Simple Man

January 29, 2010

Simple Man – Taken for a ride?

Mama told me, when I was young
Sit beside me, my only son
And listen closely to what I say
And if you do this, it’ll help you some sunny day
Yeah it will

Oh, take your time don’t live too fast
Troubles will come and they will pass
You’ll find a woman and you’ll find love
And don’t forget son there’s is someone up above

And be a simple kind of man
Oh be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh won’t you do this for me son, if you can

Forget your lust for the rich man’s gold
All that you need is in your soul
And you can do this (oh baby) if you try
All that I want from you my son is to be satisfied

And be a simple kind of man
Oh be something that you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh won’t you do this for me son, if you can

Oh don’t you worry
You’ll find yourself
Follow your heart
And nothing else
And you can do this (oh baby) if you try
All that I want from you my son is to be satisfied

And be a simple kind of man
Oh be something that you love and understand
So baby be a simple, be a simple man
Oh won’t you do this for me son, if you can.

— Lynyrd Skynyrd

Taken for granted and taken for a ride, should Simple man always remain simple?


Wasted Sunsets

December 5, 2009

Venue: Palace Grounds
Date : 30th Oct 2009
A concert has been organized by Maruti Suzuki A-Star and the rock band ‘Parikrama‘ is called to perform with a guy who is Javed Akhtar’s son. Did I say Javed Akhtar’s son? Apologies for the incomplete intro. He is the director of a movie. Incomplete intro again. He is the lead hero of a movie. Incomplete intro again. Oops, sorry! He is a ‘rock star’ dude 😉

Rock On… Hai Ye Waqt Ka Ishaara
Rock On… Har Lamha Pukaara
Rock On… Yuhin Dekhta Hai Kya Tu
Rock On… Zindagi Millegi Na Dobaara…

Farhan Akhtar croaks, stretching his vocal cords. Few of the frenzied women, going gaga over the ‘rock star’, try to breach the security to go up the stage. Many guys are head banging and smoking joints. Auntyjis (and few uncles as well) are screaming “Farhan, Farhan” as he sways his mike like Ian Gillian and a fake smile is seen on Nitin Malik’s face (The vocalist of the rock band Parikrama) who seems to wait for his turn, collect the money from the organizers, gulp couple of beers and happily go back to his hotel room thinking why he wasn’t born to be a ‘rock star’. Parikrama seems like playing in ‘Ma bhagwati vishal jaagran‘ (which is organized by the ‘mohalla kalyaan samiti‘ during Holi in North India) where the vocalist keeps chanting – “bolo saachey darbaar ki jai” and the bhajans are sung to the tunes of ‘Dil to pagal hai‘ and the real devotees become high on ‘desi tharra‘ (country liquor) whole night and the Sari clad auntyjis are seen only in the morning, pushing each other, breaking the queues, to grab loads of ‘halwa‘, prepared in desi ghee that is served as prasad.

“How are you doing Bangaalooore?”. He asks and blows air kisses. The hallucinating babes scream and rest of the janta is just too happy after the celebrity darshan. A-Star guys are happy as well and they show their happiness by illuminating the back stage by sparklers and flying rockets that were perhaps bought on very cheap price from Hosur or Sivakasi during the off Diwali season. I mutely observe the hysteria and with so much ‘fun’ going around me, start to think – Am I normal?


But the rocker doesn’t stop there. U2 is next and Beatles is massacred as well. An ultimate obituary is paid to the legendary band!
After 20 minutes of divine performance, the rocker eventually bids goodbye, much to the disappointment of the females (babes and auntyjis included 😉 ) and the long wait of Nitin Malik gets over as he finally gets hold of the mike. As soon as he starts singing “Highway to Hell”, the Bengaluru cops, determined to preserve the sanity of Indian culture, enter the scene and stop the concert citing high noise levels. The concert is called off and we curse the cops for their Prem Chopra attitude. Though exasperated, I find solace in the fact that we got inside through a free pass and it didn’t hurt much, at least in terms of money 😉

I slowly move out towards the parking lot and in a sub conscious mind, start humming –
Chilla Chilla Ke Main Ye Sabse Kehdoon
Rock On… Hai Ye Waqt Ka Ishaara

Master of puppets

May 26, 2009

Ye desh hai veer jawano ka,
albelon ka, mastano ka
is desh ka yaaron kya kehna,
ye desh hai duniya ka gehna

Not sure what Sahir Ludhiaanvi had in his mind when he wrote this song, probably a desh bhakti geet? Or when OP Nayyar was composing the music for this song, they probably thought that this would actually shake the whole nation. Yes, it actually did and is still “shaking” us since last five decades. The other contemporary melodies mellowed down soon, but, none of them ( barring ‘aaj merey yaar ki shaadi hai‘ ) could match the charisma associated with this classic. When other baraat songs were mostly ephemeral and remained seasonal, this Sahir-Nayyar combo remains the hot favorite in any north Indian baraat even after eons.

