Space Truckin'

Old Poetry....:)

2011-05-01T13:04:00.000+05:30

One of the most frequent things you do in life is to 'miss'.

A few words I jotted down some days back. These were dotty little firebugs of thoughts whizzing past my head. As if I were travelling through the birth of a new star – cosmo-jacketed and piercing through clouds of nebula dust – swooping in with a prized catch of glowing bugs attached to my black suit.

Well, let me share those thoughts, bugs and sparks with all ye matey’s!!!

Miss, I miss you. I miss her too.
I miss the morning mist, I miss the dew.

However what's never amiss...is to miss.

I miss infant joys.
I miss my childhood laughter. I miss my mother’s caring lap.
I miss my convent, I miss kiddie friends whose faces I barely remember.

I miss my bicycle, I miss the tramping track.
I miss my father’s jokes that he used to crack.

I miss the lazy chats, on reed mats in searing summers.
I miss innocent winters and dry leaves of heather.

I miss the April storms as the rain-clouds gather.
I miss watching them and enjoy being sadder.

Sometimes I miss God. I believe I miss Satan too.

I miss all that is real and above all I miss you.

10 things to learn from JAPAN

2011-03-24T12:50:00.001+05:30

1. THE CALM - Not a single visual of chest-beating or wild grief. Sorrow itself has been elevated.

2. THE DIGNITY - Disciplined queues for water and groceries. Not a rough word or a crude gesture.

3. THE ABILITY - The incredible architects, for instance. Buildings swayed but didn't fall.

4. THE GRACE - People bought only what they needed for the present, so everybody could get something.

5. THE ORDER - No looting in shops. No honking and no overtaking on the roads. Just understanding.

6. THE SACRIFICE - Fifty workers stayed back to pump sea water in the N-reactors. How will they ever be repaid?

7. THE TENDERNESS - Restaurants cut prices. An unguarded ATM is left alone. The strong cared for the weak.

8. THE TRAINING - The old and the children, everyone knew exactly what to do. And they did just that.

9. THE MEDIA - They showed magnificent restraint in the bulletins. No silly reporters. Only calm reportage.

10. THE CONSCIENCE - When the power went off in a store, people put things back on the shelves and left quietly.

ASIATIC DUBSTEP: served HOT!!!

2011-03-09T22:57:00.003+05:30

dropping this month on Indian soundscapes.

Featuring...

Liquid Stranger : Hexed & Perplexed - feat. Deeyah

Jalebee Cartel : Mirrors - B.R.E.E.D Remix

Piyush Bhatnagar : Mixed Feelings - feat. Kaafila

Janaka Selekta : Awake - Karsh Kale's Morning Remix

Nuphlo : Homeland Insecurity

Radiohiro : I Am That I Am

David Starfire : Tumbi Blaster - feat. iCatching

Anuj Rastogi : Grasshopping - Slugstep Remix

Goonda : 21CFX feat. MC Zulu

dimmSummer : Rubstep - Slow Burn Mix

Goonda : Fearless feat. MC Zulu - Krts Brooklyn Bounce Remix

The weekend we were in love...

2010-05-20T19:21:00.008+05:30

The open summer breeze will sweep you through the hills

My darling we're both on the wing

Look down and keep on singing and we can go anywhere

Late nights and early parades

Still photos and noisy arcades

I am floating away lost in a silent ballet

Are you there?

Or are you just a decoy dream in my head?

Am I home or am I simply tumbling out alone?

I'm dreaming you're out in the blue and I am right beside you

Awake to take in the view.

(: Thinking of the weekend we were in love :)

The Revolution is Rising...

2010-04-28T14:10:00.005+05:30

A clarion call for this May 2010!

Finally out in India.

REVOLUTION RISING (INDIA)

Much Love, Respect and Appreciation to all who've been with me on this.

REVOLUTION RISING (US)

Nima (jaana, where art thou?)

2010-04-28T11:13:00.007+05:30

Its been a long while that I've met this crazy lovely being. Though the band is no more it makes total sense as everything still remains in ether.

Nima Lavafpour this one's for you!

**What started as a fun research with my deeply spiritual whacked out friends...became a life changing force. This video is a rough collage of what I shot in 2007.**

Nafir means sweet freedom. So does the music of this quartet from Iran exude. Comprising of:

Nafir is based in India and travels across the country spreading the power of love and spirituality through musical compositions of divine intensity and display of sheer energy. They weave a braid of harmonious notes entwining Traditional Persian Music with Jazz and Rock. Sonnets that they sing are mostly inspired or quoted by great Sufi mystics like Rumi, Hafiz, and the likes. Surprisingly and pleasantly you will find some Sanskrit mantras too.

And rightly so Nafir creates the right Sema (ambiance) for any music festival, for a pulse-racing adrenaline rush entwined with spiritual zest. Hu!!!

Nima on Vocals and Daf (Persian Drum)

Sahar on Vocals and Flute

Farboud on Guitars and Backing vocals

Mazdak on Tanboor and Khamanche (Persian String Instruments)

Video by Roy, Girish, Dilip & Dev.

Research, bewilderment & friendliness: Roy & sometimes Nima.

Fireflies in the head...

2010-04-26T15:59:00.005+05:30

The vibes were fresh and colorful. Eyes had innocent sparky corneal trinkets.

For me this Owl City song says a lot.

For me Seattle could be home, here - the city in which I be amongst the ones I love.

This one's goes out to the punk business lady who looks so graceful in the dark room sea-side hammock!

Hello Seattle, I am a mountaineer
In the hills and highlands
I fall asleep in hospital parking lots
And awake in your mouth

Hello Seattle, I am a mantaray
Deep beneath the blue waves
I'll crawl the sandy bottom of Puget Sound
And construct a summer home

Hello Seattle, I am the crescent moon
Shining down on your face
I will disguise myself as a sleeping pill
And descend inside of you

Hello Seattle, I am a cold seahorse
Feeling warm in your sand
I sing about the tide and the ocean surf
Rolling in the evening breeze

Hello Seattle, I am an albatross
On the docks and your boats
I sail above your inlets and interstates
Through the rain and open wind

Hello Seattle, I am an old lighthouse
Throwing beams of bright lights
Red in the morning, blue in the evening sun
Taking heed from everyone

Take me above your light
Carry me through the night
Hold me secure in flight
Sing me to sleep tonight

And maybe a nice video to go along with it...?

Malice in Ponderland

2010-03-17T12:51:00.011+05:30

This is not a review. This is just a view.

Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland is a big callous blunder. A far cry from Edward Scissorhands or the classy dark Sleepy Hollow, this one's not even close to Ed Wood, Willy Wonka, Big Fish or even Sweeney Todd! I would rather enjoy far out watching 'Corpse Bride' - an animated Depp rather than the aggressively promoted Mad Hatter, who hardly makes an impact in the narrative.

Whatever happened to Johnny Depp?? Jack Sparrow has rubbed furiously off his demeanor and all facial twitches resemble either a Willy Wonka or again a Sparrow. It seems he is living off his characters from films and carrying them forth to the next one. A very scary thought.

Burton and his lysergic diethylamide-induced factory has churned out a total waste of brilliance and economics behind this film. Every frame, every shot reminds you of one of the numerous 'unending falling-into-depth-less-pits', slaying of fire-gamma rays fuming dragon like creatures, futile humor lines and the list will put you to sleep even before Alice does. Infact Wonderland itself looks like an abandoned remains of a set from some old Burton movie.

The supporting cast are overplayed, underplayed, overacted, all around a Taylor Swift types who has played Alice (Mia Wasikowska = who?). Anne Hathaway's frustration of not getting better roles is apparent on screen as the perpetually stoned White Queen. Helena Bonham Carter has been overplayed to the hilt as the Red Queen and the ugliness is over the top. Other characters are as irritating as the 3D glasses.

After being terribly depressed, by the time I walked out of the theater, I overheard things from the crowd like 'Narnia should be in 3D', 'Harry Potter rocks any day', 'Mad Hatter looked like Willy Wonka's acid trip gone bad', of some that I can remember.

Trust me the animated and movie versions of Alice which we saw on our DoorDarshan sets during the summers were a tasteful lot. They were far out than Burtonscape.

It is clear that Burton seriously overestimates himself, which is not bad...but dude we are not on acid!!

A sober weekend dream

2010-03-15T17:12:00.004+05:30

I go to a salon and they do something to my hair that the 'do' becomes some what reed-like and its got a plume - a flaming red one. I take a walk on the street in the sun to show friends around. Some salon people and friends say "Hey this is a great shade...gawd fucking hair metal!

Something like this guy's ---

After a while the red turns into a shade of deep violet as it changes colours in the sun. Lo and Behold! I go back to the salon and tell them...listen the color is changing.

Get me something totally different! Get me satiated!! - I screamed.

They start cutting my hair really short this time - long at the front & short at the back, then they give me a nice shave leaving some of the mouch.

I look closely into the mirror, I see myself in sepia and fully satisfied I put my military jacket on and walk out with my right arm in the air.

Everyone else raised their hand back in salute as I walked out.

I woke up and rushed to check my new haircut. But blasted...it was still the same old.

I burst out laughing in realization!

I looked somewhat like this in my dream.

Strange & Sweet in Spring!

2010-03-05T11:15:00.012+05:30

Last night few friends were musing on some remarkable classical compositions over some beers. Well not exactly a 'wine-dine-articulate' conversation but more of Anthony Bourdain meets Sam Dunn kinds, if you know what I mean.

Then suddenly it struck upon me senses that 'Four Seasons' by Vivaldi, especially the spring part is such a lively rapture that compliments some place or some one so serenely beautiful. Though it was night and a few beers down, I could feel a warm caress of a sunny day and the tune played wonderfully in my head. So I gathered as much that I had to hum it to Silman - my dear friend and classical guitarist par excellence! The start was enough and what followed was half a room of people doing the 'TA TA TA' falsetto on Vivaldi's immemorial piece de renaissance!

Sweetness thy name is Spring; you've arrived and how!

Today I walk into office, still humming the tune, happy that it's a Friday and the weekend is at hand; I put on youtube to play Four Seasons...

LO and BEHOLD, what do I see...It's the 332nd birthday of Antonio Vivaldi.

Strange and Beautiful indeed! Long Live Vivaldi.

Just like a Waving Flag!

2010-02-26T10:46:00.011+05:30

Somalian by birth and based in Canada, K'Naan's Waving Flag had 'anthem' written all over the song. And why not, this song connects with one and all across socio-economic, cultural and continental strata like no other! Especially in our times, with some real tough monsters like terrorism, global climatic backlash, economic imbalance staring at us - we have but music and sports that bring the whole world closer.

Not being much of a rap aficionado, K'Naan's Troubadour kind of held me in much fascination specially for the Kirk Hammett (Metallica) track and a host of other stars like Mos Def, Damian Marley, Chubb Rock, Chali 2na, Adam Levine and David Bisbal. However Waving Flag stood out like a shining star amongst all of them. And the magic it spreads is infectious!

Imagine a stadium full of cheering waving flags, be it for a concert or a game - the entire universe converges into one single roar. With FiFA 2010 to be held in South Africa ~ the world's most popular sport now has a new chant - Waving Flag by K'NaaN. Now I know many who feel sick about our national anthem or even Rahman's rendition of Vande Mataram, should they be in such an arcade full of populi roaring Olé Olé Olé, I'm sure they'll taken in by complete awe and no corner to sulk!

And such good timing as yet another beautiful and earnest movie by Clint Eastwood - Invictus (Oscar nominee - Best Picture 2009) starring Morgan Freeman as Nelson Mandela and Matt Damon as the captain of the 1995 rugby team of the still apartheid hit South Africa. I was taken aback by the amazing Afro-tribal OST which in fact very finely uses an African version of this song.

Finally I leave you with a quote from the movie and the video of FIFA 2010 anthem (Mexican Version):

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul

I am the master of my fate

I am the captain of my soul.

Belus

2010-02-25T17:43:00.008+05:30

This is not a review.

Finally the epic album is out and leaked into cyber space. Varg Vikernes's murder driven facist past and through various stages of ideological shifts, we have an album Belus - 'nicknamed' (as he says) as 'The White God' or the Nordic Baldur. Varg has always been fascinated with Balder's exploits and hence this album begins with the death of Baldur plotted by a certain Luken to the resurrection of Belus at the 'konklusjon'.

Musically it gives all old Burzum fans the shivers, though his vocal range has dimmer-ed. However without getting too critical and as a die-hard Burzumuzik fan, its a great album to spend some wonderful misanthropic time with. Also as I said earlier, this post is not a review - its rather a musical mouthpiece.

This is what Varg has mentioned on Belus in various press articles:

“The album has been made according to my heart and spirit, and not to fit into any particular genre or category, or to live up to anyone’s obvious expectations. The music can best be compared to the music of some of the old Burzum albums; in particular the ground breaking Hvis Lyset tar Oss and the atmospheric brilliances of Filosofem, only the ambient parts present on these albums has been almost completely left out on Belus. There is no special reason for this, other than coincidence and the fact that I have for some time made more and better music on the guitar rather than on the keyboard.”

“Inspiration for the album has come from a variety of sources, and I find my inspiration from fairy tales and myths, from classical music, from memories of what once was, from traditional music, from fantasy, from the wind and weather, from deep forests and running water, from the sky and the sunset, from misty mountains and from yellow leaves falling from age old trees.”

“My ambition with Belus is to create something I — and hopefully others too — can listen to for years and years to come without ever growing tired of it, and at the same time to share with my audience the experience of getting to know Belus, as he might have been perceived by the ancient Europeans.”

"The combination of lyrics and music makes this a fairy tale different from most others, and should appeal to all those who like transcendental music and love to see different things from a different perspective. “If I can make you dream when listening to this album, I believe I have done a good job.”

“I am aware of the black metal association with the name Burzum, and I have no real and serious problem with that, but I personally see no reason to place Belus in any category. I think Belus musically transcends all existing categories, but if I have to choose one — and for the sake of simplicity — I will simply place it in the metal category.”

And finally what Varg says on the controversial album name -

"When I used the name "The White God" for my next album I had no idea it would stir up so much fear and irrational emotions. To me this is just a nickname of Baldur, whom the album is all about. No ambiguity intended.

The title of the album is,"Belus", the so-called Indo-European name for Baldur/the White God. I could have used any European name for this deity, but I chose this one because it is the oldest known name and because it is pan-European."

Belus releases worldwide on 8th March 2010 on Byelobog Productions.

Belus' Doed (Belus' Death)

Abiogenesis

2010-02-24T13:59:00.009+05:30

Indigenous people making indigenous music. Abiogenesis, a Grammy nominated band from Nagaland, India. This song will take you to where it belongs. High up amongst the Seven Sisters delving into the misty hills where freedom lives.

This song speaks about Mount Saramati - the highest peak of Nagaland. The message is clear - peace, love and harmony.

Youthanasia

2010-02-23T10:51:00.007+05:30

I can never get over this album.

Glad that it happened to me pretty early in life.

Mighty Hails \m/

Lessons in Inebriety

2010-02-17T17:41:00.029+05:30

1. *Symptom*: Cold and humid feet. *

Cause :* Glass is being held at incorrect angle

(You are pouring the Drink on your feet). *

Cure: *Manoueuvre glass until open end is facing upward

2. *Symptom*: The wall facing you is full of lights. *

Cause : *You're lying on the floor. *

Cure: *Position your body at a 90-degree angle to the floor.

3. *Symptom:* The floor looks blurry. *

Cause : *You're looking through an empty glass . *

Cure: *Quickly refill your glass!

4. *Symptom*: The floor is moving. *

Cause : *You're being dragged away. *

Cure: *At least ask where they're taking you!

5. *Symptom:* You hear echoes every time someone speaks. *

Cause : *You have your glass on your ear and tryin to drink from it *

Cure: *Stop making a fool of yourself!

6. *Symptom*: Your dad and all your brothers are looking funny. *

Cause : *You're in the wrong house. *

Cure:* Ask if they can point you to your house.

7. *Symptom:* The room is shaking a lot, everyone is dressed in white and the music is very repetitive. *

Cause* : You're in an ambulance. *

Cure:* Don't move. Let the professionals do their job.

