Falling From Grace: A Dutch Eulogy

When fans say they "hate" a footballer, it's usually a facade concealing the florid, full-blown jealousy that strikes them every time they see him celebrating a victory or kissing his newly adopted crest. That’s how I felt when the infamous little boy…devil…whatever inside Robin Van Persie said the club wasn’t moving in the direction he wanted. It sucked seeing him score against us. It hurt seeing him lift a trophy he could never get his hands on at the Emirates. But what hurt more than this confessed jealousy was the betrayal that triggered it all. Yes, I use the word ‘betrayal’ to describe the actions of a player that this club and its loyal fan base stood behind through his darkest of days. A hot-headed injury prone Dutchman from Feyenoord once accused of rape; a man even his new followers labelled a rapist. The club and more importantly the manager firmly took his side. The fans followed.

Alas, 1.5/8 good seasons later he decides the club isn’t good enough for him. And he got what he wanted… for a while at least. What followed his trophy winning season under the reigns of Sir Alex Ferguson was a series of unfortunate events that would make even Lemony Snickett shudder. An injury plagued second season left United finishing in 7^th place under their new manager, David Moyes. Louis Van Gaal took over soon after and for a second RVP saw a glimmer of hope at resurrecting what was once a stellar career. Alas, the same man who made him the Dutch captain and hi-fived him after he scored demoted him to the bench at United. Indeed, so miserable was his next 2 years at United that he decided to leave England altogether. Things only got worse however. At his new home in Turkey, no one even recognizes him. Not only has he lost his Dutch captaincy but has also been reduced to being a bench warmer at his new club, Fenerbahce.

As I write this Van Persie is slowly but surely descending into oblivion. He has lost the respect of all his followers at England. Wenger, his former mentor whom he once called a father refuses to even recognize him. And his new supporters despise his apparent lethargic attitude on the field. RVP is currently training at the Dutch camp attempting a last gasp effort at qualifying for next year’s Euros at France. Unfortunately even a win against Czech Republic might not be enough to qualify if Turkey manage to get a single point against Iceland. It’s almost as if the fate of his nation is analogous to his own.

At the age of 32 and at the twilight of his career it is hard to tell whether there is any chance of a revival for Robin. He will probably never play in a major tournament again if Holland don’t qualify. He will be 35 years old in 2018 when the world cup at Russia comes around and a career riddled with injuries doesn’t sound very promising for the veteran striker. Sigh… if only he had never… ahh forget it.

They say the opposite of love is hate but it isn’t. It’s indifference.

And unfortunately, Robin; that’s how most Arsenal fans feel about you now. We have new heroes to worship, new silverware to polish and if we want to look back and feel nostalgic about the yesteryears we need only step outside the Emirates and gaze at the statues of Henry, Dennis, Adams and Herbert Chapman. Infact, one of them, Tony Adams once said: “Play for the name in the front of the shirt and they’ll remember the name at the back”. For 1.5 seasons you gave us that. A teaser of what you could do; a sample of the kind of havoc you could wreak on the strongest of defences. For those 1.5 seasons you made us feel almost (2003/4ish) invincible. But you only played for the little boy inside you, didn’t you Robin? And look where that got you. This is what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you.

You were always a great player. At Arsenal you could’ve become a legend. Fans worshipped you. Today, at this stage in your career there is nothing you can do that can bring you that status. You ruined everything, Robin. And you know what the worst part is? It’s that nobody seems to care anymore. Arsenal have moved on. United never really cared much anyway. They have Anthony Martial now; I hear he’s the next Thierry Henry. Hmm… I wonder, have you ever heard of a hot prospect being called the next Robin Van Persie? I don’t think so. You could’ve had it all, Robin. At Arsenal you were the king. I admit, you’re the striker we still haven’t replaced on the field. But we’ve definitely replaced you in spirit. Nobody cares anymore, Robin.

I sincerely hope and pray by some stroke of fortune you and your country do manage to qualify for next summer’s tournament in France. I think you deserve that much. One final shot at greatness. But know this… that this sentiment comes not from love but sympathy. I pity you Robin. I feel sorry for you. And that for me is the worst kind of feeling one can ever have.

R.I.P.

Aam Aadmi Football Club

From the establishment of the English Premier league in 1992 right up to the infant years of the 21^st century, there had been only 2 major clubs gunning for the league title – Arsenal and Manchester United. The fan base in India was largely divided between these 2 clubs with a relatively smaller lot supporting Liverpool. In 2004, English Football witnessed the rise of another title contender, Chelsea. Pretty soon, fans began flocking towards this new outfit that promised to change the way football clubs were run forever (and they did).

