New Year and all that Jazz!!

What a start to the new year! And what a way to jumpstart a dormant blog! Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter are coming to town for a concert organised by Congo Square. Date: 14th Jan '07, Time: 7pm, Venue: Dalhousie Institute, Kolkata. Entry by invitation only, so start hunting for alternate entries!
For those who need a primer on these two jazz legends, here goes:

Herbert Jeffrey Hancock (born April 12, 1940) is an Academy Award- and multiple Grammy Award-winning jazz pianist and composer from Chicago, Illinois, USA. Hancock is one of jazz music's most important and influential pianists and composers. He embraced elements of rock, funk, and soul while adopting freer stylistic elements from jazz.
Like many jazz pianists, Hancock started with a classical music education; Hancock studied from age seven. His talent was recognized early, and he played the first movement of Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 5 in D Major at a young people’s concert with the Chicago Symphony at age eleven.
As part of Miles Davis's "second great quintet", Hancock helped redefine the role of a jazz rhythm section, and was one of the primary architects of the "post-bop" sound. Later, he was one of the first jazz musicians to embrace synthesizers and funk. Yet for all his restless experimentalism, Hancock's music is often melodic and accessible; he has had many songs "cross over" and achieve success among pop audiences.
Hancock's best-known solo works include "Cantaloupe Island", "Watermelon Man", "Maiden Voyage", "Chameleon", and the single "Rockit."

Born August 25, 1933, Wayne Shorter did not pick up a musical instrument until he was sixteen when he started playing the clarinet to placate his father. A quick learner, his passion for music grew quickly. After earning a degree in music education from New York University in 1956 and a two year army stint, Shorter turned professional in 1959 with the Maynard Ferguson Orchestra, which also included at the time Joe Zawinul. At the same time he became close friends with John Coltrane and the two would often get together to woodshed and discuss music. In the fall of '59, Wayne made his breakthrough joining Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers with Lee Morgan. Here his unique sound and his startling original compositions found a major outlet.
Wayne Shorter's music pumped new blood into the Miles Davis Quintet of the time with Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter and Tony Williams. And these unique innovators developed into a team that changed the sound of jazz.
Throughout the sixties, Wayne also recorded an impressive body of work under his own name for Blue Note. He also contributed his playing and compositions to countless other Blue Note sessions.
Wayne, Miles and Herbie Hancock would again change instrumental music in the late sixties with an open-ended music that would later be called fusion. Wayne and Joe Zawinul, both of whom can draw great drama and beauty from music using color, rhythm and leaping intervals, formed the most creative and innovative of fusion bands, Weather Report, which they co-led until 1985.

Radio Update 4

The radioblog’s been updated. This time the theme being Alternate Versions of well known songs. Some of them are pretty nice, specially the live versions and some are plain ordinary. I might add a few more songs to the list which now includes:

Classical Gas by Eric Clapton – originally by Mason Summers.

Message in a Bottle by Dave Matthews Band – originally by Sting and the Police.

One by Sting and U2 (live) – originally by U2.

Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton and Dire Straits (live at the Nelson Mandela Concert) –originally by Eric Clapton.

Fields of Gold by REM, sting and U2 (live) – originally by Sting.

Layla by Eric Clapton and Mark Knopfler – originally by Eric Clapton.

Fragile by Sting and Julio Iglesias – originally by Sting.

With or Without You by Keane – origianally by U2.

I Will Survive by Cake - originally by Gloria Gaynor.

Imagine by A Perfect Circle – originally by John Lennon.

Come Together by Soundgarden – originally by the Beatles.

Where Did You Sleep Last Night by Nirvana - originally by LeadBelly.

All Along the Watchtower by U2 - originally by Bob Dylan.

Which alternate versions do you like??

The Search Continues...

"There are two kinds of geniuses: the 'ordinary' and the 'magicians'. An ordinary genius is a fellow whom you and I would be just as good as, if we were only many times better. There is no mystery as to how his mind works. Once we understand what they've done, we feel certain that we, too, could have done it. It is different with the magicians. Even after we understand what they have done it is completely dark. Richard Feynman is a magician of the highest calibre."

- Mark Kac

Well, that kind of sums it up doesn’t it? This particular quote was addressed to one of the greatest physicists of all times, Richard Phillips Feynman. Why was he the greatest? Well judge for yourself…

"Physics is like sex. Sure, it may give some practical results, but that's not why we do it."

- Richard Feynman

He clearly had a radically different insight into the workings of the universe!

The fact remains, that the word ‘genius’ is grossly misused, almost overused. We have to analyze the ‘ordinary genius’ and the ‘magician’ separately before labeling anyone.

In Search of Genius?

What a strange and bewildering literature has grown up around the term genius — defining it, analysing it, categorizing it and rationalizing it. Critics have contrasted it with such qualities as (mere) talent, intellect, imagination, originality, industriousness, sweep of mind and elegance of style; or have shown how genius is composed of these in various combinations. Psychologists and philosophers, musicologists and art critics, historians of science and scientists themselves have all stepped into this quagmire, a capacious one. Their several centuries of labour have produced no consensus on any of the necessary questions. Is there such a quality? If so, where does it come from? When otherwise sober scientists speak of the genius as magician, wizard, or superhuman, are they merely indulging in a flight of literary fantasy? And a question that has barely been asked: Why, as the pool of available humans has risen from 100 million to 6 billion, has the production of geniuses—Shakespeares, Newtons, Mozarts, Einsteins—seemingly choked off to nothing, genius itself coming to seem like the property of the past?
Is it only nostalgia that makes genius seem to belong to the past? Giants did walk the earth—Shakespeare, Newton, Mozart, Da Vinci—and in their shadows the poets, scientists, artists and musicians of today crouch like pygmies. No one will ever create a Macbeth or a Mona Lisa, it seems. Yet the raw materials of genius, whatever combination of native talent and cultural opportunity that might be, can scarcely have disappeared. On a planet of six billion people, parcels of genes with Einsteinian potential must appear from time to time, and presumably more than ever before. Some of those parcels must be as well nurtured as Einstein’s, in a world richer and better educated than ever before. Are the latter-day Mozarts not being born, or are they all around, bumping shoulders with one another, scrabbling for cultural scrabs, struggling to be newer than the new, their stature inevitably shrinking all the while. “Giants have not ceded to mere mortals”, the evolutionary theorist Stephen Jay Gould wrote in an iconoclastic essay. “Rather, the boundaries…have been restricted and the edges smoothed.”
Geniuses change history. That is part of their mythology, and it is the final test, presumably more reliable than the trail of anecdotes and peer admiration that brilliant scientists leave behind. The power of genius may lie in the ability of one person to accomplish what otherwise may have taken dozens. Or perhaps it lies—especially in this exploding, multifarious, information rich age—in one person’s ability to see his science whole, to assemble, as Newton did, a vast unifying tapestry of knowledge. ‘Genius’ is a word often, if not mostly, misused or misinterpreted. This is perhaps testimony to the fact that the true nature of ‘genius’ remains as elusive as ever.