*Picture Courtsey:: http://stylecrave.com/2009-04-03/most-expensive-whiskies-in-the-world

Thou Shalt NOT Kill

2010-02-15T11:21:00.014+05:30

I do not want to write sincere homages or any of the mawkish blabber.

JUST LET US HAVE SOME COFFEE IN PEACE!!

This one is for ISLAMIC HARDLINERS - you are following a wrong religion and God, if there is any, in your case.

If you think you are following HIS Will then you are wrong. You are just following orders no better than clerks.

Just that clerks don't kill people. So you are worse at your job.

Growing a beard and shaving off your moustache might be religio-scientific for you. But you cannot get others to follow your trend because it is definitely not cool.

You are not Alexander Mcqueen. RIP.

To Pansy Islamic wife-beaters - We will build 10 more German Bakeries and have 20 more cross cultural zones & 100 more Panzer Division Tanks to blow your balls off.

Trust me guys, if it weren't for oil, America would've kicked your rotten ass decades back.

Israel will anyways fuck your well-being pretty soon. And we will be with them.

Don't go running & crying to Allah, coz he'll be sipping some tea and enjoying Sufi music with me.

No matter how bad you multiply, your terrormonging generals generally die in the most uncool way. Ass up face down, bloodied.

Your jannat is a disheveled neglected morgue. Your martydom is a but a pile of bones in some forgotten corner of an army base.

Ass up face down, bloodied.

Miss you GB, looking forward to a quick recovery!

And to all my Muslim friends no offence meant please.

The infamy

2010-02-04T18:55:00.009+05:30

"In the Future, Everyone will be famous for 15 minutes."

He was so true!

I Love Bombay

2010-02-04T11:30:00.010+05:30

marine drive 1930s

Mumbai is an aging whore. And everyone around is still out to f**k her. Be it the North Indian Bhaiyya or the local Marathi, they are out to suck its resources - namely fame, power, money - bleeding dry.

The Eloi don't give a shit nor do the Morlocks. In H.G. Wells' Tme Machine, there was a power strife between the two, but in Bombay the Eloi have a problem with each other, ditto with the Morlocks fighting amongst themselves. These are mindless, futile territorial pissings that care less about the land and more about inflated egos of confused clans.

Funny thing is that the SS (not the German Schutzstaffel) and the MNS's 'son of the soil' call might land them in trouble as they undermine the huge influx of daily wage labourers that arrive not just from UP or Bihar or elsewhere but also from drought-striken calamity areas within Maharashtra like Vidarbha, Amravati, etc. Interestingly the fight is at 2 levels - super powerful and those below or at level with poverty line.

For the super rich its an ideological power struggle whereas for the have-nots it boils down to their very right for survival. And all this happening at a place where I've lived all my life.

Its very clear that the Thakerays can ever stop this influx legally, even if they go in for a wild naming spree of public venues, Marathize all literature and deploy other votebank building gimmicks. Also the North Indian brigade with their funny Bhaiyya Hindi are absolutely resolute and immovable. They claim to love Mumbai more than anyone else and over some years this brigade has just turned stronger. Now it gets only more intense as the ring gets bigger and fatter names are pulled in!

And the love affair continues with this concubine that was Bombay once....

Salman Khan Wanted

2010-02-02T15:08:00.005+05:30

MAFIA WANTS HIM DEAD, POLICE WANTS HIM ALIVE

Hello buffs! After 2 weeks of hugely over-rated films like Ishqiya, Rann, Veer, (Chanus pe Danus?) I thought I needed to brighten your little screens a bit.

This might seem like a dated post as it has been a few months since the film's release last year. And I never was a big Salman Khan fan. This post comes after a few dismal Sallu Bhai flicks - Veer being the latest. This is not even a review - in fact its an account of how much I've enjoyed watching Wanted on DVD and how you should also take courage, go ahead and flip the dvd in your players.

To all of those who found the promos very 'T-series yucky' - you all were right. They were freaking tacky all the way! But Wanted was a bloody delightful watch, keeping us all in splits. I was surprised at the witty ends of the movie.

Prabhudeva and the South Brigade are an innovative and funny lot. Wanted by Prabhudeva is an extremely entertaining movie. This I'm sure I don't need to reiterate. In fact Wanted is not even exactly a Pokiri remake!!

The film has brought back wonderful ways of the 70s and 80s but with highly stylized formula fights of relentless baddie bashing, sexy heroine gyrating, cheeky jokes, and the man himself does more than justify his screen presence. If all of us shrugged at Sallu's last dozen films that flopped, there is always one film that more than saves him. Mind you - Wanted is not just for the rickshaw audience. It actually exemplifies classic Bollywood hit film-making.

I also love the way Salman can state expressions derived from his own life into dialogues and what prowess. This guy has got balls larger than life! In fact at a point - I felt like watching the Hindi counterpart of Superstar Rajnikant!

If you are interested in others in the movie then - Ayesha Takia is cat like sexy and makes a hot combo with Salman. Mahesh Manjrekar is best in his evil role. But watch out for Southie acting great Prakash Raj in the role of Gani Bhai, I caught him in some South Indian films and this guy is cult!

Oh and Salman as Radhe has played himself in the movie.

Miss Ann Trophy!

2010-01-28T11:24:00.004+05:30

Getting your hook off social and public view gives me immense pleasure.

Yesterday I deleted my last existing social networking account. Trust me, the feeling is a mix of a certain lightheadedness in a good way and freedom from a certain social responsibility to represent. The very fact that I'm writing again proves how much of useful time abounds and remains untapped.

Social networking is based on being judgmental. And I'm not saying this out of any grief or hatred against anyone - I've had my very fair share of glamorous-pompous facebooking across spheres of influences. And why was it judgmental all the way - let me exemplify...

Character 1

Friends - 1546

Activity - Hyper

Status update - bright sunny happy.

Wants to be perceived as - Most happening, love cared, watched, charm of all parties.

Actually is - confused, lost, unwanted.

Character 2

Activity - Zero

Status Update - been the same since a couple of years

Wants to be perceived as - I don't really care

Actually is - Extremely busy in mundane affairs.

Character 3

Activity - Hyper

Status Update - Changes every moment depending on mood

Wants to be perceived as - A great social networker in the history of social networking.

Actually is - A great social networker with a bad social life.

Character 4

Activity - dormant

Status Update - last party attended when logged in.

Wants to be perceived as - a party animal.

Actually is - a party animal.

Character 5

Activity - busy

Status Update - links/ urls

Wants to be perceived as - information provider.

Actually is - in search of more info and similar links/ urls.

There might be more categories to which I didn't get time to characterize or there might be more characters to which I didn't get time to categorize.

So till the next time that I come forth with some more useless information that you would never require, please stare at the image below for a while carefully...he actually moves if you watch carefully.

Arise...awake!

2010-01-27T16:56:00.002+05:30

Where the mind is without fear and the head held high,

Where knowledge is free,

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls,

Where words come out from the depth of truth,

Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection,

Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit,

Where the mind is led forward by Thee into ever-widening thought and action,

Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

- Rabindranath Tagore

One Conversation Gone Bad

2009-07-01T11:23:00.003+05:30

I believe we come across many English comedies that leave us in splits. But this one is from a Hollywood film. Stanley Tucci's directed and acted alongwith Oliver Platt in this class comedy which is about two struggling theatre/ film actors who have to scamper for their daily bread.

This particular situation made me roll in laughter like a child. Just check the dialogues out. All this effort by the starving duo was to have creampuffs for free.

Maurice (Oliver Platt): [has just finished eating a pastry; part of a scheme to get free pastries] I hate them.

Baker in Kramer's Pastries: Oh, I'm sorry; to each his own. There's another bakery shop down the block whose wares might be more to your liking. Thank you for coming in.

[to Arthur (Stanley Tucci)]

Baker in Kramer's Pastries: May I help you, sir?

Arthur: Yes, would you excuse me a moment? I'm sorry,

[to Maurice]

Arthur: I couldn't help but overhear, excuse me, sir, um, but may I say that your rudeness to this hard-working gentleman is uncalled for.

Baker in Kramer's Pastries: Please, sir

Maurice: I beg your pardon.

Arthur: No, I beg yours, sir. I happen to know that this gentleman

[refers to the baker]

Arthur: is one of the finest pastry chefs on the Eastern seaboard.

Baker in Kramer's Pastries: Well, thank you.

Arthur: You're welcome.

Baker in Kramer's Pastries: Do I know you?

Arthur: Of course you do.

Maurice: What's your point?

Arthur: My point is, sir, that you would not know a good creampuff if it jumped up and licked you on the ass.

Maurice: Well...

Baker in Kramer's Pastries: Sir, it's just a difference in taste.

Arthur: No, no. this man is clearly an imbecile.

Maurice: Ah, an insult!

[quietly to Arthur]

Maurice: I'm in-I'm insulted?

Arthur: Yes.

Maurice: I'm insulted! Well, I am!

Arthur: Oh, well good-good-good-good! Well, I'm glad you are! But I'm sure you're not as insulted as this gentleman!

Baker in Kramer's Pastries: Oh, I'm not insulted.

Arthur: Oh, yes you are! The man works all day like a mule to support his miserable family.

Baker in Kramer's Pastries: Well, here now, my family isn't miserable. We're all quite happy!

Arthur: No, you're not! You're miserable and pathetic, look at you!

[ignoring his protest]

Arthur: All day, working like a lackey from rise to set sweating in the eye of Phoebus!

Baker in Kramer's Pastries: I love my work!

Arthur: No, you don't!

Arthur: What a fool you are!

Baker in Kramer's Pastries: I am *not* a fool!

Arthur: Oh, yes you are!

Maurice: Sir, you really sholdn't talk to this gentleman that way. You like the cream puffs. I *don't* like the cream puffs.

Arthur: FUCK THE CREAM PUFFS! THIS MAN IS A SLAVE AND AN IDIOT!

I'm sure many of us have been in such similar catch-22s in our lives!

Dharamsala - A Return to Serenity in pictures

2009-06-05T14:51:00.011+05:30

I was in this heaven last winter December 2007, thought I would like to share the experience with you. There was much to write, but then probably my camera clicking skills might take over the words. Just kidding at that...Honest, I do not have words to describe Dharamsala....

On the way - This is Karnal, Ambala

Im So happy to reach!

Chamba VAlley

Banikhet - 11 am - could you believe it?

Tea At a Dhaba - Couldn't help take this pic

Pamlful of sun

Monks at the Dalai Lama Monastery passing by

Hindu ascetic - He demanded 20 bucks after I took this one!

Monks at the Mcleodgunj Main market

Another monk passing by...oh no its me!

Prayer Wheels at the monastery - I always wanted to take this redundant angle!

This one too!

The Monastery by the Market

Relics inside the Dalai Lama Monastery

A beautiful evening spent at the pub at the Market square

With a Mongolian friend who didn't know a word of English!

I have some more interesting pictures..coming soon

Itna Paisa Mein Itnaich Milenga...

2009-05-07T17:22:00.003+05:30

I believe the vagaries of life have been too taxing upon me to revel in words for a while now. It’s been more of human, mechanical, official, a little less of musical, a lot of parties and new acquaintances, drifting away from old ones and coming back close to them - till now when I stumbled upon a row of blogs that fascinated me.

This is when instinctively got me back to the world of words. It feels good and warm if you ask me. This post will be all about the dance music party scene, without any references or offences to any 'party' (pun intended).

I adore and enjoy live acts. There's the grind, the sweat, the cacophonous melee of cahooting party people cavorting around with happy faces. Now this is what we all expect out of a wild night, no?

But then these days in the times of national security issues, rising inflation, infanticides, farmer suicides, campaigning criminals, criminals in uniform – wait, am I getting too morose with all this…all right, then allow me to state that these times are the best times to party all the more given the situation, every urban being requires a vent out! That comes in form of a Friday/ Saturday Nights or Sunday Afternoons of sheer Mayhem. No I do not intend to sound like a satyr.

It is good to meet old and new friends around hopping from table to table, floor to floor, making funny signs around at people you know and even those whom you don’t. That is when you get great energies, vibes, the juice, you know what I mean.

I do not want to stand like a mannequin with my lady of the night mannequin with a drink in hand and sway like a pompous noble to the beat. No! I need to have a good time that evening for all dough that one spends and takes pain to travel from one end of town to visit the artiste performing alongside meeting up with buddies.

Mumbai needs to have night hubs that represent you - I’ve always cited the existence of follower clubs and city joints in Bombay. Something that Germany, UK, Norway, and other European countries have. Punk, Grunge, Space, Gothic, Korova, Cult, Cine, Horror, Pink Love Beds, so on and so forth many kinds of hubs! It would be real fun to hang around in these places as there would be a feeling of belonging to be at such jaunts.

However over here in Bombay, its a ‘mix-mash-forcematchup’ of all things that really spoil the fun. Something that is not Bhangra or Bollywood or Retro, is condidered out of the way or niche.

So…we are like that only. Itna Paisa Mein Itnaich Milenga!

'A Wednesday'

2008-11-28T17:40:00.006+05:30

I moved to Mumbai six years ago from New York City, and I have seen India change with each terrorist attack. Wednesday night's attack will prove a defining turning point. India will go from being "resiliently defensive" to "resolutely offensive."

To understand the impact on the financial capital of India one needs to know the unique place the Taj Mahal Hotel and the Oberoi Complex (both the Oberoi Trident and the Oberoi) play in the fabric of the city's life, especially for its professionals. The Taj Mahal Hotel and the Oberoi Complex are not just the Four Seasons and Pierre of New York City. They are Mumbai's lifeline and blood.

As a consultant and a hedge fund manager, I, like thousands of Mumbai professionals, could count on being at these hotels two to three times a week. In any given week, more than a dozen conferences are being held at either hotel attended by the city's lawyers, bankers, consultants and entrepreneurs. The hotels are the Ellis Island for foreign firms and foreign professionals. Whole floors of these hotels serve as offices. The first outpost office of any major MNC is the Taj or the Oberoi: McKinsey, Blackstone, Texas Pacific Group, the list is endless.

But the hotels are much more than financial destinations; they are cultural centers. The best bookshop in Mumbai is in the Taj. Out of the 10 best restaurants in the city, half are in these two hotels. After a late night out, the 24 hour coffee shops of both hotels are filled with young people using them as late-night diners. Visit these same coffee shops in the day and you might see two families having a cup of tea discussing a matrimonial alliance. For a Mumbaiker, these hotels serve as a second home.

Every Indian is familiar with the Taj, its iconic red brick architecture façade serves as the backdrop for so many stories and Bollywood movies. So when Sonia Gandhi, the President of the ruling Congress Party, says that these are attacks on India's prestige, she means it.
If the attacks on the two hotels were not enough, the CST train terminal was hit. One out of every 10 commuters uses the CST (formerly known as the Victoria Terminus) daily. And after attacking the CST, the terrorists hit the Cama Hospital, a hospital for women and children. The last major target was a Jewish center. Mumbai has housed an Iraqi Jewish community for centuries. Not once have they been targeted. That has changed.

These attacks are going to serve as a tipping point for India. India has had no less than 10 terrorist attacks over the last five years described as India's 9/11. And so now is the latest assault.

As the Indian landscape changed, so has the Indian attitude. The first Bollywood movie on the attacks highlighted the resilience of Mumbai citizens. But in conversations, writings and film, people have shifted from resilience to wanting revenge. One of the most successful movies of 2008 highlights an ordinary citizen taking revenge. The surprise hit of 2008 in India is a low-budget thriller called "Wednesday." "Wednesday" is a taut thriller where the audience is held in suspense. The person the audience believes is a terrorist hell-bent on releasing his jailed compatriots is actually a vigilante. He doesn't secure the release; he blows them up. The audience cheers as he tells the police, "We (the people) are tired of being resilient. Our hands are not tied, we too can hit back." Audiences around the country clapped and cheered his soliloquy. And now with these attacks, the attitude hardens even more. CNN-IBN, the local English news channel, not known for hyperbole, is calling its coverage not Terror in Mumbai, but "War on Mumbai." Local anchors refer to the rescue operations as urban warfare.

