Mirror

Your life is full of contradictions  
Yet  you  say, all is well
The tears in  your  eyes are of joy or
Due to pain, you can’t tell
Look at all the things that you do 
The words you say, light as hay
I’ve been trying to see right through you
I don’t see no light or joy, just lies and cries that make me wonder


When was the last time you looked yourself in the mirror
And you said oh wow I am doing well, I am doing well


U said u’ve got friends and kins who care
But u’re here, all alone
You think u’ve got all a man could ask
But within, cold as stone
Bluffing your way through the laughing club 
May the smile stay, in the night you pray
I’ve been trying to see right through you
I don’t see no light or joy, just lies and cries that make me wonder


When was the last time you looked yourself in the mirror
And you said oh wow I am doing well, I am doing well

A Revolution We Named Mistake

No it’s not about some political revolution. This is the story of a part of my life I hold on to very dearly. This musical revolution touched the lives of all those who were a part of it. This is a story I say during all the shows of my rock Band called Brahma’z Mistake. I thought it is high time I put it down in writing. This is the Story of Brahma’z Mistake.

Brahma’z Mistake (BzM) was born in one of the most unlikely backdrops. The band was formed in the Institute of Management, Nirma University Ahmedabad. Ranked very highly in the rat race of Management Institutes, getting into the institute was a matter of determination and people had future, career, practical experience , industry exposure , high CTC campus placement etc on the top of their mind. The last thing that anyone of us thought was to be part of a Rock Bank in the 2 years we would be in the Campus. But this is where Brahma had different plans. Yes I know that this could be the story of any college based rock band. What makes it an unusual back drop with divine intervention to form a band? Well there is more to the back drop. Most other college based rock bands would have a musical history behind them. Trained on instruments/music, part of other bands in the past, done stage shows etc in the past etc. This is the added twist with BzM. Three self taught guitarists with negligible performance experience, one bathroom singer with negligible stage singing experience, and a drummer who had never sat in front of a drum kit and an experience of playing snare drums during March Past as the only relevant experience we were one odd bunch of music lovers. So that clears the unusual nature of the band formation in terms of the back drop.

Let me throw some light on the divine intervention, “The hand of Brahma”. In a hostel room allocation system based on draw of lots, the future vocalist and the future bassist ended up in the same room. The future rhythm guitarist landed up in the room right next to them. That was divine intervention number one. The vocalist’s name starts with S but the authorities somehow felt like using his middle name which starts with V while allocating class room seating arrangement in an alphabetical order. This being a usual confusion that could happen on any given day in the life of an Indian, our vocalist a mechanical engineer at heart decides to not go fight for it and just sit peacefully as long as he can legally sit on the last bench. What he did not realize was that Brahma had played his game. The future lead guitarist’s name starts with T while the Drummer’s name starts with U. So the configuration of the last bench in the class room looked like this; Lead Guitarist, Drummer, Lead Vocalist in alphabetical order. This deadly combination clubbed with the hostel room configuration, was the play that God had in stored for us.

Common love for music, similar tastes in music, general match of frequencies etc started developing a bond among the guys that formed the back bone of the band. As Amitabh Bachchan would say; “Yeah Band, doh type ka hoota … Doh type ka band hoota hai duniya mien”. There are two types of bands in the world. The first one and the more future oriented focused kind of band is where the band members are hunted for , selected and often poached based on their talents. It’s after the band is formed that the bonding between the band members is attempted, things work out, at times forced to work and at times things break down. Then there are bands that are friends first and band later. Here the music is just one of the reasons to bond but there are a lot of things that keeps the band together. Here the music is not a benchmark, no one is judged based on his talent to play an instrument, it’s just a mutually supporting, covering each other up kind of band. Not perfect as individuals but one heck of a force when combined. BzM falls into the latter category of bands.

