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Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Heavy Metal X-mas!

Thanks to Matthew Arthur from Huntsville, Texas, for writing this awesome heavy-metal Xmas story. The first half of the story was printed in the upcoming issue of Revolver, which will be on stands December 21. You can check out the rest of it below.

"A Heavy-Metal Xmas Story "

Once long ago in the Valley of the Dark Abyss, three wise men, Ozzy, Ronnie James Dio (R.I.P.), and Robert Plant looked to the sky and saw a dark pentagram glowing many miles away. They knew at once the King was born.

They packed their belongings: weed, bongs, beer, and porn mags, and climbed atop their dragons to make the journey to the new King. Once they reached the destination of the new King, the parents of the newly born child introduced him as Randy Rhoads.

The three wise men spoke of the great things the child would do for the metal world and showered him with gifts. They brought Black Sabbath’s Paranoid, Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy, and Dio’s Heaven and Hell with Sabbath. They said one day the child would make a great sacrifice for all of the metalheads of the world. The three wise men looked on with great pride as young Randy grew to be the most fiercest guitar player in the world, one of them even taking human form to work with him, but that’s another story.

The metal world was grateful for the metal injection it was receiving.

One day while on tour, a cloud opened up revealing John Bonham. He spoke to Randy saying, “It is time, Randy, to lay down your life for the future of metal.” Bonham spoke of the tragedies that were to come; Seattle grunge, emo, and Kings of Leon fans.

Randy accepted his fate to push the metal world from the abyss, sending bits and pieces of his soul to make metal last into the fingers of Kerry King, Dimebag Darrell (R.I.P.), Dave Mustaine, Kirk Hammett, Jeff Hanneman, Marty Friedman, and countless others, making it possible for us to smoke weed, drink beer, eat pussy, and most importantly, BANG YOUR FUCKING HEAD. You can’t kill rock-n-roll!

Merry X-mas to all metalheads!


Pulses of light,
Throbbing of hearts.
Voices in unison,
Glow in the dark.
Hands holding firm,
When the mind stands alone.
Snow falls slowly,
smearing branches with messages from the unreal
Remembrance in time,
Of all the smiles we had.

Saturday, December 18, 2010


Have been listening to this band "Mrigya" quite a lot in the near past. Great contemporary music, a good fusion of Indian and western styles. For me this band represents the next step in evolution in the type of music that Indian Ocean was and is at the forefront of. Please do give a listen cause the songs are darn good.

P.S.: Posting all the videos i could find. For audio, you know where to look....:)

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Aesthetics of Hate....R.I.P. Dimebag Darrell...

Well, for the metalheads out there, Dimebag Darrell, lead guitarist for Pantera/Damageplan was killed on 8th December 2004 in Ohio while playing on stage. While that was bad enough, this following article was just salt on wound and for no apparent reason.


You've undoubtedly heard by now that a demented fan last week killed heavy metal guitarist Dimebag Abbott at the Alrosa Villa in Columbus, Ohio . While I am extremely happy to hear that the assassin was shot to death by a brave Columbus policeman and I in no way want to engage in a blaming the victim scenario, I cannot deny that there much in Mr. Abbott's demise of one being hoisted on one's petard. The squalor, inhumanity, filth (both in the metaphorical and hygienic senses), depravity, ugliness and ignorance of everything that heavy metal represents (Like rap, I cannot use the noble term music in a description of heavy metal) creates a mindset among its devotees in which Mr. Abbott's assassination was an event that was all but waiting to happen.

It was highly amusing, and also terribly sad, to watch on television fans conducting a "vigil" for the slain Mr. Abbott outside of the Alrosa Villa. It was an assemblage of ignorant, semi-human barbarians who were filthy in attire and manner, intellectually incoherent and above all else, hideously ugly to the point of physical deformity. Here is a definite case in which the outer appearance of these "fans" accurately represented the hideousness of their souls. That the physical deformity of their ugliness was self-inflicted makes the spiritual tragedy of their misspent lives all the more tragic.

But one can see why the heavy metal fans so closely identified with Mr. Abbott. He was an ignorant, barbaric, untalented possessor of a guitar and large amplifier system. Freakish in appearance, more simian than human, he was the performer of a type of "entertainment" that can be likened only to a gorilla on PCP. Lacking subtlety, wit, style, emotional range and anything approaching even the smallest iota of intellectual or musical interest, Mr. Abbott was part of a generation that has confused sputum with art and involuntary reflex actions with emotion.

De gustibus non disputandem est. Matters of taste are not subject to argument. That has been a general principle of aesthetics for some time, and when we are talking about the visceral preference for Mozart or Haydn or Beethoven among civilized human beings we are on pretty safe ground. I do not understand exactly why I prefer Haydn to my good friend who prefers Beethoven. But we both agree (as do all civilized human beings) that both Messrs. Haydn and Beethoven are numerous steps further along the evolutionary trail than Dimebag Abbott.

Here is one area in which conservatives have failed and failed miserably. Whether it is out of a lack of interest or despair, conservatives for too long have ceded the entire field of aesthetics to the trust fund red babies of the blue states. And look at what this has brought us. So-called heavy metal music, so-called rap music, operas and stage plays in which modern "stagings" reduce Verdi and Shakespeare to the condition of a schizophrenic's finger paintings. Leftist domination in the visual arts has made a mockery of the aesthetic greatness of modernism and replaced it with the turd encased in Lucite. And the grammatically-challenged racist rantings of Amiri Baraka now pass for poetry.

