Latcho Drom - A Review.

Many a times, rather – always, we see a movie with a walking antagonist, struggling and conflicting in some or the other way. I have seen quite a few movies, portraying a different character always. Some of them are great fighters, some suffering from an OCD, some even in form of souls – dead and dreaming both, but today it was a different encounter.

Latcho Drom- took me into a new world, full of timed, rhythmic and progressive beats. Today, I encountered yet another differently styled protagonist, no, not gypsies, nor human civilizations. Yes, all the living beings in the movie play an amazing role of supporting the lead character- more of a “side-kick” – but the “hero”, the protagonist of this movie was, undoubtedly, Music. All the while I had heard about this film being about life of gypsies.

It is said, it’s about Gypsies travelling all around the world, from deserts of Rajasthan, to borders of Egypt, from fields of Istanbul to Romania, following it into Hungary, Slovakia, France and Spain. Agreed.

The film captures life of often-neglected gypsies, who travel, across land and water, living their life with new cultures, infusing same with their own, picking up some from there, and moving forward, whenever needed or desired. They have been more than often been hated and persecuted by almost every king and kingdom, masses and civilizations. Hitler went after them as industriously as he did with the Jews. Nicolae Ceausescu terrorized them in Romania. Christians castigated them as pagans. The “roshomon” of every country has always been prejudiced, suspicious about them.

Latcho Drom- portrays life of this breed, species – I would like to call them – Reason being they are higher to us. We all feel that they are ignorant about ways of the world, they don’t know rules, or culture, or how to behave in the society, very few would have encountered “worldly pleasures”. However, they have lived in open, breathed every morning fresh air, woken up to the first ray of sunlight, slept under the lullaby of stars, and lived their life – in the language of music and lyrics. They converse with their God, whenever they want, however they want, their beliefs have kept them strong against the entire community which they often come across. People welcome them with guns for a few minutes, only to tell them – to go away- in less respectable way than they would shoo away stray animals with. We see them dancing to the tunes of their own happiness, to the beats of their work, to the tunes of morning light- to the lament of holocaust –to the exiled life that they live. We find them singing the pain in their words, with claps, and pass on a beam to a crying face- via someone as innocent as a child.

That is the reason – why I find Music – to be the lead character of this movie.

I don’t know if it is only me who is reading too much between the lines, or maybe it is my love for music that’s speaking – but I noticed the film talk about life of civilizations woven with music. Film starts with – A child singing, in high scale, a song – greeting the morning time, it follows – with dance and prayer, moves on to another country where civilizations have atleast the shelter above their heads, to shack houses, and so on and so forth – till the time their shelter is snatched away by keepers of society. They are again, homeless- and a mourning lament follows that sings to everyone snuggled under their warm blankets, eating tasty bread and discussing gossip. Isn’t it weird how we find three characters always, A girl waiting to dance – a lady already dancing to the tune of the learned musician – being looked at, in awe by some kid – who aspires to be like him, and above all – a crowd around them – some sharing their life with it, others ,just looking.

Another thing – that struck me about this creation was the way music was produced. Not only, were the music being created by sounds of their daily tools – signifying how their work-life is as similar as their homes, how they find solace and enjoyment in whatever they do,  but also, the beauty in which it was produced – Similar tempo – rising progressions – adding instruments  - joined by vocals – layering it with beautiful Lyrics and sung out to the steps of dancing souls.

All I will say in the end is that – If you weren’t tapping your feet to the rhythms and music in this movie – stop calling yourself a music lover- and, most probably, if you didn’t enjoy this piece of art – Well – Think again, about your future.

Cheers. 

Kafia

एक और गुमराह सी रात थी वो 

खामोश और खिलाफ-इ-मामूल 

ऐसा ही एक दिन भी था, साकी,

आज किया जो कबूल

कुछ इशारे भी मिले थे -

फज्र की खुदमुख्तार रौशनी में 

फिर क्यूँ न समझ पाया मैं

तेरी बातें ओ रसूल

उस मैदानी मोहब्बत में

खुश्क से वादें किये गए वो 

और अब याद भी न  रहे उन्हें

इस तालुक्कात के उसूल

याद, बेगरज से आये थे वो  

सुबह की चांदनी में, बिखरे बिखरे

खो हुए जो दिखे, अपनी आँखों में

जज़्ब कर गए

हम भी गौर ना कर पाए अपनी ग़ज़ल-इ-इश्क पर

और यूँ ही खो बैठे सारी शायरी

शायद कभी इजाजात मिलेगी

तो उन्हें भी तोहफा देंगे

अपने लफ़्ज़ों से,

पिरोये हुए मोतियों का,

पर डरते हैं कहीं वो ये कह न दे

कि "कतार में लगे रहो, 

अगर फुर्सत मिली इन जवाहरातों से

तो शायद इस बेजान मोती को भी छुएंगे"

