Why does most harm come to the most harmless?
No tragedy is greater than a natural disaster.
I just cannot wrap my head around this. Why them? And why not us?
Karma has always been horribly thoughtless, has it not?
No country and no man deserves to die this way.

I'm sorry, Nepal, I'm really really sorry for what you have faced.

If anyone is looking for someone, or has found someone in Nepal please follow the link.
http://google.org/personfinder/2015-nepal-earthquake?lang=en

To everyone in Mumbai who wishes to help, please contact LizLyn Careers Pvt. Ltd. +919867542041

You and I, in this beautiful world.

Today I took Lucy out to meet my friends in Andheri. 

Let me rephrase that:

Today, for the first time, I took Lucy out to meet my friends in Andheri.

It was quite exciting actually! Me and her driving down at 12am listening to Lobo on the radio.

I sang a verse and she licked my face.

We reached a little early so had to wait under the building till everyone else reached.

In the mean time Lucy's charm woke up all the dogs in the neighbourhood. 

This was fun.

A silent neighbourhood at this hour with street dog barks that echo till Lokhandwala, those are the streets of Yari Road! What made it worse were the giant-eyed stares the watchmen around gave me because of this.

Anyway, at least it wasn't raining. 

So we all met. Everyone was excited to meet Lucy and she was excited to meet them too.
Only difference being that her excitement died within 5 seconds. I love her that way. She's like,
*HEYY!!* *hug* *hug* *lick* *paw* *wag* *wag* *bye*.

Adorable.

A little while passed, we were all contemplating life and enjoying the breeze on the terrace.
This is when things started to get surreal. I could feel Lucy telling me that she had started feeling cold. So I went and sat next to her and hugged her. She hates hugs, obviously. Lucy. But that moment, I could feel her emotions. I knew she was uncomfortable in the environment. She was slowly getting into her defensive position and she was way too alert. The kind of alert that turns even the most domestic into wild. 

But she was very subtle about it. So subtle it was almost subliminal.

And somehow I could feel the gravity of the state she was in. 

Though funnily, it's not like she wasn't having fun. She was loving the attention everyone was giving her by petting her and playing with her.

You know how the connection is between a Dragon and his Rider? The kind that is mentioned between Eragon and Saphira? It's as though they become one being. I think I felt the way same way with her, though on a slightly smaller scale. 

So we left. 

We reached the car and she dove right in. Poor thing. I followed her in, she jumped on me and licked my face. I apologized to her and then we turned on the radio and started to drive home. Only this time listening to the morose Adnan Sami on the radio. (I wish 94.3 were a 24/7 radio channel.)

She was safe. She was warm. And she was once again excited about being in the car with the windows down and the brilliant monsoon breeze.
We reached home safely. Generally when I get home at this hour she starts barking loudly from the bedroom, waking everybody up. I could never sneak back in the house because of her.
But today she was with me.
As I bent to get her out of her leash, she licked my face again and quietly walked into the bedroom with me. She popped into bed next to Sehar and I put her blanket on her.

It wasn't the most successful trip, but it really brought both of us so much closer.  We both felt it. 

Sometimes in the midst of trying to take care of your pets, you forget, tragically, how much joy they can actually bring you. I will be spending so much more real quality time with her now.

"Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life"

Sometimes it takes you a really long time to figure out what the singer could be saying.
Although this time I wish I hadn't found out.

Shine on Arjun, shine on. 

Moon

Looks like the moon has been misplaced
Looks like it's vanished from the sky
Where did it go without trace?
Looks like I found it in your eyes.

Listen to my new song here!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmYOapXad0k&feature=youtu.be

Read the description for a link to the free download 

The Left Turn

Waiting at a traffic signal, I saw two cars right in front of me. Both had their left indicator on. The cars were of a different make and had their indicators turned on with a slight delay between the two.

The result?
A haphazard and random blinking of lights.

Each car's indicator blinked in constant rhythm individually. However with the two lights placed next to each other, it created forever changing rhythm. Something if represented in sound would be considered as noise.

But then I noticed something as I continued to stare at them- the two lights, though blinking in their own time, at one point (and for a very brief moment) appeared as though they were blinking together.
It was as if the two met for a while at a point and then went their own way.

I just found that so beautiful.
I mean, even amidst the chaos the two found a common ground. Even if it was for the briefest moment.