This setting can be likened to the situation prevailing in Indian politics today. We have had the supporters of BJP and UPA locking horns for decades with a minority choosing to stand by the CPI. Today, we have another player in the game – Aam Aadmi Party.

Gregory David Roberts in his acclaimed novel, Shantaram writes: “This is India, man. This is the land of the heart! This is where the heart is king, man! That's why you're free.” We’re a nation of free people. To say India is the largest democracy on the face of the earth is an understatement. We’re also the largest liberal democracy. When I lived in Singapore, my father had to sign an affidavit explicitly declaring that he would not undertake any protest against the government. In India, every citizen has the right to hold a demonstration under Article 19(1)(b) of the Indian constitution. But the problem is that we Indians are a sentimental lot. We let emotion fuel passion; passion fuel opinion and opinion fuel prejudice. We take our opinions too far and end up treating political parties like football clubs.

In 2005, An Arsenal player named Robin Van Persie was accused of rape. At that time Arsenal was riding a wave of euphoria after having broken the record for the longest unbeaten streak in English football history. Fans of United and Chelsea jumped at the chance to have one over the Arsenal fans by condemning the club for sheltering a rapist. Arsenal fans of course vehemently denied the allegations claiming the player was being framed. In 2012, once Van Persie infamously switched sides over to United, a distinct change in sentiment washed over fans of both parties. Arsenal fans now labelled him a rapist and all sorts of other pejorative names while those of United rushed to his defence. As is the case with most things, the truth lay covered beneath shades of grey, but if you’re a football fan, you’ll know it is a cardinal sin to be neutral. “Judah Ben-Hur, you’re either with me or against me.”

It is unfortunate that a lot of us behave in the same unruly, zealot and ultraist manner while giving our two cents on Indian politics. Fans of Congress FC play the Gujrat riots card against Modi every time they’re stumped and BJP does the same with the massacre of 1984. Seldom do you see both sides conceding that both parties were at fault. Today we have the AAP in Delhi vowing to rid the nation of corruption which, quite rightly so is singlehandedly the biggest obstacle to progression. It was this very idea that drew hordes of supporters to fight for their cause and eventually had them elected to power. Once in office, the AAP wasted no time in fulfilling the promises it made to the people starting with water and electricity bill subsidies. This was immediately met with staunch criticism from the opposition parties who claimed it was a populist stunt. The AAP didn’t flinch and simply went about its business. Ironically, Rahul Gandhi pulled a similar stunt when he pushed for an LPG cylinder hike aimed it “reaching out to 70 crore under privileged people”.

Controversy refused to elude the AAP and they found themselves in a mix once again with law minister Somnath Bharti decided to take matters into his own hands by conducting vigilante raids on a Ugandan residence which he suspected was party to sex and drug racketeering. The Barkha Dutts and Arnab Goswamis of the country jumped at the chance to boost their TRPs; stoking the fire by nit picking at words. Social networking sites erupted into streams of debate and rhetoric; you had the lynch mob screaming “F**K you [insert party name here] and witty SMS jokes going viral on one hand and the more articulate lot on the other keeping it parliamentary with 500-word facebook comments. Again, the truth lay in shades of grey. Yes Somnath Bharti was wrong in taking the law into his own hands. Yes the Delhi police are incompetent and have a reputation for notoriety. Yes drug trafficking and sex racketeering is a problem in the area. Yes the Africans living in the area are victims of racism. The problem here was that whichever side of the argument one chose to adopt was merely a figment of their affiliated political standpoint and not a personal opinion. In simpler words, “If I switch sides now, I will appear weak”.

What followed has been well documented by the media. Kejriwal took to the streets with another one of his (in)famous dharnas demanding the suspension of 4 police officers along with an appeal for the release of the Delhi police from Federal control. All he got was 2 police officers going on paid leave. Surely even the great Kejriwal learnt that day that not every problem can be solved be holding the central government at ransom.

However, the AAP really managed to reach a whole new level of controversy when Kejriwal came out and said he was not against the abolishment of the Khap Panchayats. Now there are two ways of interpreting his statement. First, that he simply said it isn’t a crime for a group of people to assemble in an area and that action will be taken when a crime is committed. Second, that he is willing to look the other way while the Khap Panchayats continue to pass Taliban-esque decrees ranging from incest to rape to cold blooded murder. Again, you have a case of Opposition FC vs Aam Aadmi FC. It’s a never ending cycle.