Revolutionaries: Miles Davis

A humble tribute to just a few giants of music. Some are household names, some are not very well known but all of them were revolutionaries. This is an exploration of the evolution of music, of the fusion of different styles and of the men who had pivotal roles to play in it.

Miles Dewey Davis III was one of the most influential and innovative musicians of the 20th century. A trumpeter, bandleader and composer, Davis was at the forefront of almost every major development in jazz after World War II. He played on some of the important early bebop records and recorded the first cool jazz records. He was partially responsible for the development of modal jazz, and jazz fusion arose from his work with other musicians in the late 1960s and early 1970s. His recordings, along with the live performances of his many influential bands, were vital in jazz's acceptance as music with lasting artistic value. A popularizer as well as an innovator, Davis became famous for his languid, melodic style and his laconic, and at times confrontational, personality. As an increasingly well-paid and fashionably-dressed jazz musician, Davis was also a symbol of jazz music's commercial potential. He was the "Picasso of Jazz," reinventing himself and his sound endlessly in his musical quest. He was an artist that defied (and despised) categorization, yet he was the forerunner and innovator of many distinct and important musical movements. Davis was posthumously inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on March 13, 2006. He has also been inducted into the St. Louis Walk of Fame.


(Check out the radioblog playlist which has tracks from early blues to jazz to jazz-fusion.)

Formula X

This must be the most hilarious thing in the 'blogworld'!! This is a must see for everyone, you will never look at life the same way again! Check out

FORMULA X

And if you know of any other blog as hilarious as this one PLEASE send me the link.

(thank you tiny black cat for bringing this one to my notice)

Interview??

I have nothing else to do, absolutely nothing...

1. Were you named after anyone?
Not exactly, but they tried to rhyme it with my cousin brother who is named Sagnik. They thought that might make me a brilliant software-engineer-earning-50,000-a-month type of a guy. I must say they had high hopes for me!

2. Do you wish on stars?
Never found any point in that. Stars are pretty to look at but rather unconvincing when it comes to fulfilling wishes.

3. When did you last cry?
I frankly don’t remember. Life is such a bed of roses for me…

4. Do you like your handwriting?
I love my handwriting. Some people say that I unconsciously use my handwriting to attract attention.

5. What is your favourite meat?
It has to be pork. I looove pork chops and wine!!

6. What is your most embarrassing CD on your shelf?
Best of N’sync! I rather not comment.

7. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you?
Not at all. I don’t like people who don’t talk much and always appear to be in a world of their own. I wouldn’t be compatible with myself

8. Are you a daredevil?
I’m impulsive but moderately so.

9. How do you release anger?
I kick people. No, seriously!

10. Where is your second home?
My first home is within me and my second home is where I stay.

11. Do you trust others easily?
I make sure that I don’t have to trust people I don’t want to trust. And I choose people whom I can trust very carefully.

12. What was your favourite toy as a child?
Believe it or not, my microscope! I had it since I was in the 4th standard and was mesmerized by what I saw through it ever since.

13. What class in school/college do you think is totally useless?
Ideally speaking I think it is not possible to have a totally useless class anywhere but considering what I’ve been through in college, I think the whole education system is useless.

14. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Yes. I was born that way. Can’t help it.

15. Have you ever been in a mosh pit?
I tend to avoid them.

16. What do you look for in a guy/girl?
Creativity of any kind appeals to me more than anything else.

17. Would you bungee jump?
I might just go for it if I’m in the right mood.

18. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
No I don’t. I have to bend down a long way to reach my shoe!

19. What's your favourite ice cream?
Butterscotch with hot chocolate fudge.

20. What are your favourite colours?
White and Blue.

21. What are your least favourite things?
Pretentious pricks and ‘bangla band music’.

22. How many people do you have a crush on right now?
I hate this word. One of the most ambiguous words ever.

23. Who do you miss most right now?
I have enough of most people everyday and so at the end of it I don’t miss anyone.

24. What are you listening to right now?
It’s Probably Me – Sting and Eric Clapton.

25. If you were a crayon, what colour would you be?
Deep Red.

26. What is the weather like right now?
Pleasant and breezy.

27. Last person you talked to on the phone?
Ma.

28. The "first" thing you notice about the opposite sex?
Eyes.

29. Do you like the person who sent you this?
I absolutely detest him for actually making me do this. I detest him anyway.

30. How are you today?
High on life!

31. Favourite nonalcoholic drink?
Chilled Black Grape Juice.

32. Favourite alcoholic drink?
Bailey’s Irish Cream! Yummm!

33. Natural hair colour?
Jet Black.

34. Eye colour?
Jet Black.

35. Wear contacts?
No. Wouldn’t want to either.

36. Siblings?
None at all.

37. Favourite month?
December.

38. Favourite food?
Mom’s Chingri maachher maalai curry!

39. Favourite day of the year or week?
The day the book fair starts.

40. Have you ever been too shy to ask someone out?
No. On the very rare occasions when I have, I did so without even thinking. People tend to think otherwise.

41. Scary movies or happy endings?
Scary movies…they are so much fun!!

42. Summer or winter?
Winter. Should have been born in LLapland. I hear it’s pretty cold there all the time. I love snow!

43. Do you want your friends to write back?
Always.

44. Who is most likely to respond?
I make sure everyone responds.

45. What book/magazine are you reading?
Thomas Harris – Red Dragon.

46. What's on your mouse pad?
Some wildlife photograph. It’s been there for about 5 years now

47. What did you watch on TV last night?
I robot.

48. Favourite smell?
Smell of wet grass. I miss my school football matches.

49. Have you ever regretted breaking up with someone?
Ha ha ha ha. Have I regretted anything I have ever done?

50. Most tiresome thing you’ve ever experienced/done?
Stoopeed people. I experience them everyday.

Whatever...

Haven't posted for a long time. Didn't feel like, didn't know what to write. Not that nothing interesting has happened in the last few weeks, its just that i found it stupid to actually sit down and narrate all these things. Its the post-exam blues i guess... the overwhelming lethargy at home and the uncontrollable urge to stay outdoors all the time.

Heard a lot of Hip Pocket in the past week at SPE and elsewhere. Sumit is superhuman! He is technically beyond perfect! Never seen anyone do all that without using a pick... I'm so proud to be a fingerstyle guitarist!! I still have hope...