However, we conservatives should not confuse family values with aesthetics. In the realm of art, our evangelical brethren have many crimes to answer for. When a church replaces Bach with Bacharach it has engaged in the aesthetic rape of the liturgy. Just because one has good intentions and approaches the numinous with "sincerity" and "authenticity" (the latter term ironically being a buzzword among the Marxist aestheticians of the Frankfurt School ), that does not absolve one from aesthetic responsibility.

As far as I am concerned, those who advocate a dumbed-down liturgy and schlocky pop music substitutes for Bach, Handel and the masses of the Renaissance, are as offensive as the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church and his perverse sexual politics.

Part of the hard work of civilization is teaching young to be able to distinguish between the good and the bad in all aspects of life. If we teach our young children to obey the 10 Commandments and to obey the laws of the land, but don't teach them to realize that Johann Sebastian Bach is superior to Dimebag Abbott, we have failed as parents and mentors. If a person has gone through 12 or 13 years of education and has not developed an appreciation for the greatest artistic achievements of mankind, that education has been an utter failure.

While laissez-faire is the correct approach to economics it has no place in the realm of aesthetics or morality. A confidant civilization imposes its morality and aesthetics on it young people. Yes, you heard it right. We impose. The Rousseauian noble savage is a myth. Left unchecked and untutored the savage will never attain nobility.

There are those who will accuse me of elitism. And I admit it. I am a conservative elitist. I want the very best. The very best form of government, the very best of civilizations, the very best educational system, the very best literature and art, the very best music, the very best way of life. If I need open heart surgery I want to go to an elite heart surgeon.

Mediocrity is the goal of socialism. Americans should aspire to greatness.

In the past forty years, conservatives have won great victories in the political, economic and moral realms, but we stand to throw all our gains away if we do not reclaim ascendancy in the aesthetic realm as well.

And while the murder of even a semi-human barbarian like Mr. Abbott is tragic and to be lamented, it would be wrong to ignore Mr. Abbott's complicity in contributing to the soul-deadening culture of death, ugliness, depravity and inhumanity that spawned his killer.

Hugo von Hofmannsthal once remarked that "all powerful imaginations are conservative." It is time for conservatives to utilize their imaginations and reclaim the field of aesthetics from the left-that is, while there is still something left in the aesthetic realm worth reclaiming.


Now, I do not need to say anything about this article other than - a load of bullshit. But here is the flip side. Machine Head guitar player and lead singer, Robb Flynn, is a great Dimebag fan and he was so incensed on reading this article, instead of slandering Mr. Grim, wrote a song, called "Aesthetics of Hate" which was released on their album "The Blackening". They had the last laugh, cause the song was nominated for the Grammy for "The Best Heavy Metal Song". Now thats rock 'n roll. 'Nuff said methinks. R.I.P. Dimebag and keep the gig alive up there!

P.S.: By the way, Dimebag is the lead guitarist of the greatest metal band there is in Heaven-land, if such a thing exists. The other members of the band are :

Lead singer : Ronnie James Dio (Ex - Black Sabbath, Heaven and Hell, Dio)
Lead/Rhythm Guitar : Randy Rhoads (Ex - Ozzy Osbourne)
Bass : Cliff Burton (Ex - Metallica )
Drums : John Bonham (Ex - Led Zeppelin)

Just wondering what kind of songs would they be churning out.................

Wednesday, December 8, 2010


Dedicated to all who were maimed in the December 6th blast at Varanasi.

Travelled he has, the distances of a great land;
Orange robes and sacred ashes his only possessions.

Begged for food, craved he wisdom;
Knowledge eternal to survive the mortal shell.

Callused his feet, found solace at temples and shrines,
hunger, satiated by nourishment from kind strangers.
The rebukes and the sneers, he had smiled through ;

Days and night, warm and cold, seasons left him marked.

Many years on, the banks of the Ganges he sees,
His joy known no bounds, tears run down in streaks.
"jai Ma Gange" chants he, raises his arms in praise,
Ran like a little child to his mother.

Spends his hours, meditating on the banks,

Closed eyes, steadfast in thought.
the noise and the movement around do not bother him;
For the rustle of the Ganges meandering is the only sound he can hear.

The morning aarti, his start of the day,
his material offering to the holy flow.
He held the flame and whirled it round,
Obeisance to the Water flowing down.

And loud, Hell opened up,

Shards of clay sprayed around.

Pandemonium reared its head and laughed,
And scared legs scatter all around

Loses his balance, the flame, goes tumbling

Trampled under a rain of feet.
unable to raise his arm,
unable to finish his prayer.

When the anarchy silenced down

The ripple of the waves was the only voice heard

he was bleeding from the cuts and scars
a river of red originating from him

All his life, he had prayed for salvation
meditated for knowledge,to be one with ether.
Prayed to the Ganges to bless his final journey
And promise him eternal salvation.

Saw he, his blood, rolling down the stairs,

and be one with the crystal River.
Dissolve in what he held holiest,
and resolve his quandary.

Summoned all his will and strength,
and all his humility he could muster.
He said "O Mother, take me with you"
"And lead me to salvation".

