Ambitransitive Ravings…

Hear ye, hear ye, O’ self proclaimed “real people”

Hear ye, Hear all, the wretched screech of thy self righteous bugle

Drumming chests, stomping feet, 

Imploring subconsciously, with a facade of command, 

Prevaricating, credulous to percieved truth, 

With abhorrence for reality, 

Cadaverous yet alive, 

Hear ye, hear ye, O twisted “real people”, 

Have you seen what you’ve become, for your twisted scruples?

This desire is ravenous, encompassing, consuming…

the desire to achive a catharsis, failing, falling..

For the thirst gnawing inside, 

Penultimate quest of superiority, 

Destination……obliteration?

Maybe there’s something intellectual about it after all…

I’m wondering now, really wondering, what’s the point in all this? I mean who cares about what anyone does anyway. But then, you do come across those who consider themselves“Nietzsches” in their self created idiosyncratic universe. Is this artificial epiphany a boost or a sycophant parasitism? Is it strong enough to create this gaping hole of insecurity and inept certitude of superficiality insofar? Maybe there’s something intellectual about it, maybe it makes sense to those few aficionados of that reticent unfathomable abysm that life has become for them, who aim to achieve a remarkable distinction in their existence, which in itself is a contesseration of homogeneous oddities, while they unwittingly head towards being a part of the abnormal regularity of life. Indelible and sacrosanct is what such thinking seems to these individuals. Strange is the sanctimonious inviolability of such self proclaimed incarnations of “twisted reality”. Well, I still don’t give a fuck. Does occasionally make me wonder though…..

God save our country…

So there I was, sitting on the window seat of the second class compartment in the train that goes from Thane to Vashi. Its a nice windy day and I was considering myself lucky that I had arrived at the platform 10 minutes before the train arrived because I could get in the train before the other passengers and beat them to the window seat. Now, those who’ve travelled in the Mumbai local trains know very well the importance a window seat holds on a hot summer day. So this was one of those incredibly annoying hot summer days and I happened to be the luckiest person in a smelly congested second class train compartment, or so I thought. Now, Just when I’m thinking how pleasant my journey to Vashi is going to become, this gentleman sitting right next to me, leans over, reaches out for the window and spits flaming red betel juice out of the window and on to the platform. Apparently he didn’t really care much about aiming as the residues of the by product of his daily habit splattered in a small patch over the grilled window and also on my forearm . Now it so happens that I recognised that this person hails from the state of Bihar. And I decided to confront this guy speaking to him in Simple Hindi. So following is the conversation between Anand Bhaskar And Mr. Bihar:
AB: Bhaisaab, ye aap kya kar rahe hain?

Mr.B: Paan thook rahe hain bhaiya, aur kaa!
AB:(Slaps forehead in sheer anger) Aap andhe hai yaan aapko motiya bind ho gaya hai. Dikh nahi raha aap ne train ki khidki aur platform dono ko ganda kiya hai.
Mr.B: Arre bhai, kyun itna bada issooo bana rahe ho, Ab ho gaya.
AB: (I’m wondering “what the fuck is ho gaya?”) Kya ho gaya? Aap anpadh hai kya?
Mr.B: (Getting flustered) Bas theek hai, ho gaya.
AB: (raging with anger) Abe chutiye, kya ho gaya? Saale apne ghar me thook na jaake, public property kyun gandi kar raha hai?
Mr.B: Ae, ho gaya na!
AB:(These are the only words this retard is capable of speaking, so I keep quiet, though I’m flaring up again all ready to slap him)
Uncle next to Mr.B: Arre beta jaane do, jaane do.
So I went to Vashi thinking how would our country improve with such imbeciles roaming about.
NEXT WEEKEND:
I’m taking my customary train to Vashi, this time I decided to stand near the door as the train was nearly empty. An old gentleman (Maharashtrian since he was speaking in flawless Marathi on the phone) comes stands next to me. Thats when I notice the familiar grinding of teeth and then he does the same thing which Mr. B did. He spat right on the platform leaving a bright red blotch. I’m standing there staring in disbelief and I can’t believe my own luck. This can’t be happening again. Anyway, I decide, despite the failure of my last attempt to make a moron see some sense, to talk to Mr. Maharashtra. So here’s the conversation between him and me.
AB: Sir aap ye kya kar rahe hain?
Mr.M: Kya kar rahe hain matlab?
AB: Platform pe kyun thooka?
Mr.M: To kya train ke andar thookoon?
AB: Arre, kya aap apne ghar me thookenge? Aap jaante nahi ki aap public property ko kharaab kar rahe hain? Kya aapko maloom hai aap arrest ho sakte hain?
Mr.M: (Snickering) Theek hai phir, le chalo mujhe. Bulao police ko ha ha ha.
AB: Bhosadike, hans mat.
Mr M: (Shocked outof his balls, not believing what he just heard, and for some reason keeps quiet)
Mr.M alights at Ghansoli, and then turns to me:
Mr.M: Hum gaon waale hain, humein sheher ki baatein mat samjhaao!
AB: (Furious, disgusted and highly disappointed) Bhosadike, jaa gaaon me jaake ma chuda aur usi ko ganda kar!