अपने अक्स को ही जब

मुस्तरद कर दिया तब  

क्यूँ ज़ाहिर करना जरूरी है उनके लिए

हक कि आबो-हवा

आप वो मुखालिफ नहीं जिससे 

वसोख्त की ज़हानत तोहफे में मिली हो

न ही हम वो शायर जो अपनी रदीफ़ भूल जाएँ  

गौर करें हर पैमाने पर,

हर टुकड़े की इनायत पर, 

तखल्लुस है यही छिपा जो

दरख़्त की ज़ुल्फ़ ओड़े चिल्ला रहा 

कि

वो हंसी मोहब्बत की, एक बार लबों पे आजाये

तो अबशार भी मोड़ देंगे हम 

बस एक बार दस्तखत कर दो, हमारे इस सबक पे

तो ये अफसार भी छोड़ देंगे 

-    Akshat “The Reflection” Sharma 

खिलाफ-इ-मामूल-against the practice

 खुदमुख्तार-Arbitrary 

रसूल-Prophet

 तालुक्कात -relation

 बेगरज-Selfless 

मुस्तरद - reject

कतार -queue

 मुखालिफ - Rival

वसोख्त की ज़हानत -Inborn talent towards hatred and disgust

( रदीफ़- Rhyming of the last word 

तखल्लुस- Poetry 

दरख़्त - Tree 

 अबशार - Waterfall  

अफसार - Tribe. 

फनकार

रूह की फरमाईश कुछ ऐसी तलब हो गयी

कि अब्र-आलूद सी रात भी चुंधिया गयी

मौसम-ए-इश्क की नुमाईश चुनिन्दा सी यूँ हो गयी

कि डर गया एक पल को ये क़ल्ब

इक सूनी-सड़क के बाज़ू में

वो अँधा भिकारी कुछ शक्लें बना रहा था

सफ़ेद चूने के पत्थर से,

एक तरफ से वो थोडा थोडा उस मंदिर की मूरत सा लगा

वहीँ दूसरी ओर - इंसान और जानवर का मिला जुला नजराना था

मैं कुछ समझ न पाया,

कुछ आते जाते राहगीरों ने जेब से

बिना देखे, सिक्के दाल दिए

शायद तरस खा रहे थे उसपे

वहीँ थोड़ी ही दूर एक ठेले से

इक बच्ची चूड़ी खरीद रही थी

और ये जनाब उस खन-खन को अपनी

जज्बा बनाये रखे थे

अँधा था वो

थोडा अनजान था वो इन चेहरों से

अन्दर के चेहरे को पढता था वो

बंद-बंद पत्थरनुमा आँखों से

पढ़ लेता था उनकी रूह की असलियत को

फिर भी मुस्कुरा कर उठा लेता उन् सिक्कों को

शायद उनकी इस ख्याली भीख को तस्लीम कर

उन्हें अपनी मुस्कराहट बेच रहा था

अनजान, अजनबी,अकेला

ऐसा फनकार था वो

Akshat "The Reflection" Sharma

इकतारा

It's the price you pay of being an artist. Unlike others, it is tough for you to keep, all you feel, inside - within you. With all the riots, in the name of land, religion etc, is happening - I just felt over-whelmed. and penned down whatever came to my mind.

कुछ अनकही सी,

इक खामोश नदी सी,

रूठी ज़मीं सी

चले जा रही है ज़िन्दगी

कौन है कहाँ?

कब तक वहां?

जाएगा फिर कहाँ ?

यही सोच रहा है

क्यूँ बुझ जाती है रात को

बाती गुलाल की

और झलक - सी दिखला जाती है

वो परछाईयाँ - अंधेरो में भी

कब तलक डरेगा तू?

