The City Boy’s shame

Stop reading if you are in no mood to read a nostalgic and teary eyed recital. Escape.

This blog has so many emo references that sometimes I’m forced to think if my life is  so depressing in the first place. On a daily basis, I find myself in situations where there seems to be no room for sorrow. I fool around, crack witty remarks and in general survive without wondering much about consequences. It almost seems like I shield myself from a certain “serious” part of life that remains hidden behind layers of fake laughter. But once in a while,something breaks through that barrier and I’m forced to face life. Life which is unbelievably diabolic and seems to love smirking at my stupidity. Today was such a day.

I grew up in Delhi but like a few might know,my parents are originally from Kerala from where they shifted to seek a better life and fortunes. So I was raised like any normal kid in the North with more of an affinity towards rajma-chawal than idli-sambar. But my parents tried desperately to make sure that I never forgot my roots. They faced heavy resistance from me and my elder siblings as we just couldn’t identify with that. Yet, they tried small things like making us watch Malayalam movies and eating Southern delicacies once in a while. This gave us a faint taste of our origins but never the full package. That would happen during the month long family trips to Kerala. Our relatives would think we were uptight city kids who refused to communicate. They,however, soon realized that language was the actual barrier. I remember talking to my cousins as a kid using hand symbols/actions. Those days are blurred but what I remember vividly is my last trip to Kerala.

This July, a month before I sailed away to Purdue, my parents wanted me to go back one last time. I remember protesting like a Libyan rebel about how dumb the whole idea was. The fact that my own eldest sister was settled there didn’t seem to be part of the criteria. Guess the city wind does that to you. Anyways, my parents prevailed and we flew straight to the land where my blood relatives dwell. It was funny as at that point I hadn’t considered the fact that I wouldn’t be meeting them for like another 4-5 years. And these were people who actually cared about me. I remember counting the days like I was completing a jail sentence. I couldn’t wait to leave. There are 2 incidents I will never forget during this journey.

The first was we finally went to the place where my dad grew as a kid. It was up a hill and as he recounted tales of how he walked around 5 miles to go to school, something weird happened. All of a sudden, I just didn’t wanna leave. The hills, the wind and the calm I felt were new experiences. It was peace like I had never felt before. I met relatives I had just heard of before. This was of course not told to anyone because..er…I’m dumb.

The second memory is one that I will never forget and is responsible for my sudden emo outburst today. I remember travelling to my Dad’s younger sister’s place just two days before we left. I was personally not about to go as well because I just didn’t feel like. But I was dragged along with my parents . My aunt Mary, was suffering from cancer at that point and everything was apparently in control. I grumbled along the way over how awful the weather was, how the traffic got to me and even how weird the surrounding area smelled! I guess seeing her stopped my moaning. The trip in itself was irrelevant. We all just had lunch together and then she wished me luck. She was once known for her sarcasm and light-hearted outlook towards life. She had lost her strength now but she did manage to punk me once in a while. Anyways, she blessed me and told me that I would do great in life. I smiled as convincingly as I could and walked away.

4 hours ago she died of cancer. And I feel pathetic. Pathetic because of my attitude towards where I truly belong. And also because I was helpless.  I talked to my cousin who showed remarkable maturity in the situation. He told me he was happy the pain was over. He said he knew she was happy now. I cut the phone and walked back to my room.

Then nothing. Love hurts.

Inside the head

I’m not sure since when but I guess 8-9th would be a good guess. Yup. That has to be time when I started getting addicted to music. I remember my first Sony MP3 player and how I would plug myself in and jump around the house like a drunk monkey to mom’s fury and to everyone else s  general disgust. My fascination began with Punjabi R&B and Linkin Park. So you could see me crooning this or head banging to this at just about the same time. I had this weird habit(and still do) to ask people for their music and then sorta compare notes. At that point, any new music was treasured.

Like most teenage guys, I was drawn towards rock/metal initially. LP was an obvious influence but I soon got to know about Creed, Nickelback  and Metallica. Names like Iron Maiden ,Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd remained domains I wasn’t bothered to touch. Also, it was at this time that I developed my everlasting respect for Eminem. I know people love to diss rap as not being music and I have no intention whatsoever to take part in that discussion. He just makes sense to me and that should be enough.

Boy bands were the thing as well and I won’t lie about never stepping enjoying their tracks. Blue are still a personal favorite. Try this.

But I guess it is in Class 12 that my tastes finally evolved and a more mature sense appeared. I have always been an advocate of how important lyrics are. The tune might be great but if the words don’t match,then the song’s ruined. Till now I would listen to recommended music or stuff from my sisters collection. But now i decided to go on a music hunt. Discover stuff of my own and build my own collection. And even though that quest continues, I find it relieving to have finally unearthed stuff that had been sitting in front of me all along.

It started with Dave Mathews Band. Satellite had been a personal favorite long ago but I soon discovered how soulful the rest of their stuff was as well. Another personal favorite here . Then my favorite band, Poets of the Fall. Everyone had heard Carnival of Rust but stuff like Sleep went unnoticed. Plus, their Twilight Theater is the greatest album I’ve ever heard purely on basis of the perfect sync between the music and the lyrics. The Script and Coldplay are bands I love and respect as well. Iron Maiden’s Final Frontier was also great btw. Opera is something I never touched on before and things haven’t changed much. Over the course of the year, I developed a new found love for both the piano and the violin.

Like most things in my life,I picked up a lot of stuff from Chubba. Like Aerosmith , Billy Joel , Celine Dion , Michael Jackson and tons of others whom I frankly can’t think of now. She played a major role as well in diversifying my playlist.

So do I ignore Bollywood altogether? Nope. Though I would say it does get a bit too mushy for me sometimes.

So now I’m like a wayward soul drifting around looking for new stuff. The iTunes store has been helpful too,though cut a hole in wallet.

A few favorites then?

Flobots-Handlebars

Nickelback- Far Away

Free Bird (Amazing guitar solo)

John Butler Trio-Ocean

Johnny Cash- There Aint No Grave (Check out Hurt as well)

Plus a weird Chem Lab video

Let’s Write

I am finally here. Dinner in 13 minutes(yeah I’m that precise ) and then a engineering meeting in an hour(where i stare aimlessly into mid air). I’m tired I guess. I found this to be the only way to let go. I’m kinda inspired by a “nut” who finds it relieving to write daily posts. I already feel good. Premature?

So what’s been happening? Many things. Like someone reminded me recently,too many things have happened without me even realizing. Details are too boring. It seems awkward to write on the blog right now. I have ignored it for far too long. It seems weird to read my old posts. I guess I’m a different person when I write. Or maybe I pretend to be. Emo shit. Blah.

Oh yeah we won. World Cup obviously. It was one of those situations when you know you’re happy but can’t fucking feel it. I waited so long for the moment and when it finally arrived,it was so…lame? Apart from a bunch of crazy friends jumping around me, no one else seemed to bother. My nation. My people. All seemed well..non-existent. Facebook seemed to be my only solace. And that in itself is so depressing.

Exams arrive soon. Starting with CS tomorrow. I don’t think I hate it. Not yet. I guess I can’t be bothered too.

United seem on the brink of another victory. Sorta meaningless in front of India’s WC win.

Purdue got crushed by VCU. Sad end.

Wrote a bunch of crappy poems/notes on Facebook. Feel extremely stupid about them now.

I am extremely happy about Sachin though. Our leader,  our true king.

Guess it’s time to go. Feels good.

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