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Vande Mataram - Tarana

Sung by the uber-melodious Kaushiki Chakrabarty, do give a listen. Enjoy.
P.S. : If the embedded player does not materialise for some geeky reason just use the link given below. Let the stupidity not stop you from listening to some good music.



Thursday, November 25, 2010


26th November ...... remembrance of the horrors perpetrated....... hoping that it never happens again. 

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Pushing the envelope....the heavy metal way!

A casual conversation in the life of a little known metal band called "Meshuggah"......introducing the characters....

Fredrik Thordendal - Lead guitars - plays an Ibanez custom 8-string guitar.

Tomas Haake - Drummer - Plays a Sonor kit with Sabian cymbals

Fredrik : Hey Tomas, long time no beer. Ready for some new metal music?

Tomas : Fuck yeah man!....you got something?

Fredrik : yeah, yeahh. Wrote this song called "Bleed" and composed it on the PC.

Tomas : Sounds brutal!

Fredrik : Here, come listen to this cool drum part i wrote for this song...

Tomas puts the headphones on......starts listening to the track.

Tomas : Fuck...:O!

For people who's eyebrows have shot up and have no clue of what is going on around here, check out the song posted below. And especially listen to the drum parts which were watered down from the ones originally written for this track. Tomas reportedly spent 6 months practising the drums for this one track....:D

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Second coming.....

The great redwood uprooted fell,
On terra firma lies peacefully.
Anger hath it not,
nor malice, in its heart.
For in its wake,
it knows it sheltered;
the growth of a new seed.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

The demise of Linkin Park

Friends and family, we have gathered here, to mourn the sad demise of Linkin Park, one of the best and most successful alternative rock bands of our time. From the band that gave us the seminal "Hybrid Theory" and the fantastic "Meteora", who would have thought it would end like this?

With the ultra-awful bollocks album called "Minutes to Midnight" and its stupid bastard child, "A Thousand Suns"? From the band where Chester's screams and Mike's rapping had everybody pumping fists and banging heads, it has come to being Justin Bieber and Justin Timberlake on steroids.

From personal experience, I will tell you that LP was the band that got me into heavy stuff. It was my first step. Reading the lyrics of "Papercut" and being scared of your own shadow was where the fun began. Rapping with Viren in the middle of the night on the verses of "Points of Authority", banging my head to "One Step Closer" and feeling awesome about "Crawling". And the screaming attitude of "Hit the Floor" and the melodic Shakuhachi flute piece of "Nobody's" Listening". Those are the moments this band gave me. And many more.

Then came apocalypse. "Minutes to Midnight" was the paralysis, since there was that one good song on that "What I've done" and "A Thousand Suns" was the full blown heart attack. Dead as a dodo. No signs of revitalisation. Lights out, curtain down.

So, good folks, who bothered to read this, listen to the first two albums and be sad that there are no more coming. And for fucks sake, do not listen to "A Thousand Suns". A bucketful of horse manure will give you more to cheer about than that album.

To the deceased,
Mike, Chester, Brad, Rob, Phoenix and Mr Hahn - Please wake the fuck up!

In Memoriam......the best of Linkin Park!

Saturday, November 6, 2010


Leaves green, fly away;
Melt into autumns charm.
Yellow laid they a carpet,
On the soil so calm.

Silent are the nooks from whence,
spoke beautifully the koel.
Sweeps on the deserted stems,
Diabolic the gushing gale.

Carried afar, all the colours,
You charmed the spring away.
Dress sparkling of slade emeralds,
Hands holding the lights of life.

You smile away from a picture far,
surrounded by what you hold most dear.
Your abode of proesperity and peace,
Kept safe from the shadow of a tear.

Promise to who in foreign land lives;
your return will be imminent.
In full splendor and glory resplendent;
For he counts every minute and moment,
for the welcome sound and scent.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


Sonorous metal, blowing martial sounds;
At which the universal host upsent.

A shot that tore Hell's concave, and beyond,

Frighted that reign of Chaos and old Night
- Milton, Paradise Lost

Apart from listening to heavy metal, I seem to have picked up one more bad habit. No, not swearing, I picked that up in high school. No, its reading heavy metal literature. And heavy metal literature does not mean The Satanic Bible (which is a real document and can be found on the internet). Following is the crazy train of what I am reading now.....

1. "Black Sabbath and the rise of Heavy Metal Music" by Andrew Cope
Fantastic book to understand the basics of metal and the difference between hard rock and heavy metal. Very detailed technical musical explanations. Ability to read musical notations and and use Wikipedia effectively would come in handy. Also a very skinny book, so will not take months to be done with.

2. "Heavy Metal" by Deena Weinstein
I would call this book, "Heavy Metal 101". A beginners guide to this wonderful music with a very intense culturo - sociological angle. Lotsa pages in this one, but nothing technical in this, so you will skim through them faster.

3. "Damage Incorporated : Metallica and the production of musical identity" by Glen Pillsbury
A must read for Metallica fans. Again, a little technical, with the musical notations. But, indispensible.

4. "Extreme Metal - Music and culture on the edge" by Keith Kahn-Harris
Any death/black/math/speed metal fans out there? Even if not, this book is a good discussion on the birth and various aspects of extreme metal music.