Dont know why I keep going back to these stoopeed band competitions. I guess the stage is too alluring for performance artists. We came second (as usual) 'outperformed' by a band who covered Fossils! Thats the irony of my life. But thats it, no more 'competitions' for me. Its time to move on and let 'bangla rock' music claim its dominion over the college music scene! I have decided to wage war against them at some other front, some place where it will hurt them the most...*evil grin*

I thought performing covers was a learning process where you get to know stuff from musicians better than yourselves. For example, a guitarist covering a Pink Floyd song would aim to play exactly as David Gilmour played it and in the process learn a lot about a lot of things which would help him later when he attempts to compose his own songs. So a good band normally attempts to perform covers of difficult songs so as to improve their overall skills and technicalities. If thats the case the what the hell are these bands trying to prove by covering fossils, cactus and all those substandard, shitty bands? If this is the state of the college music scene then the future of Calcutta's music scene is bleak. Imagine going to Someplace Else to hear a band performing covers of Cactus! I'd rather end my life on a barrel full of vodka!

Anyway, life goes on...

I hate stoopeed tags but this one was pending for a long time, and I shall, as always, reluctantly oblige:

My perfect woman (sigh) :

1. Should be talkative ('coz I'm not) but should also be capable of intelligent conversation (I should be able to survive without using earplugs).

2. Should be a foodie and drinkie like me.

3. Has to be adventurous, ready to go places and do things at the drop of a hat.

4. Should not be whiny. I detest people who whine all the time.

5. Has to have a good sense of humour or else she wont survive 5 minutes with me.

6. Does not have to be drop dead gorgeous, decently cute ones will do.

7. Should not be pretentious and superficial. I have a natural filter against these kind of people.

8. Should enjoy dancing with me in the rain!

(Damn, can't believe that i actually wrote that!! Ha ha ha!)

I hate tagging people with such useless stuff so i spare all ye unsuspecting bloggers.

Now thats what i call a strange post!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, .....

I have decided to hurl obscenities and sharp metallic objects at any instance of ‘bangla-band music’ or propagators of the same that I chance to encounter. This is UNCONDITIONAL. (The story behind this is long and disgusting and I’m not in the correct frame of mind to narrate it.)

Dancing with the Green Fairy.

Absinthe (from French, from Latin absinthium, ancient Greek apsinthion, "wormwood") is a high-alcohol anise-flavored liquor derived from herbs including the flowers and leaves of the medicinal plant Artemisia absinthium, also called wormwood.

If you’ve heard of absinthe at all, you’ve probably heard that it is a strong, hallucinogenic liqueur banned for causing insanity in those who drink it. The reputation of this green-tinted aniseed drink has long-suffered from misunderstandings and misconceptions about both its defaults as well as its qualities.

Originally used in the mid-1800s by the French army in North Africa as a health tonic to prevent disease and purify water, soldiers brought the taste back to the cafés of Belle Epoque Paris. It soon became the most popular aperitif in France, particularly among the bourgeoisie, who referred to their pre-dinner glass of absinthe as L’Heure Verte (the Green Hour). People began turning to the minty drink less for pains of the stomach than for pains of the soul. Absinthe came to be associated with artists and Moulin Rouge bohemians. Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Van Gogh, and Picasso were devotees. Toulouse-Lautrec carried some in a hollowed-out cane. Oscar Wilde wrote, "What difference is there between a glass of absinthe and a sunset?" Soon absinthe was the social lubricant of choice for a broad swath of Europeans - artists and otherwise. In 1874, the French sipped 700,000 liters of the stuff; by the turn of the century, consumption had shot up to 36 million liters. By the early 20th century, absinthe was becoming popular in America. It found a natural reception in New Orleans, where the bon temps were already rolling. But the drink was drawing fire for its thujone content. "It is truly madness in a bottle, and no habitual drinker can claim that he will not become a criminal," declared one politician. The anti-absinthe fervor climaxed in 1905, when Swiss farmer Jean Lanfray shot his pregnant wife and two daughters after downing two glasses. (Overlooked was what else Lanfray consumed that day: crème de menthe, cognac, seven glasses of wine, coffee with brandy, and another liter of wine.) By the end of World War I, the "green menace" was made illegal everywhere in western Europe except Spain. No reputable distillery still made it.

Traditionally absinthe is poured into a glass over which a specially designed, slotted spoon is placed. A sugar cube is then deposited in the bowl of the spoon. Ice cold water is poured or dripped over the sugar until the drink is diluted 3:1 to 5:1. During this process, the components that are not soluble in water come out of solution and cloud the drink; that milky opalescence is called the louche (French: "opaque" or "shady"). A modern and more dramatic "fire ritual" was invented by a Czech manufacturer, in which the sugar cube is drenched in absinth and set on fire. Water is then added to douse the flames and dissolve the caramelized sugar. Generally, less water is added than in the traditional method.

The chief component of Absinthe’s notoriety is wormwood. Wormwood has had a long (and sometimes unhappy) relationship with man. The first mention of the herb is in the Ebers papyrus, a medical document dating to 1550 B.C. The Egyptians used it as a vermifuge, as did many later cultures, and the name "wormwood" may refer to this property of ridding the body of worms. The Bible refers to wormwood a dozen times. Again, the symbolism is of bitterness. For instance, in Proverbs 5:4:

For the lips of an adulteress drip honey,
And smoother than oil is her speech;
But in the end she is bitter as wormwood,
Sharp as a two-edged sword.
Her feet go down to death,
Her steps lay hold of Sheol.

The most well-known reference, though, is in Revelations:
And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters; And the name of the star is called Wormwood: and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.
Legend has it that this plant first sprang up on the impressions marking the serpent's tail as he slithered his way out of Eden. According to folk beliefs, wormwood was reputed to deprive a man of his courage, but a salve made from it was supposed to be effective in driving away goblins who came at night.

After nearly a century of illegality, France quietly lifted the ban on absinthe production in 1988, and it has returned to the market with much fanfare. Absinthe is once again legal to produce and sell in practically every country where alcohol is legal, the one major exception being the United States. Despite the fanciful descriptions of visions and enhanced mental clarity, absinthe is nothing more than a strong alcoholic aperitif with a sweet aniseed flavor that can be enjoyed for its taste alone – in moderation, of course!

Nyaahmlaaphlablooo...

I hate the selections, I hate exams, I hate the heat, I hate data structures, I hate operating systems, I hate electronics, I hate computer architecture and logic design, I hate graph theory, I hate numerical methods, I hate operations research, I hate finite automata. I think that covers everything, atleast syllabus-wise. Oh, the drudgery! No social life for a week!! I don't even have time to write anymore!! Grrrrrr....

