Let Me Entertain You...

I’ll be honest.
Being an above average, so called ‘awesome’ singer surely gives me a head start on various things. Whether it involves scoring brownie points with people, making friends, or belonging to one of the ‘high on pedestal’ deliberately modest celebrity stature, it surely gives me an edge.
People know you, they remember you even after you’re long gone. Perhaps your face will be a blur, but the voice strikes the rest of the blurred faces like a samurai sword.
Music is one of my passions, my escape. But this weapon is certainly not a weapon of choice for me. It’s a double edged weapon, which will blow up in your face and flash to your kindred soul, the harsh reality of the flipside of standing out in the artistic or cultural arena.
To elucidate the frustrated babble, let me give you a few examples, of the nerve they possess, to shoot me in the arm, knowingly or otherwise:

“Hey you sing so well, I’m sure you sang you’re way through the FMS interview didn’t you?”

“Hey, sing something man, I’m getting bored”

“Wow, you sing really well, now we have someone to entertain us at all times!”

“Oh yeah… that girl? She sings really well… (never mind the quality of work she can do)

And the list goes on…

To those who think I’m blowing my own trumpet, may please stop reading this, as it may seem bullshit to you, and I would not want you to be a reader here.
The truth is, I don’t need to do it.
But, the pain point is, that my image is that of a Singer. An all time available entertainer, who will sing for you, anytime you want.
I share this feeling with another friend of mine, who btw is an ace guitar player. I empathize with him when both of us, invite company for that short period of time when we’re being ‘in your face’ artists.
How about a little respect for our other talents?
Perhaps, the artists have to awaken the rebel inside them, to sometimes prove a point in a different field altogether.
Imagine this. If you were a talented writer, or a dancer, or a successful coder, would you appreciate a request (that seems more like a demand) of an instantaneous display of your domain? No.
So I’ll be honest.
Open up your mind, and ears for that matter, coz I’ve got a voice to kill for, but I also know how to use it right. Does it sound like music to you ears? Look beyond it. You might find something else worth appreciating too.

Lovely Nonsense

I need love, not some sentimental prison,
I need god, not a political church.
I need love…

Love – the overwhelming, over the top, overcoming phenomenon; that happens to be a part of everyone. And I mean everyone, from the terrorist to the schizophrenic to the neurotic, psychotic serial killer. Wonder why almost all of the songs we hear, are about love, the loss of love, new found love, juvenile, crazy, obsessive, heartbreaking love.
I used to think it’s a highly overrated concept. I still do sometimes. Who defines love and the protocol involved? What are the repercussions of being in love? What kind of personality type are you and the one you’re in love with? Does all of this matter? Or, can you take the liberty to fall for anything/anyone, at your own sweet risk. Or can you even take this decision? Love happens for some, sometimes late for the others and over and over for some few – that according to me doesn’t qualify as love. I’m not saying you love only once, but I’ll say it’s like a pair of diamond earrings. You can lose it once, and even think about buying new ones, but you can’t do it so often if they’re real blings.
The question is how do you know it’s the real bling? The answer is, you won’t. You won’t know unless you’re in it, which is a fairly risky thing to do. Worth a shot?? Hmmm maybe not. Maybe I’m not the right person to write this. Maybe you can chose to ignore my views, but I’ll tell you this much

Love is perceivably vast,
With a blind eye to race, creed, sex and cast,
The book says it ought to be free,
From it, escapists like to spree,
Perhaps starts and ends fast,
But it feels fucking good while it lasts.

Try it, and if it fails, brother,
Don’t expect me to cry, for thee…

Frustrated.

