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Monday, June 23, 2008

Cliches and Cliques!

"you don't smoke?!?!?! dude u are a blot on the Metal community! you are not even a real metalhead!!!"

"You gave up booze?!?!? lets just keep this amongst us..........and please do not hook up with me at any gig. otherwise i will be the laugh of the place."

"Clean on dope? what?!!! have you lost your marbles? dude if you want to be the next James Hetfield, u got to have a PhD in shooting stuff in your veins!"

"where are the piercings man? are you scared man? do they puncture you........???"

"Long hair man! sign of the true head banger!"

"satan rules man!! down with the conformist shit!!"

"how can you listen to rap and hip-hop man? that ain't music man. that is crap!"

Been there and faced that!


\m__m/..........heavy metal...........the music rocks...........nuthin else matters!

Friday, June 6, 2008

Head Rush...........................

Wrote something more. Enjoy!

Five missed calls already. The sixth one was on its way. And I was there still giving some advice to one of my mates on phone. I knew I was in trouble big time. You do not keep people waiting on their birthday. Its way too special for them. And especially beware if the person in concern is a girl.

So, there I was on the phone, jumping up and down like I had red ants in my pants. I had to disconnect at the earliest. I had to get ready, get the bike out and just vroom away. “I am all decked up,” she had told me over a chat conversation we had earlier in the day. Now who wouldn’t want to check out what “decked out” was all about. I could barely contain myself. In the energy of things I sort of reprimanded my mate on the phone for wasting my time, then realized I had made a mistake, apologized and then quickly hit the red button.

Jeans, a new “Converse” tee and a dash of some new deodorant I had brought would be my armor to the “decked up” onslaught. But I rather knew I would be losing the draw hands down. Ironical isn’t it? Checked my watch. Gosh I was late. A hurried sprint on my bike and I reached the rendezvous point. She was standing there, but my puny brain chose not to look at her rather ordering my hand to call her up. Which I did. And then she slyly comes up on me from behind. Sweet Lord. She really was decked up. She looked lovely. A red coloured dress is the sort of panacea to cold hearts. It sets them on rage.

“Kahan jayenge?” she asked , half smiling, half concerned.

“Your choice madam…………..your birthday!”

“I dunno a lot of places. You do. You are the one roaming around.” And she winked. I did not want to answer. Just keep looking at her. But I just had to. Scruff.

“ ok , 2 choices, KP or FC?”

“That’s easy. KP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hop aboard then.”

Wasn’t near that place. But that was not at all the concern. She climbed on the pillion seat, made a million and one adjustments, completely oblivious to the fact that I lost half the fuel I began with in that time.

“I am ready! Lets go!”

She was sitting really close to me. It was very awkward. Someone sitting so close to me. For the first time. She was close to me. Mentally , spiritually. Physical is just taboo though. But tonight was very very different. I shuddered when her hands touched my shoulder. My vision went slightly blurry. I had to let go the handle to regain my focus. Her perfume was so intoxicating, it just would not let me think of anything else. The only other thing I could really remember was “Careless Whisper” by George Michael. The sax piece around which his words float is just as intoxicating.

But we had to go. And I had to ride the bike. And she was beautiful. How could I do it? But I had to. Slowly at first. But then I managed to work up the speed. And when we were really going fast, she suddenly just gripped me. My God!!! The warmth from her body fusing into mine. Mellowing down. Like butter that melts over a piece of warm bread. Holy Lord! How do I rein in my senses?? I would just stop the bike mid road and do either of the things: ask her politely to maintain a “distance” or just go faster and ……………..

We reached the hotel. Famished by the time we got there, an empty table was good to see. “Order something”. She said. But who was paying attention? I just grunted every time she asked my opinion on some dish. Who wanted to look at the menu card when the she was there, in front of me. Her face bathed in candle light. Warm yellow around her, encircling her like an aura. Just making me feel chivalrous. Like a noble knight from the 17th century, going down on his knees and asking the damsel to be his woman. “Wilst thou care to spend the rest of your precious life with this ignorant man???” Will she? I could have waited generations for that answer.

She kept talking about something or the other. And I was replying briefly. Come on. I mean you can not expect me to be strong enough to ignore her beauty while sitting straight in front of her. And when her mom called (I think she was slightly embarrassed when it happened), I gave up all the shame I possessed and was just straight staring at her. An up market restaurant guaranteed that a lot of “pretty” girls would be present. Who are they? Did I care?

I think she realized that but still went on. Fair enough I think. She likes me I know. I do too. Just known each other 11 months. Does it really matter when each moment spent together feels like 11 millenniums?? I hope she knew what was going on in my mind. Did I?

On our return journey she was fast asleep. Head resting on my back. Her arms draped around my shoulder. Again the warmth of her body, the fragrance of her perfume. My right hand could not resist the urge to go faster. Faster towards the faraway lights. Faster to get away from this pleasing sensation which had completely flooded my senses. Faster, before I went crazy. Faster towards a temporary liberation from that which is good. Faster. Faster still.