Stop.

Political parties are not football clubs and we are not fans. Football fans don’t have the power to evoke change in their club’s bureaucracy. The people of a democracy do. Pledge allegiance to the nation, not to parties and not even to your opinions. We all unanimously agree that corruption is the root of all evil; so when we taint our opinions to follow the lines that the political parties dictate, isn’t that a corruption of democratic values?

As for me, I do not wish to vote for the AAP. Personally speaking, I don’t believe they are ready to come into power at the centre. I do hold the view that Arvind Kejriwal means well for the people and the nation at large but nobility doesn’t necessarily lead to good governance. But hey, that’s just me being a diligent participant of democratic process as are all of us.

That said, I will admit that the AAP is our best shot at clean politics and presents us with chance to start afresh instead of getting sucked back into the dreary oscillation of power we’re so accustomed to. But as a party, they’re the new kid on the block and are yet to fully understand how the game is played. For that, they could do without the advice of opposition parties with vested interests. For that, they need us to steer them onto the right track and shake them when they fall asleep on the wheel. But if we are to succeed, we need to set aside our petty differences and overcome the egotist inherent in us. Let us acknowledge the triviality of losing a facebook debate and appreciate the rewards of clean governance. Let us stop being football fans and start becoming citizens.

Shut up! This is my opinion

3 questions arise after witnessing the events that transpired these last few weeks: How dare the government neglect the needs of the citizens? How dare the public protest in such a disorderly and reckless manner? And how dare the media highlight this case alone and neglect the others.

Hello everyone. I’m Abhishek, your average middle class Indian. I live in a big house and have a 4mbs internet connection which gives me access to face book. I've ‘liked’ plenty of posts and photos which echoed my sentiments towards the Delhi Rape incident and even took the pain and effort to incessantly type out 500 word comments airing my lucid views on what needs to be done to turn this country into Utopia. I refused to go out into the streets to protest because my thought process was and still is a tad different from the ones out there holding banners... well at least most of them. My argument was/is this: All these people gathered at Jantar Mantar... what on earth do they expect? Instantaneous gratification? I've been watching these interviews with random protesters and they all had an air of misplaced patriotism about them.

“We want the government to create a strong law against rape” one said. I’m sorry (not sarcasm) but that simply cannot happen at the push of a button. “We want death penalty for rape” said another. What will this serve to achieve? Instead, as Ram Jethmalani succinctly put it, it would only give the rapists motive to murder the victim once she/he has been assaulted. So yes, I still stand by what I said earlier. I will not protest because I personally don’t believe that the slogans are completely justified. But hey, *insert ‘entitled to my opinion’ rhetoric here*

Anyway, I digress.

Let us look at the other team of players in this battlefield - Our honourable politicians. You guys do have your flaws. Be it Mamata Bannerjee (woman mind you) insinuating that rape is caused due to men and women interacting freely or Abhijit Mukherjee’s audacious remarks (I’m embarrassed to even quote them). It doesn’t stop there. As much as I personally believe that the problem isn’t solved by striking fear into the hearts of potential rapists, you guys with your medieval principles and tainted paycheques have done close to nothing to make this country any better in the last decade or so. I’m not talking about just rape here. So yeah, stand up and be accountable.

Ahh... and the media... always playing the role of the mediator. Cunningly poking both the citizens and the government when they’re not looking and shouting, “They did it!!!” You guys are no saints either.

Phew... I’m glad I got all that cynicism out of my system. Now let’s go over what just happened. The people are at fault for being “hypocrites” and mindlessly protesting for a slogan they don’t know the meaning of. The government is at fault for being pathetically inefficient. And ofcourse, the media is at fault for relaying distorted information and then shouting, “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger”.

So where does that leave us? Seems like all roads lead to the same destination – Nowhere. Well that’s true to a certain extent and unfortunately inevitable. Will we get the justice we fight for? The government will definitely turn but what will it be – a new leaf or the other cheek? These are questions that only time has the answers to. Ok, so here’s where I stop stating the obvious and come to the real point.