Aren't we the same?
We each blink to our own rhythm as we go along. But then somewhere along the way we meet someone with whom our rhythm perfectly synchronizes.
With some people it syncs for a long time and with some people for a short time.

It's all just so beautiful.

1. Love it till you hate it.

2. Remind yourself why you loved it.

3. Repeat steps 1 and 2.

Awkward and Incomplete

You're in the last seat of the train. You know the longest one, which is from one window to the other. Your mind is swaying as usual, you're bored. No music, no view.
As your mind is slowly turning off, you suddenly feel the jerk of a speed breaker.
Now that you're attentive again you're expecting to feel the second jerk- because obviously, the first bump is from the front 2 tires followed by the 2 behind.

But that second jerk never comes.

This feeling.

My Evolution Theory of Video Games and Music

Music started off with the most primitive instruments consisting probably of sticks and rocks.
Slowly, into more sophisticated instruments like the piano or saxophone.
Guitars turned into electric guitars, and pianos turned into keyboards- our first step into the digital world of music.
Then came techno and now our latest craze of dub step and EDM.

Are we slowly forgetting our instruments and going entirely into computers?

Video games started off as what? 4bit? 8bit? Slowly progressing into 16bit and 32bit. Slowly 3D.
Now our graphics are so much superior. With virtual reality it's almost impossible to differentiate between reality and it's virtual counterpart.
And isn't that's where we want to head? Into reality?
The movie 'Gamer' directed by Brian Taylor and Mark Nevaldine speaks of just this, except in a much darker way. This movie introduces the concept of using real people, in the real world as bates and characters to be controlled, like a video game, by other people.
These human bates are paid a lot of money to be a part of this; the 'gamers' pay a lot for such a game.

Are we slowly turning virtual reality into reality? Walking from the computer to the real world?


Okay so here's my theory:
As music slowly becomes completely computer generated, video games slowly become real.

She

She is beautiful.
She is independent.
She is head strong. The strongest I know.

She is focused.
She is intelligent.
She is honest. Brutally honest.

She is fearless.
She believes in action.
She can achieve the impossible.

She brings out the best in me, even if that means insulting me, and making me feel miserable.
But she knows, and I know, that the only way to reshape me is to break me and recast me from the mould.

I trust her.
I love her.
I will learn from her.

I need her more than she knows.

She is my idol. 
She is my soul mate.
She is my miracle. 

Expressionless

My face generally, shows no expressions.
My angry face is probably the same has my sad face. And my sad face is probably the same as my bored face.
If I were an actor, I'd be an Arjun Rampal.

I don't know why this is the case.

I've honestly never been good at expressing myself. Maybe that's why I like to paint and maybe that's why I like to write. To substitute and vent out my emotions through ways apart from my face.

I love to sing, but I realise I don't like my singing because I'm never able to sing with the emotion the song was written with.
My vocal teacher pointed this out to me actually. Now along with singing, he's also teaching me how to bring out the emotion of each word in the song. I find it really fascinating, how expressions work.
It's not just the quality of the voice, it's how it's sung.
You can be a terrible singer, but if you get the emotions right, you can make someone cry.

I went for an audition for a television advertisement a while ago. Those people there were giving me different situations where I had to change my facial expression accordingly and instantly. I don't need to write how well that went.

But this will change.
I mean I'll never be a Jim Carrey of expressions, but definitely better than what I am now.
Feels good to work on oneself.


Now a quote by one of the greatest singer-songwriters ever to have walked on this planet followed by an expressionless selfie I audaciously took of myself in the bathroom:

"Can't read my, can't read my, no he can't read my poker face. P-P-P-Poker face P-P-Poker Face.
MUM MUM MUM MAAAAHHHHH"


                                  

Jaan jaati hai jab uth ke jaate ho tum...

Youn hi pehlu mein baithe raho

Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo

Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo 

Umr bhar na taraste raho
Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo

Baat itni meri maan lo
Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo

Rok lo aaj ki raat ko
Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo

Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo
Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo

Soon.

Someday I'll have a Google Doodle in my name. 

Street Lamps on Cobblestone Streets

Yesterday I decided to go out for a walk in the evening, around 4 pm.
Something got into me and I ended up wearing kurta-pajama. Funny, I didn't know I owned this kurta pajama. The kurta was dark maroon and black and the pajama was black. It came with a black stole that I put around my neck.

I walked out of my door barefoot into the courtyard of my castle. Square stone tiles formed a generous pathway across the wet grass of the small garden. To my right, I heard the laughter of voices I recognised.

