Euphoria

I had waited a long time for this. It came and is now embedded as a memory, not merely a memory of what it was, but a memory of how it felt. No, it's not sex you over-assuming perverts. It was just a concert. I knew every song and almost every word. Inhibitions withdrawn, I transcended into this swoon of satisfaction, and let go. Almost voiceless and tired after, not to mention deflowered, I finally understood what I could only see on Ali's face at the Iron Maiden concert in March of 2007. It's this weird feeling of how everything makes sense, and everything is so right. I almost can't believe the power of music at times, and the power that live music unfurls is only amplified.

I thank Tarryn for taking me to Houston and back. matchbox twenty rocked the kasbah, or rather the Toyota Center, and I don't care how anyone else feels or felt about it, but I feel and felt bloody great. I guess I needed the release to some extent. I was having a crappy day thanks to the over-paranoid nature that I sometimes seem to illicit within me, but MB20 sorted all that out. Michael Buble, a night earlier, was brilliant too. His concert was more chilled though, in contrast to the energetic, heart-stomping matchboxers. 2 kick-ass concerts in 2 days - I like very much so, lots of.

ICA (& ISA) is bringing Penn Masala's booties down to UT and that should also be fairly entertaining. A Capella is fascinating, eh? Ever heard of "vocal play"? Naturally 7, who opened for Michael Buble, are "vocal players". Ali, you should have heard how one of the dudes belted out a distorted guitar solo. It was unfriggin' believable. I'll post videos on FB soon.

Talking about ICA, a bunch of the ICA committee just pulled an all-nighter to put together the "Swing-Out Application", in our quest to capture the unprecedented-ly glorious award of "Most Outstanding Organization". I was, as usual, making a video - turned out decent enough.

In other self-obsessed news, I and Jason and Tarryn have Bon Jovi to look forward to this April. Ali will probably automatically, emotionally and mentally, message the brain-centers of the world how brilliant a Bon Jovi experience can be - it's a pity how some arrogant, insecure guys frame them as "gay". That's either defensive pessimism or downright superficial. Go die on a prayer, losers.

P.S. 19 feels the same as 18. Birthdays are over-rated.

Fadoslessness

The futility of futility is so futile. I did nothing of great consequence today. That basically means that today, I did no studying. Two important midterms are coming up this Tuesday and I have done absolutely nothing to prepare for the either of them. My bad, all my bad…

I thought Fado’s, this Irish pub on 5^th street, screwed me over by over-charging my debit card. WelI, I thought wrong, and ended up wasting a whopping two hours traveling to and fro from Fados, thanks to a bus detour, only to later find out that they really hadn’t overcharged my debit card. Apologies Fado’s, but WTF Anish?

Ooh, I am going to be shaking my booty for Jashan ’08 this year to some Bollywood rhythm! I am weirdly excited because it’s been forever since I dhin-chakd (danced) on stage. It kinda brings back those young frivolous days but, at the same time, allows you to be mature enough to not get over-conscious about yourself. Essentially, it’s all for the fun of it. And when something this fun can uphold ICA's solemn goal of pervading Indian culture through the roots of the UT campus, then why not go with the flow?

I am going to now print some study material for tomorrow and hit the bed. Screw the studying. If you do something, do it to the best of your ability. I am currently procrastinating, so I will do it to the best of my ability.

P.S. Peace and have a great week.

Satanic Pointlessness

We partied last night. I’d have liked to say we partied hard, but we really didn’t. It was one of those Valentine ’s Day parties – a “red light” party to be precise. No, it has not got anything to do with prostitution you over-assuming perverts. What the “red light” basically refers to is that when you enter, you get a colored neck-glow-band according to your current “relationship status” – red to stay wed (i.e. those taken), green for those who are single and ready to mingle, and yellow to stay mellow (i.e. stay neutral). Super cool, eh? Yeah, right. What they should have also had was pink to wink and blue to screw – would have made the night way more interesting.

Club parties are getting boring. I don’t drink because self-intoxication is pointless, so that basically means that I have to look for un-intoxicating ways to get “happy”. I enjoy dancing, but a crappy DJ doesn’t help with that. What really gets to me about these club parties is the sexual tension that floats in the air. Everyone is checking everyone out in the most sexual of ways. That’s fine I guess, but annoying thing #1 is that a lot of things are assumed. If you ask a girl for a dance, they almost all assume that you are shouting out, “Hey, can I get into your pants?” This might be true for some horny guys, but sometimes, a dance is just a dance. If it does proceed to the pants, good for you, because you very well know that you (and your lovely friends) will not let yourself get into the wrong pants. Annoying thing #2: People hate it when someone who they find unattractive harmlessly flirts with them – it’s “weird”. But, if a sexy SOB comes along knocking on the vaginal door, it’s obviously no longer “weird”. Get over yourself you arrogant self obsessed maniacs! Instead, be flattered by the attention that you get, however “ugly” the source seems to be.