I’ve been in Delhi for 4 years now and I’ve already witnessed 3 large scale protests at the very grounds which have been barricaded by the police today. The people are obviously agitated. I’ve also witnessed more and more politicians (mostly of the younger generation) stepping out of their comfort zones and admitting that the system needs to undergo radical changes. What most of us aren’t fully aware (or should I say conscious) of is that beneath the crumbling walls of a failing bureaucracy, beneath the daily mundane pettiness of the common man, beneath all the insignificant and nugatory armchair arguments, a storm is brewing. Some might say, the people are finally waking up. Some even say the constitution is changing. But all in all, what IS no doubt happening is that this country is moving forward. The government cannot survive without its people and the people cannot survive without governance. As for the media... hey, you need both of us. We all have our flaws as I elucidated at the start and individually there is very little we can do to fix them... but when we live together(I did not say work) we can overcome them. How? Let’s use Damini’s struggle for justice as an example. The flaws of our government have made us question the reasons behind the series of brutal attacks on women. It has served to amplify the voice of the feminists. It has even led some of to question our own culture and tradition, the same patriarchal society we’ve been raised in. In a population of 1.2 billion people, I think it’s safe to say atleast one orthodox conservative husband will go back home and apologise to his wife who he has been mercilessly abusing for the last few years. He will also probably sit down with his son and tell him that what he did was wrong and that women are not meant to be treated as objects.

Damini did not die in vain. She did what no Indian could ever do - Unite this nation. I’ve been a disbeliever of humanity for most of my life because my horizon ended with the scrutiny of mankind’s many flaws. What I did not realise is that this is precisely where the solution lies.

I’m writing this not out of any bold cry for justice or expression of sentiment but for the people (once like me) who are starting to lose hope on change. Most of curse ourselves for being prisoners of birth I write this to reassure you that all hope is not lost. Have faith in the people... but more importantly, have faith in yourself.

I Want to Kill Myself

“I feel like killing myself”.

Oh come on now. Don’t look at me like that. We’ve all said this to ourselves at some point of time in our lives. You know ... those dreary and obscure moments when things seem to be going horribly wrong. It is something we often... oops... seldom... tell ourselves in moments of isolation. A hint of retrospection that takes us a few ticks of the clock back in time when we analyse and over analyse and over analyse and over analyse our apparent mistakes and finally conclude that we’re doomed to be failures... that nothing can ever go right for us... that the only solution is to end it all and gently sink into oblivion. An “escape”, as some might choose to call it is something we’ve all thought of, be it just for a fraction of a second or years at end.

Sometimes it’s just our curiosity that makes us want to kill ourselves. What? Aren’t you curious about what happens after death? I know I am. And what better way to find out then kill ourselves? I mean... nobody is going to kill you just because you asked them to? Why should they? Our governments have laws forbidding these kinds of things. And if they were to get caught, they could be put away in those dark and dingy cells for years while you’re bouncing up and down in the clouds of heaven or sipping margaritas and basking under the suns of hell. That just wouldn’t be fair now would it? Hence kill yourself... go ahead... find out... and leave a comment describing how it feels on my blog. J

 So why don’t we do it?

Before I answer that, one first needs to understand why people DID commit suicide in the first place. Note how I used “did” instead of “do”. My grammar Nazi mother will be so proud!

Jokes aside, my quest took me far away from my humble dwelling in Noida. I had to traverse the seven seas, scale the highest speaks and burrow through the most desolate rain forests of South America. I had breakfast with the Dalai Lama, lunch with the renowned German scholar and anthropologist, Dr. Adolf Schweinsteiger and supper with the infamous Wakataki tribe witch doctor.

I returned home in an auto rickshaw, an enlightened soul. I finally had my answer - they all made a mistake.

Believe me when I say this, if every individual who had committed suicide could rewind back 5 minutes before they actually did, there is a huge possibility they would change their minds. No matter how much of time and planning you invest, you’re never fully certain you want to go ahead with it until those final few seconds. How am I so sure of myself? Simple... try talking to people who have actually tried committing suicide and yet failed due to unforeseen circumstances – The fall wasn’t hard enough, the medication wasn’t strong enough, the knife wasn’t sharp enough and so on and so forth. None of them would make a second attempt.

For what it’s worth, read this article: http://ladyarse.co.uk/2012/09/football-isnt-life-or-death/

This might sound clichéd but it’s true in every sense. If you(yeah you, Mr/Ms. suicide attempter) remained in purgatory long enough to see the amount of sorrow your death would cause, you would feel like killing yourself (if that made sense). Because no matter how resentful, depressed, bitter, despondent, remorseful you might feel; the loss of your life would be infinitely more tragic to the people who care about you. Don’t even think about telling me no one does, because you are too blind and naive to accept what is, because you take for granted the ones that do.