I know that some people might find this fact that heavy metal can turn someone to literature a little over the top. But let me throw in one more fact. The lyrics in the albums, "A Farewell to Kings " and "Hemispheres" by the Canadian progressive rock/metal band "Rush" are heavily influenced by the writings of the novelist Ayn Rand. I rest my case.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

R.I.P. ............

The ignorance is already beyond what I can take, so I have decided to put a word out. If you know me, are a friend, live in Pune and ride around on a bike or scooter, you better fucking wear a helmet. Or I will come right up to you and fucking kick your nuts in. That pain is better than seeing you dead on some street in a grisly mess, which is a certainty, given the way people ride/drive in Pune. Educated dunder-headed  morons is a better sobriquet for if you do not motherfucking gear up right away. I do not want to be sitting here in the USA fucking receiving another message that somebody died because of no fucking helmet.

So fucking buy one if you do not have already and wear it if you have. Fucking misers, you can in all probability afford a good helmet and if you can not, I think your parents will lend you money to buy one. To those who think that their way of riding/driving is safe, let me tell you that its fucking dildos and take it from me that you cannot fucking predict what someone else is thinking on their vehicles. Gear the fuck up right now and take good fucking care of your vehicle. Take this as a word of fucking caution from someone who has had a potentially fatal accident and is alive just because he was wearing a good helmet. 

To Mandar Bane, Rest in peace

and to people who think this post is too profane, I do not fucking give two shits.  

Thursday, October 28, 2010


What do you do when you there is despair all around, when depression has gotten the better of you? Well, of course you do not give up living. You, being human, given the opportunity to do something, go ahead, and well, do something. Let me tell you of one story, rather fable that I know of. 

It was Birmingham in the mid-sixties. This chap lost three finger tips in a machine shop accident. Hence he could not play the guitar, for his night job in the pub. Instead of sulking in the corner and crying over his fate, he got some plastic tips for his fingers, down tuned his guitars, changed his strings to banjo strings. In this process , he invented a sound, THE sound of heavy metal. Today every metal guitar player, every band in fact on the face of this planet owes a debt musically to this person. The guy in focus is Tony Iommi and the band was called Black Sabbath. The rest as they say, is legend. Bow down to the riff lord...\m/

Thursday, October 21, 2010

For whom the bell tolls

The church bell tolls
And the spirit re-gathers
Spirit once vanished
left sickened and diseased
With love and life bleached out
By monotony of the regular
and drill of the normal
Numbed by the deafening grind
Of the bourgeoisie.

Cries of help, notes of pain
From the body emanate
Soul less it has been made
A vessel for material pessimism
But links such are stronger
Stronger than they know.
For cries as these
do not fade in the horizon.

For the wind is the bearer.
Boundless messenger to the spirit
Power enough to persuade
To re-unite with its vessel
Re-vitalise its muscles
Into action .
Re-inspire towards greatness.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Inquilab Zindabad

We may have had freedom for more than 60 years now, but in our complacence, we are losing that hard won independence to dogs. A second wave of rebellion. A new era. A new people. And this may be the perfect anthem to carry the sentiment. 

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है
देखना है ज़ोर कितना बाज़ू-ए-क़ातिल में है

(ऐ वतन,) करता नहीं क्यूँ दूसरी कुछ बातचीत,
देखता हूँ मैं जिसे वो चुप तेरी महफ़िल में है
ऐ शहीद-ए-मुल्क-ओ-मिल्लत, मैं तेरे ऊपर निसार,
अब तेरी हिम्मत का चरचा ग़ैर की महफ़िल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

वक़्त आने पर बता देंगे तुझे, ए आसमान,
हम अभी से क्या बताएँ क्या हमारे दिल में है
खेँच कर लाई है सब को क़त्ल होने की उमीद,
आशिकों का आज जमघट कूचा-ए-क़ातिल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

है लिए हथियार दुश्मन ताक में बैठा उधर,
और हम तैयार हैं सीना लिए अपना इधर.
ख़ून से खेलेंगे होली अगर वतन मुश्क़िल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

हाथ, जिन में है जूनून, कटते नही तलवार से,
सर जो उठ जाते हैं वो झुकते नहीं ललकार से.
और भड़केगा जो शोला सा हमारे दिल में है,
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

हम तो घर से ही थे निकले बाँधकर सर पर कफ़न,
जाँ हथेली पर लिए लो बढ चले हैं ये कदम.
ज़िंदगी तो अपनी मॆहमाँ मौत की महफ़िल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

यूँ खड़ा मक़्तल में क़ातिल कह रहा है बार-बार,
क्या तमन्ना-ए-शहादत भी किसी के दिल में है?
दिल में तूफ़ानों की टोली और नसों में इन्कलाब,
होश दुश्मन के उड़ा देंगे हमें रोको न आज.
दूर रह पाए जो हमसे दम कहाँ मंज़िल में है,
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है

वो जिस्म भी क्या जिस्म है जिसमे न हो ख़ून-ए-जुनून
क्या लड़े तूफ़ान से जो कश्ती-ए-साहिल में है
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब हमारे दिल में है
देखना है ज़ोर कितना बाज़ू-ए-क़ातिल में

Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai
Dekhna hai zor kitna baazu-e-qaatil mein hai