Frat house parties are worse, at least through my lens - taboo alcohol flowing like the “Ganges” (Ganga!), sexual tension blowing like the Westerlies and dancing opportunities only as flexible as the first-stage bicentennial man, does not help. Also, being surrounded by drunken people is funny only to a particular extent. At least dancing at clubs with unassuming, decent girls to decent music is a decent amount of fun; but house parties for the un-intoxicated is only a live, monotonously boring, visual encyclopedia of young people.

We, as in Jason and I, had an early morning today. We walked down to Fados, this Irish pub on 5^th street, at 9 in the morning to watch the Satan’s Children – Arsenal game. Arsenal played miserably and Eboue is going to hell. But the Satan’s Children victory was pretty pointless as it seemed that Arsenal were not in any mood to play football or “soccer”. I have the same views as this guy, so let this guy bore/entertain you.

P.S. We (ICA/ISA) are bringing down Penn Masala to UT. Woot woot! I need to make a flier/hand-bill for their show.

Limp

House is one hell of a television series. The script is, quite simply, breath-taking. So breath-taking, that it literally takes your breath away, and then stuffs it down your lungs with the gustiest of gusts. To add to the breath-taking-ness, Hugh Laurie plays the character of House like a dream. Gregory House is fascinating – messed up in sorts, but principled when it matters, i.e. good. He is bloody brilliant in bestowing his brilliant bedical bisdom on beople. The Vicodin addiction does not take away anything from the brilliant doctor that he is.

Dad, you need to watch this show. Go to Carrefour or Virgin and buy the 1^st season DVDs of “House.” Yes, people do say that there are some dodgy medical facts that the writers do concoct, but that doesn’t really affect the purpose of the show. Being a doctor, you will really enjoy it.

For some bizarre reason, a couple of days ago, on the 13^th of February, a day when I did not blog, my blog got a whopping 200+ hits. Why? Brilliantly stupid, I say.

For all Arsenal fans that do happen to bounce onto this blog, let us bow down and worship the brilliance of Mr Wenger, let us treasure our current 5-point league over Satan’s children and let us pray that we kick Satan’s children’s rears tomorrow. What you also need to do is start reading www.arseblog.com – the all time greatest Arsenal blog. You should also go see the grand old Adebayor rant away about his brilliant form.

P.S. Ali, where art thou?

7-4

I just saw American Beauty. Heavy stuff. It starts of slow, but picks up like a friggin’ Ferrari as it progresses. The whole “don’t-give-a-shit” attitude that Spacey eventually adopts is fascinating, and seriously, why the hell do we care so much about our friggin’ image? Get you principles sorted out and be good when it matters – things become a lot less dramatic and complicated then. On the other hand, people with the loveliest images can be as bad as Hitler and Satan combined. They appear to be as sweet as peaches when you meet them, but when it comes down to what matters, they mess up like how global warming is kicking our rears right now. And the weird thing is, just like our rears, they also don’t really care that they are being such hypocritical, superficial maniacs. Yes, if you think this superficial maniac is you, then it probably is, don’t doubt it, rectify it, you superficial selfish snob. It’s insane how unfeeling you can be at times. Don’t you get it? People are not stupid. They know you have issues – the only reason they stand by you is because they don’t have anyone else to stand by or fall back on. Another reason could be that you’re attractive, and your “friends” have raging hormones. Or, they might have pity on thou sorry self. We need each other, and as everyone is not great, we have to suffice with what we can get hold of. But hey you, good luck finding real, true friends.

If you are not one of these “superficial maniacs” then it’s a good thing. I am glad you have that edge over others to actually care a little for someone else rather than yourself. Everyone is selfish, and that’s our wretched nature; but show a little love and you’ll get a little love. Be genuine when it matters. Then, listen to Bob Marley, and get high on life.

The weather in Austin is weird. It keeps fluctuating like a singer who can’t sing – when the weather hits those flat notes, it is totally ridiculous, but then there are those random sublime notes that makes it a lot more tolerable.

University is “rocking”. I am in control of my classes and I am enjoying the independence. IM soccer is fun, but ICA is just taking up too much time. It’s good we do a lot, but we need to know when to draw the line. “Live and learn”, eh?

Jason, you're ultra cool. Never hoes before bros, I apologize.

My nose is running like Marion Jones with steroids, and is annoying the tissues out of me. Head's a little heavy - don't want to fall sick.

I am bored of blogging like any other random person about minor, uninteresting, forced issues. I hate the formality that seems to be pervasive in the previous posts and I hate the unnecessary stress I am taking over it. My blog=my way. Change is good if you make it to be, just like life.

P.S. Ridicule away you cynics, stop judging things that do not need to be judged. Feel the love generation foooo!