ओ सवेरा, अब आ भी जा

बंद हो गए कपट,

धरती भी नीलाम हुई,

और तूफानों में भी,

सन्नाटे-सी शाम हुई

राम-अल्लाह- येशु मसीह

सबकी सूरत - निष्प्राण हुई

और यूँही सबके घर में

अनजानों की सभा सम्मान हुई

आते आते, लव्ज भी ठहर जाते

जब ज़ुबान पे,

और किसकिसाती सी झालर

जगमगाती दीवार पे

तब कहीं आँगन से आती

मुस्कराहट अपमान की

यूँ तो सब ही, साथ रहते

हैं यहीं वसुंधरा

पर साथ रखते कुल्हारियां

तलवारों की टोलियाँ

बंदूकें भी है कई

धर्म की - बे-ईमान की

राजदूत हैं कई -

और राजनीति हैं नयी

धर्म की परिभाषा ये

अंड के आकार की

कह दिया उसने जो काफिर,

बात उसकी मान ली

मैं मिला जिससे भी अब तक,

सब कहें हैं इक ही बात

क्यूँ लड़ते फिरे हैं सब यूँ,

हैं जो इसमें किसका हाथ

हम तो चाहे दो ही रोटी,

और थोड़ी बोटियाँ

मिल जाए जो मुफत में,

ओहदे से

हो चाहें कटपुतलियाँ

पैदा करो उतनी ही सांसें

जितनी की तुम संभाल सको

ना कि इतनी किलकारियां

जो समय को हार दो

आज सब है यूँ डरे,

भयभीत सबके हैं दो मन

कि काश अल्लाह या फिर राम

अपने में हो संग्लन

किस चौराहे पर खड़े बेवक़ूफ़ ने था कहा

भगवन ने जन्मा है, बरसो पहले, ये जहां

मसखरे तू देख ले, कि तू कहाँ से आगया

जन्म देने वाली, हंसती माँ को तू ही मार गया

The End

“I’m lying, I am afraid”

Well, in Oliver Stone’s version of THE DOORS these were the words of Jimmy just before song “The End”. One of my dear friends asked me the importance of this song, it’s real meaning, interpretation of lyrics. As the literature and internet search history goes, we find that this was one of Jimmy’s early compositions written when he broke up with his girlfriend.

Well, in a certain way it makes sense.

“This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end”

The song starts off with lines that mark the beginning of an End. Now even though it might have been written for a girl, these lines make perfect sense when put to use with anything. The Oneness given by Jimmy through this song is what makes his poetry special.

“No safety or surprise, the end”

(Shaila-) Here comes a line when (in context of his GF) Jimmy seems to be talking of the intimate times spent together by both of them. An intricate and yet beautiful line depicting the sex they had ( I intentionally avoided any sort of euphemism). Jimmy shares his fear with his ex, that during this entire process the humane soul is most vulnerable, the feelings have all surfaced, and they are locked in each other’s arm, he might lose himself.

“Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some..stranger's hand
In a...desperate land”

Well, I guess with the reference to the context the song might make sense. However what attracts me to the song is more of its metaphorical nature. For me this song is about putting an End to this entire galore of society and its laws shaping human mind. With all literature I have read I understand that a man’s Id is most active when he is a baby, or a kid. As time progresses a combination of civilization, family, laws, dos and don’ts tries to subdue the “id”, and make him more appropriate for the system. Now when we look at the above lines we find a request, a commandment, an appeal to break free of all that is trying to bind the real you.

Why should anyone be afraid of any feelings that feels and emotions he stumbles across? Feelings are good and bad, they are your feelings, why can’t anyone be true to himself and not placate them. Now re-read the lines,

“Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some..stranger's hand
In a...desperate land”

I hope you are getting a hint of what I am trying to say. The entirety of anyone being himself, comes along with the term “Insanity”, “Crazy” and “Weird”, but these are just the terms coined by society again for the things they don’t understand. Imagine a herd of sheep is going south, one of the young ones, just turns around and says, “Hey, I feel like I want to go North, you guys carry on” – any guesses on what the herd would say?

I believe that a big reason why he loved snake was its nature. However, since we are talking in metaphorical sense, it can be compared to all the weird things you have to do to go where you always want to. If you are scared to do it, can you ever do it?

However, interestingly – Jimmy makes a call about the Blue Bus, as far as the historical reference goes, it is just a reference to the public transport that would serve his area in Venice beach. The message indicated by these lines is to catch one and ride to the west. Simply leave everything that you have been bound to and go out on a wild ride.