Last week, at an Indian leadership summit, I watched Shashi Tharoor, the former U.N. Undersecretary General and India's candidate to be Secretary General, ask Henry Kissinger how India should react to Pakistani agents attacking the Indian Embassy in Kabul. Mr. Kissinger said it wasn't his place to answer. Fair enough, but the question remains what should India do?
India faces tough decisions over the next few weeks and months. Every time India has been hit, there has be no counter reaction. The vast majority of Indians believe that the attacks emanate from Pakistan. While most Indians don't blame Pakistanis, they do blame instruments and agents of the Pakistani government, specifically the ISI. With the bombing in Kabul, the U.S. confirmed that the ISI was involved adding an independent credible voice to India's charges of Pakistani involvement.

In his first speech on Thursday to the nation, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh said "It is evident that the group which carried out these attacks, based outside the country, had come with single-minded determination to create havoc in the commercial capital." There is little doubt as to which country Prime Minister Singh has in mind.

The people will demand action against the masterminds of the attacks. And perception in India is that it is the ISI guides and masterminds the attacks. Elections in India are in due in the next six months and pressure will mount on the Indian government to act. Joe Biden was right, Barack Obama will face an international test in the first six months. South Asia looks to be that test.

- Prashant Agrawal, CEO of Indipepal.com

Singur 'Sing No More'

2008-10-10T13:46:00.001+05:30

The withdrawal of the Nano project from West Bengal is the most depressing and disappointing news I've read in a long, long time, more so because I, like so many other right-thinking Bengalis, was hoping that the project would somehow be salvaged. Not that the project was a pristine one. Questions can justifiably be raised as to the way in which some of the land was acquired, and maybe on other policy matters as well.

Ms Mamata Banerjee could well have asked for a referendum to be held, or some such other legal and acceptable form of protest.But then, legal and sane is not what Mamata is all about. She is famous for her histrionics, for rushing in where angels fear to tread and for her pro-people paglami (madness). She has to maintain her brand image, and the image of West Bengal can go take a dive for all she seems to care. She is such a wrong sort of opposition leader in a state which desperately requires a strong and SENSIBLE opposition. It is simply not healthy for a democracy to have a ruling party, which by hook or crook, has remained in power for donkey's years.

The CPI(M) is an ugly party, period. In its cynicism, behind its doublespeak, under its smooth manipulation of facts and factions, in its ruthless and systematic mowing down of any protest, in its seeping down and eroding basic services like health/education and basic values like work culture, in its three decades of anti-industry-stance and recent pro-industry 'won't you come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly'-attitude, it reeks of ugliness. A little deodorant in the form of a smiling Buddhadev Bhattacharjee is not really enough to hide the stench.

There is something rotten in the state of Denmark (as Hamlet said) and Ms Banerjee is not the person to stem the rot. Instead of offering viable alternatives, she is getting sucked into the very rot which she is supposedly exposing. And caught in the crossfire between UGLY and PAGLI, the Tatas have left Singur, breaking a million hopes. I feel so, so sad when I hear people talking dismissively and derisively about West Bengal. It's a place where people talk more and work less, where no business can thrive because people are only interested in politics, where it rains bandhs and strikes…that is what I hear all the time. The red party flag has become synonymous with STOP WORK. The Singur project was supposed to change all that. It was supposed to herald a new era, a BENGAL SHINING instead of a BENGAL SHIRKING. That is not to be.

And the schism between my West Bengal, muddled and riddled with self-destructing Ugly-s and Paglis, and the rest of India, marching ahead with new-found confidence, has widened all that much more.

Hard Rock Caffein

2008-08-29T12:21:00.002+05:30

I was at the Hard Rock Cafe, Mumbai for the Independence Rock Elims last nite, and wasn't overwhelmed like how people are when they debut the HRC. You know friend, this is India, so its all showbiz. The only thing I liked was the band Aftertaste.

Venue and Venetians
The whole place is so huge and lit up with floor levels to give it a bigger look, its supposed to be a mecca of rock, but it turned out that majority of the crowd were people who also go to a Hawaian Shack or Toto's Garage. On paper a pint is supposed to be 128 but they charged 160. Drunk kids on frequent tequila shots swayed to the nationwide (India of course!) "Rock revolution-resurrection-marketing gimmick-fad-coolness" factor to which the sponsors spooled their giveaways, high priced booze, et al unto a massive tendering. Most of the families, sloshed media executives, girls from ad agencies, wannabe model-celebs, college kids dowsed in the cool factor of wanna model-celebs who also listen to hard rock and sway to Backstreet Boys (yes they are very much alive!) - all of them were completely clueless to the music that was being catered to them. One good (worst!) thing that the Big Indian Rock Scene has created is that any band can get away with bad music without jeers, as long as the crowed is being catered to and serviced.
Bands with names like "Depth" and Manipest (or Manefus or Manifest who cares dood...when you gotta get drunk and gigolo dance to them while they cry back their Hits titled "must drink" "we are all wasted" "do you like what you see" - well to that NO I dont! @#$%#) and a certain self proclaimed 'music man's' band monkeyed around the roofed stage!

A Never Before Experience
You only had to be there to 'feel' it.
In between two bands suddenly the speakers started playing YMCA disco track and all the Hard Rock "boys" primarily waiters, climbed up an isle in a row and started dancing in unison, entertaining the crowd. And they were doing their periodick pelvic thursts as if it were the gay version of Coyote Ugly - if you have seen the film. The crowd went crazy andloving it wild at that. I just stood there and pondered - feeling deeply out of place.

This was supposed to be a rock show at a hard rock place!
Now there are gay bars in the world elsewhere where there are gigolo dancers and sleaze-bar waitresses on offer for cover charges and free, however for LUCRETIA's sake This is HRC! They have a bloody legacy to follow and stride ahead. The only compensatory feeling I gathered was I being a metalhead can proudly walk into HRC with my head held high and tresses abounce without having to confuse people of my kind. Often do i wonder - am I the last of my kind?
'Coz its supposed to be the only certified ROCK cafe and I believe the only way to attain ultimate peace and satisfaction for us hordes would be to travel abroad and be a part of the underground scene. This country can afford to be fake at the spending class level even on high inflation GDPs.

Last Word
After spending some odd moments trying to align with the place, I bumped into Prashant (guitarist Exhumation/ Scribe), an old friend who curiously enquired, "YOU Here? How?" It took me a while, when I then realized his amusement in surprise. As I laughed to myself on my long way back home.

7 Countries. 3 Continents. 1 Tribe!

2008-08-27T14:08:00.006+05:30

On the advent of Sam Dunn's second film

GLOBAL METAL

7 Countries. 3 Continents. 1 Tribe

with his, now distintive self-styled filming of bands and fans,

this repost would definitely try to arouse the mutual feeling

of anticipation and excitement

for any metalhead across the universe.

Aptly subheaded as ONE TRIBE!
A multitude of horns up to Dunn and Mcfayden.

It's because of you we still have hope on earth.

Finally the thing that I was waiting for, to take me off recipes. This movie is a tribute to metal; right from early classick roots to the genre-wise tracking of a sound growing heavier and intense each passing decade. A master documentary cut by the most original and real metal head I have ever come across - Samuel Dunn. An anthropologist by education, Dunn makes a likable companion in our journey through the metal underground, meeting some of the biggest stars of the genre on the way.

What makes things really exciting, is the fact that Dunn had chosen India amongst the countries to feature in his sophomore effort which is due. He was here to cover a few Indian metal bands as well as his old time favourites Iron Maiden headlining at Bangalore this year.

A head banger's journey starts off by examining Metal's roots with the long debate in regards to who was the first Metal band ever. Then, we are taken through an analysis of how metal sub-genres came to exist. Dunn also gives his thoughts about Metal's culture, viewpoints, religious standpoints, the fans and every other aspect of metal. Some of the veterans of the scene as well as some insightful outsiders give their interesting opinions to support the argument at hand. The film balances the serious aspects of Metal with some unintentional humor. Personalities like Alice Cooper, Bruce Dickinson, Alex Webster, Slipknot, Ghaal, Dee Snider, Doro, Ihsahn and many others offer their own individual thoughts in an intellectual way while bands like Mayhem make a fool out of themselves during a drunken interview.

The structure of the film follows life's most provocative subjects - Censorship, Sexuality, Death & Violence, and more. Each area is thoughtfully explored with comments from many musicians and some outside observers. From the calm commentary of Rob Zombie to the wry humour of Dio.

The most amazing moment of the film is when Dee Snider of Twisted Sister walks in the courtroom to testify; clad in hair apparent, torn jeans, ripped jacket in a room full of bureaucrats and beholders of moralistic jurisdicktion headed by Tipper Gore, wife of Al Gore, circa 1984. She had run a crusade against metal during those times. And Dee in sheer deliberation pulls out his "speech" of a testimonial reads out loud for the courtroon. It was politically neat and sent sarcastic pinches for Ms. Gore while the men in suits are visually shaken with uneasy tweaks and turns all around.

There are funny moments where Alice Cooper claims to be the first one, whose music was coined as the term Heavy Metal. Then further in the course of the film he reassures that it was shock rock!

The spine chilling and appalling moment for me was when Dunn interviews Gaahl from Gorgoroth. And this behemoth of a Black Metal frontman sips his wine, pauses and with a near statue-like gaze he says "Satan", with a deep drowning voice and goes ahead to support church burnings with stark contempt towards the church.

Dunn is a true metal head. The documentary is extremely entertaining and informative. It made me proud to be a metal head. It even made me give bands I'm not too fond of another chance. Bottom line is, if you're a Metal fan you'll enjoy this from beginning to end. If you're a curious outsider, here's your chance to understand our world better and get a more defined opinion of our music. And even if you don't, well to quote Dunn at the end: "We're doing just fine without you…"

Lucid Hedonism I & II: A repost for the rains

2008-06-06T16:24:00.002+05:30

Lucid Hedonism

What is it about the Mediterranean sunset? The wine, the air, the people, the music, the sea...oh yes the sea. Mykonos, Ibiza, French Riviera, Bali. Take Goa, coz I am still poor. It’s the calm of the chaos. The freedom. The earthy sense of belonging. Close to a world we all ignore in the buzz of a mechanized jungle.

Here we come in praise of the sun. Psychedelic colours fill your eyes up as you look in its direction. Or do we see glistening mermaids in the shimmering sea as I lie in my hammock. This mix of pina colada is heaven. This Cafe Del Mar mix of Chicane - Offshore is pristine. The beach is lonely apart from a few pleasure seekers like me. There is a little hilltop at a distance. I can hear faint ambient music coming in my direction, calling me. I look at my side. I see the Tooth Fairy in her dark glasses looking at the sky. Her pale skin has turned a shade darker with the tan. She looks back at me. And we both know. Hand in hand we start our slow walk towards the hillock by the sea. The sun is on its way to never land. Alfredo, our tattoo guy, screams out something to us from his shack. He was flinging something in the air, which looked like currency notes. Poor fellow, will realise when he wakes up next morning...I mean if he ever sleeps.

I pull the Tooth Fairy up the rocks as she joyfully chuckles something funny that I cannot recall. I ask her to stop thinking of Bombay. We reach the top. The wind almost blows my Tooth Fairy off her feet into the fall from the cliff several feet down. I hold her with both hands in a firm grip. The music is louder now. Its psytrance. The crowd is more or less....ok lets not get into ethnicity. The crowd is good. They are gesticulating in a strange way that is no more strange to me, as if throwing their bodies around. I see a long-haired blond girl sitting at the far end of the cliff in deep meditation, facing the setting sun. They are brothers and sisters of the earth. One world, one life. Fellow Earthlings! This is the time to be. We are alive.

Someone tugs me by my hand. I turn around to see someone I recognize but can't quiet remember. She takes me winding through the crowd to a small shack nearby. More crowds. Humdrum. Kids running here and there. A few people had gathered there looking at something in unison. Before I wondered what, I could see the magic that they were going through. A sole paraglider hovering in the sky with the huge crimson sun touching the waters as a perfect backdrop. The sky is a flurry mix of a thousand shades. Crimson, Purple, Blue. The sand never felt so good under my feet. And in this moment I am happy. I felt Love. I take Toothy by her arms and planted a placid kiss on her frail lips.

This is pure Hedonism. This is my lucid dream.

Moksha: Lucid Hedonism II

Here....this is eternity. Freeze frame. The moment stops. This is the world. This is nothingness.

So many times I have runed on apocalyptic thoughts and prayed for a mass phenomenon. Six years back the world was close to a real happening, Y2k. But it turned out to be a marketing hype. That was sad. Nostradamus and the Church, you both were miserably wrong! Then came Aum Shinrikyo - The Supreme Truth, the Japanese Cult. OK. Forget that. Think about Sensations - the mammoth raves organised in Germany. Think G8 Live. These are mass occurrences. But nothing ever happens. No adrenaline. Finally I'm getting out of here. Arms are stretched wide, on the edge and the angel glides down to take me. It becomes tiring to ask oneself all the time "whats next?". Its finally over. The end of stagnation, the final rot. The everlasting celebration begins.

World! Be happy , in your neverending tryst clamouring for space, to accomodate your body and your mind.

Samsara! Be happy in the chaos. Hope you find the euilibrium that you desperately need. Beauty you could never be appreciated. Nature thou shall always be defiled. Samsara! Be happy in your own world.

Then....there is light. Luminous, effervescent, unearthly, divine light. Which gives enormous strength. Which brings about extreme positivity. It feels like I have always been working out in the gym. It feels like I have always been practising the divine Yogasanas all my life. Its like mint jacuzzi after a Turkish massage laced with enchanting oil and magickal mud. Maybe this is the perpetual feeling which everyone vies for? Or maybe they forget what are they seeking for.

Thoughts should have a getaway which is most significant. Thoughts should lead to action. Action removes stagnation. Its this static ecstatic state of mind which should be omnipresent and shall never fade.

We should all be willfully seeking this pleasure.

Grand Endless Light (noor-un-ala)

2008-03-24T16:56:00.008+05:30

The omnipresence
Your Omnipresence
In all the four directions
You are the grand instrument of light

This showering brilliance cleaves the darkness
You're yonder, You're beyond
Oh this light! What a luminescence!
noor-un-ala

I ask, is there anyone else other than you?
And when I did
It silenced the dark, blushed the light away to shyness

I asked the birds, where's the sky abound
I asked the silence, then where is the sound?
From flowers, leaves, colours came this ever-blooming song
noor-un-ala

I raised the veil that revealed what else but your splendour
I raised a step towards where else but your haven
I raised an eye only to what else but your face

In the hum of the bumblebee
In the tinkering of the bangles

In the body and soul of lovers
In the eyes of the woman separated from her beloved
In melody and in symphony
There is just you
You only You
noor-un-ala

In the heart's crazy pondering
And mind's ceaseless wandering is you
So lift me away from these will you
Life has forever been a mystery
and has been to this day
To empathize, is there a need?
If empathized, who's got the need?
Those who have, some say its love
And some say its prayer

Oh this spell of passionate frenzy
Your grace is only the only way
And that is Love.

(This author's translation of Noor-un-ala by M.F. Hussain. OST Film - Meenaxi.
Picture courtesy Ravneet Kaur, Jahan-e-Khusro)

A Sonnet (reprise)

2008-03-24T15:50:00.003+05:30

Crazy mind sojourns a pipe dream
Crazy lil mind, bewildered thoughts beam

Crazy throbs of the heart, crazier sighs
Crazy longings prevail, crazier the nights

Crazy eyes seek a crazier gaze
Crazy mind rests in perpetual haze

Crazy cosmic loner yearns for a crazier soul
Crafty let the world be, as your hand in mine we roll

Crazy let the song, crazier the tune be
Crazy intoxicated feet let sway to a crazier melody

Crazy is the darkness, crazier the silence
Quivering flame glows in a crazier madness

Crazy veil reveals your subtle oblivious gleam
Crazy mind sojourns a pipe dream

My rendition of 'Bawra Mann' by Swanand Kirkire from the Sudhir Mishra film "Hazaron Khwaishein Aisi" 2005

A spring in remembrance

2008-03-24T15:31:00.004+05:30

Without you, my love, I shall not find another
Who'll give peace to my soul and indulge me

I've gone and seen it all
America, Russia, Malaysia
There wasn't a difference
They all had a condition in forfiet

Some asked for my time
Some were fascinated with how I look
Some demanded my fidelity
But none wanted my demons

Besides you
No one else
Wanted my demons
Without you
No one else
Shall shade me in the sun

The way you waited a few moments I won't forget
I shan't forget all my life
When you said, looking away
"You shall weep in my memory"
I laughed a strange laugh
But you didn't
You had a secret in your heart
Why didn't you tell me

Without you
No one shall
Reveal this secret to me
Without you
What druid has the cure to my ills
Today I found a note of yours
In which you had scribbled
A Varis Shah couplet
Upon reading which a teardrop fell
What was locked in my eyes
Was revealed today

That these tears of mine
Will be kissed by no one else but you
That, till then these tears of mine
Will wither in the dust.

