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!

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
Adrenaline...........Energy...........

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)

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
1596-1666

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.

Clicking away in Kolhapur....

Massacred......

Deep in the forests of Dantewada
tired they slept in their camp
dark cover of the night above their heads
With their sweat, their uniforms damp

Amongst high hill top villages
and enveloping giant trees
Unaware of the incoming swarm
still sleeping with ill ease

Dark shadows they approached
together from all directions
Forming a perimeter around the camp
Looking for any protections

Sentries they could not find any
Oil lamps burning to keep it visible
The dark forms take positions
they lose little trouble

Silence before the storm
is torn apart from blind gunfire
the CRPF men wake up to their death
and take the enemy's full ire

tracers flying right and left
tents growing bullet mark
the soldiers fumble for their guns
and ammunition in the dark

The Naxals descend to the camp
swoop down for the kill
The soldiers fumble their aim
Orders come "Fire at will!"

One by one, the bullets are spent
empty magazines hit the ground
the horror begins to dawn on the greens
it shatters their armor without a sound

Friends and colleagues
dropping dead left and right
Fires lighting up the background
Naxals filling up the sight

last bullets fired
Guns are useless chunks of metal
naxals take no prisoners
for bloody death the troops have to settle

Two survived to tell the tale
To recount stories with horror
The sights of April the 8th
Burned into their memories forever

Master of Puppets - Remastered!

Just read somewhere that Kerrang!  magazine had released a cover of Master of Puppets - the legendary Metallica album. Well, personally, i do not like Kerrang (i liken them to suckers and sell-outs), but this cover album is one good thing they did. There are great bands like Mastodon, Trivium and Chimaira on the bill playing some of the most timeless songs from this masterpiece-of-an-album. 

Well, since i am the biggest Metallica fan out here (no questions asked), i had to listen to this. But i searched high and low and could not find it for free. Now, these albums are not available in any music store for me to go out and buy and they are too expensive to buy online. So, even if Kerrang! wants to sue my ass, they can go ahead. I am posting the links to the site from where you other free filthy downloaders can get it for free. At least i can not afford paying $14.95 for an album. Here are the links :

Master of Puppets - Remastered part 1 

Master of Puppets - Remastered part 2

Take it from me, these cover versions sound amazing!

Journeying with the Queen

Took a better part of at least 12 trips in the legendary Deccan Queen to come up with this one. Have Nitin Mule to thank for providing the inspiration.

Whistling and humming

I reached CST station

For Pune was my destination

and the Deccan QUeen was my ride

 

Reached the Old Ladys' House

And lost myself in a sea

Of hands and legs and eyes

And minds in haste

 

Trying to get onto the moving rakes

To catch the window seat

A respite, if so great, it is

From the raging April heat

 

I gather myself

i musn't be late

The Queen stands ready

On platform number 8

 

Walking rapidly

Through the metal detectors

Invalid standing sentries

Incapable protectors

 

Addling through a cloud

of suspicious eyes

Of armed uniformed men

26/11, they remember the cries

 

past the guns and batons

Along i scurry

Towards coach D4

Seat 8+70

 

Delight O' delights

'Tis a window seat

Alas right next to the sewer

The stench no perfume could beat

 

Oh how i wish the whistle would sound

the sweat trickling down steadily

With fellow passengers climbing in

Book seller,chocolate salesman, all joining the melee

 

The hustle and bustle

rose and rose the din

Till the clock spake 5:10 and the whistle sang

With a jolt, we began, leavig the station behind

 

gaining momentum With every passing second

Past stations and people, all in a blur

Amidst the din of the rail track

All else did sound like a slur

 

With music in my ears

and wind in my hair

haughtily, i eyed the onlookers

Loser, i said, without much care

 

A few moments past

My big tummy did grumble

"Its time to fill me up"

It said in an unheard rumble

 

make beeline for the pantry car

Toast and cutlet and tea

The smell beckoned, i helped myself

Oh, i might have shouted in glee

 

Almost greedily i devoured

To my stomachs fill

Sauntered back, lurching left and right

Trying hard to stay still

 

Occupying my seat again

i gave a burp of joy

What more can a man ask for

Unrepentant,even if i were to die?

 

Reached for the WOdehouse book

Straight to page 25

Jeeves and Bertie Woosterare a delight

Into the story i dive

 

Word by word, page by page

the plot unravels

Through townships and farm lands

The Queen, with Godspeed, travels

 

Lulled into a doze,

i Dont even know when

Woke with start, but only for a while

Karjat came and as quickly by it went

 

Loped the Queen through the meadows

past the traffic at the intersections

Ascending swiftly through the meters

Towards Lonavla station

 

We slowed down on Monkey hill

My eyes did spring open

to the wonderful sight and hues,

Red and orange, from the setting sun

 

The small villages down in the valley

Tunnels and ravines, all came

Carving out a memory

In many an unforgettable frame

 

For only some time

Was the train silent

half the passengers enjoying the sight

The others slept with heads bent

 

At 622 meters

The companion locomotives bid adieu

Night was descending

and bystanders were few

 

Fell back into my dreams

Snored through rest of the way

Waking with a frown and slight dismay

When somebody said

"Pune station aalay!"

 

 

 

 

Affairs of the State?

A take on the Tharoor Modi scandal. Had fun writing it.

Twitter,
We all use twitter
Minister Of E.A.,
Tweets like a critter
Oh, he creates a lot of litter.
Boy, he loves his Twitter.

Cricket,
We all play cricket
The Commissioner in Charge
Charges a fortune a ticket
Short game, dancing flowers, no thicket
Oh, he loves the lucre in his cricket

Who let the rabbit out of the hat
Oh, nobody wants to be called a twat
When they do go loggerheads, into a duel,
Mediatic rascals will happily use that as fuel

Oh the fools they looked
And the stories that were cooked
The audience had a ball of a time
Hurling at other and licking clean their own slime

Alas, the Minister got the boot
Income Tax took the Conveners loot
And the country smiled itself red,
with embarassment.