Huh? What?

I have not slept for 36 hours now. From 9th Feb 1130a.m. to 10th Feb 1130p.m., no 39 winks for me. 36 straight hours of wide-awake-ness. I dont know why kept myself from sleeping, I could have, early in the morning and in the evenig, but i didn't. Strange. It's like I took a break from sleeping for a day. That's not so bad is it. The experience is quite interesting. I've never been awake for such a long stretch ever. I've had frequent mood swings after the first 12 hours, mild hallucinations and a general feeling of weirdness. There were short bursts of intense concentration too, almost a trance like state, very productive. Aaah! I know what you people are thinking! You think I've been studying all this while. Well, I studied for about 7 hours in the initial period but not after that at all. Trust me. Now I'm blogging about it. Why am I doing that either? I can't recall what I wrote in the previous sentence. Strange isn't it? I'm listening to Sting's 'Ten Summoner's Call' album. My head is shaking involuntarily to the music, atleast that's what I think. I'm still keeping myself awake though... it's 1150p.m. You think I'll crash after this? Think I'll sleep for 12 hours now? Think I'll continue being awake till I reach 48 hours?... I'll let my mind decide, since now it's got a mind of it's own...

Catcher?

Just finished reading ‘Catcher in the Rye’… haven’t read such a nice book in a long time, never perhaps. It killed me!!
I hate some people without actually knowing why I hate them. I mean, I have no issues against them but I thoroughly detest them anyway. I don’t go out of my way to hate them, I just do. Sounds strange but seems quite normal to me…
I think everybody is a phoney… including myself. I think people cant help being phoney at some level or the other. It’s just a part of being a social creature. Some people are really terrible in acting phoney and these people I hate utterly…
I just loved Holden Caulfield… I think we have much in common and are yet so fundamentally different. Why, because I don’t flunk all my subjects? Do I want to be him? At some level yes… but as I said I’m a phoney too… have to get back to my books. Enough nonsensical rambling, as if electronics was not depressing enough! Exams hrmph!

Radio Update 1

Updated the radioblog. Something is wrong with the first three songs, will fix them soon. I put some really haunting songs on the playlist - Something in the way, Exit music, Everybody Hurts... And since I like a crazy playlist I put in Train of Angels and Comfortably Numb! Check out the U2 cover of the Elvis classic 'Fools Ruch In'. I think it's brilliantly done with the tabla and all. Tell me what you think about the song selection and any requests...

A fair to remember!

Ok, here is my stash:
Thomas Harris – Red Dragon, Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal.
Bill Bryson – The Lost Continent, Notes from a Small Island.
Tom Holt – The Divine Comedies: Here Comes the Sun and Odds and Gods.
DBC Pierre – Vernon God Little.
Jonathan Shroud – The Amulet of Samarkhand.
Le Carre – The Taylor of Panama.
Len Deighton – Game.
George Orwell – 1984.
Big Book of Crosswords.

Crazzzy

Ok...I have to stop going to the book fair! It was crazy there today... it was like a trinamul rally! I cant help myself, it's like an addiction kind of... i went to the fair almost everyday in the past week. I promise, tomorrow will be the last. Will go early, at about 12 and come out early... just 2 more books to buy and then i'm broke for the rest of the month, will any of you give me food???

Today was a fun day... went to Scoop near outram ghat after a short stint at the fair, and then to coffee pai and then to barista. Ate a lot! (shit, now i'm really gonna have to beg for money!)

All the fun ends tomorrow :-( ... guess why?

Escape from hell!!

They tried to gas us to death today!!!

I knew it all along, the physics practical exam was just a decoy...they wanted me. They lured me into the gas chamber (physics lab) and isolated me in an adjoining room saying that the apparatus was brand new there. They gave me an exeriment which i could not say no to, because i had already done it thrice. They also put a few more people in the room just to make it look authentic. To top it all they had no teachers there, so we were having a bit of fun, when they GASSED the room. It was slow poisoning. For three hours we were in the room inhaling the gas without suspecting anything. I had a headache but dismissed it as a effect of waking up too early. But then came the first casualty...

This girl was quietly looking into the travelling microscope a few feet away when she started shaking and fell off the chair, microscope and all. She fainted! The alarm was raised and there were people jumping and running about. The proffessors looked very concerned (but it was all a fake, i know). Before I could ask her what happened, she was promptly taken away...

The other guy started whining about how he thought he might faint too and left the room screaming! Paddy was there too, he felt so sick that he had to leave the hall without finishing his exam...They tried to cover up saying that it was a gas leak from the chemistry lab! Huh!

I think they did not expect so many collateral damages, so they sent someone to pretend to fix up the pipeline. But i could see through all their plans. I couldnt let them get the better of me, so i finished all my experiments with a splitting headache and left the lab with a swagger (bond style!). Take that you scheming bastards!!

Seriously, someone could have been badly poisoned today...they should have better safety measures.

I hope the girl survived.

Oh! after that, i took a painkiller and went to the book fair!!

To Shundi and Back...

I loved Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne! You just can’t get over it. It is so much fun every time you see it! And there were grandfathers with their grandchildren watching the movie, the atmosphere was soooo nostalgic! I loved it!

Going to the book fair tomorrow (for the second time). And then to the jazz concert at DI.

Not touched my books in a long time. Flunking my selections for sure. Who does a man turn to in such dire times?

Black, White and Red

He loved to see her smoke. She just sat there on the red plastic chair and smoked her third cigarette, trying to make smoke rings but failing every time. It somehow made him feel good to see her doing that. Why? He didn’t know. Just made him feel happy. He didn’t want a reason.
“So, where is this leading to?”, she turned her head slowly and fixed her eyes on him.
“Huh? ...What?”, he managed.
“Where is our non-existent conversation heading towards?”, she explained, slowly drawing in the smoke.
“Oh!” he said, gathering himself, “Well, nowhere in particular but then again, there is a finite probability that it’s heading towards an infinite number of conclusions.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”, she retorted, blowing out slowly towards him.
He blew back playfully at the smoke, “Well, it’s very non-existence implies an infinite imaginary existences, and…”
“So, what you mean to say is that…”, she cut him off.
“…Is that instead of taking something to be non-existent, why not imagine a whole plethora of possibilities in its place. It’s a cool thing to think about.”
“So, that’s what you like to do all the time? Sit and imagine?”, she asked, looking up at the garden umbrella.
“No, not really. I just like to keep my head open to all possibilities. You see, the universe is governed by the Uncertainty Principle and what it basically says is that the universe is intrinsically probabilistic: nothing is absolutely certain. So if nothing is absolutely certain, there is a small but finite uncertainty associated with it. This small uncertainty gives rise to an infinity of alternate possibilities.”, he paused for effect.
“Hmmm…”, she pondered. The cigarette had almost burnt out.
“So, we can’t be entirely certain about the non-existence of the conversation and hence we must accept the fact that there could have been an infinite number of conversations between us during that brief moment…”
“Have you always been this logically inclined?”, she enquired, flicking the cigarette butt away.
“Well, most of the time, I speak utter nonsense. Like the last few minutes in our conversation. And the interesting part is people are easily convinced that whatever I say is very serious and ‘logical’. Not for a second do they think that I have been pulling their legs all along. I like it that way…”
“Hmmm…really?”, she said, smiling a bit.