I walked towards the laughter. I noticed a strange blend of several friends I've had over the past two decades of my life. A few friends from Delhi, a few friends from Pune, a few friends from Mumbai.
It felt like an unusual form of a re-union meant only for me.
But funny thing, we all knew each other.
All of us dressed in our best ethnic clothes.

The evening was bright, vibrant and colourful and the music was cheerful and uplifting.  We were all dancing on the cold white marble floor, barefoot and free.

No one spoke a word. The laughter penetrated our hearts. And the feeling was beautiful.

Night took over and the marble floor became even colder. We jumped onto the wet carpet of grass and soaked in the pure energy of the earth.

The white castle lit up with subtle hues of green, blue and purple. The music grew louder and reverberated across the courtyard.

The surrounding wooden fence around the castle set itself free from the earth and started floating toward the sky. The fence transformed into hypnotic aurora lights with shades of green, white and blue. The lights made their way back to the palace grounds creating a fence of dancing lights. What a sight that was. Magical, almost like a dream.
We stared in awe as a dark blue and purple butterfly sat on a friend's nose and immediately burst into tiny fragments of bright green and blue lights. The sparks of the butterfly flew high above us and turned into fireflies.

No one spoke a word. The light penetrated our hearts. And the feeling was beautiful.

Oh simple thing, where have you gone?

Yesterday, I woke up on a hill. It was cold, but I wasn't feeling cold. Everything around me was grey- The tree, the grass, the sky, the dirt, the stones. I was old, but I felt young.
Was I living in the post apocalypse era?
I was at the edge of the highest peak around. There was only one lonesome tree standing with me.
The breeze was blissful. The song 'Somewhere Only We Know' by Keane was echoing throughout the valley.
That made me smile. I knew what it was trying to tell me.

My phone's alarm broke the serenity. I looked at it and realised it was time to go back home.
There I started my perilous journey down hill. There was no pathway. It was simply a steep deathly jump to the ground. But I found my way around next to an incredibly beautiful, but grey waterfall. This path was also not an easy path. It had the deceptive flimsy semi solid stones everywhere, which meant no reliable support. There were times I had to jump from one end of the waterfall to the other only to avoid the thorn plantations and the poison ivy.

How did I get to the top in the first place?

I had no memory of anything.

I made it half way to the bottom. The hill reached a narrow plateau which allowed me to sit  and catch my breath while I enjoyed the view. I was wet, dirty and cold, even though I didn't feel wet, dirty or cold.

The sound of a car coming my way broke my reverie. I looked to my left and noticed a beautiful black sedan with my cousin brother, Sahil, driving it. Strangely, my cousin brother doesn't know how to drive
a car. And neither did he ever wear spectacles. Why was he wearing spectacles?

We smiled at each other. By the time he got closer I noticed my other cousin brother, Sajeel, sitting in the backseat along with my mother. They were all smiling and waving at me.

I don't remember what happened next.
An intelligent person would have sat with them in the car. But I don't think I did, and I can't recollect why. There is a blackout in my mind between the period of me spotting them, and me continuing my way further downhill.

Hmm...

I reached another plateau. I decided to take a walk around the hill. Everything was still, everything was grey.

In the distance I saw a boy jogging towards me. A boy with tied up dread locks in a textured white t shirt, khakis and a pair of black and white Converse shoes.
It was one of my juniours from college.
As if nothing was unusual about this situation, we both smiled and waved at each other and went our own ways.

There was another black out.

It was yesterday, and I woke up on a hill. It was cold, but I wasn't feeling cold. Everything around me was grey- The tree, the grass, the sky, the dirt, the stones. The song 'Somewhere Only We Know' by Keane echoed throughout the valley.

I smiled because because I knew what it was trying to tell me.

What a Wonderful World

I was walking home last night from a place really far away. It was after midnight and it was beginning to drizzle. There was no body around for a long time.
In the distance I saw a patrol officer dressed in white standing next to his bike which shared the same colour as his uniform. I, very hesitantly, walked up to him and asked him if he could give me a ride home.
The officer gave me a kind, hospitable smile.
He very sweetly handed over the keys to his bike to me and told me, in his pleasant baritone, that I could take his bike home.
His response came to me as quite an unusual, unexpected and suspicious surprise.

It's funny how terribly conditioned we are in this world that when someone does something bad to you, you say you expected it. But when someone does something incredibly nice for you, you refuse to believe and accept it.

