Monday, July 16, 2007


Lazy sunday afternoon
some melancholy tune
our bodies entangled
the souls entwined

T’was so warm outside
but more warmth in her arms
i could just hide myself
by her side

i love you, i said
she smiled, kissed
its your imagination
was all she did mention

a whiff of chaffed thoughts
as fragile as the autumn leaves
sitting on the grass
gazing at all who pass

my love’s one such leaf
waiting by the side of the cliff
to catch a glimpse of you
to touch you .... once...

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Spit, Shit & Quit

I slipped in the bathroom and sprained my ankle and hit my head against the tub.

My girlfriend broke up with me in the morning.

The internship where I could have worked in summer got canceled.

I got ripped in the exams as the results indicate that I have to do another year.

I burnt my hand with oil while making lunch.

The coffee tastes shit.

The food is uneatable.

I feel fucked.

I can’t write music, songs.

No love, what a day! , Should I quit?

I tie my shoes, wear something, untie my hair and turn off the phone. I put on my headphones and come out in the sun.

Click, song 1. Lamb of God, laid to rest

Explosive drumming, pinch harmonics, slaps and pops on the bass, and it feels as if the lyrics are talking to you. It makes sense, YES it does. It says:

“If There Was A Single Day I Could Live,
A Single Breath I Could Take,
I'd Trade All The Others Away.

Smother Another Failure
Lay This To Rest

Console Yourself,
You're Better Alone,
Destroy Yourself,
See Who Gives A Fuck.

Absorb Yourself,
You're Better Alone,
Destroy Yourself.

The eyes lit up with a shine that never existed before. It’s like a stare, killing intriguing pointing stare, not at anyone else but you. You can’t see anything else but the road, and your feet. You can’t listen to anything else but music. The fine hairs at the back of the neck stand up. The spine suddenly feels a chill down there. There is a smile on the face.

A smile or a smirk? or a grin for that matter.

Suddenly it feels like living in another world altogether, where you can just say ‘fuck you’ and move ahead. The actions have no aftereffects. You don’t have to repent for anything you say or do.

Welcome to the world of heavy metal and rock music. It doesn’t judge you. It doesn’t criticize you. It always is there for you. It always makes sense.

Welcome to the world with no false pretensions. Where everything is so true and hard on your face, that it seems like you have found a new best friend. Something that talks to you and allow you to talk back. Allows you to discuss. It doesn’t have any prejudices nor does it shun your views. It makes you feel that your ideas, identity have some respect. They matter, they fucking matter.

I have been listening to this music actively since last 8 years and it has never let me down. It has been consistently stereotyped, dismissed and condemned. This music confronts what we often ignore, celebrates the things which we rather deny. It indulges in what we fear most. I have been defending this music since i was young. I do like other art forms, all other kinds of music, which makes me feel beautiful. Music which allows me to appreciate and love the beauty around me. Which adds to my vocabulary of emotions. Something which adds warmth to my feelings. Something which allows me to feel happy.

But, what about the other part of me. The other part of me which is evil. The other part of me which is so sick that just thinking about it can evoke suicidal tendencies. How do I live with this? How do I explain this which is in me, for that matter, (in all of us)?

What about vanity, jealousy.

What about unfair competition. What about the hatred generated from the media reports on war. What about the feeling when I saw a death happening in front of my eyes. What about when I see someone I love, fornicating with someone else.

What about that.

This music allows me to give a language to define these things. It tries to help me to find a solution. Sometimes, it tells me that the solution is not required at all. Let it harm you, you will learn.

Whenever I feel blue and I am choked, and I can’t write, and I can’t make music. I dig a small den, put on this music and forget about everything else. As headphones keep on blaring, I am immune to reality. I am immune to life. It’s the best anesthetic for all kinds of pain.

In the arms of it, I find love, warmth and comfort. I feel like cuddling and sleeping and never getting up.

Never Ever.

But one has to wake up. To worry about the girlfriend who broke up. To take care of the ankle which might be blue by now. To fix the exams, to fix the internship. To put some sugar in coffee. To put some silent butter on the olive bread.