Aye watan, Karta nahin kyun doosree kuch baat-cheet
Dekhta hun main jise woh chup teri mehfil mein hai
Aye shaheed-e-mulk-o-millat main tere oopar nisaar
Ab teri himmat ka charcha gair ki mehfil mein hai
Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai

Waqt aanay dey bata denge tujhe aye aasman
Hum abhi se kya batayen kya hamare dil mein hai
Kheench kar layee hai sab ko qatl hone ki ummeed
Aashiqon ka aaj jumghat koocha-e-qaatil mein hai
Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai

Hai liye hathiyaar dushman taak mein baitha udhar
Aur hum taiyyaar hain seena liye apna idhar
Khoon se khelenge holi agar vatan muskhil mein hai
Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai

Haath jin mein ho junoon katt te nahi talvaar se
Sar jo uth jaate hain voh jhukte nahi lalkaar se
Aur bhadkega jo shola-sa humaare dil mein hai
Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai

Hum to ghar se nikle hi the baandhkar sar pe kafan
Jaan hatheli par liye lo barh chale hain ye qadam
Zindagi to apni mehmaan maut ki mehfil mein hai
Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai

Yuun khadaa maqtal mein qaatil kah rahaa hai baar baar'
Kya tamannaa-e-shahaadat bhi kisee ke dil mein hai
Dil mein tuufaanon ki toli aur nason mein inqilaab
Hosh dushman ke udaa denge humein roko na aaj
Duur reh paaye jo humse dam kahaan manzil mein hai
Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai

Wo jism bhi kya jism hai jismein na ho khoon-e-junoon
Toofaanon se kya lade jo kashti-e-saahil mein hai

Chup khade hain aaj saare bhai mere khaamosh hain
Na karo to kuch kaho mazhab mera mushkil mein hai

Ten Commandments for Drummers...

The source of this is Mr. Rahul Gopal, the ex No Idea/The Agenda’s drummer. I think these tips are worth their weight in Mapexes and Sabians.

1. Drumming is not a race. Take your time. Not everyone is the same and what takes someone a month, might take you a year to get.

2. Play for the music. ALWAYS. Chops are secondary to feel and good musical sense.

3. Be punctual – rehearsal, soundcheck and gig. Nobody likes a drummer who shows up late consistently

4. Learn your material inside out before a gig. Also, learn to read music, it helps.

5. Try not to play under the influence of drugs or alcohol. Contrary to popular belief, it does not make you John Bonham  

6. NEVER diss the sound engineer. Learn up a bit about micing techniques, frequencies et al so you can convey better to the sound engineer what you hear in your head with respect to your sound.

7. Wear ear protection. I have hearing loss in one ear thanks to not wearing ear protection.

8. Carry your own sticks, pedals and a spare snare or snare head.

9. Respect the people you work with, however unimportant the gig may seem to you. They just might give you the break that you were looking for. Getting gigs is also about networking well and being amiable.

10. Lastly, be yourself. There can only be one Dave Weckl or Mike Portnoy or Tomas Haake. Influences are good. Don’t get lost trying to be your influences.

Hope you got some sense knocked into your head. Now run off and practise for your gig. Even if you don't have one.

Saturday, October 9, 2010


In the memory of the kids killed in the explosion at Gadchiroli, Nagpur, Maharashtra as a part of a Naxal attack. A dedication to everyone who has been affected by this menace. Rest in Peace.

When the children sat down for nourishment,
Death served by the Reaper, plateful of cries
All when the Goddess assumed her throne
And watched with inanimate eyes.

Bright spit of fire, thunderous volley
Charred human debris flying astray
Smoke turns into the dead black night
The blessing of a bright summer day.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Screaming memories....

For long enough now,
I have seen my face.
On the rusted iron,
the glint from the clouded sun
not enough to close my eyes.

For more nights than I can count
I have woken up in terror.
Fear, anger, paranoia,
All dancing havoc.
Anarchy in my grey cells.

For more moments than I find comfortable,
I drew breath.
at someone else's mercy
heart beating out of my chest
with blood frozen cold.

For more times than I have wanted
I have yearned for closure
to be harassed no more
To be able to sleep
With my dreams left at peace.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Kandisa.....the meaning!

"Kandisa " is a beautiful song by Indian Ocean from their album of the same name. This song is what got me into this band and it still retains the same fresh and wonderful image of me starting out with playing percussion on this song. Somehow Indian Ocean songs age very well. If you have not heard the song, here is it.

Finally i found this blog where i found the complete literal translation of Kandisa. The song/prayer is in Aramaic which is a very old language. The translation is as below.

Kandisa Alahaye Kandisa Esana Aalam Balam Aalam, Amenu Aamen,
kadishat Allaha, kadishat Haylthana, l-'alam 'almin amin.

Holy God, Strong God, I bow to you forever

Sliha Mar Yose, Almaduba Kudisa, Aangen Dhanusa Nehave Dukharana,
Apostle St. Joseph, on your Holy Altar  ---- 

Kandisa Alaha Kandisa Esana Kandisa La Ma Yosa Isaraha Malem 
Kadishat Allaha, Kadishat Haylthana, kadishat la mayutha, ethraham 'layn. 

Holy God, holy strong, Holy, do not die, have mercy on me.

 I knew there were references to Jesus and his apostles in this song, but could not understand any part of the song. Enjoy!