And well, the last and the most controversial part of the song, gets its reference from the Odepius complex. Again in the metaphorical world – it talks of killing everything you are taught.

It’s the most beautiful poem ever written.

गुफ्तगू (फज्र)

आज की ये शाम,

कुछ खफा-खफा सी लगती है मुझे,

जाने क्यूँ, अनजानी, अनसुनी सी लगती है,

क्यूँ, वो पत्थरों से होने वाली मधिम गुफ्तगू

आज चुपचाप-सी है,

इक सन्नाटा सा है,

जो फुसफुसाता है धीरे- धीरे,

कि "आँखें खोल ले , ए-दोस्त,

और सुन- उस दस्तक को जो खुद-बखुद इशारे से

तुझे बुला रही है"

इक ख़ामोशी का आलम सा छाया हुआ है

इस तरह, कि अपने साथियों के साथ भी

खुल के नहीं हँसता अब दिल,

कभी बीती हुई रातों को,

कभी भूली हुई यादों को,

कभी बिसरी हुई बातों को,

कभी बेजान-से उन वादों को,

गिन-गिन कर, काटता है दिन को,

थोड़ी तस्सल्ली भी देता है

कि "ओ इंसान, अब तू ज्यादा मजबूत है"

फिर - मैं यूँही इठलाता जब थोडा खुश होता,

तो ये सनकी दिल,

और रूखी रूह फिर बोलती,

"अरे, हम तो मज़ाक कर रहे थे"

शायद इन लतीफों कि दरिया में ही

गुम ना हो जाऊं,

पर ये तय है,

कि उस तन्हा बरगद की तरह,

मुस्कुराता रहूँगा

- अक्स

(Image courtesy- Google)

THE INDIAN FUTURISM: THE WAR OF THE POET AFTER DEATH OF GOD (Foreword to GOD IS DEAD - by Azsacra Zarathustra)

Before I publish the foreword, here is a synopsis of GOD IS DEAD, my second book - a collection of 30 poems.

"GOD IS DEAD – based on Nietzsche’s principle (Gott ist Tot), is a collection of Poems by Akshat “The Reflection” Sharma. It talks of this underlying subtle transformation of a man into a beast- of how howls are often too silent to heard- of how a beast is concealed within a human soul. A journey of an endless vigil that often reaches out to eternal continuum of time. It is often desired – to puncture through those hallucinating moments of one’s life that are often referred to as PAST , and to break-free of all Future.

Remember – God is Dead "

Below is the foreword to my second book by renowned philosopher, poet and revolutionary Azsacra Zarathustra.

THE INDIAN FUTURISM:

THE WAR OF THE POET AFTER DEATH OF GOD

[«I might give it a shot!»]

Never,

Nought,

Neglect ,

Negate; Seeds of destruction planted

Like pack of explosives

[Akshat Sharma]

Can the modern Indian poetry contrary to all [directly here and now!] to change inculcated, compelled, false a vector of «a tolerant course» and suddenly aggressively to jump, to strike, to soar, to rise Upwards – in Brahmanical Heavens? Can the Indian poet, like Kshatriya, sacrificially and bravely to rise in real Fighting Spirit and ruthlessly to reject from himself the world of hateful false «economic values», including here coercive, insignificant, monetary a «horizontal humanism» of the British literary usurers? Yes! – it is unconditional! But only under the most severe observance of the Supreme Laws of the maximum Over-Creating Aggression as Will to Power. Through the maximum irrational War of Words!… with the help of Battle of the most explosive Fighting Mantras and the Attacking Conjurations:

It’s hard to free muscles now,

Easier to clinch them;

A fist is forever ready to kaput and bust open,

To turn your flesh, pale

To turn these sands, red.

The Indian poet, like Aghori, should declare Itself precisely: «I am a God!». And this Poet, really, should become Real Fearsome God or [at choice of Death!] his secret Natural Antagonism, perhaps, Sacred addition, the Mysterious Werewolf… the Rabid Wolf («None was worthy of that madness, Yes None!»). Id est for the Indian Poet without Aggression of Hinduism – there is no Masterpiece of God! Therefore young Indian poet Akshat Sharma at once [in his new book «God is Dead»] without fluctuation, severely and fearlessly questions: «Am I cruel?»