The week flies by, yet again. Like a trailblaze, it shoots and leaves behind nothing but a smokey line... as blurred as the cognitive strategy of george bush. Startled as i am, able to catch nothin but a whiff off the smoke, it hits me that i'vge managed to miss it again. I have realized again, that i have very conviniently let go of the madness arising out of chasing time. Or shall i question myself once more abotu my priotities? As i sit here, hanging my head in shame and disgust, reminiscing what i have lost for the prioroties. Imagine being reprimanded for having a priority, leaves me with a cynical expectation of what this day has for me in its little blue purse. Perhaps a fair judgement, perhaps a pity call. Perhaps im giving up...capitulating to my fears. Perhaps I want to be a rebel, and fight it out. But the question is, how do i do that? HOw do i manage to catch a wink at this point, forget forty. How do i get out of this disillusioned state, that i find myself to be stuck in? If i could just close my eyes without having to fear anythign or anybody. 'May i' or 'Can i' - thats the difference. Why mess with the lord of sleep - Hypnos? For You??!! TO do you work, and to satisfy to your ego. As i sit here coping with the Blaze of Disgust, I watch her sleeping through this class. She dozes.. she has, and she always will..

Holi hai!...

Green, Blue, Yellow, Magenta.. sometime Silver and Black. The colours of Holi, or simply a reason to play the fool. I have no interest in getting myself covered from head (and i mean every root of my hair) to toe(pink/green cuticles). Its silly, childish, impractical and dangerous. Colours of Holi, are nothing but chemicals with a sprinkle of pink. Holi - sometimes just a reason to get drunk on Bhang and start a fight and hence, use all the word from your hindi (read abusive) vocabulary. Traditionally, it used to be just the basic colours, but since eveyrthing else gets hit by technology, let us not leave the festivals out! Water pistols, and oh! the ever so favourite water balloons. When we were kids, days before Holi, we used to take a bucket full of water balloons up on the roof, and hit anybody and eveyrbody who passed by..mostly missing them of course. Now, it just seems too much of an onus. Am i growing old? Or am i just growing up. Nevertheless, I can always enjoy the usual holiday I get on Holi. The sweets have a perfect excuse to oblige me, and i can watch others go silyl on colours. But what i realized the most today, is that, it will only be in a country like India, wherein on Holi, You probably couldnt recognize anyone because of the pallete of messy colours their faces have become; but you can also use your imagination and wonder how funny it would look if it were some other day, and somebody was talking to you about 'Democracy' or 'Ecological balance' with a painted face. So there, Holi can atleast give me a reason to Laugh..

The Wait..

It all starts a day before the announcement of the result. All i can think about is, whether i will make it or not. What have i got to lose, and what all to gain. Its almost like a dark cloud, hanging over your head, making your heart so heavy, that you feel physically tired.. especially when you know that now things are not in your hands, and you have already done all that you possible could..(good,medium or bad). Feeling hot and cold at the same time. The weathers so beautiful outside, that you wish you did'nt have this lump in your gut everytime you thought about the result. Its raining. Im sitting in class.. trying so hard not to fall asleep. Nodding my head at the professor, who is talking utter crap about ERP, and i don't understand a thing. And my mind is occupied with the aftermath of the future. My first and last call of the season(till now), and absolutely no clue. 4 hours to go. I go into a shell. Expecting the worse to happen, yet dreaming about the dream. Can't help but think about the day after the exam..
Day 0: Wow.. that was bad! probably have'nt made it.
Day 1: Get it out of your head..try to get a job now. No luck for you this year.
.
.
Day 20: I'm not even checking it today.. probably havent made it.
Day 21: I cant believe im through!!(casually surfing the net, thought wudnt hurt to see whats the verdict..got a call for gd/pi)
.. prep (no clue where to start)
..prep (no idea what im doing)
...more prep..
....frustrating prep..
Day 40: Cant say all the prep was worth it. Just when you think its going to go
really bad, they end up interviewing you about things you knew at the back of you
hand!
..confused
..happy
..not so happy..(when you start comparing other interviews with yours..)
..nervous
..more nervous
Day of the result: Already described above. Face expression could be read by a
stranger. Slept in the bus, walked up the stairs, got a phone
call.. from Dad--> Waiting List No. 12.

