Nice band

Last night caught “Gates OF Salt”(???), a novice band playing at a watering hole in CP. The guy on the electric guitar was nice, the guy on the drums was ok, the guy on bass was awesome and the guy on vocals sucked. They did covers only and had no originals. All in all an ok band but all they need is a nice vocalist, a little more devotion and the dire need to understand the importance of a good sound check. Although I am not into house and hip-hop but still this song by Flipsyde caught my attention. The song is about a guy who has apparently aborted his baby girl and now dedicates this song to the would have been angel. Here are the lyrics:

Happy Birthday...so make a wish Verse 1: Please accept my apologies, wonder what would have been Would you've been a little angel or an angel of sin? Tom-boy running around, hanging with all the guys. Or a little tough boy with beautiful brown eyes? I payed for the murder before they determined the sex Choosing our life over your life meant your death And you never got a chance to even open your eyes Sometimes I wonder as a fetus if you faught for your life? Would you have been a little genius in love with math? Would you have played in your schoolclothes and made me mad? Would you have been a little rapper like your papa da Piper? Would you have made me quit smokin' by finding one of my lighters? I wonder about your skintone and shape of your nose? And the way you would have laughed and talked fast or slow? Think about it every year, so I picked up a pen Happy birthday, love you whoever you woulda been Happy birthday... Chorus: All I thought was a dream (make a wish) Was as real as it seemed (happy birthday) All I thought was a dream (make a wish) Was as real as it seemed I made a mistake! Verse 2: I've got a millon excuses to why you died Bet the people got their own reasons for homicide Who's to say it woulda worked, and who's to say it wouldn't have? I was young and strugglin' but old enough to be your dad The fear of being a father has never disappeared Pondering frequently while I'm zippin' on my beer My vision of a family was artificial and fake So when it came time to create I made a mistake Now you've got a little brother maybe he's really you? Maybe you really forgave us knowin' we was confused? Maybe everytime that he smiles it's you proudly knowin' that your father's doin' the right thing now? I never tell a woman what to do with her body But if she don't love children then we can't party Think about it every year, so I picked up a pen Happy birthday, love you whoever you woulda been Happy birthday... And from the heavens to the womb to the heavens again From the endin' to the endin', never got to begin Maybe one day we could meet face to face? In a place without time and space Happy birthday...



The band comprises of Piper on vocals, Steve Knight on vocals and acoustic guitar, Dave Lopez on electric and acoustic guitar and D-Sharp as their DJ. The guys have a very bohemian sound and offer you an eclectic mix of Hip-Hop and rock. The acoustic part handled by Steve Knight is soul stirring. After listening to Happy Birthday, I googled on the guys and found out what I had guessed. Every band has a common thread that links all its members, except music of course. Piper, Steve and Dave are passionate about the new world politics and social issues. Steve is the resilient force in the band. The guy started dabbling with spirituality, moved on to serve in US Coast Guard and then plunged full throttle into a chemical trip (and i thought one does drugs, army and then spirituality!!) from which he has come clean and more focussed . The band may not be here to radically alter the music-scape but they surely will pen down lyrics that have a message and Happy Birthday is a nice start. I am quite gung ho about the guys. May God bless the sane mortals.