Friday, September 17, 2010

The Beckoning

Wait, wait a moment.
Don't submit to mortal sleep,
not just yet.
Something is afoot.

Melodious notes
in infallible subsequence.
Sky angry and red
ready to throw bolts at the ground.
Upheaval to end the torment.

Feel the hair stand up on ends
tickle of ice run down your spine.
Oh don't give in just yet
something is afoot.

A waft of warm breeze,
in the chill of the night.
A soft voice, calling out
from behind the filament bright.

Do they not beckon you?
Urge enough to get up.
Start walking towards the unknown
Oh don't just end your day as yet.
Something is afoot

Monday, September 13, 2010

Bon Voyage.....

Departures. 2 of them. Never completely painless or harmless. Nevertheless, not without reason.

Valentino Rossi ......

Multi MotoGp champion. Leaves Yamaha after 7 years, heading to the Ducati, to form the Italian dream team. He joined, when he was "disrespected" by Honda, the factory to beat back then. He took the Yamaha M1, a pig of a bike back then and turned it into a winner. Leaving Honda in the dust. Honda still regrets letting him go.

Mike Portnoy .........

Prodigial drummer. Face and percussive talent of the great prog rock band, Dream Theater. Leaves DT after 25 years with the band, having co-founded it with John Petrucci and John Myung. Entered the drummers Hall of Fame at the age of 37, recipient of countless awards and unarguably one of the best drummers in the world. Leaves DT because he feels the band is burning him out and feels better playing with side projects like Hail and Avenged Sevenfold.

Both legends in their own right. Both colourful personalities. Both departing when they are at the top of their game. Both relish challenges. Both infinitely passionate about what they do. Nothing less than 100% works for them. Both know where their heart is.

For me, these guys are heroes. And this sense, of following your heart and giving it all, I will try to inculcate in myself. Till then, here is wishing them the best of luck.......more records waiting for you guys!

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Some good lyrics....good songs too!

A couple of songs, the lyrics of which are very relevant to whats going on with me. My personal mental being aside, two amazing songs with great words. \m/

"Schism" by Tool

I know the pieces fit 'cause I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering. Fundamental differing.
Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion
Disintegrating as it goes testing our communication
The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us
We cannot seem to reach an end crippling our communication.

I know the pieces fit 'cause I watched them tumble down
No fault, none to blame it doesn't mean I don't desire to
Point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over.
To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communication

The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it.
Finding beauty in the dissonance.

There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting
I've done the math enough to know the dangers of our second
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our

Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion
Between supposed lovers.
I know the pieces fit.

"Tribes of Babel" by Motherjane

We’ve learnt to ignore oceans
Wake up to changing times
To rediscover with innocence
All boundaries are thin lines

Born under our different flags
Wrapped up in belief systems
Pain body, Pride, Psychic bags
Good, Bad, We’re all of them

The tribes of Babel, the angels sent on
With the 1stand 5thnote in every song
To paint graffiti without walls, in the air
Stairways to heaven, for the truly aware

To raise our sights and tear walls down
To tempt us to look within & all around
Facing strangers to find ourselves
Singing out loud, in someone else

We’re the tribes of Babel, the angels sent on
With the 1st& 5thnote, the soul of a song
To paint graffiti without walls, in the air
To celebrate all Earth while we’re still here

Sunday, September 5, 2010

St. Anger

Quick steps
help not today,
to vent the fury
bursting through the veins.

A few creases on the skin
are all that betray.
The anger contained
beneath the skin.

Draining my energy
to keep the surface calm;
tears rising quick
glistening, not flowing.

Today, i will contain
suppress, resist
what will inevitably come
pray, it is not
what i do not want it to be
a Demon.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Still Life....

Fascinated by the dynamism of inanimate objects and hence the snaps. No particular order or theme or preference. Please do suggest your interpretations and titles.

Thursday, July 15, 2010


Genocide (defn) : ...any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such:
(a) Killing members of the group;
(b) Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;
(c) Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;
(d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group;
(e) Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.

– Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, Article II

Burned, charred to black as coal
entire people, a culture little different
what for was never questioned?
what for, was never answered.
Source of hate, i have never seen
hatred we hold for our kin
colour of skin, colour of flag
colour of things so myriad
Colour of my blood and yours is same
the same deep red
then why scar your skin with my sword
or my land with your pen
Generations lost in entire madness
subject to whim and vengeance
for material rewards ever so transient
quickly washed away by the blood that was spilled
made nauseous by the putrid stench

Question the reason of my flawed existence
if i deny that right to my neighbour
Anger in the futility and the helplessness
while pictures recount the horror and Holocaust
Account for all the hatred
Source of all hatred is Us
Slay the demon inside
and then we think alike
Blood warm pusling through the veins
spent in labour of love and life
is more valuable than
blood spilled in the name of skin, land and religious strife.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Zen in oBzen....

*Zen is a school of Mahāyāna Buddhism. The Japanese word Zen is derived from the Chinese word Chán, which in turn is derived from the Sanskrit word dhyāna, which means "meditation"

*oBzen is an album by heavy metal band Meshuggah.

For relevance, please read this post by Shrikant Narayanan

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Shame! India sold its dead cheap......

