The usual end of day upswing with the creative juices overflowing onto my keyboard….A combination of good reading, a crazy workout regimen and some musical garnishing from across the world sets the tone for the most beautiful slumber that seldom happens, so I type instead.
The 9 dedicated hours bartered for better bread and the above average attention span that compulsively notices more than the obvious, are the other, less eventful, daily bits in the life of this inchoate polymath. Far away from the ostentatious big city lights, the heavenly Himalayas offer a conducive platform to galvanize me to what I am really capable of being.
With knowledge feeding the mind, exercise and proper nutrition feeding the body and a mix of family, the surrounding sanctity and music feeding the soul, the decision to come back home has done justice to life’s essential triad. Initially, I resented how the lack of opportunities in this town was impeding my gregarious nature, but it took time to recognize the underlying benefits. The serenity of this place gradually disseminates into peoples identities, providing their garrulous and erratic personalities with a much needed solidarity. I was lucky to have gotten through my initial resentment to reap the fruits of my patience.
It’s close to midnight
Something evil’s lurkin’in the dark
Under the moonlight
You see a sight that almost stops your heart
You try to scream
But terror takes the sound before you make it
You start to freeze
As horror looks you right between the eyes
‘Cause this is thriller
Thriller at night
And no one’s gonna save you
From the beast about to strike
You know it’s thriller
Thriller at night
You’re fighting for your life
Inside a killer
Thriller tonight, yeah
These lines might be the sub conscious reason behind my insomnia. Anyhow they are salutary nonetheless, as typing is better than snoring any given day. The dedicated 9 hours beckon, compels me to sing a lullaby to the anti slumber devils and sleep after they do. More on universal edification, why Indian politicians are digging deep mining for gold cause a sage dint dream about Gold in a crocodile pit and why Kanye had to hire a stadium to propose Kim, when I make this a perfunctory practice.
As life finally manifests itself into a more sense making scheme of events, I get an opportunity to be grateful for the utter normality in my life. The balance which everyone craves subliminally has taken its time to make its enchanting presence felt. The gift of moderation that I am bestowed with divulged itself seeing me replace my ‘dementedly dominant and dominantly demented’ way of being by a more responsible research-oriented-pilgrim approach towards life. An amazing equilibrium of mind body and soul is a result of sacrificing the big city flash by the small town serenity.
My subliminal prowess aids me in exposing the lunatics of the music industry who hoodwink feeble minds into giving impetus to their empty art.
Although Sex Sells..Hideousness dispels…
As we read more we learn more , as we learn more we notice more, as we notice more our brain starts itching with interrogations.
The not so recent MTV VMA awards presented a fitting example of the wave of imbalance that is debauching our generation. The gift of expression was meant to embellish the spirit of life rather than pushing the already distraught cohort beyond the tipping point. The depiction of talent has taken such a bewildering form that it takes away from the actual talent than adding to it. More than half the performances were pure bliss to the audible receptors. The perfect rhythm and melody tarnished by the acts. It made me wonder. Are these artists actually worthy of the Demi God status that they are bestowed with? And are they doing justice to their fans? I believe that conveying good messages with such abominable performances is worse than not conveying messages at all.
For the artists, I understand denting the universe is essential, but they are so consumed by this conception that they are willing to sacrifice billions of people by misguiding them. They have to realise the concept of responsible influence. Aiming and corrupting minds in the camouflage of fun and entertainment appears to be the order of the world.
We are born with choices, but it’s easier to get influenced when an entire community roots for retards among them. I have seen many a vivid pictures in my life, but never have I witnessed famous people (with millions of fans) appreciating utter lunacy from other artists. Standing ovations symbolised honour for soldiers returning from battle in Rome, now anyone who can act like a Lizard on stage is considered worthy of one. Some of them would actually be eligible to compete for top awards at asylums and rehabilitation centres.
Sometimes I feel that some of these artists are compelled to project such ludicrous images. But doesn’t the power of influence come combined with a responsibility? Shouldn’t they actually care more? Leave a comment if you agree to disagree?