Celebrate the death of man ...

A jarred feeling of emptiness ...

Or get up and kill the sisters,

Weaving the threads ...

Each authentic Indian Poet inside himself initially knows: the True Poetry is only the Action of Spiritual Mutiny – strictly strengthening contrary to everything, in own heart, the Vertical Line of Pure and Free Spirit to Break!

For at night, moon mocks,

While sun,

It just helps me burn.

They aid the change.

Differently, for Akshat Sharma the needful quintessence of the poet is the «Transformation of heart into claws», «Eternal stars burn» and clearing «Puke on heaven’s door». On a forehead of the authentic Poet, undoubtedly, there is an ancient and sacred Seal of the Curse, Seal of the Beast, but at the same time without this Bloody Seal any, even very «glorified poet», can't be the True Magical Prophet and/or the Oracle of the New Language.

Walk to caves, while that lion inside runs away,

Timid and aggravated.

Get inside, for you don’t need invitations

To square up your own flesh before it burns.

For each instinctive Poet-Werewolf there is the Eternal Truth: even if God doesn't exist [but He exists!], here is important the concrete physical Death of God in the form of the man and/or an animal – Avatar, but not his truth of the «furtive existence or not-existence». Therefore the Nietzsche’s formula «God is dead» [«Gott ist todt»] there is the most deep point of assemblage of this Poet from capital letter of Curse and Mutiny. From here it will be better, if «my heart… not shelter you» and «I am wearing a mask – forever, even for myself». And is really:

Aren’t you wary of these blank faces?

Harnessing superficial impulses?

Or others, more disturbing questions:

Do you love god? Why?

Do you fear devil? Why?

What makes them different?

All world as before is confused! The world as before is Samsara, the Maya… It, as well as in the Buddha's time, lies just in that deception, where villainous corporations of «false spirit» is hiding the Regal Vertical Line of Light behind the primitive and heavy answers of the «horizontal». The world as before doesn't dare to assume the vertical, ascending Riddle of Death of God, as a basis for the Higher Life of Spirit. To accept the Luxury of Excess of Death and the Triumph of Eternal Struggle – Will to Power! In other words: the world always merely the cowardly brake and lags behind Terrifying Speed of Death of God! Therefore for Akshat Sharma: «All that remains [in the world] is Nothingness», or the optical illusion – «gold delusional!» – for economic fools. Everything that does not Fly up and doesn't aggressively erupt to Up, there is an illusion or the «stupidly-monetary Maya», a conceited «human rubbish heap», but not Poetry.

Will you still be alive,

When the drapery falls?

Forever?

All these pompous «human values» are only nonsensical philistine bosh! A baloney! A trifle! Nonsense! From here inevitably there is a Struggle of each Mutinous Heart against all kinds and the forms of the human lie, which ostensibly forever have gained a foothold, i.e. it is the implacable «conflicting [even!] with conundrum of chaos»:

But, sands shall rise today,

For obliterated meadows shall show

Your way,

Eternally,

To eternity,

If only I’d die, I’d be happy, veiled tenets

Yes. Here Akshat Sharma ruthlessly once, twice, thrice is right: only after «Death of God» naturally are arising the most tragical Ordeals, Battles and Riddles of Pure Spirit and Will to Power. Only these Mutinous Tragical Riddles is the Proud Light and the Sign of Liberation for the Übermensh. «I search myself» and therefore me interests only William Blake's the Triumph of «The Marriage of Heaven and Hell», as well as Merge of the Earth and Heavens without cowardice of paradise, hope and rescue. Beyond of Good and Evil! Only one the pure and dynamic question of movement of Mutinous Force is remaining important for the Poet-Beast:

For how long will you run, o beast?

For how long will you tear your own flesh?

For how long will you search your prey?

«Forever, Never. I can't tell you...» – only so the Sacred Poetic Beast answers and continues to run further… Continues to run further in spite of the fact that there is NO PLACE to run already and in front only the TRAPS are waiting him. Yet: «Will you believe that pain in my nerves while I answer that hypnotic test?»… what the test-text? The hypnotic Text of Death of God!

Why do they consider us separate?

When without one, other won’t exist;

Are these thoughts mine?

Or is it you fiddling with my mind?

Can you control me?

Are you my master? Do everything I do is on your command?