This author's translation of Rabbi Shergill's Tere Bin.

Through the roof top

2008-03-16T15:50:00.003+05:30

Anti-China protests have gone bloody with bad images on TV with the Beijing Olympics at the corner. Its even on Euronews...and now the Europeans are also concerned.

(pic. Miss Tibet 2004 Tashi Yangchen)

I have been with Tibetans and they are nice people, however there were a few issues which I found a bit unnerving and hard to imagine.
To get the fuller image of what 'atrocities' that China has committed on Tibet, I get the better picture here. China has built the Lhasa-Qinghai rail route which is the world's highest rail platform train. Chinese culture has so much to learn from, especially from their rich civilisations which have en-grained thousands of years of research and development. Though communism has its own negative points still China's growth rate been a sustainable above 10%. Every nation has shortcoming, but it depends on the administrators to take the right decisions.

Some segments of the media say that the Kingdom of Tibet was a free country in the past and no other country has a right to take over like this. However, my point is that the problem with Tibet is the ambiguation of international borders to be known as the TAR (Tibet Autonomous Region) since the CHinese invasion. There is one more argument to this point that some historians refer to Tibet as being a part of India. American movies have always made Villians out of China due to their own benefit and interests.

So as a citizen of India, whom do I believe or where do I go? Should I be just another by-stander in this whole issue which is creating waves across the world?

I read the book KORA
Its by Tenzing Tsundue.
He is the so-called flag bearer of protests in India
This guy calls himself as an Tibetan with an Indian heart. He stays in Dharamsala and also calls himself a Mumbaikar.
But still thats an emotional angle to things however when one looks at resolving international affairs one should take an administrative stand.
Only when china attacked these poor and peaceful people, they came to their senses and started shouting for independence.
what was happening before?
did no one try to proclaim anything about Tibet?
Don't you think that this is a false baseless war of loss of identity with the enemy being no one and themselves left to be blamed?

For instance, Lets consider myself as a tramp, a nomad.
I have no fixed address.
I roam the world and call it my home.
And I am "where I lay my head is home" types.
But do you think anybody will recognise me this way?
I need an ID, a permit, a visa, a nationality.

The time before China attacked, Tibetans were happy living like nomadic peaceful tribes I don't see anywhere that has mentioned Tibet as an independent nation though there is a mention of a kingdom. To that I have to say that India has had its own share of kingdoms which were deemed 'princely states' during the Raj. We have our own issues here.

Rules and laws are need to attain equilibrium from chaos, or else it would end in a way we see that its happening now. Tibetan administrators should have thought of it in ancient times. It would had protected the affected and the vulnerable.

There was a time when shangri-la was considered heaven, an obscure paradise
on earth. Decades later we discovered Tibet.

They should have voiced an independence claim for nationhood eons back
instead of now creating a fracas every now and then infront of the Chinese embassy in Delhi. More so, worsening matters when the Indo-Sino relations are just about to bloom and flourish. The bloodshed has already started. Thats a complete display of stupidity. The Holy Dalai Lama is but a crippled megalomaniac turned politician and Tsundue is a rockstar, climbing embassy floors with the Tibetan flag in hand to protest against visiting Chinese dignitaries. Is this monkey business going to create a solution when you are dealing with someone really powerful?

I was in Dharamsala, and there you will find Tibetans reluctant to speak properly with you as if it was their country and region. Interestingly their attitude towards expats are very friendly. Are they forgetting the fact that if India weren't to take a soft stand for Tibetans, they would not had succored refuge in any other country?
Inspite of all this way the circus and furore by these 'peaceful' people in Delhi which in itself is the capital of a country known for advocating peace and restraint?

(pic. - A serene Mcleodgunj street, at my visit a month ago)
You cant speak Hindi...or you show you can't,
You cant speak English or at least you show you can't,
and still you live as a free being in our country.
and you act like you are someone alien. Why this attitude?
Dharamsala is mini Tibet and in the beautiful heart of India.
There is another huge Tibetan camp in the world situated in Dharwar, Karnataka, with over 50,000 in population. Allow me to humour, would they become the new extended Kingdoms of Tibet?

Tsundue talks about torture on Tibetans by Chinese, like inserting of electric rods in vaginas of tibetan women. Now listening to that will I become an extremist like Tenzing?

If I were a Tibetan, I probably would have. Well these stories are definitely heartrending but then you should look at the problem more at the administrative level keeping in mind the psychological impacts. Like for instance, the major reason for the Abu Ghraib and Guatanamo Bay prison tortures by the American army was a direct repercussion of Bush's prolonged military regime in Iraq. Fresh American blood is turning crazy living in Iraq dust for almost a decade now.

Finally I would just like to say that when you can't protect your identity in your own country...then I don't believe it is any use to cry hoarse under the belly of the beast.
This is all that I have to collate to all my known and unknown Tibetan friends.

A prayer in spiritual replenishment

2008-03-14T18:49:00.005+05:30

Vexation of spirit is a waste of time
Negative thinking is a waste of thought
Verbal conflict is a waste of word
Physical conflict is a waste of flesh

People will always be who they want
And that's what really makes the world go round
Unconditional love is scarce
Now and forever more
Forever more, forever more...

You've always been good to me
Even when I'm not good to myself
You've always been fair to me
Even when I'm not fair to myself
You've always done right by me
So I will do right by you...

You see, you've always had faith in me
And so I'll have faith in you
You've always been there for me
And so I'll be there for you...

Bless your eyes and may your days be long
Bless your eyes and may your dreams come true
May you rise on the morning when the kingdom come
Good deeds aren't remembered in the hearts of men.

- Damian Jr. Gong Marley

Faith No More

2007-11-19T10:33:00.000+05:30

My

life

to

live,

Is

Not

a Fad!

.

Troubled waters

2007-09-07T17:15:00.000+05:30

Voice from an elven realm: I am all over his blog...(laughs)

Another embellishment. Another trophy. Another day soon enough?

And I took the long route...

2007-09-07T16:55:00.000+05:30

I took the bus for a long route, after a long time. I remember making my way through the BEST and the EMU and then again the BEST to school. By the time I was in the 3rd grade, Ma preferred me going to the school by public transport and struck my name off the school bus list.

Yesterday I took the BEST again. I was travelling to work from Versova to Worli. I took the empty bus and found myself by an empty window with a not-so-empty mind. This mode of transport has been long since obliterated from my rules books. Apprehensive and a bit daft, I tried to find my voice when the ticket conductor threw a questioning glance at me. The empty bus rolled out of Yari Road Bus Depot and I was by now pretty pleased of my rationale which worked this way.

"Everyday I do three modes of transport to reach work, and that takes me approximately an hour's time door-to-door not ignoring the lag time in watching people pounce on my cabbie, and plunge into the local trains and yet again pounce on rickshaws. I have seen people beg and bow with hands joined in sincere earnestness towards the rickshaw driver/ cabbie to take them into the joyride to their respective dogmatick heavens. I am but a silent spectator over the sheep trying to be orderly in this chaos. I just sight the nearest traffick cop stand and speak a little local slang to impress them and that takes care of me getting a cab or a rickshaw without all the customary haggling - All this and more in one hours time, between home and office.

However with the new gameplan, I would take only a single mode of transport – BEST. Throw in half an hour more of road travel, I would be succoured of all the pains of changing vehicles and all the gymnasticks behind it. So there I was in the bus, book in hand, and the throb of the engine underneath my seat, chugging towards my place of work. (BESTs actually chug!)”

I passed the Versova fishing village, Yari road sea front, then Versova Road Seaside, then the route was pretty boring after that, not worth mentioning. I am tired of describing the route and the mechanism of a great masterminded move. Sorry to break the non-existent momentum, however when I passed through the scourges of sea facing shanties and the people around, unlike Shantaram who found them smiling and happy – for me this was the underbelly of Mumbai. Crime, murk, garbage, naked kids with rickets, gold laden fisherfolk, in general people living in their own shit and who don’t give a shit to anything. There is this place when the bus turned towards called “Khar Danda” which I had seen on signboards but had no clue of. Now this place was more evil than what I had gone through the task of a journey till now. Khar Danda had all the above mentioned iniquities coupled with more weather beaten gruesome-looking seamen laden with more gold all over their ears, and neck and hands and shanks. Even the sea here, reminded me of the abominable shoreline footage from “The Ring”. Scraggy and rugged full of rocks, the view changed into an approaching Carter Road and Jogger’s Park. There was an absolute metamorphosis of ambience within a span of a couple of meters. There were machines cleaning mud off the road, municipal sweepers trimming and hacking the ornamental hedges for the divider. ‘No speeding’ signboards further claimed that this zone is prone to the urbane vanities of super-adrenaline-driven-road-blazer. There were homes neat and lavish in view opposite to the mangrove lines and though the place still smelt of dead fish, there were adolescents and adults trying to be at their adolescent-best flaunting assets of their own layered upon with the world’s best designer labels. By now I was absolutely unconvinced by the starkness of the pictures which were a few meters back. I don’t want to get into chauvinistic talks of rich and the poor, the haves and the haven’ts.

I am just dazed by the rude contrasts of urban life.
The bus took me 3 hours to reach work, a stipulated 2 hours overboard of my masterminded move towards commuting comfort.

A room with a view...

2007-08-25T15:08:00.000+05:30

I have moved near to the sea.

It's good waking up to an euphoric view,
in this claustrophobic city.
Sometimes facing the surf on a squally day,
I stick my tongue out to feel the salt.

No one, but me knows what or whom am I thinking of.
No one ought to know. No one will ever know.

This space is not meant for pass-over dreams.
Now I feel like a bubble-gummed bubblehead.
And lack of the other one.

Blind Tasting Slussions!

2007-08-25T14:27:00.000+05:30

Have been through quite a few of them, enough to write about.

In contradicktion to my earlier state-ment of mind, I would like to write something here. A feeling of performance anxiety is the last thing one has in his mind for such spaces!

Okies, every tasting session starts with a healthy sophisticated presentation of the blends tagged Blend 'A', 'B', 'C'...etc. and on a very sober note and sombre looking people performing a class act of holding, tilting and swirling glasses.

Sight is the first exercise of the drink in the glass. In India we do not compare a blend like the French or the Scots. ‘The colour of sunset', 'blossoms flowing from a maiden's hair', etc...Here we say clear, dull, muddy or brilliant. Brilliant! Next comes the nose - smell.

Take a dip into the glass. Come out with the aromas stinging the inner walls of your nostrils. Oaky/ woody, nail varnish, caramel? Fruity? Floral?....again no poetry please. Please...I want my palate to feel the concoction...lyrical regurgitation on an observation sheet is for the French. Woody and Peppery!

Good, a sip atlast! Chew the liquid, chew it…says the expert...gargle, roll the fluid, do all sorts of mime tricks till you understand what personalities the drink carries on taste. Never waste. Let the French spit it out into the bucket. We swallow the whole nip. Hmm...

Now to Sample B. Get over here baby.

7 or 8 samples later...

The air in the room has changed. The room has become noisier, boisterous to the brim! Sombre faces which were taut with apprehensions are now jolly good red with mutual bonhomie. Everyone is happy. Some are slurry. Comments on the drinks – still classified – are received with bigger laughter. Intricate observations follow.

How does this one smell? Dip Sniff Soar – I say MELONS!

The expert beams upon me. Bravo – right word…this one has a bouquet of melons!

I suddenly couldn't resist, lest for a more perfect timing. So I utter “Big Juicy Melons!”

Room resonates with spine splitting squeals.

Hostile Acquisition of Space

2007-08-25T14:21:00.000+05:30

I haven't been here since long. I do not intend to write anymore.

I am just trying my last hand at it.

Nupe...I can't write here.

I bet mindfields are cool.

A Li'l More Conversation...

2007-06-15T13:15:00.000+05:30

One of the most frequent things you do in life is to 'miss'.

Well, let me share those thoughts, bugs and sparks with all ye matey’s!!!

Miss, I miss you. I miss her too.
I miss the morning mist, I miss the dew.

However what's never amiss...is to miss.

I miss infant joys.
I miss my childhood laughter. I miss my mother’s caring lap.
I miss my convent, I miss kiddie friends whose faces I barely remember.

I miss my bicycle, I miss the tramping track.
I miss my father’s jokes that he used to crack.

I miss the lazy chats, on reed mats in searing summers.
I miss innocent winters and dry leaves of heather.

I miss the April storms as the rain-clouds gather.
I miss watching them and enjoy being sadder.

Sometimes I miss God. I believe I miss Satan too.

I miss all that is real and above all I miss you.

A Li'l Less Conversation...

2007-06-15T13:07:00.000+05:30

She: Shite! someone just asked "me" if "I" were a feminist and I am wondering what makes ppl "jump to conclusions" or just be pure "judgemental" as if they are born to categorise the whole world.

Me: Well lemme tell you whosoever asked that...surely wants to start up a conversation with you and that was lame...I'll tell you of that person, 'coz he/ she is trying too hard...hehehe

She: my colleague yaar... she doesn’t need reasons to strike a conversation

Me: oh well why did you ask me if I were one?

She: a common friend posted in her orkut that she's a lesbian... so we had a lil debate over that

Me: Oh I see

She: and by end of it.. she tells me.. "are u a feminist"... more tellin me rather than asking, infact and then moralist... bugger asshole

Me: well I got an interesting theory then

one who is a feminist basically is a lover of human beings

because he/ she is actually tiffing over a specie

even Hitler contradickted himself

by being a specie lover...more lover than hater!

She: hmmm

Me: so you can tell your friend that you are and you aint a feminist at the same time

human beings love to tag

they have taught the computers to do that so well

She: i wonder..

is it but natural happiness for humans to tag other ppl.

Me: now when the IT/ cyberworld is more neat and tidy than humans as they are outclassing their conceivers...its getting difficult for humans to maintain their fastidiousness.

you see what I mean?

She: ya rite

Me: humans tag but can’t stick to it

coz they are still humans and way superior than machines

that’s why I have another theory…

Hate machines

but forgive humans!!

She: hmmm.. to err is to human

Me: EXACTLY my dear!

Machines were designed to behave in a particular manner

humans weren’t

She: well I think humans behave more like machines off late

and trying their best to have the best technology,

but also behave as humanist as possible!

Me: humanist!

now that’s another tag

have you heard something called as misanthropist?

and agoraphobic?

well I am a bit of the first

and a lil of the last

a lil coz if I say I AM A misanthropist then I would be talking like a fool rite?

'coz then I shouldn't be talking to you or any one else for that matter!

Reign in Wine

2007-06-01T12:58:00.000+05:30

Working at a vintner's corporate office is really cool. Especially when people look upon you as being a part of a genteel culture which invariably evokes admiring expressions on their faces. Well, I am no big connoisseur of wine; however I have had my own moments of glory. Tasting sessions, a walk through the vineyards, looking up world-renowned quality grapes up close, wine-nosing through cellars, and getting a heady trip out of walking in the sweet aroma of the winery, getting a headier trip out throwing varietal and wine names to an unsuspecting audience – all of the French elite jazz. I mean its good pristine fun and a sense of general human evolved-ness. It feels nice to distinct a Chardonnay from a Chenin Blanc or a Cabernet Sauvignon from a Merlot just by a blind taste. Its sheer foreplay you see.

Now that the mega wine fest is finally rolling due to some real back-breaking, relentless work by Madame Anushree and Monsieur Vivek, I am really happy how the agency has added great colours and look to my invitation write-up, as well. I always felt, the girl from the agency had an aura, a magnetic one too. I remember her eyes lighting up at the mention of the wine induced hedonistic grand plans for the festival, possibly one of the biggest and the costliest in India too. The fest promises to rain wines before the monsoon does, not in little goblets but by the tumbler!