It all started with music sessions in the room, with the guitarists on acoustic guitars, the drummer keeping beats on an inverted bucket, and the vocalist sitting in front of the computer for lyrics support. A slow and steady journey started from the hostel room to small get together parties to college shows to inter college competitions to independent shows. The progress was also on the performance front. The first show was a sight in itself. The bassist was playing bass on the top two strings of an acoustic guitar with the lows pumped up on the mixer, the lead guitarist was using a borrowed electric guitar, the rhythm guitarist was on an acoustic guitar and the drummer was keeping beats on cardboard boxes (with mic padded up and kept inside the box) and steel glasses (with coins in it, as make shift high hats/ crash). A humble start but one with immense amount of determination and a motto, that no matter what happens, one for all and all for one, the show must go on. With equipments rented for 2 to 3 days, we practiced through the night to get our acts

together. Timings, improvisations, stage antics to even audience participation we did not leave anything to chance. From managing all the logistics to public relations with the outside campus world to viral marketing and propagation of rock music to induce some interest in our campus audience, it was a mammoth effort. And when we look back now it all feels like madness in between the tight schedules of trimester based MBA education in India. I would go to the extent of saying that we have learned many management lessons from forming and running the band. Learned in a more practical and fun manner than the class room education.

The flow of events that we aptly named Brahma’z Mistake grew leaps and bounds. We just had two year to be together and perform with each other and we tried to make the most of it. But yet again God had better plans. When college was coming to an end and we thought it was the end of the road for our musical journey, He gave us all jobs in the south of India. With most of the members in the same city and others at an overnight distance, the band continued.

A journey that has panned seven years has seen many members joining the family. From Vocalists and instrumentalists who were part of the band in college to those who joined us in Chennai, and offstage members of the family, Brahma’z Mistake is not just about a few individuals, it’s about the collective. It’s about the story of “The Bundle of Sticks” we were taught when in school. It’s about how passion and bonding can give a serious competition to genuine talent. They say that you are sent to this world to do a specific job, there is a purpose for your existence. The last seven years, the smiles, the fun, the joy, the happy audience, words like “You guys made our evening”, it all makes me wonder if this is the purpose of my existence. This is to the golden part of my life, Brahma’z Mistake.

I Killed Someone

I killed someone and i feel elevated

Wiped his existence like he never existed

He was a disgrace to life itself

Had no reason to justify his existence

Should have killed him long ago

But i gave him a few chances

Now i couldn't take it any longer

I had to shoot the bugger

He kept crying it was all a mistake

Said he never meant to be a jerk

He claimed he tried to be good

Did things to make me feel better

I just couldn't take it any longer

I had to shoot the bugger

Pulling the trigger was satisfying

Being shot at was such a relief

I've killed myself a hundred times

Bled to be reborn not an ounce happier

The Celebration Called Life

Saw a Tamil Funeral Procession today and it got my thoughts running wild. Its not the first time, just that I chose to put it down now. Anyone from any part of the world would be stunned to see these processions. Complete with Fireworks, Drums, Loud music, dancing people. It is no less than a North Indian Wedding procession (Baarat). One would wonder why all the joy and celebration for someone who passed away. Was he such a bad man that people are happy he died. Most of the people would think that ways. Reason being we can not accept death as a good thing. The only emotions that death can bring to us are fear, sorrow, worry, frustration all negative. Death can never bring any kind of positive thoughts in our mind. And thus a tamil funeral procession also, only brings across negative emotions. Was he a horrible person, are these guys so insentive that they are celebrating his death, how mean could the dead person's family be etc. all negative thoughts. We can't even for once think of a positive reason for the celebrations and display of joy.

This is probably one place where we have failed as human beings. Different religions put it differently, passage to heaven, nirvana, moksha all mean the same thing in the end. For a well lived life, death is like a reward. The problem comes with the definition of a well lived life and our own low levels of confidence when it comes to gauging our own lives. This is where the fear of being denied at the gates of heaven comes across as the fear of death itself. We start to question the basic known facts like the inevitability of death. We act foolish and present ourselves and our loved ones with a painful passage from this world.