Frustrated

The view from the large glass window in the restaurant was like sitting in the middle of a busy subway and yet not being there. The chill of the air conditioner on this Sunday afternoon made him order for rum, for which he had developed a subdued taste off late. It must have had been quite a while since he was sitting there, with the rush hour of maddening thoughts crashing into each other like those small sperms we used to watch on those medical documentaries on the discovery channel. During this state of trance he had lost the rhythm of exhaling the smoke from his Don Diego and only after the guy waiting his table came forward to strike a conversation with this lone drinker that he broke free from the state of careless dizziness. He never did like anyone breaking his stupor. He quietly and quickly scurried off the waiter after answering him in staccati monosyllables. Being a veritable recluse, the very notion of being involved in a social activity repulsed him to no extent. After scanning the surroundings he usually found it very difficult to rest his eyes, every corner being full of ostentatious display of revelry. After much straining of his eyes he finally immersed himself in the melancholy painted by George Elliot from yore. Just as he was beginning to slip into the shoes of Silas Marner, the protagonist, the cadence of his thoughts was rippled by the intrusion of a portly guy in his early thirties who was asking him if he would be kind enough to let him share his table as the restaurant was almost full. Being stabbed by the dagger of courtesy he nodded a dead approval. After settling himself down with a lot of screeching and fumbling and almost managing to spill his drink, Mr. Intruder finally started what he least wanted, a conversation. Being the bower of this sapling he had no other choice but to let the intruder ransack his loneliness. To make matters worse Mr. Intruder was soon accompanied by his girl. What followed afterwards was a pure cacophony. It appeared that the two of them were supposed to be on one of their "pre-date" sessions wherein the whole conversation revolves around the food you eat, the sitcoms you watch, the music you listen, do you smoke, how often do you drink etcetera. After sustaining the first round of assault the couple started with the more intimate stuff without turning down the volume. What thus began was a round of “what do you like in me?” and “I didn’t like it when you were speaking to that guy in office!” Not able to take it anymore he got up, asked for his check and departed. All that he wanted was to have his drink in peace, was it too much to ask for?

May you always smile kid.

I always associate places that I come across with a set of emotions. While traveling to work in the dingy Public Transport System I get a chance to view this city of mine from a vantage point. Towards the end of the journey as I reach Connaught Place, I am mostly looking out of the window, with a stolid gaze scanning the horizon . A couple of days back as soon as the driver pulled up on a red light, a board caught my attention. On it was written “ Arya Orphanage”. I had never paid attention to this signpost and it was just besides the road. Located in the close proximity of Barakhamba Road area, the sight of this dilapidated architecture sure does bring a wry smile on your face. I mean just besides the corporate bustle and in the neighborhood of posh headquarters of various embassies was this orphanage. The orphanage is secluded from the outside world by a 7 feet boundary. Traveling by bus, I could still peek inside those walls. I saw a grand entry in old English style with two huge pillars supporting an overhead shed. There was a small verandah and a hemispherical patch of green grass in the courtyard. I could as well look inside a hall, which seemed to be a dormitory. The light was yellow, because of electric bulbs I guess. I for one do not like yellow light. There were two kids in their teens, whom I could see from where i was, who were arranging some furniture inside the dormitory. I could not help but feel for these kids. I mean look at the irony of it all, These kids have a Notting Hill address to call their home but there is no way they can relate to the materialistic bustle around them. Later I surfed on the net and was relieved that the orphanage was well supported by APEX Foundation. But still I have made a resolution to go and spend some time with these kids. I will take my guitar and a box of chocolates and a couple of fluorescent electric tubes and will spend at least one full Sunday afternoon with these kids.

Enough with the killings and the bombings

I do not believe in idol worship. And I do have a solid reason to back it up. What is it that the idols depict? GOD What is it that GOD depicts? Goodness Goodness in what? Deeds So basically GOD depicts good deeds. Now all the Gods portrayed in different forms all over the world depict goodness in deeds. Pages after pages of religious literature can be succinctly summed up as good deeds (read Karma). Additionally all the religious epics and sagas have a recurring theme of goodness in actions, sacrifice for a good cause etc. All the religious congregations and chantings stress upon the fact that man should be clean in his actions and should flush himself out of the toxins of greed, lust, lies, cheap talk and other dirt like this. So I say, all the religions, all the religious books, all the idols and all the chapels, all just mean one plain simple thing. Be good in your actions. So why do we have a zillion idols, another zillion books, a trillion stories about so many different religions. Why do we have such a huge segregation of something, which even though divided, colored or said in a different tongue would still mean the same thing. The irony is this that all these blind followers keep on killing others and justify their actions behind the Vail of religion! How can we be so naïve? And I guess the issue of terrorism, which seems like a cul-de-sac to our thinking tanks in the government, stems from this misconception only. Ideally there should be no religion. All we need is a sense of humanity and love for one and all. I say, the only religion in this whole wide world is not to break someone’s heart. Lets be fanatics of this ideology.