Mr. M: Probably thinking about how relentless educated people can be.

The train is leaving the platform now, and Mr.M hurls a string of inaudible abuses at me. His volume and courage increasing proportionately with the speed of the train.

Now, if you’ve had the patience to read till now, I would like to tell you why I went through the trouble of writing about the above incidents. Ever since I’ve come to Mumbai, I’ve heard Maharashtrians and Non-Maharashtrians, people please don’t think that this is a tirade against Maharshtrians, argue about how Non-Maharashtrians have polluted Mumbai and how they don’t keep the city clean. Now, in the above two incidents, there was a Maharashtrian and a Non-Maharashtrian both doing the same thing which Non-Maharashtrians are condemned for. Public spitting and urinating are two things that have long since plagued all the efforts to keep any city clean. It doesn’t depend on where people come from, it depends on the mindset. We tend to compare people regionally and pass the buck for a problem which is faced universally by all of us. All I want to say is that its high time we stop this discrimination based on caste, creed, religion and region and realise the fine line between literacy and education. That’s why we all know that lady justice is blindfolded for a good reason!

Thick Skulls…

Sometimes, you just don’t get it. Sitting and wondering why some people act like their skulls are made of some extra-hard-logic-repelling material. Is it their inherent ignominy or is it simply the pure sense of useless superiority that makes them behave in a way that is beyond the comprehension of a sane mind? These people fuck it all up for themselves and the people who surround them. Communicating with them is like banging your head against an unbreakable and immovable wall. For example, certain individuals have started a “save Mumbai” campaign, where they themselves are responsible to make it look like a pathetic puddle of mud. A puddle where anyone is bound to get soiled whether its a native or an outsider. What gives this people the right to violate someone’s rights and respect is beyond my understanding. Has the government of our country become so weak that they can’t handle a bunch of hooligans who do nothing constructive in the their entire lifespan and are ready to demolish buildings and vandalise social and educational instituions. A lot of questions crop up when I think about these things. Has respect for privacy of others stopped existing? Should a select group of provincial nincompoops given the liberty to prostitute the rights and freedom of so many others? Aren’t these people the part of the generation for whose freedom our ancestors fought the British, and so many others who tried to take over our country by force? We talk of people being racist in other countries, but what are we doing on our own land? Isn’t provincialism another perverted form of racism? We all have questions, but its the quest for answers that gives us the power and motivation to face the questions. If the government takes some stern measures, there can still be hope for people who want to live peacefully, unless that quest is already long forgotten.

Drugged…

“I don’t like the drugs but the drugs like me…….” once sang Marilyn Manson, we might not know how far this holds true in his case, but in the case of a million others its exactly the opposite. Drugs don’t like us, because every snort of coke or every jab of a heroin injection paves the way to degeneration. Most of us don’t even realize when and where an artificially induced euphoria becomes as important as oxygen itself, sometimes more.

Drugs kill people not only biologically but also mentally and financially. Many families get ruined because one person is addicted. Nowadays rehabs have come up to “cure” these people. These institutions do a great deal of good for such people, its just that these institutes are not reputed and anyone who thinks of getting into a rehab is discouraged by the social stigma associated with it. The awareness of these institutions and ill effects of drugs should be propagated properly and it is high time that this is brought into effect.