This is whence Demonos quoth...
...“Here is where Bacchus overpowers the rain gods!”

Zeus holding infant Dionysus

Factoid:

Jim Morrison, was often compared himself (as well as by others) to Dionysus. Similarities between Morrison and Dionysus include love of song, wine, women, and a sense of poetry. Dionysus ended up becoming one of Morrison's nicknames.

Santé!

.

Staring at the sun: Analogy

2007-05-25T14:38:00.000+05:30

There was a story going around in the 60's that a group of California university students were so high on LSD that they were staring at the sun while laying on a grassy hill for several hours that it didn't bother them but in fact burnt part of their retina and could not see anything closely. They also held religious conversations with god while under the influence.This story has never been proven and actual names were never given.

Bono is probably relating his own trip with the students who were sprawled out on the grass for hours. His description is almost identical to the mythical articles on the California university students. I would take the the song quite literally. "Those who can't do" are the teachers or the people who set our morals in society who create these myths to scare people out of using drugs or to be introspective and question what is accepted as truth or right. Are they afraid of what they find when they look inside of themselves? Bono says these people (government/military state) is still in town or in control. Its not so obvious as they are disguised in suits and ties. Daddy (government) won't leave you alone. "I'm nearly great but there's something missing" = Grandiosity is a symptom of such trips. "I left it in the Duty free" = [airplane] "trips" may be taken literally. Its not really him as its an effect of the drug. He's not sucking on his thumb. He's not a baby he can do what he wants and if that means destroying his retina so be it. Could this be an anti-drug message?

Plato then relates truth and the search for enlightenment to the analogy of the cave and how humans are easily deceived and persuaded to believe in what the perceive and are not open to new ideas if they are offered outright. But knowledge can be taught in degrees to gradually allow the soul to become accustomed to the "light" of truth from the Sun. Staring at the Sun captures this idea of Plato's teaching.

~don't try to hard to think dont think at all~

Humans are not willing to think to reach their conclusions, they believe only what they see.

~there's an insect in your ear/if you scratch it won't disappear~

In the cave analogy there are voices that the people hear that they can't understand where they come from. They don't go away.

~I'm not the only one Staring at the sun~

There are actually other people that are teaching this person about the truth of the Sun.

~Afraid of what you'll find, if you step back inside~

The thought of going back in the cave to teach the people about the light of truth is frightening and afraid that they will be killed if they go back inside.

~Not just deaf and dumb, staring at the sun, Not the only one who's happy to go blind~

This is happiness due to the discovery of what real truth is. The brightness of the sun is blinding at first but soon they see the good of the light (truth) and are happy to go blind, staring at the truth.

Staring at the Sun

Summer streching on the grass... summer dresses pass
in the shade of a willow tree creeps a crawling over me
over me and over you stuck together with God's glue
it's going to get stickier too...
it's been a long hot summer
let's get undercover
don't try too hard to think... don't think at all

I'm not the only one starin' at the sun
afraid of what you'd find if you took a look inside
not just deaf and dumb I'm staring at the sun
not the only one who's happy to go blind

there's an insect in your ear if you scratch it won't disappear
it's gonna itch and burn and sting
do you want to see what the scratching brings
waves that leave me out of reach
breaking on your back like a beach
will we ever live in peace?
'cause those that can't do often have to
those that can't do often have to... preach.

to the ones staring at the sun...
afraid of what you'll find if you took a look inside
not just deaf and dumb... staring at the sun
I'm not the only one who'd rather go blind.

intransigence is all around... military still in town
armour plated suits and ties... daddy just won't say goodbye
referee won't flow the whistle God is good but will HE listen
I'm nearly great
but there's something I'm missing I left in the duty free
though you never really belonged to me

you're not the only one starin' at the sun
afraid of what you'd find if you stepped back inside
I'm not sucking my thumb I'm staring at the sun
not the only one who's happy to go blind...

From the U2 Album Pop (released in 1997)

Dulce Et Decorum Est

2007-05-14T12:47:00.000+05:30

"It is sweet and right"

Life is insane, simple, chaotic, static. And it’s all good.

Or is it?

Now, this would not be one of those esoteric faff-infested explanations on life. No more pseudo-spiritual/ intellectual trips which land you down hard knocking the shit our of your bottom bags of organic waste.
Arise, Awake!!!

Can't you see what life is doing to you?
Now that your eyes are wide open,
Why don't you give something back in return, and not give-in!

The seeker trails on for answers.
Dig, collect, discover and move on.
It is so beautiful.

Don't let your skills waste.
Don't let your thoughts loom.

Patil is very subtle over his gutkha spitting habits.
Banerjee, you can save your energy over tax payments.

Big cities are the worst and the best places to live when it comes to a totally consumed mind.
Consumed by who else, but life of course! You clamour for space and also for some company. Sometimes you get both, the other times you get some. But you are never left alone.
Well on that note, villages can be very self-destructive.
However it leans a lot on the amount of strain one’s head can handle.

Death is very real. More real than life. It is the undeniable truth.
I believe one should die more often, no…not out of cowardice.
(Cowards die many deaths in a lifetime...some moral science feed, this!)

In fact one has to be brave enough to die enough, isn't it?
One should die many deaths to be alive, it is like a makeover. A makeover of the inner self. With which you gather enough strength to rule.
You see, I am trying hard not to tread on to the path of pseudo-intellectuality all over again.

This post is far from intellectual. Chuckles to himself.

Peace, Love, Idleness!

War, Strength, Elitism…\m/

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Floateria

2007-04-30T00:28:00.000+05:30

Many a times I have felt that the safest and belonged of all places is the bath. When I was a child I remember, I used to look at the huge mirror at the wall opposite to the shower, and perform many an enthralling performances from movies, or just imitate the Holy Cross High schoolbus driver or play imaginary games with imaginary elves with pointed ears. Enid Blyton fan that I was.

As time flew by, Oscar-winning performances turned into Grammy's! I was singing aloud. Now I was doing that on a professional level under the shower. Steven Tyler, Eddie Vedder, James Hetfield, Axl Rose, Sebastian Bach, titillated an imaginary audience with their great voices and air guitars. Sometimes mom used to give a stern rap at the bathroom door and warn me that I have been inside for almost more than half an hour. There used to be water all around. On the ceiling, on the mirror, on the magazine rack...everywhere! That was because of my vigourously gyrating 'stage antics'.

With passage of time, as I went deeper into real performances at colleges and pubs, and getting deeper into extreme metal, I was into 360 deg. headbanging. Meaning, the head full of hair and all, is supposed to be swirled round and round like a man possessed by the devil himself! That proved a little risky sometimes because of disorientation. The slippery soapy tiles beneath you are treacherous. I have fallen down on my butt and other places, many a times thrown to some corner, swung around by imaginary moshing fans and even bodysurfed my way to the shower faucet in order to stop the deluge. I had numerous blacks and blues on me along with crinkled skin on my fingers by the time I stepped out of the steaming bathroom.

Definitely this is not a solitary experience. I am sure many of us still have a lot of pending performances yet, maybe your best is still to come. However, I have had my share of the shower(lime)light. I mean most of my tile breaking performances are lost in the steam of the geyser. Sometimes Still when I look at me at the mirror, the reflection in retrospect questions. The face I look at is dissatisfied, not being able to perform anymore. It is weatherbeaten and old making the best of basking in some past glory. Purpose, job, relations, self, questions, posts, faces, meanings, , , ..... all whiz my head. Million thoughts passing in the mind in one millionth of a second. Like slices of melon being squashed in the blender.

Performances gone, though I yearn for those days. Nevertheless, the shower still gives me the freedom and inertness from the outside. You become one with the crystalline elemental water. As water flows from the scruff of the neck and downwards. Gone are the efforts to feel weightlessness. Breathing is more lucid. The lump in your heart and throat is gone.

It is next to the brief stay which I had in the womb. It is my own floateria, my isolation room.

Daughter

2007-04-28T17:41:00.000+05:30

Working on a script on these lines...beautiful song too.

Alone...listless...breakfast table in an otherwise empty room
Young girl...violins...center of her own attention
The mother reads aloud, child, tries to understand it
Tries to make her proud

The shades go down, its in her head
Painted room...can't deny there's something wrong...

Don't call me daughter, not fit to
The picture kept will remind me
Don't call me daughter, not fit to
The picture kept will remind me
Don't call me...

She holds the hand that holds her down
She will...rise above...

The shades go down...the shades go......

Wish me good!
:)

Pearl Jam - Vs (1993)

Tottering sidewalks, Little pink shoes and Freewill

2007-04-28T17:30:00.000+05:30

Real, man, real.
You know?
Real.

You! have to be real. Your room has to be real. Your friends have to be real.You're more important than all the silly machinery. Silly machinery?!!!

And you know it! In eleven years its going to be 2018, man.
Think about that!

I Wanna see you feed a mouse to my pet snake, Now that's real! I am only interested in what is real. Real people, real feelings, that's it, that's all I'm interested in.

Courtsey: Russell Dumond, Still Water.

A Sonnet

2007-04-22T11:58:00.000+05:30

My rendition of 'Bawra Mann' by Swanand Kirkire from the Sudhir Mishra film "Hazaron Khwaishein Aisi" 2005

Metal: A Headbanger's Journey

2007-04-19T16:37:00.001+05:30

On the advent of Sam Dunn's second film GLOBAL METAL: 7 Countries. 3 Continents. 1 Tribe, with now distintive self-styled filming of bands and fans, this repost would definitely try to arouse the mutual feeling of anticipation and and excitment for any metal fan across the world. Aptly subheaded as ONE TRIBE!

Finally the thing that I was waiting for, to take me off recipes. This movie is a tribute to metal; right from early classick roots to the genre-wise tracking of a sound growing heavier and intense each passing decade. A master documentary cut by the most original and real metal head I have ever come across - Samuel Dunn. An anthropologist by education, Dunn makes a likable companion in our journey through the metal underground, meeting some of the biggest stars of the genre on the way.

What makes things really exciting, is the fact that Dunn had chosen India amongst the countries to feature in his sophomore effort which is due. He was here to cover a few Indian metal bands as well as his old time favourites Iron Maiden headlining at Bangalore this year.

A head banger's journey starts off by examining Metal's roots with the long debate in regards to who was the first Metal band ever. Then, we are taken through an analysis of how metal sub-genres came to exist. Dunn also gives his thoughts about Metal's culture, viewpoints, religious standpoints, the fans and every other aspect of metal. Some of the veterans of the scene as well as some insightful outsiders give their interesting opinions to support the argument at hand. The film balances the serious aspects of Metal with some unintentional humor. Personalities like Alice Cooper, Bruce Dickinson, Alex Webster, Slipknot, Ghaal, Dee Snider, Doro, Ihsahn and many others offer their own individual thoughts in an intellectual way while bands like Mayhem make a fool out of themselves during a drunken interview.

The structure of the film follows life's most provocative subjects - Censorship, Sexuality, Death & Violence, and more. Each area is thoughtfully explored with comments from many musicians and some outside observers. From the calm commentary of Rob Zombie to the wry humour of Dio.

The most amazing moment of the film is when Dee Snider of Twisted Sister walks in the courtroom to testify; clad in hair apparent, torn jeans, ripped jacket in a room full of bureaucrats and beholders of moralistic jurisdicktion headed by Tipper Gore, wife of Al Gore, circa 1984. She had run a crusade against metal during those times. And Dee in sheer deliberation pulls out his "speech" of a testimonial reads out loud for the courtroon. It was politically neat and sent sarcastic pinches for Ms. Gore while the men in suits are visually shaken with uneasy tweaks and turns all around.

There are funny moments where Alice Cooper claims to be the first one, whose music was coined as the term Heavy Metal. Then further in the course of the film he reassures that it was shock rock!

The spine chilling and appalling moment for me was when Dunn interviews Gaahl from Gorgoroth. And this behemoth of a Black Metal frontman sips his wine, pauses and with a near statue-like gaze he says "Satan", with a deep drowning voice and goes ahead to support church burnings with stark contempt towards the church.

Dunn is a true metal head. The documentary is extremely entertaining and informative. It made me proud to be a metal head. It even made me give bands I'm not too fond of another chance. Bottom line is, if you're a Metal fan you'll enjoy this from beginning to end. If you're a curious outsider, here's your chance to understand our world better and get a more defined opinion of our music. And even if you don't, well to quote Dunn at the end: "We're doing just fine without you…"

Offshore

2007-04-16T23:19:00.000+05:30

I am back with you, my love. At one with your gentle froth and foam. You come playfully touch and go; and how you tickle me? There are pebbles at your shore. I am collecting the flat ones, because they resemble some cell phone. I'll throw some back at you. I see you rise and fall, while I stare, your warmth is in your spray, saline and loving. The sea gulls did tell you this cold morning that I would be coming to see you! You do look ecstatic. I see that your mighty arms have formed rivulets with the tide and they are streaming towards inland searching for a home maybe in some backwaters. I dare not go back lest you feel everyone betrays you. I won't. You are my dope, my stash, my ecstasy and the world enquires "what are you on these days?" Little ignorant ones. Now I see you playing your tricks again, who is she? In pristine flowing white with the wind, is she an angel, a mermaid, or just merry. Ah! you play your tricks upon me again. Your sand kisses me as I roll down the slope towards you. I promise I will take the free fall off the cliff soon someday to be in your arms forever. I know you have a wonderful bed waiting for me, as I lay my tired self to rest on your bosom. You fill my heart with joy. I don't need gills. I don't need to breathe.

You seem to be in your mood swings today, guess the moon is doing things to you. Worry not as I ride your waves alongside the dolphins. So many times I have walked towards you only to be ruthlessly thrown back. This planet knows not our worth. You are rising, the Senate knows that. I trust no one, but you. I know you will take me by the arm and entwine in a divine embrace. I marvel at your ability to be self enthused. You do not require renaissance. You shimmer like a thousand gems at me so that I don't get bored. I won't, neither would you. I can sit and gaze here as the planet goes through its customary revolutions and rotations. We all move in circles around one glowering fascination that catches our eye. I love the revolutions. They bring seasons. Cold still winters and bustling summers. But what I like the most is when you have a gloomy blue gray above with a hint of lightening at the horizon to glorify your beauty. Those are the times when I feel the vastness of your macrocosm. But here I am quoting someone else...I am just collecting pebbles by your shore. I will throw some back to you.

Timpano

2007-04-11T18:45:00.000+05:30

If anybody has come across the beautiful great little film "Big Night" then this post will make a lot of sense. This is a recipe of painstakingly devoted gastronomic perseverance. And how well has the tenacity been portrayed by Primo's character. Infact this dish casued quite a stir in the late 90s following the culinary relish filmed passionately in "Big Night". Mind you, it is a tiring and a terrifying process to make the right Timpano. However the ultimate reward is when you hear orgasmic savoury gasps from all around, after the chef-d'oeuvre has been served.

Presenting the glorious "Timpano de Maccheroni"

Ingredients:
10" or 12" springform baking pan, preferably teflon

two sheets puff pastry, either home made or commercial

MEATBALLS: assemble ingredients into one long meat ball or loaf, which makes it easier to slice and fit in the timpano
3/4 lb ground meat, beef, veal, or pork
1/2 cup bread crumbs
3 eggs
3 cloves chopped garlic
4 TBSP chopped parsley
1/2 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese
salt and pepper to taste
Preparation: mix together, shape into a meatloaf, and bake at 450 for 1/2 hour; slice into 1/4 or 1/2" when cool

SAUSAGE: Use at least two kinds of sausage, such as Italian sausage with fennel, pheasant sausage, etc.; need a total of eight links
Preparation: bake until cooked through at 450 for at least 1/2 hour; slice into 1/4 or 1/2" slices when cool

CHICKEN: 2 whole breasts, cut in half
Preparation: Season with salt, pepper, olive oil, and fresh herbs such as rosemery and sage; brush with olive oil; grill on both sides until done; slice into 1/4 or 1/2" slices when cool.