This is where celebrating the gift called life comes into picture. If one can accept the fact that death is inevitable and celebrate every moment given in the form of life, then the closing ceremony of life could be a grand celebration. It is like our infamous CWG. There were many uncertainties leading to CGW, many questions raised if it would even take off, yet the games had a grand opening ceremony , very synonymous with the uncertainty and complications that can lead to ones birth and then the wide spread celebrations of the birth. The games went on with its share of successes, failures, blunders, controversies, and foreseen investigations and court cases, but still the moments of success and joy that the games brought was given a fitting grand closing ceremony. Same goes for us humans. All we can do is to try and live our lives to the fullest. There many be aspects of our life that are not in our hand, we may have made blunders under the impression that we are living life to the fullest, and failed in our lives but there would those moments of small successes, small victories, smiles and joys that life has given us which deserves a grand closing ceremony. A Death that is devoid of fear, devoid of dissatisfaction, devoid of sorrow and frustration, a death which celebrates the good things about the life one has lived.

A funeral ceremony with drums, fireworks, song and dance might not appeal to our basic sensibilities but what it brings out is the plain and simple fact that death is a celebration of life, a celebration of all that life has given and a celebration of a zillion moments. Looking at death in this perspective some how tends to justify the expression of joy and exuberance while facing death.

How my passport lost its Virginity

“So you are going to Dubai”

“Yes sir”

“What is the purpose of your visit” (now that reminded me of all the English movies I have seen . Where the immigration officer asks the bad guy “What is the purpose of your visit , Business or pleasure” and he says “Pleasure”)

But then I thought pleasure would be too much of an answer for the Indian immigration grey haired uncle ..... so I said visiting friends and family. Now I don't know why but there was this pause between friends and family. Like I was thinking , or trying to cover something up (“Lie To Me” seems to be getting to me)

“So when are you coming back”

“7^th November sir”

Mr. Grey haired immigration officer somehow felt I was hiding something . So he asked with a doubting look “Visiting friends or going to look for a job”

I have no idea which expression on my face gave away my hidden wish to find another job but then he over exaggerated my wish by saying I was going to look for a job in Dubai.

So I said with a smiling face as if I am saying the most matter of fact thing “No sir nothing like that”

Next question he asks is how much do u earn . I had half the mind to tell him sir I am already married so no point in gauging me to get married to ur daughter... I swear man nice job to gauge prospective grooms ... how much do u earn , wonderful question... neways he was the boss so I gave him the answer ...

Next question “Where do u work” .... I said Hexaware... and then something unusual happened, something that very rarely happens to me ... he said ... hold your breath (Cymbals playing in the back ground)........ he said (rolling snare drum) “Yes I have heard of that company” I felt like jumping over the desk and giving him a hug and thanking him... he knew the name of my company and recognized it ... I mean how many of you knew it before I started working there :) ....

Then he hits me with another shot and snaps me out of the seventh heaven I had reached.... so are you getting a better salary in Dubai ... I am now getting pissed and still putting up a smiling face and telling him “No sir I am not going there to get a job”

“No its ok , u can tell me , its good to look for growth in life, thats what we all should do" .. Oh yes that piece of sweet enlightening words and I will just fall on my knees and tell him sorry sir but I am going there to look for a job ... if he is so good I guess they should put him at the security check and not immigration .... he would be such a great asset ..... “Are you carrying any arms or explosives today sir? You can tell me if you are , its ok we all are frustrated in life , but things can be sorted out” … goodness , he was just getting to my nerves with his “Job in Dubai” thing... man whenever I am going there for a job I will surely come to ur counter and do a full confession to you before I leave ... but then yet again I had to put up my smiling face and say “No sir I am not going there for a job”

Then he hit me with a shot that my whole group has been hitting me for ages.... he commented about the virginity of my passport ... I have been getting this for years... first it was the fact that I did not have a passport , so I got fed up and got one.. then days became months and months became years but my passport never came out of the drawer I had put it into ... it remained a virgin for over 2 years .. that became the topic of discussion later... Sajan's passport is virgin ... to a point where it got to my nerves and my gang knew that u never mention the virginity of Sajan's passport... ever..

Mr. Grey haired immigration officer had to do it one last time before taking away my passport's virginity for ever..... this was the last supper , the calm before the storm, the final nail in the coffin .... he scans through my passport “Traveling first time?” ... I gave him a “May you Burn in Hell” look and said “Yes” ..... he said “Ok , have a nice journey” and stamped my passport .... there.. thats how my passport lost its virginity .... Mr. Greyhaired Immigration Officer took it away ....