Around 22,000 dead. More than 1,20,000 injured. Rs 1 lakh for each body. Rs 25,000 for every poisoned lung and damaged heart and blinded eyes. 26 years of long wait. And just 2 years in jail for the men who committed the worst crime against the people of this country. And this mockery of justice after such a long wait. Twenty six years after 40 tonnes of lethal gas seeped into the lungs of Bhopal, families of some 17,000 men, women and children are still waiting for the so-called compensation. Thousands more are still waiting to be accepted as victims. People of Bhopal are still drinking toxic water poisoned by Union Carbide in December 1984. And the main culprit is living life kingsize in a mansion in New York. 

No country sells its people so cheap.
No country sells its poor so cheap.
No country sells its dead so cheap.

Today – on the day of Bhopal disaster judgment -- if there is a failed state in the world, it’s India. It’s not Iraq. It’s not Somalia. It’s not Sudan. It’s India.

India – its government, judiciary and corporates – accepted the ridiculous amount of $450 million dollars for the people killed and maimed by methyl isocyanate leaked from the Union Carbide factory in the heart of Bhopal three decades ago. In all these years, the poor victims have done everything they could to get justice and compensation. They have cried and died on streets, sat hungry and faced police lathis on roads and filed court cases in the hope that one day they will get justice.

Today, they were denied justice. Today, they were told that they should be happy with the peanuts thrown at them by Union Carbide. Today, India proved once again that it doesn’t care for its poor. Today, it was proved all over again that those who do politics in the name of poor in this country, always rule for the rich.

What justification does CBI have for not being able to produce Warren Anderson in court. The chairman of UC at the time of the gas attack (it was not an accident, the gas leak was caused because of cost-cutting steps taken by him) on the people of Bhopal, Anderson was arrested and later released on bail. He ran off to US in 1986 and we have not been able to find him or ask the US to extradite Anderson to India. Why? The government says it doesn’t know where Anderson is. What a lie. What a shame.

Last year, on a balmy July day, a bunch of victims danced on the streets after hearing news that the Chief Judicial Magistrate of Bhopal had ordered the CBI to arrest Anderson and produce him before the court without delay. The court also asked the CBI to explain what steps it had taken since 2002 to enforce the warrant and extradition of Anderson, who was declared an absconder in 1992. Though the CBI and US government failed to track Anderson, supporters of Bhopal victims traced him to the elite New York neighbourhood of the Hamptons. In 2003, Greenpeace activists paid Anderson a visit at his home and handed him an arrest warrant.

Today’s ridiculous judgment in Bhopal didn’t say anything on Anderson as he is a “proclaimed offender”. This status suits him fine because he doesn’t have to bother about coming to India and answer some very crucial questions:

*Why did Union Carbide not apply the same safety standards at its plant in India as it operated at a sister plant in West Virginia, US?

*On the night of the disaster, why did the six safety measures designed to prevent a gas leak fail to function?

*Why was the safety siren, intended to alert the people living close to the factory, turned off?

The victims have always alleged that Bhopal happened because of negligence by the Union Carbide and that was caused by cost-cutting measures taken by Anderson. Is it because of this reason that Anderson has been 'hiding' in the US?

A criminal has a reason to hide, but what reason does our government have to let a mass murderer like Anderson go scot-free. Is it because he is an American? Can an American come to India kill people in this country and run away with no consequences? That seems to be the case. We are still struggling to get a chance to question David Headley Coleman, an American citizen responsible for the worst terror attack on an Indian city in 2008. Will we succeed in getting Headley extradited to India? No way. Never.

Today, India proved that it doesn’t really care for its people, particularly if they have been slaughtered by powerful people from the most powerful nation in the world. Instead of taking on America and fighting for justice for its poor, India is more than happy to sell its dead cheap.

Rs 1 lakh for every body. Rs 25,000 for every blinded eye. This is the cost of poor life in a failed state.

==>Courtesy : Shobhan Saxena (Times Of India)

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

"Justice has been done"

I could not, but shake my head in disbelief when the verdict for the Bhopal Gas Tragedy was announced. 8 convicts, each handed a 2-3 year imprisonment and also immediately given bail. This paltry leisure of a punishment for the crime of genocide! A mass murder of 15,000 (....an official figure, significantly lower than the actual number of deaths...) innocent civilians over a period of years because of the Methyl Iso-Cyanate that leaked from the Union Carbide factory. A judgement that was delivered 23 years too late! I have been swearing ever since I read the judgement and what made me livid was the statement by Magistrate Mohan Tiwari , "Surely justice has been done". No sir, it really and surely hasn't been done!

A certain Metallica lyric will make my thoughts extremely clear in the aftermath. Sarcasm, bitterness, anger and violence in perfect chaotic harmony. From their legendary album released in 1988 of the same name, it does reflect that things have not changed one bit.