Radio Ga Ga!

Yay! I finally got the radioblog setup! Oh! I’m so excited! I thank Erebus for showing me the way, for being the guiding light! Could never have done it without you! I thank God for all the persistence he has given me (and all the brain cells he forgot to put in - I tried in vain for two months to get this thing to work)! I thank my broadband connection for always being there when I needed it! Oh! I’m so nervous! I’m sorry if I missed out some of your names! Thank you, all of you! This the most spiritually satisfying day of my life!

Hehe…

Ok! So I’ve got music on my blog now… As you can see it’s a random selection. I love listening to a random playlist. These are some of my favorites and I have quite a lot of them. Actually each of them is special in some way…lessee…
Top Gun Anthem – The first riff I ever learnt.
Creep – Reminds me of myself (though others might disagree)!
Time – The first Pink Floyd song that I ever heard (dad’s favorite).
Ordinary World – Very nostalgic, dad used to listen when I was really small.
Riders on the Storm – Blew me away, Ray is too cool.
And I Love Her – The first song I sang on stage.
Drops of Jupiter – Inspired me to write poetry!
Coyote – The coolest song I’ve ever heard!
No Rain – The only song that I have ever danced to.
Losing my Religion – My guitar debut.
Brain Damage, Eclipse – The only song I can sing well.
Layla – I worship Clapton.
With a Little Help – well…the Wonder Years…need I say more?
Purple Haze – My bass debut.
Zombie – My bathroom tune!
One Wild Night – Bon Jovi was my favorite band through most of my teenage years.
Song Remains the Same – The song and the movie that got me hooked to Led Zep.

I will change the playlist fortnightly. I can take requests as well!
Your favorite RBJ, signing off!

Jazzy...!!

Had a good time today at the jazz fest. Witnessed some alternative as well as classy and sophisticated jazz acts. The first trio was from Pondicherry called 'Three Raags' and their music was a kind of fusion of different styles. The bassist, Mishko M'ba, was amazing! He played a fretless with a bronze plated neck! And guess what, I got his phone number! We asked him to conduct a workshop, hopefully it will work out. After that there was the Eric Lohrer Quartet who played very classy stuff and the saxophonist was brilliant!
That sounded like a 10 year old writing about his picnic trip to his grandmother! Anyway...

This is something I came by: Something from the Washington Post which has a yearly contest where readers have to supply alternate meanings for common words. The winners are:

1. Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained
3. Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
6. Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absent-mindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
7. Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle (n.), olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism (n.), The belief that, when you die, your Soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

Very witty aren't they?!

Paranoid Androids

Oh god it was horrible! I witnessed the hallucinations of a sexually frustrated ‘poet’ and a ‘dance’ performance by 4 ladies who bore a strong resemblance to Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz. It was awful, obscene even! There was something about robots and their genitalia, a lot of lilac objects, a disappointed virginity and a whole lot of other vaguely fantastic but sexually oriented imagery. It was a phantasmagoria of galactic proportions – in the league of the Azgoths of Kria (Once during a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem “Ode to a small lump of green putty I found in my armpit one midsummer morning” four of his audience died of internal hemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his legs off). Makes you wonder about the poet’s personal and social life – a perennial loser!
Oh! The dance! It was straight out of Zee Horror Show – B-class, low budget horror ‘dance’. There were pieces of cloth and plastic sheets and strange markings on the plastic sheets. The background narration sounded like a 1940’s recording. It was a conversation between a poet and a non-poet which was somewhat amusing. But the ghastly dance was so unnerving I could barely understand anything said or done around me. I was mute and in shock! I’m not at all exaggerating (maybe presenting it differently), Loony can confirm.
The other poets were decent though. And the seahorse got so emotional while reading her poem that she could barely be heard. There was a decent crowd though, mostly family and friends probably, but sizeable anyway. And the poems were deeply appreciated. And there were enthusiastic camerapersons desperately trying to capture the moments. A couple of cell phones fell from the hands of their shocked owners. Overall it was a queer experience. Oh! By the way…I didn’t buy the book!! I was lucky to escape with my mental stability intact! I know I’ll get a phone call soon… Anyway...

Jazzfest 2006 - Dalhousie Institute - 21st, 22nd Jan - Do not Miss!

Looking forward to the jazz fest today, good music can do wonders to people in deep shock!

Hrmph...

It makes me mad when some people say that they are not studying. It burns me from inside when I tell people that I just started a topic and they tell me, “Arre tui-o porchhish, seems like I’m the only person not studying.” And it makes me erupt when I know that these very people go home from college at 2 o’ clock and they study 5 hours everyday mugging up programs and whenever they see me going through any textbook they come up with snide comments. One of these days I just might throttle one of them.
There will be a gathering of pseudo-intellectual antels tomorrow at a nearby bookstore, they will be attempting to release a compilation of poems written by five schizophrenics. And two of the authors want me to be there and buy a book!! It’ll be a real torture I’m sure. I really detest most of the people who are going to be present there. Why do I call them schizophrenics? That’s because they live in an illusionary universe of their own where LSD influenced hallucinations are a necessary part of everyday life. The poems they write are manifestations of those. Anyway, people find beautiful and deep meanings in the poems so I must say that they have quite a fan following.
Just a few more days of college and then its all over – I will go into solitary confinement. I think I’ll enjoy it this time *sinister laugh*.

Yawn...

Life is so dull and boring I have to pinch myself to believe it! College can get so uninteresting sometimes… last time I attended a class was a week ago… last time I had an interesting conversation was… er…uhmm…can’t remember. The time that I waste is phenomenal…sitting around, sulking at the universe, eating, playing basketball and returning home – a six hour long outing!
When I get bored I have this strangely uncomfortable sensation in my stomach and I have to breathe hard to get rid of it, and then I stop talking… I completely shut myself off, I ignore all the people around me and I get extremely grinchy! Its not nice at all, I know.