One has to wake up to start up the actions again that might have shit repercussions, but who cares, as it would be another chance to dig a den, and look back at yourself.

It’s pretty hard, when someone tries to show the mirror back to you.

Isn’t it.



Tuesday, July 3, 2007

now you think i understand
she said, your truth, your lies
all my senses are spies
of your disgraced thoughts

pull me up close to you
she said, your warmth holds me
ramblings are untrue and sad
oh, you were right, my bad

last light as they say it is
find me a sun of my own
the heat of it makes me moan
strangelove seeds are being sown

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

some song..

It had been long time since i've written a song..
so wrote this love song.. (not so good, but still... its good to start with something again)

Key of E ... and 1 4m b3 b7

E Am in verse 1 2 and 3
G C in chorus

Verse 1

So cold is the spring air,
So clear is sky
Why don’t you come with me
And lets go fly…………………

Verse 2 ----------- to be written later


I just want to be with you
In this cold cold night
Please come, come back to me
I’ll hold you tight

Verse 1 again…

So cold is the spring air,
So clear is sky
Why don’t you come with me
And lets go fly…………………

some song..

It had been long time since i've written a song..
so wrote this love song.. (not so good, but still... its good to start with something again)

Verse 1.

E Am

So cold is the spring air,

E Am

So clear is sky

E Am

Why don’t you come with me

E Am.

And lets go fly…………………

Verse 2 ----------- to be written later



I just want to be with you


In this cold cold night


Please come, come back to me


I’ll hold you tight

Verse 1 again…

E Am

So cold is the spring air,

E Am

So clear is sky

E Am

Why don’t you come with me

E Am.

And lets go fly…………………

Friday, June 22, 2007


it splits and forms back again
the same, the same like before
just a little bit of warmth
and look, its ain't cinch no sore

A backyard old garage
small stinky bowels of squirrels
a small little old gramophone
oh, i want to listen records

listen , until it makes sense
so, i don't pretend to be you
someone else, like some rock star
or pretend to be shit


It was raining since last seven days in this small town amidst the lovely mountains. Rain which never seemed to stop. "How can it rain so much" said sid, who was one of those forty people who were stranded as the roads were flooded. "Its all we humans, we cut trees kill animals, it is all coming back to us, god has a way to make everyone pay for his penance" commented the driver of the bus. The weather was gloomy inside, as it was closing on to be thirteen hours since the bus got stuck. Some people were playing cards, some were snoozing while some were praying for the rain to stop.

It so happens always that a small community is formed whenever a group of people travel together. It becomes a small society participating in a interesting social experiment. It becomes a small story telling affair, as everyone longs to tell theirs and listen to others. Some people are oblivious to it, while some people are so engrossed in it. It seems like another parallel life for them, where they can be whatever they want to be and whatever they couldn't. How much of it is truth? No one cares and it doesn't matter much.

... contd ahead

Monday, June 4, 2007

Some Exam...

Think of someone not working for some exam even when that someone knows that the exam is very important for him.

I've been like this since past few days, what could be the limits to slackness... not working at all.. or whenever one's working, the output is a just like a piece of constipated shit ideas.

When does one stop growing, when does one think that one can't go on further... people say that forget about the past and start a new beginning but then what do i start with.

What makes one feels so underestimated. How to describe the feeling of being bogged down by the sheer idea of not working.

why why why..........

Monday, May 28, 2007

incoherent verses of love and trust ... and music

Probably it means the same to you,
Probably it doesn’t
But who cares…
Who the hell cares....

I would rather not write
than listen
nothing else makes more sense
nothing else is so true

nothing’s more sensible
than those incoherent words
those sublime verses
the state of love and trust

I like the quakes of pinkpop
I like the moshing wacken
the creative new Orleans
the great Indian rock

tribute to the true music
is what I pay everyday,
is the food I eat
is my music I listen

its more I in here as you may think
but its all abt you
don’t do if u ain’t true
like u fuckin care