Recently, I had the privilege of attending one of the Rajasthani wedding where the great “Master band” of Udaipur was called for the baraat. For all those who are unaware of this bliss, I can bet, you too will forget all your salsa classes or those Latino dances or the basic synchronized dancing steps, and would move your bums and dance like weirdos when this song plays. The whole moment is so magical, complete in itself and if you’re on booze, the world sounds so platonic 😉

Well the usual tussle between the hyper excited blokes and the band members continued. The band members were pulling the chariot in the forward direction and the baraatis, determined to prove Newton’s third law, pulled it back in the opposite direction. To keep baraat moving with a steady pace, different colored currency notes were flashed. The guys struck a deal. One currency note, and the song would go on and on. By the time the baraat reached the bride’s place, this Ganga-Jamuna masterpiece had completed its sixth iteration 🙂


A happy ending to a great baraat, the baton at bride’s place was passed on to “baharon phool barsao, mera mehboob aaya hai“.

The battle rages on..

April 23, 2009

Been so many words so much to say
Words are not enough to keep the guns at bay
Some live in fear some do not
Some gamble everything on who gets the final shot
Oh don’t talk to me of love
It’s obvious it’s not enough
Annihilation kill them all
Capitulation watch the mighty fall
The road to glory is lined in red
And though the reason now is gone
The battle rages on.

Was it love or hate that got here first
Hate’s a habit it’s hard to shake the curse
Kill to live and live to die
Human nature you let the strong survive
Oh don’t talk to me of love
Be serious it’s not enough
Annihilation kill them all
Capitulation watch the mighty fall
The road to glory is lined in red
And though the reason now is gone
The battle rages on.

—— Deep Purple


Is this a setting SUN or beginning of a new dawn?

Coming back to life..

December 8, 2008

This is perhaps my first post in a year. Well, I wasn’t hibernating nor was I “introspecting”. For all those who know me well, it shouldn’t be a surprise. Yes, I am indeed one of those souls who take pride in laid-back attitude of theirs. “Aalasya” is one of my strongest traits and the only word in English language that might come close to describing this great quality of mine is – Laziness. I would try to post on a regular basis, but no resolutions – I am averse to them 😉

It is Sunday afternoon and my head sways on a Pearl Jam’s track – “I’ am still alive”. As the ruthless strumming on the electric guitar reaches its crescendo, giving hallucinations to a true hard rock fan, the Bangalore electricity department abides by its promise of energy conservation and obliges us with yet another round of load shedding. Exasperated, I try to find solace in the FM radio of my mobile phone. (Yes, for all those who are wondering – All your conspiracies of battering my antique piece have paid off and I now own a phone that does have a FM radio as well as a colored screen 🙂 ) After remaining faithful for almost 6 years, my black & white Sony CMD J70 (Mind you, it was 100% pure Sony in those days, having a great philosophy of KISS – Keep It Simple Stupid! And without an iota of infiltration from Ericsson, it was indeed an impeccable beauty) couldn’t religiously follow the signals like the Hutch’s dog and I had to reluctantly move along with the same opinionated Nokia brigade who are fanatic about their mobile phones as if it helps them understand Einstein’s theory of relativity.

Left with no choice other than listening to FM radio, I feel a sinusoidal shift in the music genre. The identities started getting swapped from the loud Irish band to some desi, remix style, irritating crap. Confused with this chaos, I tune in to Vividh Bharati where “Aap ki farmaayish” is being played. The host is doing an outstanding job in reading out the names of people who have placed the request for a song. The list is endless – family members, relatives, friends, neighbors and the other blessed souls of entire mohalla. The eternal wait gets over and the song starts, but it is cut short by a family planning advertisement. All the curious listeners are being told about the advantages of vasectomy and many of us feel privileged to imbibe this free flowing gyan. Looks like our health minister, basking in the glory of his anti smoking tirade, is soon going to take stringent measures for population control as well. What’s coming up next, nobody is sure. Perhaps people might soon be paying fines or facing imprisonment for childbirth 🙂

FM or no FM, mobile phones could be some of the people’s biggest obsession. On a recent flight from Delhi to Bangalore (where I was labeled an outcaste by my neighbor on the onset itself, well proven by the disgusting look he gave me after staring at my mobile phone 😉 ), I came across the swanky phones that I hadn’t even seen in my dreams. Well, the guy had to carry this traveling hazard of sitting next to me where he was perhaps cursing JetLite officials for selling cheap tickets due to which an outcaste and poor guy like me was able to afford the air travel. During the landing, even the most gorgeous airhostess (Gosh!! Draped in six yards and an hourglass figure, she looked like Katrina Kaif) could not convince him to switch his phone off after the plane was still not ready to disembark. Just before getting up, I managed to sneak the text he was trying to send. It read – “Darling, I miss you”.