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.  

Hope

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/

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.

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.

Disturbed......

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.

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.