Bottle brush reds

There’s this distinct memory that keeps flashing before my eyes.
It’s a summer evening, about thirty minutes past 5. I’m not old enough to know how to read time, but the sun is at about the place in the sky, when they said it was half past 5.

 I’m at my grand dad’s place, standing atop his boundary wall as the sun is on its way down. We stand face to face.

The end of the road glimmers at me. Black and gold. Not a sight one would forget. All while a fully loaded bottle brush tree sweeps in the warm breeze, over my head. My vest, damp with sweat that found its way trickling down my neck, from behind my ears.

And then i spot my mum riding back from work. Wearing a starched saree, that wouldn’t budge an inch, even against the warm wind. I hear that familiar sputter grow louder as she closes in on her Luna. I jump off the wall, run onto the road, get her to stop and ride into the driveway, standing on the vehicle’s foot-mat as she balances her way in.

High point of the day.

Mti kills it on the axe

So there was this online competetion of sorts, among indian indie guitarists. There was a PRS on stake. You were supposed to upload a solo on a backing track that was provided to all through a free download.
Here's an entry i fell in love with. Been listening to it more than about 5 times a day since a week now.
The guy's called Mti. He's from Nagaland. God knows where the fuck he's been hiding all this while.
respect

today

I was driving down home from Delhi in my zen, when i hit a traffic jam in Faridabad. But i wasn't complaining, because it was the opposite side of the two way road that was locked.
I wasn't complaining, till a huge Toyota SUV with a red beacon light broke away from the jam and sped into my lane, head on. I came to a screeching halt, so did the Toyota. And almost instantly the driver rolled down his opaque, black tinted window. He signaled me to back up.
And back up all the way till the end of the lane.
I could have, there was no one behind me. But why the fuck? You mister Toyota, are in the wrong fucking lane. Surely, you're not in an emergency. Besides what sort of an emergency could you possibly be in. Because, SUVs with flashing beacon lights aren't really known for responding to calamities.
So I didn't budge.
Soon enough, the traffic on his side started to move and he forced his way back onto his side.He stopped right next to me and barked, "teri akar ne thikaane lagaa dunga. kaun hai tu behenchod?"
I pondered the question as his beacon flashed in my face. I had no answer.

the first rant this year.

i hate to admit it. But life is slowing the fuck down. And what's scary is that im only 25 years old.

It was about 5 years back when i was dabbling between 2 bands, college, music school , a girlfriend, animatics AND a mass media course all at the same time.
People'd christened me "mad scientist" back then. But i fucking loved being all over the city. Studying, jamming, learning, romancing. I loved not having time to spare.

today,i work in what they'd call the best ad agency around.
I have a girlfriend who i know im going to settle down with
Im committed to a band that's doing well in the circuit as well.

But it just doesn't seem enough. I mean if i were to sit down and run the past month back in my head, not one instance would wow me. Where is the sensationalism?

fine i recorded an album with the guys. But now what? i sit on my ass for another few months for it to be produced and released.

Also, I never thought id ever get used to the unpredictability of advertising to the extent that i'd start finding it predictable. And by that, Ive hit a new low, boss.

I think imma to shake things up a bit.
Be a little stupid, and do things the wrong way.

The rant ends. The riot begins.

Metro Blues

So ive been traveling in the delhi metro for quite some time now. Was never a regular, but ever since i shifted base from gurgaon to delhi, the metro's been a saviour of sorts, especially through the summers.

One cant help but notice the mix of people that travels in the lines, unlike other public transport. You come across quite some characters, and for people in creative businesses, its not difficult to find a muse even!
I found mine for this post!
I think im going to print some stickers with these lines on em. And then slyly post them on metro property. Sure it's vandalism, but it'll give the bored commuter a good laugh.

Dear guy sleeping on the seat meant for the old and physically challenged, everyone knows that you’re not really sleeping.

Dear stud with the Bluetooth earphone. You look like a total retard talking to yourself.

Dear man with the straight face. You might have not realised, but you winced when you gassed us.

Dear auntie with the veggie bag. Your pointy bra hurts us more than your elbows.