I have become overtly unsocial lately. Its like I force myself not to socialize. I cant expect a good, interesting conversation from anywhere, even for five minutes.
Or is it just me? Maybe its time to change… maybe I’m the boring guy, maybe I am not capable of keeping up a conversation, maybe it’s the other way around: people find me boring.
I think its time to really sit down and study. No time to socialize, just sit at home and study. Exams are round the corner anyway.
Or… maybe its time to unleash my alter ego – the Flirt! Let’s see if that helps…

Meatwhore - Genesis

Thwarted by the palisade of a hundred connotations, the arrows of ardor disperse in a mist of impuissance while the object of all deliberations stands proud in all her resplendence and glory. The surreptitious advances are drowned in a sea of non-acknowledgement. Harking back to the extravagant display of blatant ignorance, the belligerent thoughts subside gracefully.
The clandestine moments differentially experienced in the labyrinths of a sanguineous war dutifully reflect on the delirious intentions of a chained identity but the songs of a distant earth are inebriated amidst the undulations of insanity.
The creator stumbles upon a forgotten past and love melts away.

Have a SSSSMOKIN' new year!!

I gave the blog a new year’s gift…a brand new animated background! Looks cool doesn’t it?
31st night was an unique experience. I went to Haldia for a holiday far away from the extravagant nightlife, the incessant revelry, the overcrowded restaurants and the stooped DJ music. No Someplace Else for me this year! I spent the first few hours of my new year smoking Insignia and bitching about the entire planet with three friends. One of them is a classmate at whose place I was staying over. He loves playing cards and talking. He can carry on for hours. But he is a very nice guy. Thanks for inviting us Dipu!! The other two were from Calcutta. One of them is in BCom. He’s one hell of a businessman. He is working like mad to get his business started and he’s the most ambitious person I’ve ever seen. He’ll be a millionaire someday, I’m sure! I wish him all the luck. The second one is an eclectic individual. He can have a conversation with ANY girl and his taste in music is by any standards ‘strange’. But the best thing about him is that he has no hassle’s in life, completely carefree. Tell him to do anything or come along anywhere and he will oblige without hesitation.
We were discussing how some people could not come with us for various reasons. Someone had guests coming over, another faced problems from the family, another had to attend a tea party with his tyrannical grandmom and so on and so forth. It was possible for some to come if only they tried a bit harder. I went through that phase in class 10. Innumerable night-outs and endless adda-s were met with unending reprimand. It went on for days…every single aspect of my life was criticized but I was persistently defiant. But now it’s all cool. Not because they can’t control me anymore but because they have grown to trust me now. And so whatever I do, it’s cool with them!
I felt sorry for the people who I couldn’t even ask knowing that their answer would be ‘no’. Especially the ladies, they would love to join us. They are missing out the most amazing aspect of life – adventure. I hope some of them can join us for our next trip…
Ok…so, the new year begins thus. I somehow have a very bad feeling about this year…like something unpleasant is going to happen. I loved 2005, it was just too perfect. I came up with three resolutions for the new year: 1. Talk more 2. Smile more 3. Secret. Hope I can keep them.
Wishing everyone a SSSMOOKIN’ (‘Mask’ style) new year!!

Nothing Much

Stoopeed Radioblog thingy…cant get it to work at all. Totally turned me off…3 damned hours in vain.
Anyway, here are some pics of my moment of inspiration:

Where it all started - Arunda's Canteen

The words which created a legend!

Some people say that I’m overdoing it, but actually I’m quite enjoying the fame, the controversy, the bitching and the direct abusing.
Got to go now, have to make my list of new year resolutions…I’m looking forward to them (hehe!).

The M-theory

What happens when you listen to Mozart early in the morning? Umm…let me see…
Woke up to missed calls from my secret admirer (some stooped hutch number), half past 10…classes start at 9.50, hardware practical, electronics lab. Brushing and music get along very well, so I put on Mozart Symphony 39 in E-flat major. All hangovers vanished in a flash, I could conquer the universe, I was God.
Reached college at 12.30, recess, canteen. Was greeted with a standing ovation. Why? Because I got selected for the poetry writing competition!!!! Even more shocking was the fact that I allegedly came first!!!!! Guess who came second…the seahorse!!! That not only makes me a legendary figure in the computer science department, it also proves what a farce this whole poetry thing is. Some people have spend their entire lives reading poetry and the history of English literature and god knows what so that they can compose good poems with deep implications. And then this wannabe from the science department comes along, writes utter crap with no meaning at all let alone deep hidden connotations, and gets selected to represent the College in the poetry writing competition!!! All the great poets in the college must be bitching about me!! That makes me feel sooooo good! The not so good part is that I have to write more of that crap for the finals.
1.00 – HOD’s class, software practical…useless class, never learnt anything from it…went to Bar-B-Q instead. SS gave a treat and again I had to pay a part of it…he can never give a treat where I don’t have to pay.
Went back to college, found it to be extremely boring, so fixed up an appointment with my boss at Zeeshan. Amidst intensive discussions about work, I was treated to Softy Kebab (cute name for a kabab, isn’t it?).
Then it was time for my fusion band practice. On the way, my good jazz pianist friend decided to take a roshogolla detour. He insisted that the shopkeeper should provide hot roshogollas and so they heated them up!!...in a microwave!! Now how many of you can claim to have roshogolla heated up in a microwave?? It was definitely a first for me.
The practice was perfect: no drunk people demanding we play John Denver, no offbeat drumming, no volume control problems, no smart-alec comments. There were people dancing to keep rhythm and the drummer shouting out to stop us from adding more complications to the track.. This band has a future, I can sense it…
Back at home I had to cook chicken (parents are on a holiday, I’m alone in the house! yay yay!). I had shredded and sautéed chicken with roti, caramel custard and “Enchanted Forest” (my own invention) which is a cocktail made of vodka, aam panna, green chillies, Tabasco sauce, lime and mint leaves.
Thus ended a day which was as perfect as it gets. This is what happens when you listen to Mozart in the morning. Try it and tell me about your experiences.

Meatwhore.

Trying to figure out what all of that meant, slipping straight into the realms of dastardly behavior. Farcical afterthoughts floating about in a soup of accented visions. Backdoors to the dreamy infusions subtly ruined by the slow osmosis of outrageous manifestations. Fictitious blackouts of all reason and intelligence amidst agnostic glitterati. All the while the fragments of a latitudinarian imagination conjured up an illusion of focused revelry.
“Can you feel it?”
“Where is it coming from?”
“Just enjoy it.”
“I can’t see it.”
“Well, obviously.”
I was there when it happened. I saw it all. Vacuous phrases all tumbling down the slopes into the shadowy depths. Gaping crevasses all ready to devour the unsuspecting. A delusive hope still persisted amidst the cacophony of deliberations and yet the peak was unattainable.
“I still can’t see it.”
She looked back to find nobody there. I wasn’t there. I could see her look straight through me. She would never find it. Without my help at least. Now I was lost too. She just stood there on the verge of calculated hysteria. I was there, just by her side. I saw it all.