VEGETABLES: 1 medium eggplant, 2 large red peppers, 1 medium zucchini, 3 medium potatoes, 2 cups canned Italian plum tomatoes

Preparation: slice eggplant 1/4", core and flatten the peppers, cut the zucchini 1/4" lengthwise: brush the vegetables with olive oil, salt and pepper to taste, and grill.
Blacken peppers and peel skin.
Boil potatoes, let cool, slice into 1/4 ", and season with oil and herbs if desired.
Crush tomatoes, add 3 TBSP olive oil, 2 cloves minced garlic, fresh parsley and basil to taste. Important: you will not use all the sauce in the timpano, use sparingly!

PASTA: 1 lb cooked pasta, a flat pasta such as farfalle or lasagne works best.
Preparation: Cook to al dente,in plenty of water with 2 TBSP salt; drain, rinse with cool water, dress with a little olive oil to prevent sticking.

CHEESE: 1/2 cup grated mozzarella, 1/2 cup grated Pecorino Romano; cheeses may be substitued with Fontina, Fontinella, parmigiana or other Italian cheeses.

Directions:
All ingredients should be prepared ahead and at room temperature.
Thaw pastry crust and dust with a little flour.
Butter the inside of the springform pan.
Remove the bottom and cut the dough to fit the round; cut a second round 1/2" larger than the round for the top. Reassemble spring form pan, cover the bottom with cut dough, cut strips of remaining dough to fit side, seal side edges to bottom dough and egg wash the edges.

Arrange the ingredients in layers beginning with the pasta, leaving no spaces in each layer. Spoon a little bit of the sauce and cheese,follow with layer of meatloaf. Use your imagination when layering and vary the layers for color and texture. Make sure to include a layer of pasta half way up to help absorb the liquid and facilitate a firm internal texture. The final layer should be pasta with a little tomato sauce and cheese.

Cover with the remaining round and seal the edges inwards. Do not extend edges beyond rim of pan. Seal the top inside edges so that they do not open when the sides are removed. Cut a vent hole and decorate with leftover scraps of pastry dough.

Brush with eggwash and bake at 400 for about 45 minutes and browned. let stand for at least 30 minutes. Remove the sides, cut in generous slices, and serve the remaining tomato sauce around the timpano.

The word Timpano is actually a regional or family use of the term Timballo in Italian or Timbale in French if you wish to look for other recipes in cookbooks.

Finally this post would be incomplete without the mention of Anthony Bourdain.
He is the "industry of cool" when it comes to travelling cooks. He makes every corner of the world and its food, phenomenal...which actually is! Be it eating a throbbing cobra heart at Thailand or having ox-meat at Baluchistan, snake wine at Vietnam or seal meat in the Tundra! Ok he is not a freak, though an ex-heroin "i am outta it" gringo. However he also has sane food at sane places with suave people around. The best part of his show "No Reservations" is they actually show the host smoking a cigarette!!! He needs it definitely. Specially when the plot is thick and the pan is brimming. ;)

Inner Silence

2007-04-11T15:02:00.000+05:30

When the silence beckons
And the day draws to a close

When the light of your life...sighs
And love dies in your eyes

Only then will I realize
What you mean to me...

Such a...Such a pristine immaculate song on death of love and a sudden arrest of faith in life's isolation by Anathema - Alternative 4 (1998)

Thus spake Demonos II...-|-...In Remembrance...-|-

2007-04-11T12:54:00.000+05:30

I was not put here by anyone in fear, I came alone as me.
Just an idea in a long chain of discovery surrounded by the same you. Sometimes your tide pulls me out to sea and I die in a thrashing curse. So far up the beach that those who try to reach are burnt alive in the searing heat of the desert of my dispassion. So far removed, I never hear the water, but I long to. And I refuse to believe in some of the things that are said to be here. Let alone those that are not, I'm trying to change my direction and yes...Ours is pathetic in my own humble estimation.

I love the planet. The great benign she-wolf. Benefactor. Spinning gently on towards the red giant, and four aeons hence when all the rose gardens are consumed in the flash-fire of flying time.
She'll leave you alone, to you.

I thought I felt you jump out of my skin, throwing oil into my blazing memories. But when the winds blow from this direction you may sense that I'm in your reflection. You move your body and your whispers weave as the world spins. It tells me that I'll never want to leave. Gradually I think I feel you but I will never know, as the days leave and the centuries grow.

As I think of you from this dark century I will always be with 'benign' curiosity and doubt that we both may share and hope in vain that we're not just disappearing spirits. One-up-manship when it comes to intellectual competency? How futile! So the little time, that your crystal eyes gazed into mine, was what intellectual competencies cannot fathom. I behold a burning flame, forever dreaming....dreaming a lie!

I am trapped inside internal eyes and caressed by innocence is a sanctuary which I built for your mind, beneath a pale sardonic sky. One love, one sorrow and an undying affection for life. Finally I walk away from the flames. I've found a way to erase the pain - A guardian angel called escape.

I don't dwell on the forthcoming. However you will know, when I'm gone, you'll hear my cries in the wind.

^|^|^|^Soulful, Wistful, Listless ^|^|^|^

2007-04-02T16:10:00.000+05:30

I was smitten. It was such a rollercoaster. The sea does things to me. And she was the mermaid beckoning me towards her. Her voice still rings in my ears. I have no idea when would I see her again. There is no rationale when there is love. Then the only reason for every alibi is to Be Together. It feels great when endorphins react and leave you unreasoningly fixated. And when it happens, it’s absolute, in totality. Bad hair, bad breathe, bad acts, bad food and booze, do not matter anymore. The only desire left is to BE there.

I presume that many of us have been ‘under the influence’ of endorphin and when we are no more ‘wise enough to be wise’. All that matters, is to render every possible way of bliss for the One. You surprise yourself again and again by reaching a point where there is a dearth of conditionality. You relish every moment walking hand in hand, past an unfamiliar city which succumbs to be just a backdrop. You fly from tree to tree, branch to branch, one city jaunt to the other and wish there was no tomorrow! You feel the presence of your beautiful souls floating in the ether of a shared cosiness.

When tomorrow engulfs you in its void, you either plunge in a sense of extreme loss or rise in the redemption of true love.

The more I see the less I know..
The more I like to let it go…

The present is a dream to me. These moments are precious to me more than a thousand years put together. They will leave me nurtured and cared, belonged and intoxicated. Somebody please don’t wake me ‘coz I am sleeping the sleep of angels.

..........Space, Abundance, Isolation...

2007-04-01T23:53:00.000+05:30

Is all I need... In remembrance of my 27th year of existance ...Here's Jimi Hendrix's infamous rendition on loneliness

Burning of the Midnight Lamp
The morning is dead
And the day is too
There's nothing left here to greet me
But the velvet moon
All my loneliness
I have felt today
It's a little more than enough
To make a man throw himself away
And I continue
To burn the midnight lamp
Alone

Now the smiling portrait of you
Is still hangin' on my frowning wall
It really doesn't really doesn't bother me too much at all
It's just the, uh, ever falling dust
That makes it so hard for me to see
That forgotten ear-ring laying on the floor
Facing coldly toward the door
And I continue
To burn the midnight lamp
All alone

Burn
Lonely lonely, yeah
Lonely lonely lonely
Loneliness is such a, drag

So here I sit to face
That same old fire place
Gettin' ready for the same old explosion
Goin' through my mind
And soon enough time will tell
About the circus and the wishing well
And someone who will buy and sell for me
Someone who will toll my bell
And i continue to burn the midnight lamp
Alone

Darlin' do you hear me callin' you
So lonely
Lonely!

The night was long...

2007-03-28T11:22:00.000+05:30

Dear ***,
I feel weary today. But it is a nice stretchy feeling. You know, a feeling of such sorts arises out of a sense of sublime satisfaction after something. Last night I just did that. No not that, OBVIOUSLY!

You know girl, I couldn't meet you on Sunday. I have my own bag of troubles which was heavier that evening. Last night however when I called you a million, zillion, gazillion times, and by this time, I even have a recorded electronic voice travelling in the back of my head, "Tamay je number sampark sadhvanuche....is switched off or out of coverage area!" It went on and on and on and on. And on and on and on and on. But I am not the one to give up something so cherished on such an easy note.

The words I gathered since you landed in Mumbai, were " I am somewhere at NCPA...free today but not tomorrow...Lakme Fashion Show begins...launch party....Bastard....I'm on roaming!" So much for a courtsey call.

Last night I thought of 'gatecrashing' at the show as giving you a sweet surprise at NCPA. Good friends of Lakme. We start on an enthusiastic roar after an invigourating drink. Let the frenetic search begin!

NCPA was haunting at 11 o'clock in the night. I could see grand silhouettes of pink and red backdrops for the show being installed, however there was no humdrum of a ramp, neither could I see any melee of fashionistas. Duh.. I went to some people who seem to be event executives, they had no idea of a pre-launch party. I call again. Recorded voice.

Then we check Cafe Sidewok by the NCPA. Reassured by the security of rare possibility of a launch party, and dejected already, we thought of taking a walk at Marive Drive. But somewhere in my mind I knew I had to try more. So we took a cab to Cafe Mondegar. Checked the place inside out. The manager suggested to try Leopolds'. I looked out for that familiar face which I had never seen in flesh and blood. I was waiting for a glimpse of the brilliant gleam of your eyes and the wisp of your curls to hit me out from the crowd. Phew! Wasn't of any avail. Where are you ***? How stupid of you to put your only means of communication, off! How stupid of me to not meet you till now!

We head off towards Colaba, and think of all the possible places you might be on a weekday, that too at the start of the week! Privee? Khyber?, JAzz by the Bay?....Maybe Tavern! We ask our cabbie to wait outside Tavern. I walk in and walk out. They were showing the Pink Floyd anthem on the large screen and people still had the head to sway to the number played innumerous times since decades. Well Vivek had suggested to check the Terrace Bar at the Strand Hotel. I pretty much liked the place when I reached the top where I could see the glam-lit Mumbai skyline as gentle waves struck the jettied boats bobbing by the Drive. The night was humid and the air was heavy, four floors above the sea.

We thought of catching up with a refresher drink. It was way past 1 o'clock already as we talked on things like intellectual stimulus, and how intellectual spriritualism is a better way to escape rather than spiritual practice, itself. (That's a whole new spectrum altogether ...another chapter). For a moment I thought I was not calling you anymore. You might be asleep by now tucked in a cosy corner somewhere in the buildings around me. :) So I might as well let you sleep, as I did not want to disturb the recorded voice on your phone service. You got a long week ahead. I had a long night, last night. Take Good Care.

My call and my self could not reach you. By the time you read this, you would be away, already.

Love,
***.

............Dangling Ocean Jetty Legs

2007-03-24T16:22:00.000+05:30

All alone not by myself
Another girl bad for my health
I've seen it all through someone else
And I (love a girl bad for my health)

Celebrated but undisturbed
And serenaded by the terror bird
It's seldom seen and its never heard
I'm (serenaded by the terror bird)

Never in the wrong time or wrong place
Desecration is the smile on my face
The love I made is the shape of my space
My face, my face

Disintegrated by the rising sun
A rolling black out of oblivion
And I'd like to think that I'm your number one
(I'm rolling black out of oblivion)

I wanna leave but I just get stuck
A broken record runnin' low on luck
There's heavy metal coming from your truck
And I'm (a broken record running low on luck)

Never in the wrong time or wrong place
Desecration is the smile on my face
The love I made is the shape of my space
My face, my face

We could all go down to Malibu and make some noise
Coca Cola doesn't do the justice she enjoys
We could all come up with something new to be destroyed
We could all go down

I love the feeling when it falls apart
I'm slow to finish but I'm quick to start and
Beneath the heather lies the meadowlark
And I'm (slow to finish but I'm quick to start)

Never in the wrong time or wrong place
Desecration is the smile on my face
The love I made is the shape of my space
My face, my face

Never in the wrong time or wrong place
Desecration is the smile on my face
The love I made is the shape of my space
My face, my face
Yeah...

Desecration Smile by the RHCP from their album Stadium Arcadium (2006)

Saltwater and a handful of Sand

2007-03-11T22:16:00.000+05:30

Goa has always come to me in doses. Probably so, for there is so much to fathom. And this trip was indeed long due and well earned. There were several reasons for it. The major ones being, it coincided with Vivek and Kristi’s visit to India after four years and meeting Rogger before he leaves for Sri Lanka. I too have been stretching my neurons and tendons for quite a while. Also the place has been pulling me for a while now.

Maybe it provides a fascinating setting for my “The Beach” adventure, maybe it is the allure of white sands and hours of lazing in the sun, maybe it’s the whole idea of being in a place where you can be what YOU are! Or maybe it’s just an abrupt ricochet of memories of a past life.

Whatever might be the reason, Anjuna never seemed to be unhindered or unfamiliar to me, once we reached at the tiny sleepy village. With Kristi around, people thought us to be from some other land, and they were very helpful. I wonder what the response would had been, had they known that they were talking to two long-maned Bengali lads, one Goan and a pretty Estonian lady with a doe-eyed tot, Sarah, restless to the hilt, exchanging laps at will! However Oliver had gotten ourselves a good enough bungalow on rent from his god-mother, though I wondered later about the godly bill that evolved out of our stay.

Sleepy Anjuna and Flour Mills

The breakfasts, lunches and dinners that had to follow were only too cheap, too delicious, too spicy and served by an overtly prompt and helpful guy who was over-driven by the favourite local flavour – fenni. Hence sometimes we had a few meddles in getting the menu right. But such meddles only add to the fun and at every serving we turned ravenous, at the mere sight of food dished out at us - Sorpatel – heavily spiced gravy of minced pork had with local bread (pav), Kalamari Rice – tangy flavoured neatly cut local squid mixed with fried rice or just had with potato fries, fresh prawns curry, prawn noodles, beef toast, roast beef, scrambled eggs and bacon with bread and all these coupled with tea, coffee, or beer depending on time and mood. Later I really regretted to spend on a few jazzy bars, pseudo-hippie haunts and also a famous MNC food chain which almost cost us the rent for four bikes on hire for a day.

Unleashing man and machine

Talking about bikes, driving around in Goa is the greatest experience of freedom as long as you are lucky not to be hit by a fenni-frenzied local or a nitro-fueled expat on his Enfield. Yes the classic Indian road mustang – Enfield Bullet. No other place in India has so many of these native choppers wheezing past you with that masculine roar of the engine. There were all kinds of Enfield Bullets that I found in Anjuna – modified and coloured to various tastes. Psychedelic colours played on the massive tanks and solid well built bodies and the curved handles gleamed in the sun promising a great ride. I saw so many skinny chicks riding Bullets and they were so much in control of that monstrous engine chugging underneath those frail things. WHOA! It goes without saying that we too got ourselves a Bullet 500 and a Bajaj Avenger. Both Vivek and Kristi love the machine and Oliver found the Avenger comfortable to cruise on. Bikes truly enliven your flights of freedom whereas cars are only too comfortable for the beer-heavy bellies. Ample buses and rickshaws zip by and you can even hitch-hike a jolly ride to your way.

Exhilerator Vagator

Since a few years, I have been interestingly drawn towards the yogic way of life. Considering the picturesque setting, me and Oliver jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn and set foot towards the sea at Vagator on the first day. It was an ethereal experience. Facing the chill of the sea wind, staring at the waves, feeling the mildewed sand underneath and the various asanas provided me with the perfect harmonization of man and nature. Behind me was the Chapora fort, an open air romantic set to so many Bollywood flicks, and in front was the ageless vastness of the ocean. This was solitude. Reminded me of love. We took a walk down to the turn of the cove and felt the chilly water play with our feet. Little attention was paid to the film crew assembling at the far end of Vagator cove, by locals or by Oliver or by me - a yogic nomad, an urban hippie, call me whatever. As Yoga refreshed me in thought, the swim invigorated my limbs, and the sun greeted us in readiness for a great trip ahead.

Goa's very own Cafe Del Mar

One thing why I prefer shacks more than super malls is the snugness and the one-on-one bargains that they offer. Here you don’t walk into a gigantic structure made of titanium steel alloys with more glass, steel, lights, blitz and all chiseled into magnificent perfection. How I loved being away from all those! It was fun to look at the shocked faces of the shack owners when we started bargaining in Hindi and how well. In the shopping onslaught, we were able to get some very good bargains for all of us and especially for Kristi who would’ve had a ripped purse at the end of her shopping spree, if we weren’t around. Just imagine getting a tie-died spaghetti top for 50 Indian rupees over a quote of 500. I picked up a lot of spiritual and psytrance as well as some meditative music by Prem Joshua.