Ok so I lied... sigh. I didn’t actually meet with the witch doctor of the Wakataki tribe in the Amazon rainforest. I used Google. It’s amazing what you can find out from the internet these days. They have everything. Though on the other hand, if Indiana Jones had Google, we would never have had “Raiders of the Lost Ark” now would we?

Anyway, coming to part 2 – Why DON’T people commit suicide? Before I get into that, here’s an interesting statistic for you: 100% of all living human beings who’ve considered committing suicide are still alive. Hee hee hee.

While rummaging through the internet I became acquainted with a peculiar term: Suicide Survivor. Your first guess is as good as mine... but we’re both wrong. The term “Suicide Survivor” does not refer to someone who has attempted suicide and failed but the loved ones the victim left behind. If you happen to be a suicide survivor, you might find my satirical humour unamusing or rather quite slanderous. I apologise if I have hurt your sentiments in anyway, but I must ask you this: Is your anger aimed at the things I have said or at the person you’ve lost? Do you forgive him/her for taking his/her life away from you?

If you’ve read my previous posts, you’ll know I like blending in bits of humour with my work to mitigate the solemness of the situation. No one enjoys having to endure pain and suffering. Thomas Jefferson defined it as “the right to the pursuit of happiness”. Because that’s what life is all about - A world devoid of pain and suffering. Isn’t that what we’re all striving towards?

Somewhere along those lines lies the answer to my second question. And now I speak to the lot of you undergoing so called emotional turmoil. If it helps, I used to be one of them.

When you stand on top of the roof with your arms outstretched mimicking the Christ Redeemer, what stops you from taking the ultimate plunge? Do you suddenly see the bright light at the end of the tunnel? Does a bolt from the blue epiphanise your existence? Does an inner voice cleanse your soul and add deeper meaning to your life? Bullshit! You’re all scared aren’t you? I don’t blame you. Who wouldn’t be? Hell knows what awaits you in the afterlife. What guarantee is it that things down there won’t be worse than things up here?

Fact is, no matter how many times you tell yourself that things can’t possibly get worse, that you’ve had enough and simply can’t take it anymore, there is a tiny voice inside you that says, “fuck this shit, let’s see how things go today. I’ll jump tomorrow. I don’t know which son of Einstein came up with the quote but it couldn’t be more true in this regard – Tomorrow never comes.

You can always find a reason to live. For something as vast as changing the world or something as minuscule as watching the next episode of “How I Met Your Mother” ... come on!!! Don’t you at least want to live long enough to find out who the mother is?

The problem is that sometimes, we’re too exhausted to search for reasons. We brandish our hardships (not to the world mind you, but to ourselves. This is an internal conflict) to such an extent that we forget to even bother searching for reasons to smile. Because at that point of time, when we’re so caught up in trying to be depressed, we forget the simpler things in life. We forget that rainbows and sunshines exist for a reason. We forget the liberating feeling of dancing in the rain. We forget the alluring scent of roses. We even forget how fucking awesome it feels to have sex!!! Lets face it, life is not worth giving up when you can still have sex.

So if everyone goes through the same perpetual suicide cycle – Depression, Cliff hanger, Epiphany, Rejuvenation - Why bother stating the obvious? Well frankly, I’m just trying to save you all some time. Don’t waste your days devising devious ways of ending your miserable existence when you know you won’t do it. Tomorrow might never come, but yesterday most certainly won’t. You’ll never get back the days you lose. You will die someday. We all will. There is no need to speed up that process. Let mother nature do her thing. She’s good at what she does.

Sometimes we feel like giving up because our goals seem unattainable. We grow tired and impatient and immediately search for the easy way out. Well if you find one, good for you, but mind you... suicide is not the answer. You will regret it – whether you survive or live in purgatory – you will most certainly regret it.

You will get what you want if you truly want it... or you will die trying. But you will never die in fear of never achieving it. Because the fear of death conquers all other fears. Every breathing cell in our body wants to live. We were born to live, to let live and live some more. The odds are stacked against you.

Toh please bhai, Mother Nature se panga mat lena.

(So please, bro. Don’t pick a fight with mother nature.)