Groovy!

My favourite dance scene...the definition of cool!

"I do believe Marsellus Wallace, my husband, your boss, told you to take ME out and do WHATEVER I WANTED. Now I wanna dance, I wanna win. I want that trophy, so dance good. "

Mia: Don't you hate that?

Vincent: What?

Mia: Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?

Vincent: I don't know. That's a good question.

Mia: That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.

Mia: Vincent, do you still want to hear my Fox Force Five joke?

Vincent: Sure, but I think I'm still a little too petrified to laugh.

Mia: No, you wont laugh, 'cus it's not funny. But if you still wanna hear it, I'll tell it.

Vincent: I can't wait.

Mia: Three tomatoes are walking down the street- a poppa tomato, a momma tomato, and a little baby tomato. Baby tomato starts lagging behind. Poppa tomato gets angry, goes over to the baby tomato, and smooshes him... and says, "Ketch-up."

What Pulp Fiction Character are you? You are the king of smooth -- enough said. Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.

Bravo! Bravo!

I just want to put this on record: I had the privilege of accompanying two very talented ladies for the solo singing auditions and i have to say that they were really impressive. Both Angira and Ananya sang brilliantly despite the fact that i was regularly screwing up with the chords. Debarati was also very good, she was amazingly steady on the guitar and covered up for my mistakes. And the crowd simply loved them!

What a lucky guy I am! Hope they win... Expecting a treat..hehe.

Absolutist’s Day Out – Part 3 (Well, Not Really!!)

“You called me a seahorse on your blog…,” the slur was all too familiar.
“Well?...,”
“Why did you call me a seahorse?” some people are so eager to get insulted!
“Isn’t it evident,”
(Wide satisfied grin) That got rid of her, again! She’s damn persistent, don’t you think?

“Do you have time to practice?”
“I think I do…”
Some people have serious attitude problems. What kind of a tone is that? It’s true that she has auditions today and I am supposed to accompany her and we haven’t practiced the song properly, but even then… “Do you have time…,” What kind of a remark is that? The song’s easy for me to play, I just have to go on stage and play a few chords, that’s it. What’s all the fuss about? She’s looking at me as if I was a convicted rapist. Oh well, I don’t think I’ll ever understand women. They are so exquisitely complicated.

Talking of women, I can never understand why some can be so self-depreciating. All they can do is criticize every inch of their physical and spiritual being and feel happy about it. Someone who can sing well will convince herself that she’s no good, someone who can play the guitar well will convince herself that she won’t get anywhere because she lacks passion and others just believe that life is boring. And the strange fact is that they support their views fanatically. Nothing can convince them otherwise. You can see for yourself, just visit some random blogs by females. Generally, the posts start out pretty well but in the end it’s always something to do with how superficial they are, how incompetent they find themselves to be and how much they ate and how fat they are becoming. Isn’t there more to life than just that. And some call ME self-absorbed!

How can you listen to U2 and read Harry Potter at the same time? There can be two reasons for doing so, 1. Your auditory and visual senses work independently, which is a physiological miracle or 2. You just want to look cool with the headphones on and also want people to notice that you are reading. What do you make of it??

No, no, no! It is not happening any more. The flow is not there at all. The preceding sentences were forced and did not come naturally. The writing too doesn’t have that punch. I think I should give it a rest for a while. Perhaps I’m not in the mood to murder people. I’m sure it won’t take long to get mad at life and society again! Till then this 5-part series is……

Absolutist’s Day Out – Part 2

VERY IMPORTANT : If you are a student of my esteemed college – READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

“Riders on the storm,
There’s a killer on the road,
His brain is squirming like a toad,
Take a long holiday,
Let your children play….”

‘Longevity – predominantly, though not exclusively – is the prerogative of a literary school which is virtually non-existent today: Romanticism…Romanticism is the conceptual school of art…
Howard Roark laughed…’

The music is much more worthwhile listening to.
“Into this house we're born,
Into this world we're thrown,
Like a dog without a bone,
An actor out alone,
Riders on the storm…”
It’s a round white sun-mica coated piece of wood balanced on a tree stub – the traditional college canteen table. There are eight people sitting around it. A pile of bags rests on the centre of the table. All eight people have books open in front of them and coffee/tea somewhere nearby. None of them are doing what they appear to be doing.
“Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel…”

“Accha shon, magnetometer experiment-e tor M/Bh value koto eschhe?”
- “Aamar khata khule dekhene.”

Does he know what is M and what is Bh, what a magnetometer does? Does he even know the point of the experiment? The only thing he can do is act important and say things about which he has no clue.
“let it roll, baby roll
let it roll, baby roll
let it roll, baby roll
let it roll, all night long.”

“Ki holo, shob shomaye ghum ghum keno? Shara raat porechho nishchoyi?”
- “Na re, vodka hangover”
“ha ha ha, tai?”
What the hell is he laughing at? Look at him, in his excruciatingly yellow shirt with huge red and green checks. Works out everyday, talk about fast bikes and cars, carries an overtly expensive cell phone and hates to take money out of his pockets – your regular jerk. His only achievement in life is doing a rain dance with the gorilla (yes, I mean, the gorilla!) And what is that ‘tumi tumi’ thing? No wonder people suspect him to be gay. The first time I heard about him was when he had a crush on the most ugly girl in our class. Man…what a sad life!
“well, i woke up this morning, i got myself a beer,
well, i woke up this morning, i got myself a beer,
the future's uncertain and the end is always near.”

“Hi!”
- “Hi!”
“I’m organizing war-of-the-rappers, finally!”
- “Good for you”
God! More of his kind! As if one rapper was not bad enough, they are going to have battalions of them!

“Hey! Wassup??”
- “Nothing really. But we’ve got practice today, remember?”
“Hey, I really cant make it dude, I’ve got to meet this jazz pianist blah blah blah…”
Meet the legendary Marru jazz pianist! The most busiest person on earth. He suffers from a phase lag of two months. Any work given to him goes through a fortnight of contemplation, another of processing, another of complete erasure from memory, a week of recollection and the final week of actually doing something. He stands on a huge mound of arrogance, is a world record holder in boasting and gives most people he doesn’t like a very hard time. In a sentence, it’s very hard working with him. Does that bother me?...Naaah!