Soaking up the Sun and Psychedelia

When going beach hopping, we avoided the commercial and crowded ones and stuck to Anjuna and Vagator. The afternoon swim was at Vagator and the whole ambience around the semicircular silvery cove was reminiscent of ‘The Beach’ footage.

That night we biked our way to Paradiso Anjuna, with the almost full moon over our heads, we strode the stairway down to the beach along side the much hounded pub. The beauty of the night unleashed itself upon me. The tide was high and waves were crashing on to the gentle mounds of solitary rocks jutting out of the sand. The sea shimmered like thousand gems spread beneath the canopy of a big wide blue. I could hear the slow thud of spiritual trance playing at Paradiso, at the back and the moon playing the master of this cosmic symphony. It was the music of what silence played on me. You forget where you belong to and where you have to go, at such a state. Mind you – I hadn’t done any substances! Far at the corner of the hills behind me, I could see shimmers of brilliant tiny lights luminescent from the shacks. My heart skipped a beat and reminded me of love and only love. The Tooth Fairy wasn’t in sight anywhere around.

However next day, after the morning swim, we touched Ozrant. The whole world came to a halt, apart from Sarah – of course. Man what an amazingly undiscovered place. We had a sumptuous breakfast at Goa’s very own Café Del Mar at Ozrant. The whole place spoke of palms, thatched huts, cosy places at every shade, psychedelic chairs and the awe-inspiring work of nature sprawled below. We knew at once that this is what we had come looking for. Later the trip to Baga was sunny and it was crowded with sun-hungry Caucasians, though the beach was a huge stretch of clean white sand. Candolim was exciting with an abandoned ship and a swim in the huge waves under the hull. The waves here were playful with strong under-currents. Sarah amused herself with her father and Oliver, while Kristi just would not leave the water saying “I can stay here all day!”

Crowded Shore, Barren Ship

One amusing thing about Candolim was that everyone around me was over-weight pensioners from Europe and the US, which made me feel a bit jittery because it reminded us of the time to come. “I will die young,” I said, “you’ll see, I’ll die young!” Little Sarah smiled at that. Nevertheless, the waves were beautiful and the sun was golden.

Subliminal Flows

The sunset at Ozrant, was as dramatic as one of my earlier posts “Lucid Hedonism”.

It re-established my belief of astral travel. The sights, the sounds and the feels were subliminal to my neurons. I could really feel the repairs taking place in my long-stressed brains gradually. The sea here was suddenly deep and calm waves washing at the aureate shores. A few shacks were lined way into the palms and they served ales and food to tattoos and tie-die mushroom merchandise. The shack we chose was the one playing some locally brewed psychedelic trance. The sun was on its way to kiss the sea, so Kristi, Oliver and me tried to get some good shots out of it with some beers. Children and grown ups alike, skittered around the beach carefree as they had made it their second home. A grown up version of Sarah played around in the sand with her brother while their folks swayed to the rhythm of the spiritual music. I had a few friendly exchanges with the shack owner a long-haired tattooed and pierced Nepalese who was also the one responsible for belting out the music.

A very – allow me to use this subjective term – ‘cute’ family passed us by. They were as cute as Vivek’s family. The man was tall and lean; he had weather-beaten skin with black dreadlocks stacked above and one gleeful tot running around his towering stature. He waved at what seemed to be a local fisherwoman and bowed courteously to her and had a brief bonhomie. This Rastafarian gentleman was hand-in-hand with his fair lady who in turned smiled at the little cherub-like baby in her arms. This joyful mob walked their way across us into the sunset, which had already matured into vibrant intermingling hues. Ozrant will stay with me forever. After all it was my abstract Lucid Hedonism, realized.

Disturbances in the great Slumber

That night back in our bungalow, I slept on the terrace. I swept glances with the sky through luscious palms, gazing at the stellar diamonds shining their light on me. The moon shone in glory, as I passed from one transient stage to another. I never realized the spur of the hour when I finally transcended from my reverie to neverland. The night was pleasant and I dreamt. The Tooth Fairy appeared besides me and took me in her astral embrace. It washed away all my sands of trouble and induced nectar like intoxication into the sweet-smelling springtime night. Everything was heavenly...as if in pristine paradise, but there was a strong pain in my heart, of some unknown sadness, still the moments were golden. Her large curious eyes looked at me with the most tender reverberation, that would melt the most inert of all hearts. And together we took off and flew to galaxies nested with civilizations who had never heard of eternal pain or longing. My heart drowned in perpetual bliss. Early morning the first rays of the sunrise, the chirping of birds and Oliver’s sun-toasted face woke me up! The Tooth Fairy was gone. It’s a pity Tooth Fairies do not last till the day. Waking up I couldn't feel anything, but the urge to recollect the real moments from the unreal...It was bittersweet.

Walking the Green Mile Home

Meeting Rogger was fun, he was in is elements and his chirpy best. My shooting him constantly made him feel like the ‘Star of Goa’ as his conscious self proclaimed. He showed us many interesting things like how to get the car to blink without touching it! It took me an emotional moment to realize that Vivek, Kristi and Rogger, would go off their ways soon, and the next point of such an assemblage would be of questionable certainty. Watching Kristi give a bucket bath to Sarah or Disney Chick as I lovingly call her is such a spectacle.With chants of “üks..kaks..kolm…suketu!” or one..two..three…dive!, the emphatic Sarah who just crossed the 10 month mark, would dive into her bucket and look around at all of us with an Archimedean expression of accomplishment. Will see her grown up next time. Hope Rogger grows up too, or maybe not, because he is best at what he is now…like Goa forever!

THE TANNED!

THE BUCKETEERS!

THE STRUNG!

THE TOASTED!

SNUGGY!
All fools, me cool!...
no the coolest, yes!

Lucid Hedonism I & II

2007-03-11T22:14:00.001+05:30

Black Metal

2007-03-11T21:49:00.000+05:30

I strongly believe I am a follower.

It transcends me to a different world. A world of never-ending winters, blizzards, snow covered woods and fields, night and the full moon, log cabins, dark clothing, display of weapons and armoury, something hugely medieval... It also gives me the feeling of perpetual desolation...and helps me to enjoy the feeling all the more.

In India, I must say...its pretty difficult to derive "that" feeling.

Mainly for 3 reasons : Atmosphere, Absolute Solitude, Music.

I remember trying to get as close to the feeling of such nature during the rains roaming in the hills that lie between Bombay and Pune while listening to an obscure band called Limbonic Art. (Voices : I require the solace of the shadows, so the night can be revealed!!!) It was an enthralling experience. It was cold...foggy and the mood...intoxicating with anandamide (Voice : Do I have to mention that?)

So, Atmosphere: Yes!

Absolute Solitude: Definitely Yes. Coz there wasn't any scope for any kind of human intervention apart from my good old horde of two more. It was gettin dark and it was magickal.

Music: Was carrying: Profanum Aeternum - Eminence of Satanic Imperial Art & Limbonic Art - Epitome of Illusions.

Now where do you find such peace and desolation without any questions asked...anywhere in India. And if you do...You are one hell of a lucky Black Metal head! Here, in the cities you dodge between heavy traffic and cattle and more cattle who think they are office goers. Forget about gothic structures.

People gaze at me, at the intricate artwork on my full sleeve black T-shirt, then a fleeting glance all over and they start all over again. Imagine if I play Black Metal for them! ( I have people issues since eons) * A blog will be dedicated to PEOPLE*

So now, Atmosphere, Absolute Solitude, Music : Fail Miserably!

Like I always say...If you never experienced the allure of epic fantasy, insane screams, gothic atmosphere, the allure of forests and woods, desolations, living in log cabins, winter nights, blizzardous nights, the love of darkness and occult...then you probably would never know Black Metal.

Mighty Morbid Hails.

Dance of the Dervish

2007-03-11T21:20:00.000+05:30

My father used to take me to visit the shrine of a certain Muslim seer, back home at my native place. I have clear vivid memories of that place which seem so majestic, grandiose at the same time eerily quiet. Once during a special occasion at the shrine, I heard enthralling voices along with a rhythmic accompaniment of percussions and other instruments which blended so beautifully with the fragrant holy smoke emerging from a huge incense bowl placed before the singers. They were dressed in flowing white tunics and their eyes had the soormah – a special sort of mascara. Bearded and long haired, their voices rose and fell with rapturous melody, and their beautiful faces strained in devotion and the flow of music. The whole atmosphere was divine. The singers sang in Urdu. The melodic patterns of the beat were in perfect harmony with the lush green surroundings of the holy shrine. I could figure a bit of what their words meant. They spoke of “the body not being your body, but that being a divine possession of the Lord and His will. How dare you let yourself or anyone tamper with it?” I am reminded of a line which said “There only Light everywhere and it is Your Light that prevails and I submit myself to this Light!” It was magickal. I was lost. And I found myself at the same time. It was with great efforts that I had to bring myself to the 'real' world and go back home with Dad.

Sufi music does wonders. It is the kind of music which is extremely emotional, high on energy, devotional, intensely spiritual and that which preaches the ultimate love of God. I am an agnostic non believer, a born Hindu Brahmin. Still I have always been drawn towards knowing things which are so simple yet so very complex to comprehend. And Sufi represents the mystic realm of Islam. I have often been bemused by looking at the dervishes swaying in a perpetual state of euphoria. They are supposed to be in a direct dialogue with the divine world. It’s a selfless urge to plunge into the spiritual plane with no disturbance being that great a disturbance in their path to stop them from whirling. The divine dervishes hold their right hand to towards the heavens, palm held outstretched for “receiving from God” and left hand titled down earthwards “giving oneself to the earth”. Their head titled towards the right hand which is a sign of submission to the Lord. The dervish becomes a direct connect between the spiritual and the material world. They show how minuscule we are in front of the great Universe. The very thought humbles the mind. The whirling dervishes in white flowing robes and head gear swirling round and round in circular trance-like state under the influence of some very profound tunes, make a uniquely inspirational sight. The dance of the dervishes signifies the loss of conditionality. It resembles joy that exists in solemn undertones of detachment. It marks the sense of being at one with the greatness of the earth. Something that we all have long forgotten.

Sex, Tongues and Chocolate

2007-03-11T21:17:00.000+05:30

Sex should not be just sex. It is ought to be a euphoric proliferation of intense emotions. Unsaid, unexplainable thoughts and ideas communicated through breath, eyes and limbs. And above all the quintessential tongue…yes the tongue! The most powerful muscle of the human body which communicates so well! (Roy…you dumbass! You never knew this until last week when you saw Sarah Jane blurting it out in some sillyass music channel program) The tongue which helps you to ‘taste’ sweet revenge, bitter truth or even honey laced success. Apart from the time that it gets as much at its disposal, from hard solids to pasty semisolids to fluid juices. Sometimes it can also involuntarily spew venom. But let’s not get into that.

One of my ex-girlfriends (Lets call her as EX) had this thing she used to do with her tongue. She used to lick my ears! (Before you go eww…my ears are quite clean, or she wouldn’t had done that in the first case) OK now licking ears in the act is supposed to be sexy and arousing. And many women like doing that and it works to an extent. EX was no exception and I was obliged to let be it for the fear of being a turn-off and losing out on the application of the most powerful muscle of her body on other profound places of me which demanded more attention. However EX, the poor pretty thing, was pretty determined and engrossed in wetting the insides of my ear, working her way, making heavy tympanic damages to my cochlea (to avoid confusion – COCHlea is a snail-shaped tube in the inner ear where sound vibrations are converted into nerve impulses) and eardrums to a point that made it difficult to even hear my inner voice. White noise. No choice! It seemed much like an over-excited pet mongrel clamouring for attention, by breathing hot air and huge wet licks by its huge wet tongue on the face of the keeper.

Foreplay can be very hammed-up sometimes. Chocolate is supposed to be very ‘la amour’ sensuous, when it comes to foreplay. EX made sure she had a bite before slurping and sticking it up on the most powerful muscle of my body…no guessing, my tongue! Sometimes after heavy foreplays I had earfuls of Dairy Milk or Mars. It was quiet a job to clean the gooey stuff off my ears and their respective lobes. Though, I have never made known of my discomfort to her.

Well props like chocolate, ice, ice cream, wine are passé. Go to Amsterdam dude. You should visit Amsterdam at least once in your lifetime. The Dutch are truly unique and creative. They are dirty and free. Indulgence in pleasure is bountiful out there. Don’t stop at cheese…there are many more, from props to manuals to live demos. No wonder we Indians go Dutch so many times in our pursuit for intoxication! I don’t think EX ever knew of the Dutch.

Anyways as I was saying, apart from stupid fixations, artificial orgasms and whines are as lame. They will not reach you where you guys want to go. The key to a good experience lies in Tantra. You submit yourselves to each other with no inhibitions or false veil of shame. (“If you gotta do it, you gotta do it!” Like how the Yankees would like to say, though they are worse at it.) It is good to consider sex as something spiritual, a kind of cleansing of the souls, as I have said earlier… It ought to be a euphoric proliferation of emotions. Unsaid, unexplainable thoughts and ideas communicated through breath, eyes and limbs and yes the tongue! The most powerful…(OK I guess you have got that by now) The cleansing occurs when you see the act not as a primal requirement of your body - though it is one - but as a trip. A spiritual trip. Where you and your partner entwined as one, soar unto the skies of limitless positive energy. It’s like the movie ‘Cocoon’ where the aliens make love by intense concentration at a single point of contact within the mind. When you and your partner are on the same plane of prolific mutual engagement, what you have is not sex but it’s a spiritual experience. It is Goddess Worship. Making your woman realize how good she makes you feel and you in turn devote yourself in her adoration. Many of us don’t recognize this fact because of the perpetual sojourns of the restless mind. That is when sex becomes an act instead of an experience.

Before I go ahead here are some noteworthy facts about India: Tantra and Kama Sutra were conceived here. Men and Women both had long hair and were clothed only waist-down. Cleavage was passé. (He he…ok I’m not sure about the last one)

Now, this might be a bit off topic, but still I would like to talk of the twisted form of sexuality in our society. Enough has been said to a point of ostracizing the carnal pleasures of love making due to the ever prevailing double standards of our society. Take the traditional Indian example of arranged marriage. Here man meets woman under the consent and watchful eyes of their parents and they ‘sleep together’ on their very Suhaag Raat i.e. the wedding night. How does it work out? Well it starts with sleeping as strangers and then loving and caring for each other for the rest of their lives. Sounds sick! Now take the case of a very urban ‘technologically and intellectually’ advanced city where man meets woman. Complete strangers fall in love and into bed as well! Sounds sick as well? Well it might, for the selfsame Indian couple who were perfect strangers to body, mind and soul on the very day of their defloration. Their Wedding Night! Cheers and get some chocolate please!

LUST and Love

2007-03-11T21:16:00.000+05:30

All love dies after ejaculation...

It’s true. When it is Lust it is just Lust. Period. No other feelings or emotions.

Lust only serves the primal carnal desires of the flesh. It sees no caste, creed, race, colour or even sex to some. The ever-present dormant beast waiting in anticipation to derive pleasures of the flesh leaps out of our civilized selves to dive into the world of unexplainable reveries. People in love, many a times, are actually giving in (and giving head) to Lust in disguise. Women are confused as they always are; whether its affection or physical attraction. Especially if you are a great love maker, this confusion only grows...to my great dismay! Who wouldn’t like to have a partner who loves and shoves in massive and caring proportions?

Well to all the misled and misguided ones, here’s a sermon from Demonos Roy.

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAKING LOVE. Remember this next time when you are with your partner! Making Love. Its just a marketing jargon used extensively by condom advertisements. Imagine you “making love” and it starts with the characteristic kissing and fondling and the mellow whisperings of ‘I love yous’ to each other. Then it escalates to a point of thanksgiving to God namely, OH GOD! Oh God Fuck! Also how can I forget the repeated self inflictions of indignity viz. Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Tell me something, where does all the love go during these times? Blame it on role-play.