I had never ridden a bike before, but the energy around was so positive that I couldn't refuse his strange offer. He seemed so sure of himself that I accepted the keys, sat on his bike and started riding.
Riding the bike wasn't so hard.

I had a smile on my face the whole ride home.

From the Inside

I heard Linkin Park's Meteora album after over 7 years today. And no matter what other people say, I've got to admit that I still absolutely love this album.

I bought this album back in the 6th grade. It was my first official Rock Album and I was in love with it. The music, the beats, the composition, the vocals. Everything, apart from the lyrics, were perfect. I never hated the lyrics, I just could never relate to them. But however emo the lyrics may have been, they were still written very poetically.
Most people considered and still consider this album to be very immature. And listening to it makes you  immature automatically. They say their music is the kind that only 12 year old angst girls listen to.
But I don't care what people say, I love this album and still consider it their best even after all these years.

Now I'm not writing this post to critique this album. I'm writing this because listening and enjoying this album all over again, it sparked a thought in my tiny head...

Do I only still love this album because I heard it as a child? I was 11.
I truly believe peoples' taste in music evolves as they grow older, but I'm 20 now and I still love it.

This just got me to think about the children of this current generation. The one's listening to absolute rubbish composed by sell out, talentless, autotuned artists. I don't wish to take their names because it will start an argument, which is not the purpose of this write up. But ti those smart enough, they'll know who I'm talking about.

It's just scary to think about what popular music will be like in another decade. All I want to say is that we need to be careful to what we listen to when we're  kids, because no matter what happens, we will always love the music. It's stuck with us for the rest of our lives. I know even when I'm 50, I will love Meteora.
So choose music wisely, you don't want to regret listening to it later. Because looking at the current music scene, the possibility of you regretting loving the music you listen to right now is very high. 

I like to stare at old people and wonder what they might have looked like when they were young

You know that feeling, when you're having something delicious after a long hard days work? That most vibrant and rejuvenating and most perfect feeling of satisfaction when you deservingly take a bite into your fresh warm food. 
And then mid way through this matchless and divine moment something important comes up and you have to leave immediately. You're forced to keep the food aside till your work is complete. Deep, sorrowful music plays at the back while a crestfallen tear trickles down your heart as you reluctantly step away from your wholesome God.

You can't work straight. The taste of the unfinished, tender food lingers in your mouth.
The food gets cold. The work is left incomplete. 

Voices

Whether we accept it or not, we all are in the constant process of learning.
Learning to live with ourselves. As Bon Jovi say, 'It takes a while to learn to live in your own skin'.

Before I started recording my voice, I always used to imagine myself having this deep baritone of a voice. You know,  the kind Marko has- the lead singer of Poets of the Fall. (Yes laugh all you want).
This was during my mid-teens, when my voice was still cracking.
I don't know why, I guess I had been listening to and singing to too much POTF and Creed and Audioslave that I always expected my voice to end up like Scott Stapp's too.
I recorded my first song at home when I was 16. Was a slow piano song. While recording it, I was expecting the end result of my voice on the recording to sound nice and heavy.
But obviously, that wasn't so. A shocker.
I thought I had a good voice until I heard it myself.
I thought maybe I didn't sing the notes well enough to make it sound baritone enough. So I recorded the whole song again.
Now because I failed again, I hated my voice even more. I wondered if this would happen to all the vocalists. Hating their own voices. Bleh.
And after that, for some masochistic reason I heard some more Creed and System of a Down trying to imitate the vocalists and envying in a way their voices.
I'm 19 now, going on 20. I've recorded a couple songs now and still hate my voice. I can't bear the sound of it.
I had a whole Jason Mraz phase too, (still kind of do), where I hoped my voice would at least sound like his. But again, not even close. When I tried to compare it, it appears that my voice in slightly deeper than Mraz's but way thinner than Marko's. Somewhere in between.
I also in fact had a point in time where I hoped that I sounded as hypnotic as Sting, or funky like Athony Keidis. Failed pretty badly both ways..
But hey, I'm still in training. My voice is still not ready. And now that I'm coming to slowly accept my voice, I'm beginning to like that fact that I don't sound like anyone I know. It's good to be unique.
But then again, it looks like its going to be a long time till I start liking my voice.

Stole dad's car.

Karma's a bitch.

I have the best girlfriend in the world! :D