"Just when I thought I was out there, they pull me back in" -Al Pacino (Godfather Part III)

You refuse to look at the positive side, and think.. atleast they did'nt throw me out! Instead, you dread over the endless wait. Wonder why they call it the waiting list. Because you wait for the first class seats to be vacated, so that you can move from the sleeper class, to AC first class. Its not in your hands. From now on, its no use contemplating or trying to hard. Just wait. Wait for your future to open up. Wait, almost as if you're waiting for a pregnancy test, or HIV test. The difference here is, I have stopped giving a damn. I'm gonna wait, but for them to come to me..

THis is my new philosophy.. Arsen Wenger says..if you try to hard to get something, you usually dont get it. But if you try just the right amount, you've nailed it.

The Road Less Traveled.

Photo Courtesy Stealth :)



It’s pouring outside…
The heavens are crying and howling amidst the violent, sporadically placid winds.
Far away, in the distance, I see a road…
It shines from the water, and glistens like gold.
It’s the most beautiful thing I can see from up here, in the dark.
Looking through my window, that is blemished with tiny raindrops, I see the beautiful road lying there, still…not moving. It’s lying there so patiently, almost as if it’s waiting to be discovered.
Hoping that somebody would see the secret beauty it has to offer to this world.
It withstands the cold, the rain, the incessant heat, fierce storms, sometimes hail.
And yet it remains unaffected, undeterred by anything.
In spite of the clamorous buildings plummeting the essence of the road, in lay mans terms, ‘stealing its thunder’, it alone speaks volumes.
It needn’t boast about its radiance or utility. It’s the unspoken universal truth that superimposes the false pride of the tall buildings standing beside it.
You may think, that a road might seem contemptible, because it lay’s low; but what we don’t understand, is that it exudes and sustains life.
It’s the unsung hero of the modern world, and connects two vital landmarks to another, making life effortless, and easy.
It is not merely a utilitarian concept, its incomprehensibly beautiful.
A road may seem materialistic, as it is built from stone and tar…but when it’s finished, it lays there on the stretch, exquisitely, marking its territory.
The tar and stone seem insignificant, when it shines from far away, as it is drenched now.
The lights beside it, on the pavement, highlight that gorgeousness, and the most artificial object, is magically transformed, in our eyes, as the most appreciative and aesthetic side of life…man made life.

January Rain

It’s a beautiful day…
No sign of the sun, only heavenly drops of rain washing the earth of all that’s impure and dishonest. Almost like a second chance; to change, to revert and start with a fresh mind and heart.
The rain reveals a new side of who I am.
Almost like flaunting a previously secret shade that has been camouflaged by the mundane life and monotony of the sunshine.
And the blissful combination of the perfect chill and the monsoon give true meaning to some of the most beautiful songs you must have ever heard.
Like the gentle strums of a guitar, that makes you feel, like everything around you just freezes, while you take a walk with your thoughts.
Some songs just seem like they have been made for the rain…Almost as if it would be a sin to enjoy them otherwise.
The rain is magical.
It makes me want to leap and dance without a care of the world. It brings with it fairy dust and sprinkles it every where it trickles.
It makes me want to belong to something. Only what, I don’t know.
It’s so thrilling, it’s almost sad…
I like how the world appears in the milieu of rainfall. An indigo tinge to the malice and evil, makes it invisible, and highlights the concealed beauty of the world around you.
The splendor of a priceless conversation with someone you enjoy talking to, a drive in wild mist, or just curling up, in bed with a book make living worthwile.
Merely looking out of the window of a car, or sipping coffee in a café, makes the evening so meaningful, certainly not a waste of time.
Ever observed the little drops that trickle down the glass window pane? Don’t they resemble millions of tiny comets bombarding the ground, one after another…Only to make the ambience so magnificent, that it hurts to see them vanish.

There’s something so serene and magical about this day. Almost makes you feel like your falling in love. But with what and who, is the quest.
And I like the quest…because the process is much fun than already having found your target.
Its strange, how, when it rains, your mind automatically turns to thoughts that are placid and wishful.
I dream when it rains…and as ironic as it sounds, I wish it would rain on me…forever.