Thursday, February 24, 2005

Newborn Awakening

I think I figured out a fabulous justification for my stage/limelight phobia. My need to be as away from being the cynosure as possible is disconcerting sometimes.
Its much like what would happen if a freed prisoner were to be forced out of the cave and out into the reality of the world. Plato once explained:

"When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities... He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and other objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven....Last of he will be able to see the sun..."

Deep within, there is a force that tells me I'm just copping out of everything all the while attempting to appear confidant. For one fleeting moment, I identify with Will (Good Will Hunting). Coming to think of it, so does more than half of whole humankind.

Springboard to the Matrix is one of the most deeply insightful sites I've been to.

Saturday, February 19, 2005

The worst part about a long vacation is how you drift into those painfully jobless stretches of time...with absolutely everything around seeming plain boring.

On one such eddie in space-time continuum, you happen to stumble on an ancient, typically ho-hum trigonometry S L Loney book. Being jobless, you actually leaf through the pages...conveniently forgetting how you had once branded Loney 'a benightedly boring organic life form whose name rightfully enough almost suggested the kind of Loon he was'!

At this point in time, you also know you've reached the out-and-out culminating point of being bugged by joblessness. You decide to listen to Metallica, put on Winamp, go to the 'jump-to-file' dialog and promptly type 'Secant Destroy'........ugh I always hated trigonometry!

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Mayday, mayday...Houston,we have a negative on the sex of that bike....
Several conversations over the past couple of days have hammered my cognitive synapses about being straight....which have hence triggered the decision to get Blackmore a sex-change operation. One of the conversations instrumental was:

Me: He's just an amazing blend of being smooth as silk and raw as an animal the feel!

A: duuuuude...eeeeiw!

On hindsight....eeeeeiw!

Kalchalvi, Jagadamba and Veerbhadreswari were potential contenders...but Bitch seemed to have an edge. Pardon my naive'te here...and be kind enough to lend advice on the names!

Saturday, February 12, 2005

He's here!

Ladies,gents and other furry Blackmore, the vehicle of my inexpressible happiness (literally)! I was gonna name him "Tan-tan-ta tan-tan-tana" after Smoke on the water's opening riff...but Dad said it'd be too long.....I came up with the next best name,Blackmore! And what's More..he's Black...;)

With a burning heart
Master of the streets
Bullet proof and bound for glory
Cities at my feet
I'm turning on the power
Running wild and free

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Stolen from random LJ...

Saturday, February 05, 2005

Ode-type Verbiage

Its friday evening. I'm home alone, a cup of hot coffee in hand, poring over a crossword puzzle. I've got Collective Soul, Portishead, Ustad Vilayat Khan and Dizzy Gillespie queued up to play in the know it can seldom get more soulful that this.

I lie back on the couch, thinking about 4-across...looking out of the window as I do that. I stare up at the skies, at the fine raindrops falling through the twilight sun.

There is something about this scene that makes you want to freeze time and at the same time reflect, go down memory lane and revel a bit in nostalgia. Its nature's way of prodding you when you're perched at the edge of boredom.

Summer of 2000...just out of school and a long time before dawn's highway of college bleeds again, lot of time to kill.
That juncture in life where Blyton, Nat Geo and gully cricket is still the hypogeek's idea of fun.
Efforts of making conversation about music seemed freakishly amateur. But amidst the need to drown in mysticated hemlock because of such 'musical' shortcomings, there lay a silver lining.
Albeit condescendingly, a copy of Kill 'em All lands in my tape-recorder...courtesy a pal who's just far beyond cool.
Joblessness and more importantly the burning crave for revolution allowed the eleven otherworldy songs on the album play themselves out. It'd begun, the truest and most impressive of all my existential stances in life thus far....rock,stone,metal and suchlikes!

Realising a whole new definition to music in this manner is powerful. It lends you a lot of strength to swim out of the sea of cheese that was the hindi film song scene of the 90s. On hindsight, I'm glad about how I remained conveniently marooned in not having listened to much music before rock. It accentuated the effect that Hit The Lights had on me (its the first song on the album) and hence almost all subsequent songs of related genre.
It felt nice to be doing something without the need to belong, without having to do something to prove you're cool and stuff. Its unarguably an attribute to the innocence of early youth.
Music is known to have that engulfing effect, metal more so. From the outset, metal enjoyed my unabashed bias and rightly so. The grungy sound of the guitars, the screeching vocals, the ultraspeed drumming were earliest influencing factors. The lyrical content which started off as trivial and plain amusing grew to tremendous levels of significance.
With time, life revealed the odd cloud of taint, which naturally engendered considerable angst not so deep within.
With the innocence fading away, the discern in rock lyrics only increased and so did the typically adolescent need to identify with anything rebellious!
In retrospect, its a case of coming of age as a listener....with the mellowing down process setting in. But rock's sure as hell had its effects. Be it drastic attitudinal changes such as replacing "my coffee's gettin cold" with "my beer's getting warm", wearing a lot more black than ever before or generally doing things that suggest distinct cultural shift!
I recalled how I was so hooked onto the whole Satanist wing of rock that I manually backamasked Stairway to Heaven to check whether it really had subliminal messages!
Among the few occasions that I wanted to plunge into the 'making music' area, one stands out.
The time that I went to a vocals audition for a band called Straylight Faith (name copyrighted) and then came to know they were a couple of overly intimate ladies who mainly covered happy Beatles tunes came to mind. aah, my brush with the Lesbian Benthamist Choir, I recall!
Its been a fabulous five years, which has given me a zillion rock shows to go to (Bangalore raawwks!), which has given me a fabulous outlet to rage and pain and most importantly given me a rationalised me-n-tal attitude...but its time to explore newer realms of music and thereby broaden my musical perspectives.
Que sera sera, I hope to remain hooked onto rock for all of my lifetime!

Im a rocker!
Do as I feel as I say!
Im a rocker!
And no one can take that away!
- Judas priest

Its now raining real hard, and I finally get 4-across...'Euthanasia'.

Tuesday, February 01, 2005


So I come home...heaving a huge sigh of well-earned relief after a seemingly perpetual ordeal called exam-time.
I turn on the comp, amp some Black Sabbath and click on the Fifa 2002 icon...and phut...the screen turns yellow...yeah, its just all yellow. Its almost as if someone isn't too thrilled about my idea of relaxation.
Anyway, I look around to make sure I haven't suddenly contracted Jaundice (which is a fairly likely post-exam syndrome). No, so its just the bleedin' monitor. Mystic consipracy theory prevails again!
I wouldn't have cribbed about this so much if by 6 p.m, I'd not gotten so sick of all the yellowness that I decided to give Simpsons a miss on Star World (shudder).
Coming to think of it, this is deceptively tragic. Today saw a subconscious 'no' to Simpsons. What if tomorrow I get up hating Coldplay??
phew, that calls for some cold mango juice......oh dammitbitch !
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