I'm Cool Because I Hate Linkin Park

So I’ve just returned home from the theatres after watching a splendid little musical called, “Rock of Ages”. As the name suggests, it is a tribute to the glittery life of the 80s: A psychedelic concoction of sex, drugs and rock n’ roll. I thoroughly enjoyed myself as we dwindled through the age of blonde hair and black leather tied up with six strings... if you know what I mean.

During the interval, my dad and I had a pretty intense debate on the evolution of music. The typical never ending “Then and Now“argument where he emphasises on the fact that music just isn’t what it used to be, with all the synthetic sounds and electronic voodoo. Me being the fervid patriot that I am towards my generation countered that with the usual “times change, get with it. We don’t like your music either” rhetoric.

It got me thinking though. What has music become? What have we made it? What is it turning into? Human beings are blessed with the ability to process different wavelengths of sound and converge them into a single modulated frequency configured by our brain in order to stimulate the pleasure inducing neurons, thereby raising the hair on the back of our necks and getting us high as fuck!

That’s all that music is - A drug. It comes in many shapes, sizes and sounds... each one flowing through our bloodstream at its own pace and intensity. Like all things, it has changed over time. Different times, different people and different tastes. That’s the way it works, isn’t it? So how does one decide which one is better? Simple answer, really. You don’t.

When we compare footballers, how do we decide if Pele was better than Maradona? When dealing with fashion, how can we say the boot cut is superior to the low waist? It’s the same story with every sphere of our lives. So why make an exception when it comes to music? I’ve given it some thought and......


The problem with society when it comes to music is that it has now become a symbol of status and lifestyle. The music we listen to is supposed to define the kind of people we are in real life. I’m cultured if I listen to Jazz. I’m a rebel if I listen to heavy metal. I’m a thug if I listen to hip hop. I’m a hippie if I listen to psy-trance.

Personally speaking, I listen to all of the genres I listed above. And no, not just in a casual iPod shuffle play list kind of way. I’m vehemently passionate about my music. So what does that make me? Quantum Mechanics personified? (Engineering pun intended. You’re forgiven if you don’t get it.)

Another way by which music has been corrupted is evident in our desire to stand out in a crowd. The music we listen to differentiates us from one another. Hence, the lesser the number of people listening to my music, the more unique I am. I still remember, this friend of mine asking me what metal bands I enjoy listening to. Without giving it much thought, I answered, “Lamb of God and Metallica”. He let out a smug laugh and very patronisingly said, “Dude you have to listen to more metal than that”. Still maintaining my cool, I asked him, “So what bands do you listen to?” His reply: “Oh you know... I’m a huge Meshuggah fan”. I smiled and said, “I saw them play live a couple of months ago”. 

It is precisely this attitude that makes most of us condescend musical acts like Linkin Park, Eminem, Lady Gaga and *insert Grammy award winner here*. These acts have become victims of their own successes. Their fame has now disparaged them in the eyes of the connoisseurs of their genres. This is most evident when it comes to hip hop. You’re not a true hip hop fan if you don’t listen to rappers like Immortal Technique and Rakim. “Oh you listen to Eminem and Nicki Minaj? Bitch please; you ain’t no hip hop fan!”

Listening to music today has transmogrified into a bizarre practice of competing to see who has the best and most polished taste. More than complimenting our favourite bands, we criticise the others. Heavy metal fans can’t stand the sound of verbose lyricism while the hip hoppers think it’s ridiculous to scream into a mic!
So where do we go from all this? Are we all fools to become slaves to commercial advertising? I’m gonna be very honest with you. The last 800 words or so have just been a mere waste of your time as well as mine. Why? Because at the end of the day, this debate/discussion is pathetically trivial with respect to the bigger picture that is... Music still gets us high as fuck!!

Regardless of all the petty quarrels and heated arguments, when we’re in the zone... when we go out there in those jam packed 30’000 capacity grounds, our bodies clinging to one another, blatantly oblivious to the reek of alcohol and sweat that lingers in the air... when we watch our favourite bands come on stage and play/strum/screech those notes.... in the words of Metallica, “Nothing Else Matters”. All our third world problems cease to exist as we sway from side to side to the rhythmic beats of our musical deities.... and nothing else matters.

Fact is, we all love our music. We just have a very juvenile and careless way of expressing it. Nothing can change the simple truth that every form of music will have its own army to fight for it. My dad’s generation was unstoppable. Mine is immovable. So what happens when our worlds collide? Nothing. Life goes on. So does the music.
I’m going to end by quoting my favourite lines from the documentary, “A head bangers’ journey (do watch it if you haven’t already”. The quote was made with respect to heavy metal, but I’m pretty sure it’s valid for every form of music.