I was once told “where there is a will, there is a way”, but it’s the will that these drugs attack. Even the strongest of will dissipates in the pursuit of these inane dreams. Dreams are good when experienced naturally, but substance induced dreams make us absolutely inexorable in purpose or will and we lose all reason to justify that this momentary emancipation is only going to lead us to an incapacitating abyss called death. The journey might be scenic, but we might never reach the destination we seek…….

Indian Rock

Maybe its that certain swagger when he walks, with loose fitting jeans/cargos that redefine “low waist”, a hint of a tattoo, an ear, an eyebrow or the chin pierced, with the trademark goatee and accessories to compliment all these features. He would rather worship Satan than listen to Himesh or groove to the likes of Anu Malik. There, I might just have described your regular, next door underground rock fan. Most of them usually wear their favorite bands across their chest or over their shoulders. This person is a product of a movement started almost three decades ago by pioneers of a genre that has now come to be known as “Indian rock”. A movement started by the likes of great musicians like Colorblind, Indus Creed (Formerly known as Rock Machine and now metamorphosed into Alms for Shanti), Parikrama (read defunct band that still covers AC/DC and Pink Floyd and complains why original music isn’t being appreciated), etc. and carried it on to convert it into a gargantuan wave of frenzy by the likes of bands like Pentagram, Orange Street, Acquired Funk Syndrome, Friday the thirteenth etc.

An average underground rock concert in a pub in Mumbai, Delhi or Bangalore would comprise of say a 150 strong crowd, all moving to the groove created by a funky bass-line or to a general alternative sound, moshing with each other to the fury of nu-metal, or just insanely head-banging to the sharp and heavy metal riffs with blatant disregard for their neck joints, whatever the case maybe, it’s the unison, the faith, the quality of audience (both critics and non-critics involved) and a hope against hope that plays a major role in creating the motivation for these 150 people here.

When Indus Creed came out with three “all original“ albums Rock ‘N ‘ Roll Renegade (CBS) (1988), The Second Coming (Magnasound) (1990), Indus Creed (BMG-Crescendo) (1995), it broke the concept of being a cover band, which most of the upcoming bands in India were concentrating on at that time. Most Indian bands kept playing cover influenced sets with less original compositions to offer to the Indian audience till as late as 2001. The appearance of Indus Creed’s video on MTV of the song “Trapped” only strengthened the potential of Indian Rock Underground to surface as a mainstream industry. The band Colorblind also came up with an all original album in the year 1997-98 which motivated many youngsters to come out with their instruments and start composing. In early 90s a certain individual called Farhad Wadia started what is now known as Independence Rock, in 1996 Rock Street Journal, one of the most read rock based magazines in India, started an all India rock band competition called the Great Indian Rock. Almost 300 bands send in their recordings to both Independence Rock and Great Indian Rock each, only for that once chance to play in front of a ten-thousand strong crowd, the screaming fans, news reporters, media channels, the crowd singing their own songs and mouthing the words while they sing to them, a feeling that can best be described as a musical orgasm, a chance for which they practice every day of the year after school or college or work. Off late there has been another endeavor by DNA Networks in this direction called the Campus Rock Idols, which gives a chance to all college bands to compete each other on a country wide level. The winner gets to share stage with an international band. A few examples are Delhi based “Prestorika” opening for The Rasmus, “The Superfuzz” opening for Bryan Adams.

 

Some examples of Indian Bands getting international exposure would be “Pentagram” and “Orange Street” becoming regulars at electronica festivals like Glastonbury, and “Parikrama” sharing stage with metal gods Iron Maiden, things are surely looking up for the Indian Rock circuit. There are 20 albums released by Indian Rock Groups every year on an average. Mumbai based band “Zero” sold 10000 copies of their first album “Hook” and their single “PSP 12” is already a huge hit amongst Indian fans.

 

With more bands coming up with all original albums (Anu Malik should take a cue here) and more and more shows and competitions happening all over the country which help them rub shoulders with international artistes, the Indian Rock scene is definitely looking up, and it won’t be a surprise when we might just give Himesh a run for his money, its just like what John Keats once said “If it is winter now, can spring be far behind?”