Exactly so! The brave Death of God is always better, than shameful and slavish «life hypnosis» of the «one-dimensional man». The Evil Wisdom of the Wolf as Death of God is always better than any «kind lie» and «eternal, too all eternal» Mankind Preservation.

I want to enter the church of all wolves,

Taste the drops of that holy water dripping,

From bowls of baptism;

Witnessing flights of flying lions,

While they roar and

Drop dead – still alive.

Therefore, when Akshat Sharma does the poetic signature: «Yours, Only yours, Mortal Man», he use cunning here, because the Akshat-Wolf knows that he is more Beast, than the man. He – the Holy Wolf, Which beyond of God and the man, but always on the side of all the brothers wolves: «With their paws making way through shattered and broken glass»… The Truth of Poetry Doesn't tell lies as a man, but lies as dead God, which suddenly, being fascinated his Own Absolute Emptiness, ceases, at last, as a «divine milksop» to jabber away and concoct the paradisiacal cock-and-bull story's about the himself obligatory and instructive Resurrection. To hell! Dash you! Because for True Poetry is much more important «Slithering snakes, flying eagles...», but Not own [essentially] «god».

Boils of fury would have been enough

But the burn of existentialism is far worse

Than ashes of death ...

Or:

Insomnia,

Haunting Birds

Beasts don’t sleep at night;

They wander,

Reflect your judgment,

Not all who wander are lost, they have lost.

Id est for the Akshat-Wolf Great Harmony yet is possible, but this Great Harmony is a merge of the Beast and Light, Heavens and Lightning Flash! This Harmony is possible only in the presence of the one Terrifying and Ruthless Order:

CELEBRATE THE DEATH OF MAN!

They call me brutal;

I growl;

And so I can say I live.

मैं,

मै, तो सिर्फ एक मुलाजिम हूँ

नाम चाहे जो भी दो

Poetic «blasphemy» of Akshat Sharma – it is his real, but concealed and revenging «I» of Holy Wolf, and simultaneously, am there is an «sly cover-up» for Covert Revenge of The one Who isn't known even for Akshat-Wolf: «Often your own questions / Answer, long unsolved riddle»… And consequently: «Your god never believed his god». Because this «God is dead!» And all around – only «Flowers of his fray». From here are originating the Secret of Hatred at Poet to the «poetry» and its false «good»:

Befriend the wars,

Befriend the grave-digger

Befriend the bullet to bless your temple and serve blasphemies to daggers and acronyms

Befriend the tear-drops and oceans

Befriend the holy unification

Befriend the abyss and heavens

Befriend earth and birds, dogs and wolves

Befriend the needle-woman and her meadows

Befriend the bushes and fields

Befriend …….

To whom? To whom «Befriend» in the first and last out of the queue? – To Dead God!! Because «It’s all in a cryptic script» – vigorously and confidently tells poet-futurist Akshat Sharma: «I might give it a shot!»… What for? So as to realize only One: «Am I cruel?». But you…

You can float within and

Above.

Text-manifesto by Azsacra Zarathustra,

Editorial Advisor for the journal

«Harvests of New Millennium»

[India]

The New Religion

Before i write let me tell u that this note is a result of two events in my life .... where one is like a sum of many small ones .. while other is absolute and brief .... 

 

1st event - my life

2nd event - a note by a friend couple of days back

 

we all have some or the religion don't we ???

i m a hindu... u might be a muslim .. sikh ,jain , christian ......

all have a different sets of believe ....

 

lets move on to a bigger look cuz i knw that ppl who are eligible and able to read this note don't think so (though this is an assumption , yet i feel a very strong one )

 

lets talk of our country ....

shiv sena fighting someone or the other .... riots in town ... not far back my town had one

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eueMUWmwg5w

 

all i feel saying over here is m done with talks of religion ... their preachings ... give me an answer

WHAT IS RELIGION ????

 

As copied from wikipedia " A religion is a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a supernatural agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs. "

 

lets divide it ....

1) set of beliefs - do we have left any ??? yea we do pray chant hymns ... go to our respective worship places .... come back and indulge again in same activities that are supposedly prohibited ... and next morning .... go to that stone idol ... " pardon me for my mistake ....and give me more " ... huh

 

 

2)cause ,nature and purpose of universe -

hmmmmm lets talk of "global warming ... and have union and club meetings ... but yea ... " HEY ,SWITCH ON THE AC ITS SOOOOO HOT " ... thanks

oh yea god created us for good .... bla bla bla ...