Reached her place. Was time to say good bye. I was sleepy. Ooops sort of a heavy dinner. Never realized it. Her hair was disheveled. The kajal spread around her eyes. The make up slight ruined. Smudge of marks of some make up thing on my tee. What would I want to realize? All I could really think about was her. Rather the vanity of her. Rush of mad affection. A very sweet head rush.

“Good night. Sweet dreams of your…..ahem. Hehehehhe” she said. Keep talking dear. Please do not stop.

“Yeah good night.” My stupid mouth blurted out.

Oh I would have loved to have a few more moments alone with her. And then some more. Exhilaration of the encounter? I would not count that out.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008


Just tried a hand at penning prose. Hope if at least someone can like it.

I am going to meet her today. It is fairly important we have a sit down. Cause this concerns our lives. And on my mp3 player, Led zeppelin is playing “Kashmir”. Groove beat. Strings. Bass. The bus is moving. Familiar scenes. This is an oft visited area. Again the high on that drum roll. All I can think about is the song. How can someone make the song so good? The simple drumming, the crescendos et al. Bus takes a right turn. Time for me to get down. I move down the aisle, shoving my bulk around on everyone, rousing them from their everyday sleeps. I am not a regular on this bus. The one that takes me to my haven is usually half empty. Not this though.

But I had to get down. The ice cream parlor. The bus heaves to a sighing stop and I descend to check my watch. 5 minutes before time. The Robert Plants wail. The groove. It was still there. Nothing better than an ice cream, I thought and helped myself to one.

Nodding my head to the seemingly lazy beats. Not long before, I managed to finish the cup. Still Kashmir playing. Puzzled? Oh then remembered that I had put the song on repeat. Just can’t get too much of it. Hmmmm.

She was 7 minutes late. I could spot her from a mile off. She looked pretty. As always. But today was different. I was not the same as always. Listening to that song, had introduced in me that kind of lust, that ecstasy that comes from kissing ones lover and nothing else can satiate it. Obscene is the right word for me now.

She stops her bike, looks at me and smiles. She parks it and looks around for any whistle toting police men. No one in sight. One sigh and she heaves it onto the stand. Oh god she looks wonderful. Those large eyes. Innocence. Calm. She looks at me again. Smiles. Only Kashmir was stopping me from having panic attacks. She crosses the street, very careful. Extra careful, my dear, I seemed to say.

“Hi. Wassup?”

“Nuthin. Was just reading a book. How are you?”

“Shall we get something to eat?”

“I am not hungry, but if you are I will give you company.”

I had the slyest smile anyone could have, on my face. Evil. Lusty.

We entered the nearby Pizza hut outlet and ordered something. She sat opposite to me, the twilight casting a brilliant red and violet on her face. Lovely. Anyone would be in love with her. But the one-on-one was for some reason.

“So……” I began “how was your day?”

“Nothing much. Actually I spent pretty much all my time thinking about why you like me. I mean an extrovert person like you could find a like minded girl for yourself easily. Why me?”

“Is it such a crime? I can not say that I did it on purpose. It just happened. “

“No no, it’s not wrong for someone to love somebody. But in this case why me? What was so special in me? We barely know each other……………….”

She kept talking. Rather she kept asking questions. And I vehemently defended myself. For every question of her. I did not even have to think. All the while I had this little voice in my head go

“Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face, stars to fill my dream
I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been…………………………..”

Where? How? I run my hand into my shirt pocket, to find the mp3 player resting there, switched off. Where was the sound coming from? And all this happening when I am replying to her questions and her reasons for denial. How is this possible?

“Oh, pilot of the storm that leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream
You've the map that led me to that place, yellow desert stream
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again
Sure as the dust that blows high in June, when moving through Kashmir………….”

I am walking in Kashmir, the cold evening. Hand in hand with her. She looks beautiful. More than ever. And as the sun sets. I turn around to cover her from it. And kiss her.

“Hey you here?”

I wake up with a jolt. Oh, day fucking dreaming!!! But I did not sweat for one strange moment. Why? How is that possible? You have to be at least surprised when you wake up like that? But I am not thinking any of that. I want to kiss her. The sun is going down. This is the time. Aahhhhh………..

We kept talking till it was way past all time. Dinner time. She asked me to come to her place for a homely simple dinner.

“Yes. Yes I am coming. How can I not come?”

But that’s not what came out of my mouth. Rather a very stupid,

“No I will be heading home. Need some sleep. Have to be in office early tomorrow.”

Bloody hell, how could I say that?

“Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years
with no provision but an open face, along the straits of fear

Sweet lord no, Kashmir again. She is waving me goodbye. Her bike billows up a puff of smoke. She is gone. I know I will meet her again. But what did I tell her all this while. Oh boy, I am going to have a hard time figuring that out.

How I wished I had kissed her before she left. That I had not let go of her hand. Not let her get out of my sight. But the twilight is gone. It is dark now. I shout out to an auto and ask him to carry me back to my place. “Half return honar sahib.” “Chalel.” Stick the earphones in my ears, switch the mp3 player ON. There it is again. Kashmir.