How could God have gone so wrong?

Promises of delivering from the evil
Striking down with vengeance on the devil
Let there be light He said, I see darkness crawl
How could God have gone so wrong?

In the beginning He messed it up with brothers
Now the hatred has spread to father and mother
They say He made man and women to be one
Now watches as families after families burn

Pray and you can move mountains in your way
Belief in Him can perform wonders they say
All this and I still can't achieve a damn
Hell, I can't even get out of a traffic jam

They say He gave us life and only He can take it away
Some kid with a messed up mind, blows it up one fine day
Good always wins on evil, I have heard in fairy tales
By the looks of it, it seems that only evil will prevail

Promises of delivering from the evil
Striking down with vengeance on the devil
Let there be light He said, I see darkness crawl
How could God have gone so wrong?

Why would they have cared for me

I look out and all I can see is clouds, no more trees and flowing rivers. I used to listen to birds sing and now I can hear the songs of Gabriel and Raphael. Paradise it might be, yes paradise it is. I look down and I can see the greens where my Mumtaz prowls alone. The human clan called it a reserved forest, a sanctuary for my family and kin. How was I to know that it was a place for them to gather us all as targets for their sport of death? If only I knew I would have taken Mumtaz and gone to the hills far away from this merciless clan.

I was walking by the river with Mumtaz at my side, looking at the moon and stars in the sky. The night was so beautiful and the cold breeze had a fragrance of the flowers nearby. I thought I will tell her my feelings tonight; I had fallen in love with her and wanted to spend my life with her. Her beauty I can't start to describe, her color was so full, and her touch was so warm. She walked with a grace that she would make the whole clan turn its heads. She had told me she liked being with me and I made her feel safe. Was it some kind of a sign for me? Did she feel the same way that I did? I would know now. I looked into her eyes and told her that I loved her. I told her that she takes my breath away and being with her feels like being in heaven. I saw her lips move but I could not hear anything. I felt a pain go through my heart. The stars stopped shining; I couldn't smell the breeze no more and the moon started to go dull. I saw tears in her eyes and they looked like tears of pain. I fell to the ground and gave the green grass a red stain. My spirit was leaving and Mumtaz was not safe. I begged her to leave me and hide in the bushes. She saw me die a slow death and the last sight I saw was the tears in her eyes. Did she love me, will she miss me? I would never know. The dreams I saw of a life with her all went up in smoke. I still had some life in me when my killers came looking for their prize. They dragged me along the ground and threw me into the back of a truck. I used to be the brave and powerful. Mumtaz felt safe with me and here I was helpless and weak. Insulted and humiliated as I crawl towards my death. She saw me being taken away and followed the truck to save me. Little did she know that I was already on my way to paradise. They pulled my body out and gave it to someone called "The Artist". The art he specialized in was pulling the skin off my body and making floor mats out of it. As Mumtaz saw, he pulled my skin off. She loved to cuddle up in my arms and feel the heat of my body. She loved the feel of my fur and my soft hair. The Artist stripped me off my skin and threw my flesh and bones aside. They would sell it all not even a strand of hair as memory for Mumtaz. She could not take it any longer and ran away. I saw her weep by the river as I flew up to the sky.

What did I do to you that I die such a death? I could have spent a life time with Mumtaz and now in paradise I rest. You teach your kids that Sher Khan was a villain. You tell them he hates your clan. I never raged a war against you, then for this hatred who should be blamed. Nature made me for the kill but I don't kill for greed. I live by the laws of the jungle and have a life like your clan. I look down again on your clan below and I see a stunning scene. You kill your own for money, power or plain pleasure. And I realize the impossibility of the situation. A clan that can't take care of its own brothers, why would they have cared for me? So here I am, Sher Khan waiting in paradise for Mumtaz who might come soon. I will wait for the day your eyes fall on her, so that I can listen to her answer and live with her in heaven. Sher Khan the king of Jungle, I wait in paradise to live again.