“Ever since I was 12 years old, I've had to defend my love of heavy metal against those who say it's a less valid form of music. My answer now is that you either feel it, or you don't. If metal doesn't give you that overwhelming surge of power and make the hair stand up on the back of your neck, you might never get it. And you know what? That's ok; because judging by the 40,000 metal heads around me, we're doing just fine without you.”

Dear Father

This was a poem I had written a long time ago. Managed to dig it up somehow. A humble request though. Don't try reading too much into it. I love my father very much... more than life itself.
Right... now that the senti stuff is out of the way.. make way for... umm.. well more senti stuff. Happy reading!


Dear Father, forgive me for I am not your perfect son,
Forgive me for not being the person you hoped I’d become,
As the days pass by and you watch me grow
Into a person you might never claim to know,
You ask yourself... “Where? Where did I go wrong?”
The answer dear father lies in the words of this song

Ask not what you did, but what you did not do...
Ask none but yourself, the reason is you!
Dear father, forgive me... but your dreams are not mine
I’m not the person you were back in 1979
I tried to make you happy, but you turned the other cheek
Your dreams are not a reflection of the path I choose to seek
And I accept this, dear father. Believe me, I do.
I guess I can never grow up to become someone like you

I loved you, dear father, from the day you first held my hand
Till the winds of change blew away every grain of sand
And now time ceases to flow as we gently drift apart,
There is nothing that can mend this son’s broken heart
I bleed as I write this... dear father, I bleed!
I cry dear father... but you pay no heed,
I shout one last time, but my voice remains unheard
Dear father, forgive me for these are my last words..............

Journal entry #1 - Life is like toothpaste

This is probably the most random thing you’ll read today... if not in your whole life.

My life is like a tube of toothpaste. (sitcom audience laughter plays for about 5 seconds). Yes I find it pretty stupid too. Anyway, returning to the analogy...

My life is like a tube of toothpaste. The length of the tube symbolises time while the toothpaste represents life’s endless and inevitable problems.

Take a brand new tube of paste and turn it upside down. Shake it if you want to. Not a single drop of paste oozes out. Why? Because at that point, life is stable. I have my set of problems but they have not escalated to a point where I'm losing control. The sensible thing at this stage would be to tackle each problem as they come; if not... atleast make arrangements to tackle them in the due course of time. Ofcourse, like I said.. that's the "sensible" thing to do. I'm far far far from it though.

Here's how I function. I pretend these problems don't exist. Ofcourse, pretending doesn't make them go away. It is simply procrastination. Using the analogy, all I'm doing is pushing the paste a few inches up leaving the bottom end completely flat... i.e .. virtually devoid of any problems. At that point of time, I'm content with life. No problems.. no worries.. Hakuna Matata.

Then, the 4th dimension of life comes into play - time. As I push up the tube... I reach a stage when the paste can no longer remain inside. It has to come out. (erotic pun) I have to confront my problems..... and voila... catastrophe.

At this point, I am left with 2 options... get a brush and scrub my teeth... basically grit my teeth and combat my problems head on... or.. or ... or.... let the paste fall aimlessly onto the floor, bit by bit ... throughout the length of the tube... until there is no more paste left inside and time reaches a standstill... death. Shh.. don't worry, I haven't reached that stage yet.


As I type this, somewhere at the back of my head I'm aware that I have an exam to ... nay.. I have 2 exams to write tomorrow.. courtesy a foiled attempt at passing a previous paper. I've decided to put all my eggs in 1 basket at go flat out on the paper I have to re-attempt. I'm aware that this simply means that I'll have to come back again with another empty basket and carry the next set of eggs... in other words write the other exam again next year. Using the analogy, I'm flatting the bottom end of the tube just a teeny weeny bit. Hopefully no paste oozes out.. and even if it does, pray I make good use of it by scrubbing my teeth instead of letting it crawl down the sink and getting lost in oblivion.

So why am I sharing such personal details on a public forum? Frankly I don't know. Rest assured it has nothing to do with the fact that I can appear to be a bit of an emo punk rebel at times with the whole "fuck the world" attitude. I guess it simply comes down to the fact that everybody wants to leave behind something when they're no longer here. Artists have their paintings, singers have their music, acheivers have their achievements.... I have this blog.