iron fence. Hell, whats that when I have come so far. Leapt over it. Even though I knew i couldn’t.Ripped my track pants. Wet track pants. Cant wait. Have to run. Akshay was standing at the gate. I had arrived. Handed him the drum kit sack, still running, we rushed straight to the auditorium. Managed to bump into a couple of girls . but did not do it on purpose. They were pretty though. Not now Manan, not now.
When I showed up on the door of that changing room, the people were looking at me as though they had seen a ghost. And then they were up shouting. 8:07pm. I threw the guitar towards Chirayu, who held it perfectly(surprise!) and ripped open my sack to get my drum sticks. And went directly on stage. To face a booing, jeering crowd.
I smiled. Times had not changed. Kalyani. Same crowd. Same setting. Only today I was in no mood to give up. I was hungry. I was wet. I was angry. I was desperate. For something. No not this time. This time we will break you up. A couple of paper balls hit Aldon. Some morehit Shrikant. But we were busy.Tuning guitars and adjusting the toms and the cymbals. And then Chirayu lookedat me. It all stopped.
“manya, are you ready?”
Diet. I was. And I nodded.
Then those first notes, those legendary notes for the intro to Nothing else matters. Shrikants finger moved the guitar volume over the useless crowd. And the crowd shut the eff up. Yeah yeah baby, that’s it. And crash! It started. The storm was rising. Shankar screamed.......“..........And I know…………………”. I was drumming with my eyes closed till then. Till then. And when Chirayu raged into the final solo, it had come to fruition. The storm was rising. No quelling. No stopping now.
Diet!
And when I stopped hitting whatever I was hitting, there was a thunderous applause. Kids clapping, bowing down. I felt like Lars Ulrich. Proud. Angry. Happy. Energetic. But now was not the time to rejoice. I had to be Guy Patterson now. And then all of sudden, one lookat Shankar and one wink later, I blasted off. Elysium. Fast and heavy . groovy. As soon as people heard the first words of thatsong, their feet started moving, tapping. Hell , I wanted to dance. “You…….doing that thing you do……… breaking my heart into a million pieces……………..”
Hell broke loose after that song. People just wouldn’t have enough of clapping. There was this heavenly glow on everyones face. Even though we were wet, miserable and tired. And then Rahul took the microphone and announced in his simple mammas boy, slightly marathi accented voice, “ the next song is Khamaj.....by Fuzon”
And there was utter silence. Diet.
People were biting their nails. How can this dude pull off such a difficult song? How?
And sure enough when it came time for Rahul to weave his magic, he messed up cause of too much feedback from the amplifiers. But he was quick to check it and back on. And we dished out a silent killer of a track! No doubts! People were on their feet even before we finished playing. And they were flooding back to the dressing rooms to congratulate us .
“you going to win man. Amazing!”
“God dam it guys! awesome”
“Dude.bhaari. wed khech la tumhi!”
I could not believe I was hearing anything like this. Sort of used to the ridicule or at the most the formal claps after a mediocre performance. Not that night. Wehad set the stage on fire. Completely.
And when the prizes were announced, we stood third, cause we lacked stage act. Period. Diet. But the silver lining was that Chirayu was crowned the best axe slinger and rahul was the new vocal legend. We could hardly contain it.
We had done it. Time to go out and celebrate. Wet times, Good times! Oops me hungry man! All of us were.
Oh yeah, we did have chaos again that night, when Ketan forgot where he had parked his bike and we ran another bike dry trying to find his. But all that was quelled at 1:30 in the night when Vinay s name beeped on my cell phone. “Bike sapadli!” . Diet. That was it. Perfect end to it all. And I drifted off to never never land. With a smile.
Nice little poem by the great Alexander Pope. Puts a smile on your face straight away. Enjoy......:D
On a certain Lady at Court
I KNOW a thing that 's most uncommon; (Envy, be silent and attend!) I know a reasonable woman, Handsome and witty, yet a friend.
Not warp'd by passion, awed by rumour; Not grave through pride, nor gay through folly; An equal mixture of good-humour And sensible soft melancholy.
'Has she no faults then (Envy says), Sir?' Yes, she has one, I must aver: When all the world conspires to praise her, The woman's deaf, and does not hear.
Another piece of (useless?!!?) aggression from yours truly. Done in something like 15 minutes, suggestions are definitely needed on this one.
Acid looks Caustic volleys War lines and swords Drawn and stay. Awaiting the storm The dust and the wind Clangs and clashes Sparks from metal shining clean Beads of sweat, Knuckles of anxiety. Rise of clamour, Sharp blur in clarity. "infantry in formation!" Drummed into the ears. Shields of pride. Shine in the heat that sears "Charge!", bellows the general Mad rush of adrenaline. Blind release of fury Blood thirst rising within Midfield, when the walls converge Flesh and blood hugs the earth Silence and chaos comes to fruition Eternal light to mind and heart.
This here is a piece of writing by a very good friend of mine. Coward wants to remain unknown so i will oblige. But, the lines are very forthcoming. Like i love to say, direct dil se.
Dreamy eyes wake up, yearning to meet hers. eyes filled with the spring break Messengers of imminent dawn. Half blinded by the flash of lightning That strikes down on mellow mother Sustaining life. i look out the window Shrieks of young ones, splashing water ; and miss the dawn of my life. The thunder crescendoes in Intertwining with the steady rain Music it is to my ears loneliness, it hurts. the pain just replays her voice, Not two hours old as yet Nascent, a force by itself. Call it mad love. infatuation or hormonal play. The touch of that velvet skin reaks lightening strikes on my heart and i feel just fine. every moment, this rain descends. brings her next to me makes me smile once again tinge of sadness, Strange kind of romance. Here she is again Drops descending to meet salvation Vapour trails mark their intercourse Sweet violence in love. It suddenly dawns, warmth of a hundred suns My lips greet this life. As the thunder rumbles on Heavenly bliss till the mist descends Departs with my sunrise. To meet me again when the clouds gather.
New Jersey (Article II, Section 1, Paragraph 6)[14]
A resolution was passed by the State Legislature in January 2007 to remove "idiot or insane", and to add the qualifying phrase "who has been adjudicated by a court of competent jurisdiction to lack the capacity to understand the act of voting." As the resolution put it succintly, "This proposed amendment to the Constitution shall be submitted to the people at the next general election occurring more than three months after the final agreement. This constitutional amendment shall become part of the New Jersey Constitution upon approval by the voters." [15] The amendment passed the referendum on November 6, 2007. Hence, "New Jersey" is now crossed out in this list. [16]
Some great news from the metal world and the bands that i absolutely adore and respect!
A new Iron Maiden tribute album ==> here The track listing for the new album by Metallica called "Death Magnetic" ==>here The first video for Death Magnetic ==> here The headline acts at Bloodstock 2008 in Derby England ==> here
A piece of poetry right of out of my yester years, one of the very best. A classic from the hand of the great Lord Alfred Tennyson. This piece of writing also did something to inspire some little known band called Iron Maiden to write a not so well known song called "The Trooper". :D.
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade! "Charge for the guns!" he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!" Was there a man dismay'd? Not tho' the soldier knew Someone had blunder'd: Their's not to make reply, Their's not to reason why, Their's but to do and die: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred.
Flash'd all their sabres bare, Flash'd as they turn'd in air, Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd: Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro' the line they broke; Cossack and Russian Reel'd from the sabre stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd. Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, While horse and hero fell, They that had fought so well Came thro' the jaws of Death Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made! All the world wondered. Honor the charge they made, Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred!
P.S. :Found this website. Contains works from most of the great English poets ==> here
Half a league onward,