Mr xyz .... wat happened to ur plot in that sector 34 of abc colony ??

Mr efg .... ah yea they ll be cutting down those trees to extend my share .. but yea i ll get a garden in front of me .... ( inside - i dnt care if its synthetic grass )

 

3)devotional and ritual observances - Mr x - on the phone while going to his office in his car - oh yea thats true i am totally devoted to it ... i granted some 2 lacks for building of that bla bla .....

 

suddenly while waiting for the signal - a poor lad is trying to sell a small commodity say , some flower or stuff ....

" hey shove him out ..close the windows ... jaane saale kahan kahan se aajaate hain desh ko barbaad karne huh " .....

" haan toh main yeh keh raha tha ... ki maine ......." and it goes on .

 

4) often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs. - well this line is good enough in itself ....

 

,my purpose isnt here to change the definition in wikipedia or change beliefs in ur minds ... cuz i know that wat u believe is wat u believe .. if m able to change it , u never believed so ...

 

**********this was almost one percent about the first event **************

 

second event .....

 

it was a note by one of my friend ---- vishal kr ----- titled as

 

We love u n thank you for everything - METAL ( the ultimate genre of music )

 

.....

now ppl might think that wither m talking crap or m high .... but no m neither ...

anyways i dnt even care wtf u think abt this .. but watever this guy wrote is truth .... one hundred percent of it ....

 

wen i read it .. i looked back.... and now ( all those who dnt like music shudn't read forward )

 

i realize that i am one of him or anyone of us is .... lets not initially talk of metal ...

let me ask

1) wat do u generally do wen u r all alone with none to talk to and feel like having a company .. ??

2) wat do u do sitting on a railway bench ??

3) what do u do wen u have a power cut and we are pacing on terrace with cool breeze easing us ??

 

i listen to music ....

u ????

 

then i went through this definition ..

A religion is a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a supernatural agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.

 

me and all my metalhead brothers will agree ....

METAL IS ONE RELIGION FOR US .....

WE BELIEVE IN IT .... WE KNOW THE CAUSE , NATURE , PURPOSE , WATEVER BE THE WORD BUT WE BELIEVE IN IT BLINDFOLDEDLY ...

SEE ANYWHERE IF A GUY WEARING BLACK WITH LONG HAIR , EARPHONES PLUGGED IN ... IS WALKING DOWN THE ROAD HE DOESN'T GIVES A SHIT ABOUT WHAT A CHAP CROSSING HIM THINKS OF HIM .... CUZ HE IS A FUCKING METALHEAD

 

i m at peace ...

m i ??

no most of us aren't ... but wen we hear that pentatonic scale ... or the screams or growl .... or the pam pam bam ... heavy bass lines .... (for eg .WRATHCHILD ) OR even better FUCKING HEAVY DOUBLE BASS all we do is listen more ... go deep in that ocean .. higher in that trance ...

we dnt care whether god is up watching us ... or if satan is down being happy ...

 

all we care is that inexpressable feeling .. often conveyed by our goosebumps ... all we do is listen more ..

i walk in my college ... people at times stare at me for my long hair .. careless dress sense .. bla bla ..well fuck u

i went to this concert AMON AMARTH viking gods .. and yea gods .. for us atleast .. dont care abt u !!

and there i was at home ... i felt " man why do i have such short hair ?? " .... we never asked wats ur name ... first we ask ... wat bands do u listen to ... if its same cngrats ... if nt then the talk starts ... " man listen this ..... " "man check this band out .... " " its a crazy shit " .....

 

we know our gods very well .... we see them now and then ... up on the stage ... no don't confuse ...

its NOT the one with long hair or beer in his hand or the one shouting muthatruckers or fuck u .... no

look closely ... its them .. shouting his heart out ... screeming his guts .. playing that note ... hitting that bass ....

imagine seeing ur god bringing his creation to life ...

imagine seeing them playing wat we worship !!

METAL IS THE NEW RELIGION .... AND PROBABLY WE GOT MORE NO OF GODS THEN ANY OTHER RELIGION DOES .... AND WE GOT MOST NO OF DEVOTEES SPREAD ACROSS THE GLOBE ...

 

hail metal \,,/ forever