To me love is innocent, pure and unconditional. It transcends boundaries, barriers, body, and time. Lust cannot. Too much of purple Lust lies beneath the pink of Love. Why does everyone need to have someone attractive to be a partner-in-relationship?

So all Lust dies after ejaculation. Love remains.

INFIDEL CASTRO

2007-03-11T21:14:00.000+05:30

A few days back my friend had asked me to jot a few words on INFIDELITY. Days went by, to weeks to almost a month and a half. I still have not the yearning to really write about it. If any of you readers have faced it or even practiced it, which I’m sure most of you have, you definitely know that the effect of our enzymic chemicals acting upon us. Be it testosterone or oestrogen or any other yet undiscovered. No wonder as the eccentric Einstein once said ‘Love is chemistry, Sex is Physics.’ And by all means I abide by it.

Physical attraction can disguise itself as love. And we humans are very adept in reassuring ourselves that is ‘make-believe’. A harmless wink, a teasing glance, a subtle twist of lips------- the whole kinesis of the human body is inclined to be ruled by the chemicals within us. INFIDELITY happens when the chemicals take over the physical. In other words, when greed, lust, sloth and likewise – preside over and defy – all logical reasoning within us. All of a sudden the risks are no more the ‘risks’. It’s a mad rush. I am not trying to be too articulate with words, but I’m saying in a blatantly practical way. INFIDELITY is the seed borne by us. The seed is dormant, its never inactive. Only sanity lies in holding to the ‘faith’.

You will see that even religions might allow polygamy but that’s within an institution. Out side of marriage, in a physical relationship, a woman will always be a mistress. Extra-marital affairs. Hmm…sad, though not in bed. One fling is fine. Two One-night-stands are ok. But an organized meet-up between consenting adults is something approached in cold blood. The mad rush becomes a steady flow. None of the two really thinks of his/her home or family. All they need is pleasure and someone who they think listens to them. After all we are also social ANIMALS.

INFEDILITY can also be very addictive. When the juices flow steadily. Some people are driven by thrills of the flesh, some for mere recognition in the other person’s eyes, some to be loved by so many at the same time, some to kill boredom because they think they are not skilled in any other way, still there are scores of people driven towards infidelity for something as harmlessly dangerous as the curiosity arising out of an meagre infatuation.

However, there is no need to lose hope though. There are people who still are staunch believers of monogamy. Those who value the value of ‘being faithful’. A person would never get ‘carried away’ if his will does not give in. No matter how intoxicated, depressed, unhappy and dissatisfied he/ she is in life with their current partner. A very simple logic would be, you are always free to walk out of the other person’s life and then start a new relation. Then why handle parallel lives and incompetent wives?

The immediate remedy is to dissociate and try not to brood. Followed by starting out afresh. This would please you, her and Einstein.

Nostalgic Ranting

2007-03-11T21:13:00.000+05:30

This was written by me some years back.

I feel nostalgic and quite glad to be alive as I post it today.

I have felt like waiting at the tip of the iceberg, as the massive ice melts down, slowly but surely giving way to the cold motionless water of the sea. The situation is desperate where you know there is no one to your rescue. You know the horrific consequences of the inevitable. But you can do nothing. Absolutely nothing. It is sinking. And it will take you and me along with it. Wild reveries of thoughts occur in my mind.

As a human there are plans you devise, or at least try to think of a constructive end to a calamity. I am trying to calm down. ‘Deep breath in’ and ‘Breathe out’ I tell myself. The various “alternative solutions of the problem” as taught in management programs or, B-schools, the more colloquial or I should say the “in” way of calling the IIMs and the lesser ones. I call the “lesser ones” as lesser because they are not tagged with the illustrious magical letters I.I.M. This is how millions of Indian engineering graduates (or even those not from India) feel in the same vein, as lesser to the IITs. Note the double I’s in IIT and IIM…it cannot get any clearer than this (me myself and 'I') Whoever thought of what they teach in there behind those sleek walls with sleeker whiteboards and all the big honchos of tomorrow watching at their mentors in rapt attentiveness with eyes behind the sleekest of all glasses and frames? Is it about I’s or ‘you’s or the quintessential ‘me’s? Disaster Management maybe.

But yes, again the situation is desperate. You classify the alternative solutions into primary and secondary solutions as per your intellect that you feel which solution should be primary and which of those poor desperate attempts to survival are secondary or vice versa. And all get down to the ultimate solution of cracking the case. Here…let me remind you, as I might have swerved miles from where I was, i.e. at the tip of the iceberg. Should I bribe one of those penguins to piggybacking me to the shore with a shoal of fish? But where do I find the fish…. as a matter of fact where are the penguins I can feed with fish that in turn would piggyback me to the shore? Then I can always try use the SOS but then it reminds me of the song “Who will save your souls”. Being so guilt-ridden throughout our lives who will save our souls for the lies that we told! Hallelujah!

Which leads to another solution of praying to god…A multitude of humanity does that in times of desperation like these. They call it faith. And then they grow old. And they say it works. Probably it works to kill time, when it comes to waiting through a reckoning of hapless extermination. You don’t believe me? Look at what the Vedas say about Vridha-avastha and you’ll know. Look at the hordes of religious channels of all sects preaching alternate ways to attain god or in more subtle terms of better living. I call it the New Wave Of Indian Spiritualism. But I won’t ask you to try that here, where I am; at the tip of the iceberg. Nothing is working here, degrees, qualifications, nor bribery nor religion. As the ice melts inch by inch…I’m going down down down. I am not even carrying a bottle to leave a letter of my ranting behind. I just feel the frost biting into me and the icy water touching my feet. Down I go into the subzero. Every function in my body is taking an effort…Hypothermia strikes! I am sinking…Life is…Gasp Gasp…Blurp Blurp…Bubble Bubble……@#*$!@#$@..................@#@......................................blurp.

Holier than Thou

2007-03-11T21:12:00.000+05:30

People blame a particular section of society for an act of terror, and the sentiments of dissent has and will run deep for years to come. In India, there was a certain haplessly opportunist of a President back in 1947 whose ugly move we still have to bear through. People are divided upon religion because of the relics or so called ‘beholders of faith’ like the Maulanas from SIMI (A students muslim foundation) and Sudarshan who heads RSS (a totally tyrannical Hindu outfit with regressive and outdated principles).

Islam and Vedanta are two profound studies which preach of God and the ways to attain godliness. Still how can it be that they engage people towards fanaticism?

Christianity has the vaguest and yet simplest of all doctrines. Buddhism is mistakenly thought as the religion of peace and compassion. Ask the Neo-Buddhist and you will know. The very lunacy of religion lies in the fact that one man’s god is another’s devil.

It is not hard to follow a religion of convenience. And if you are a clergyman, it is not hard to turn a well found religion into a religion of convenience as well. So all the lawlessness, acts of terror, brutality against animals and men is accounted for people who are godless. But not following any religion, according to many would be blasphemous and makes one an outlaw. But does everyone go about terrorizing and rampaging daily peace? On the contrary most acts of ghastly deeds have been performed by believers of religion. The Spanish Inquisition and witch hunts by the Christians, the forceful conversions by Muslims through the centuries, and recent fanatical acts by the Hindu Right wing.

With the advent of a flurry of spiritual channels featuring ‘godmen’ and clergymen giving away religious discourses with divine confidence, it makes me sit, watch and wonder. How necessary it is to have FAITH! It is the only Hope and Shelter. It’s the provider of Solace. Take away FAITH from your life and everything is lost. We have been programmed in such a way.

And I try to believe.

Human Order (Lega Kya?)

2007-03-11T21:08:00.000+05:30

I walk in to an upclass coffee bar or restaurant. There are three of us. I say waving, in a very friendly tone "Please could you take the order?" My other friend Gautam says ,"Order Please" in a very matter-of-fact straightout manner. And then there is Satya who says "CHOO CHOO ORDER LEGA KYA? (will you take the order?) Its Satya's time-proven way which gets us what we need.

Everybody likes to boss around. Every person likes to be heard as well. Still there are people who like to be bossed upon.

(Sweet dreams are made of these....

Some of them want to use you....

Some of them wanna get used by you.

Some of them want to abuse you

Some of them wanna be abused!

Sometimes we find a very humble and meek person behaving in a very different and unlikely manner. The reason is that it becomes his ardent and urgent need to satisfy his ego, which finds its way in doing so. Think of Hitler. Think of Fidel Castro. They all started out humble but smart introverts.

No one likes to be a doormat.

Here, let me ask a very vital question: Does doing precise things for someone without questioning, revolting or questioning make you a doormat?

One more question: Why does it become necessary to be a bit of an autocrat to organize and direct things your way?

Leaders are the ones who are great orators, teachers, motivators, organizers and keepers of people’s faith. One can’t be a leader if he doesn’t have all these qualities. If things are meant to be in a certain way...then it definitely has be in that way and no other. And Leaders know the way. Leaders streamline everyone’s thoughts and actions. So if you FOLLOW THE LEADER, you follow the right path. That means you believe in him. All said and done. Then why do they (leaders) get the tag of being a Dictator or an Autocrat?

According to Maslow, Man is constantly working towards satisfying his needs. The needs range from the very basic to the highest of all needs i.e. self-actualization. The needs are in order of the most basic needs like physical, to social and psychological which come much later.

FOOD WATER SHELTER SEX (physiological)

SECURITY AND SAFETY (psychological)

LOVE AND RELATIONSHIPS (social and self-esteem)

SELF-ACTUALIZATION (this need depends on creativity and brainpower)

The final two needs are subjective and totally depends on the human environment and his nature.

There is one more theory (whose, I don’t remember) but it says humans are of two types:

TYPE A:

Humans are pathologically lazy

They have to be coaxed to work

They fear punishment and hence they are bound to work.

TYPE B:

Humans are hard working by nature.

They constantly work towards realizing their dreams.

They are hugely motivated for better gains.

Well when I look at it, I feel that TYPE B are rare. TYPE A are found in abundance. TYPE A requires autocratic treatment which I see in everyday life. I have seen people lagging behind for the lack of proper direction. I am no Jesus Christ but still it has helped every time I have intervened. This leads me to black books of people. They find it hard to understand that without precise control, workflow lags. I am no Dictator though.

I just try to bring things under control. Otherwise I am inert and you see me sitting quiet at a corner engrossed in deep ponder.

Whatever happened to the school of thought belonging to spiritual gurus, who preach "Love Peace and Tenderness" ?

Or is it India? Or it might be what Satya says, Just BALANCE!

49%

2007-03-11T21:05:00.000+05:30

49% of ministers in India are vote hungry megalomaniacs. Rest of them have their votes assured. (Am being too sympathetic here? )

49% of operations and medical treatment in India are surgical mishaps. Or else we would not have heard regular reports of cotton guages and scissors found in the poor unsuspecting guts of needy patients. Call it bloke-headedness or sheer ignorance. When the brilliance of so many doctors pave way to wrong diagnoses leading to more suffering and financial waste borne by the patient and his family, think of what the 49% not-so-brilliant-so-called-underpriviledged-branded denim clad reserved candidates would come out with...Maybe whole operation tool kits! There is but just one word for these, Dr. QUACK.

49% of quality time should be dedicated to protests by students. They should be shown snippets and doumentaries of Netaji Subhash Bose, Tinnamen Square Tragedy, Che Guevara, WWII, etc. Student "revolutions" and " uprisings" should be more of a regular feature all over the world, especially in India. Also special screenings of neo-idealistic films like YUVA, Rang De Basanti, The Motorcycle Diaries, Michael Collins, etc. should be encouraged in college auditoriums.

49% of the democracy in India is Facist.

I have been a quota victim years back. I feel the pangs of rejection due to caste bias. And I've felt the anger towards the OBCs, SCs, STs, NTs who smiled into glory with the assurance of engineering and medical seats in premier colleges. The whole idea of caste bias is put to full use by pathological egoists we call ministers. They still DIVIDE AND RULE.

Disclaimer: Flog The Blog

2007-03-11T21:01:00.000+05:30

This blog does not contain material from elsewhere. They are my life incidences and dreams.

They might be disturbing for few sections of society and walks of life. But my voices don't know how to please.

My will is good.

The voices do not belong to any group pertaining to religions, politics, cults, beliefs, et al. Do not whine to me. Either cry alone or to your members.

Posts would be shamelessly, mercilessly, ironically, satirically, comically and erotically true. Nothing but Brutal Truth. Voices.

Signed By:

Demonos.

28th May 2006.

Read the Disclaimer well!!!

Finally. My blog. My own mindspace. Say the proliferation of knowledge or pure trashbin material. Do I care??? he he. (Chris tucker VOICE: he he This feels good man...like I'm on prime time! Momma...HI!) Sorry...I've told you about them.

Voice: Need to shave, shower and go for jamming...not now Roy. You have a lot say but let it flow through...not on this beautiful sunday evening.

Morbid hails here I come MOFOS!!!

The mushroom hysteria

2007-03-09T12:53:00.000+05:30

I heard the earth thundering below our feet and rising ahead of us in terror. It was a beautiful sight.

- Dr. Abdul Kalam Azad, President of India. (May 1998)

The radiance of a thousand suns…burst into the sky.

I am become death. The destroyer of worlds.

- J. Robert Oppenhiemer, principal architect of the world’s first nuclear explosion. (16^th July 1945)

The most terrifying monster lurking in the darkness of Hiroshima.

- Kenzaburo Oe, Japanese writer.

The whole mountain turned white.

- Pakistani government, June 1998.

The nuclear tests have been hugely popular, particularly among the urban middle class.

- Pankaj Mishra, security Advisor, India.

The tests have divided the country more deeply than ever.

- Amitav Ghosh, novelist.

Our cities and forests, our fields and villages will burn for days. Rivers will turn into poison. The air will become fire. The wind will spread flames. When everything there is to burn is burnt and the fires die, smoke will rise and shut out the sun.

- Arundhati Roy, Author.

Thus Spake Demonos

2007-03-06T16:52:00.000+05:30

This was spoken to a self-proclaimed clairvoyant.

Love cannot be just once; it only means that you are too tired to love. I have thought about that and then I learnt and rediscovered myself. I felt, I didn't have an identity. However, today as I stand with all my insecurities and uncertainties, I still am half way to know who I am. I have gone through deceit and denial on several occasions. I have gone through humiliation, separation, pain and agony…and now I come clean. I am detached and I find peace in it. I respect everyone's feelings.

I have learnt to let go; letting go is the biggest of all attainable pleasures for me that I derive. Be it letting go of a bus, a train, a good movie, a lover, a potential life partner, a nice job. I don’t think on that, hence I’m happy :) I am almost an urban ascetic; I yearn to live a life of the mountains. Sometimes there are disturbances, when people say that ‘you love yourself and nobody else’. Well if you can’t love yourself, I would say you can’t love anybody else. I used to hate myself to the extent of putting my self to pain and oblivion. Even near experiences of putting myself unto death’s embrace. Then I realised humility. Those ego barriers are futile and unnecessary. I used to hate myself but not anymore. Years have changed me; that’s all I need to know. I can’t live for the future; I try to live in the present as much as possible. Hence I am never interested to know what’s in store for me in the future like how my folks and other people want. So, I never asked and will never do. If I get to know what is in store for me, then I might break down and lose it.

Life was never a 9-5 job, a wife and a kid and aging parents for me. It can’t be.
All these things have been done for millions of years and still being done.

I don’t fall in all this, I say this not because I’ m superior or pretend to be strikingly different or something like that. But because there is a deeper reason why I was sent here. And I seek that very purpose.

The EGO Shuttle has landed!

2007-02-13T10:47:00.000+05:30

After returning victorious and expelling all ego from the earth, in the black nothingness of the universe, the Ego shuttle has finaly landed on a seemingly egoless earth.

Let us view through our pschotropic intergalactic satellite to see how it looks likes out there!

Oh yes! There it is waving at us.

Have a look!

EGO

Doesn't it look ugly from down here?

Empty Spaces 2007

2007-01-13T14:42:00.000+05:30

Doesn't it feel good?

Hope you like the exosphere.

Beep.

Will be back with yet another galactick leap.

Demonos.

Long Beep.

Burp.