Unknown I am to you.

Unfelt was the arrival
Unspoken were the words
Unshaken was that stupor
Uncaressed was the heart
Untouched were the dreams
Uncoiled were the thoughts
Untrue was the realization
Undelivered were the emotions
Unwelcome was the intrusion
Unfazed was the valor
Undisputed was the temerity
Unburnt were the chances
Unfit was the proposition
Unfolded were those moments
Unanswered were the fears
Unfair were the winds
Ungual scars of the moment shall he bear
Unread was the prose
Unclear was the ending
Unsolved was the riddle
Unknown I am to you

Angst unplugged

People who talk loud piss me off. And I am surrounded with a bunch of them. They talk as if they are in a bloody war zone. Holy God! if only I had a remote control with a mute button so that I could adjust the audio and visual effects of the world around me. Just imagine if you could mute someone, If you could increase the brightness and contrast of the mundane life, If you could fast forward a stupid situation, If you could pause that beautiful moment and just imagine if you could just switch the whole damn thing off, all at your own royal discretion. If you could just take a breather from all this so that you could get your act together and come back on the stage afresh and all set to take more shit. The only thing dear to me is my peace and I mean both literally and semantically. It really soothes me to sit in a quiet place with no flutter to clutter your mind. I am not into meditation and all but I do practice some weird things like, often during traveling to office the bus that I take passes through ghettos and that scene makes me sad. I want that no one should be deprived of the basic amenities of life and the economic system of the government on the whole is the one to be blamed. TO detach myself from the pain that I feel looking at these peoples misery I just close my eyes and think of a serene place like the mountains in Doon where I used to take those solituous walks or the pool side lazing around in the blue waters beneath the blue moon. This helps me transport myself from the current shackles of pain to a tranquil place full of hope and happiness. My colleagues ask me why I don’t talk, why I don’t mingle!, why I don’t socialize? Why my eyes look so drugged out? Well its because ahem, I am sick and I can prove it! I don’t agree with the way most of the people around me are. I can’t understand how can people go on living with the sole purpose of earning more money, buying the best house, getting the sexiest four wheel drive and going in bed with a bimbo. I mean these are the only things that people around me want. This is all they talk. And I think to myself, that’s it, is that it, is that all you want, is this all that you get up for in the morning? I mean there is a whole bunch of this species out there. Let me explain the evolution of this species. Two bodies exchange body fluids and we get a cell which mutates under war like conditions over a period of nine months and finally comes on stage. ACT ONE. Now this species quickly starts observing the environment and starts developing traits. During the initial years the species studies everything which the elder species have deemed as worth studying. Hence the species follows the exact steps that were followed by the previous species so that there is a set pattern. The underlying motive here is to avoid any deviation. After learning the rules of the games the species starts participating in the game. Now what is the game? Simple, just follow the rules. You can’t ask stupid questions and you have to be just like everyone else. SO the species now is exactly the way it has been programmed to be and this completes the cycle. So basically, earning money, and then earning more money and then marrying and then children and then more children and then bigger house and then tax savings and then bigger car and then lavish marriages and then the curtain falls. In between this species also learns the art of “slime, cheating, balls-licking, bribing” and other such cutting edge tools that may help them in playing the game WELL. Now there's one more strange thing about this species, all these cutting edge fine nuances are not taught in the initial stages but are imparted by means of live examples and the younger species are requested to pick it in a very subtle manner. So now the game becomes interesting as we have these fine nuances. So people start using the fine nuances to eliminate the other species and thus achieving more points that is MONEY. Now as I was saying that I am SICK, its because I am mentally retarded, oh I am sorry I can’t use that word as it is politically incorrect (rule of the game laid by senior species), hence as I am mentally challenged, I was unable to learn the game and have become a MISFIT. That’s why I don’t talk, that’s why I don’t mingle because your game fucks me in my head. I am a misfit by choice. And I love being this way.