“If you wanna hang out you've got to take her out, cocaine.
If you wanna get down, down on the ground, cocaine.”
The canteen is such a sad place. Hadn’t it been for the cheap coffee, I wouldn’t think of coming here. Just look around, what a boring bunch of people! The Bcom guys, who stay in college from 10 to 4 just to ‘look’ at girls passing by hoping to get laid someday. The first years, who think they will not make to second year if they don’t study for the class test. Aha! How could I miss her – white top, red jacket and blue jeans. Probably the most glamorous girl in college. English Honours third year I presume. She is just perfect. I could stare at her all day…
“Layla, you got me on my knees.
Layla, I'm begging darling please.
Layla, darling won't you ease my worried mind.”

‘…He knew that the days ahead would be difficult. There were questions to be faced and a plan of action to be prepared. He knew he should think about it. He knew also that he wouldn’t think, because everything was clear to him already, because the plan had been set long ago, and because he wanted to laugh…”

Sigh!

Absolutist's Day Out - Part 1

VERY IMPORTANT : If you are a student of my esteemed college – READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

“..sho you see, the randome probe-a-bility dish-tribootion eez a phunction oph eksh gibhen by the dobol integral blah blah blah…”, the bell ended the agony. Place: room 42, Time: 1230pm, Subject: Maths (probability), Professor: A prospective farmer from the North 24-parganas who could not express any mathematical idea to save himself. The only time he used probability theory was ‘probably’ while buying cows to guess their virility. He had just joined as a part timer.
Prof.: Wheare were you for all this periods?? (there was a distinct tone in his voice of a farmer haggling over the price of rice-seeds.)
Me : Sir, you sent me out of class a month ago.
Prof.: Sho, aajke eshchho keno?? (just got a ten rupee discount on the price of a bag of seeds)
Me.:Thik achhe sir, porer din theke aashbo naa.
Prof.: Dekho, aamar aar tomar moddhe kono shotroota nei. (help, where are my cows?)
Me.: Yes sir, ofcourse not.
Prof.: Dekho class na kora bhalo noi, porer din theke regular class koro. (brilliant harvest!)
Me.: Cheshta korbo.
Last time I did his class, he did not like my guts, asked me to leave if I was not interested. Well…I left, obviously. Where do they get these people? He has a lot to learn.

This fat guy wobbles up to me and in his siren-like voice says, “kire? Porer din theke class korbi toh?” I head for the stairs, “Nah”. He gives an incredulous look, shrugs his shoulders and stares at a girl passing by.

Still walking down the stairs…it’s a long walk. The reading room on the right. A place haunted by academically frustrated individuals who try to show off their non-existent intelligence by staring at the thickest books available on the most obscure subjects in their curriculum. I hope they find peace someday.

Ah, the field, the sun! Damn those school children, always running about and screaming! I forgive them all, I feel like… A girl passes by glaring at me for a moment. What the hell! What did I do to her? Yes, I hate her character and the people she hangs around with but I never told her that directly. Maybe someday I will. Somebody has to bring her down to earth. Being a good singer doesn’t mean everybody has to worship her. Wannabe Indian Idol…that’s a laugh!

“Hey G, wait!” Why cant she just leave me alone for a while? Cant she see I’m not in the mood? “Do you know what happened in class blah blah, and he just screamed at her, blah blah”; “Tai, how interesting…ami icecream khete jachhi.”

If there is one thing that can soothe my nerves, it’s a bar of choco-bar. Just cant wait… Well, well…those three are sitting there as usual. No point approaching them, they behave very strangely when together. Sometimes I get free icecream treats from one of them though! Nah…I’ll just say ‘Hi’ and move on. One of them smiles and says ‘Hello’, the other two behave as if I do not exist. Who cares! Let me just have the icecream.

Aah! The smooth cream and sweet chocolate…A hand appears out of nowhere and grabs at my icecream. Oh, its that seahorse again. I snatch the icream way and look at her as if she was a seahorse. She is umperturbed, “I’m hungry”, she says in a slur which is hardly understandable. “Go get your own stick”, What a prick! She looks at me as if I was the most evil man on earth and oscillates away. That will keep her away for a few days!!

Thank god my icecream is over, there comes my overtly boring classmates. “Doing the class??”, I ask, hoping for a negative answer. “Na na, PKC’s class, cannot miss.” I don’t think I will survive Electronics. But there is nothing else to do, so might as well.

Room number 6 is already half full. Specially the front benches. There’s the daughter of the HOD, dressed strangely as usual and with a Margaret Thatcher look on her face. She thinks she has a great personality…that’s why she hates me. The fifth bench is always empty because people know that I sit there, behind everyone else. “Hi! Shor, Boshte de”, she just barges into the seat. Oh, now I have to listen to her blabbering. All that gossip and bitching, and ofcourse I’m the only one who would listen. Atleast I wont fall off to sleep.

God! Those two have started again. It is just so annoying to sit near them. They just cant keep their hands off each other.

One period later, room 43, maths again. She looks so much better after the holidays, new hairstyle, new wardrobe. MIT, Stanford graduate, currently doing research. Stuff of dreams. She is very good at what she does. Most people think I have a major crush on her…well, most people think I have a crush on a lot of people. No, but I admire her. She’s definitely better than that farmer.

That was a good finish to a day of expressing unparalleled contempt towards fellow humans. I think I’ll play basketball for a while and then leave…

LIVE!!

.

This was probably the best time I had on stage! Everything was so perfect! A great venue, a good crowd and a magnificent performance...you are looking at pictures from 'Live at Heritage Institute Auditorium'!!

The song list was mixture of some classics and other utterly worthless compositions:

• Coming Back to Life - Pink Floyd
• Bandeh - Indian Ocean
• Mama I'm Coming Home - Ozzy
• Another Brick in the Wall - Pink Floyd
• Aadat - Jal
• Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Greenday
• Raatri - Original
• Icche Dana - Lakkhichhara

I'm particularly not too proud about the last song, but sometimes you have to do stuff just for the crowd.

The ocassion was the Heritage Institute Freshers Party and I was the guest guitarist because apparently there is no bassist in the entire college!! But most people say that this isn't true and that I was invited because I'm a good friend of the college band members. Well, I'm still not convinced...not all colleges are as rich in musical talent as Xavier's!!

Our lead guitarist - Utsav.

And thats me...the Blazing Bassist!!

When the ambience is good you dont have to concentrate on playing, you start enjoying the whole performance. That's the good thing about this auditorium, its a cool place to perform at. The crowd was very annoying at times though, requesting Iron Maiden, Fossils, Megadeth, Hindi film songs and one guy even had the guts to request Bombay Rockers. That is sickening!! On the whole I had a good time. By the way I was a bit high during the performance on a couple of Crocins and a fever of 102 degrees!! Thats why I look pale and always in the same pose!!

Sorry for the poor quality of the pics...the a.c. was too strong and the camera-person was shivering in the cold!!