...And Justice For All

Halls of Justice Painted Green
Money Talking
Power Wolves Beset Your Door
Hear Them Stalking
Soon You'll Please Their Appetite
They Devour
Hammer of Justice Crushes You

The Ultimate in Vanity
Exploiting Their Supremacy
I Can't Believe the Things You Say
I Can't Believe
I Can't Believe the Price You Pay
Nothing Can Save You

Justice Is Lost
Justice Is Raped
Justice Is Gone
Pulling Your Strings
Justice Is Done
Seeking No Truth
Winning Is All
Find it So Grim
So True
So Real

Apathy Their Stepping Stone
So Unfeeling
Hidden Deep Animosity
So Deceiving
Through Your Eyes Their Light Burns
Hoping to Find
Inquisition Sinking You
With Prying Minds

The Ultimate in Vanity
Exploiting Their Supremacy
I Can't Believe the Things You Say
I Can't Believe
I Can't Believe the Price You Pay
Nothing Can Save You

Justice Is Lost
Justice Is Raped
Justice Is Gone
Pulling Your Strings
Justice Is Done
Seeking No Truth
Winning Is All
Find it So Grim
So True
So Real

Lady Justice Has Been Raped
Truth Assassin
Rolls of Red Tape Seal Your Lips
Now You're Done in
Their Money Tips Her Scales Again
Make Your Deal
Just What Is Truth? I Cannot Tell
Cannot Feel

The Ultimate in Vanity
Exploiting Their Supremacy
I Can't Believe the Things You Say
I Can't Believe
I Can't Believe the Price We Pay
Nothing Can Save Us

Justice Is Lost
Justice Is Raped
Justice Is Gone
Pulling Your Strings
Justice Is Done
Seeking No Truth
Winning Is All
Find it So Grim
So True
So Real
Seeking No Truth
Winning Is All
Find it So Grim
So True
So Real

P.S.: Fuck you Union Carbide, fuck you Warren Anderson, fuck you Rajiv Gandhi, fuck you Magistrate Mohan P Tiwari, fuck you Keshub Mahindra....may you fucking burn in hell!

Monday, May 31, 2010

The First Rain......

Welcome, O winds from the South
carrying the moist essence of life

you have travelled long miles
to the parch miseries of the great land

you send cool winds, to signal
your coming, auspicious arrival

the breeze carries your message
to longing eyes, to parched throats

their eyes are fixed on the horizon
for the winged bearer of the confirmation

for when the day does finally arrive
and the leaves stand still in raptured obeisance

O Indra, you shall strike first
Accompanying the thunderous music

Send down your bolts as a curtain raiser
To the dance of new life

One drop, followed by many more
strike the grateful many standing below

where the scent of the mud, enlivens all
Goads them to cross their doorstep into the open

Make a grand entry, O Varuna, Jaldeva
Bring your powers to bear, to bless

Bhoomi, furnaced by the heat, is exalted
with erotic freshness and emanating scent

From the Ganga to the smallest rivulets
Thank for the replenishment, roar with new energy

Leaves and bark, covered with dust and brown
Set free, show their true hue again

Sprout life, tell a story of hope
same hope, which keeps them alive till you come around again, O great showers!

Friday, May 28, 2010

A proper song

Writing around a given topic is not what i am really good at. With me, stuff usually comes more with a flow, a certain mood, a certain frame of mind. This song, had been in the making for almost 10 months. Does not make for good reading, but trust me, a kick-ass riff and machine gun tempo and some nasty vocals would make it a good, hard , fast metal number. (Wish that would happen some time soon.....:|....)

Get drunk on the energy within
on the vials of adrenaline
Be one, go with the flow

Feel the shiver of your hand
Feet unsure on trembling sand
A chill run down your spine

Throat runs dry, hurts bad
troubles up front, no time to be sad
Grab it by the scruff of its neck

The blur vanishes into crystal clear
You know now, there is no place for fear
Charge up and lock horns yeah

Feel the energy in your veins
your muscles hurt, but there ain't no pain
Turbo heart unleashes itself

Sweat trickles down your brow
Skin glistens, vigour does grow
You are ready for more, much more

Addictive,every dose of it
Strength to get up after every hit
Get high
Unravel and fly
Antidote, don't stupefy

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Keep on rocking in the free world...

Somehow this song has managed to stick fast into the audio channels of my cerebellum and shows no signs of abating. The original composition is by Neil Young and is about US soldiers killed in Iraq. Heard this for the first time on Bon Jovis' One Wild Night 1985-2001 compilation. Loved it ever since. And right now its the G3-Denver 2005 jam version that i am big fan of. Great lyrics, cracking opening riff  and good tempo...all the ingredients of a good song.

Keep on Rockin' in the free world.


(piece of paper with the lyrics penned by neil young himself....click for a larger image)

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Death, The Leveller

A poem from the childhood days, more relevant today, especially after the Kasab judgement was delivered.

Death the Leveller

THE glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against Fate;
Death lays his icy hand on kings:
Sceptre and Crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill:
But their strong nerves at last must yield;
They tame but one another still:
Early or late
They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuring breath
When they, pale captives, creep to death.

The garlands wither on your brow,
Then boast no more your mighty deeds!
Upon Death's purple altar now
See where the victor-victim bleeds.
Your heads must come
To the cold tomb:
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.

By James Shirley

Streaking across....

Tired of staring at screens
i walk out for a breathe
and then i see a shooting star.

In the insomnia and the haggles
hitting violently on my mental being
I see a shooting star.

When the neon sign far off
flicker peacefully into the night
I see a shooting star.

In the stillness of the street below
and the meandering whispers of the wind
I see a shooting star.

Amidst the whirring of fans
and the silence of sleep
I see a shooting star.

Watching the lone worker go home
under the watchful eye of the moon
I see a shooting star.

Trying to swim through the tide of thoughts
when all i want to do is rest on the ocean floors 
One last look before i take the plunge
And I see a shooting star.