So, it's that lazy Sunday morning when some part of you always compels you to hit the bed , no matter what time it is. I see mom and dad wondering at the audacity of their son to sleep so much on a bright sunny morning. They exclaim with a sigh of relief : " Accha hua medical mein nahi gaye. With this level of carelessness you couldn't have managed to clear the first prof." Instantly , I reply with an innocent glee on my face: " Achha hua aap engineer nahi bane.You guys just aren't cool enough ."
That sparks off my mom like a match stick would spark kitchen stove. I mean her agony is ignited for sure , but it's well within manageable limits . So, after a brief spell of her " I-must-have-committed-some-
Half unaware of all the activity around me , I somehow , manage to reach for my slippers , and all this while I'm still rubbing my eyes to get a hang of the bright sunlight. In this state of sullen irritation , suddenly, a guitar chord strikes my audible sense, the kind that makes your ears stand up in apprehension.
The sound is so soft , that I'm almost expelled to introspect whether at all it's an exogenous prick or a supernatural string grizzling inside me. I wait for a while . The confusion had not even ended , when the melody changed its course , it moved to a higher note.
The sounds overlapped in emphatic fashion. The merger seemed as transparent as a sugar solution : one could look through the texture and say there's something in it , but that something is literally indecipherable, and so were the overlapping chords.
As I was through with the first part of the melody , the aroma of the song , only seemed to have started spreading more obtrusively with the second. The lyrics started pouring in like a lava of hot chocolate on chilled vanilla ice-cream ; so hot yet so tempting.
Almost statuesque , with an expression of somebody caught in a cyclone, I listened to the song with closed eyes. All this while my mother kept staring at my stance , assuming it to be some sort of yoga .
Sometimes , I wonder , how a mix of bullish frequencies can be potent enough to give you a thrust beyond recognition. A song that gives you that adrenaline rush , a rush so stingy , that it makes the boldest of beauties feel ashamed of their own incapacitativeness (and I know this is really not a word) to induce such a sting in men. The kind of song, to which when I listen , I adorn , more unconsciously, that strictly native haryaanvi accent ( the one that I strive to hide so much), and tell every controversy on its face : " Aan De , aaj to baawda ho rakha hoon ! " ( it means " Let it come, I'm insane today." )
Overtime, I've come to call this class of songs : The Eureka Songs.
On the jukebox : Tum Bhi Chalo, Hum Bhi Chalein (Zameer) by Kishore Kumar.
That sparks off my mom like a match stick would spark kitchen stove. I mean her agony is ignited for sure , but it's well within manageable limits . So, after a brief spell of her " I-must-have-committed-some-
Half unaware of all the activity around me , I somehow , manage to reach for my slippers , and all this while I'm still rubbing my eyes to get a hang of the bright sunlight. In this state of sullen irritation , suddenly, a guitar chord strikes my audible sense, the kind that makes your ears stand up in apprehension.
The sound is so soft , that I'm almost expelled to introspect whether at all it's an exogenous prick or a supernatural string grizzling inside me. I wait for a while . The confusion had not even ended , when the melody changed its course , it moved to a higher note.
The sounds overlapped in emphatic fashion. The merger seemed as transparent as a sugar solution : one could look through the texture and say there's something in it , but that something is literally indecipherable, and so were the overlapping chords.
As I was through with the first part of the melody , the aroma of the song , only seemed to have started spreading more obtrusively with the second. The lyrics started pouring in like a lava of hot chocolate on chilled vanilla ice-cream ; so hot yet so tempting.
Almost statuesque , with an expression of somebody caught in a cyclone, I listened to the song with closed eyes. All this while my mother kept staring at my stance , assuming it to be some sort of yoga .
Sometimes , I wonder , how a mix of bullish frequencies can be potent enough to give you a thrust beyond recognition. A song that gives you that adrenaline rush , a rush so stingy , that it makes the boldest of beauties feel ashamed of their own incapacitativeness (and I know this is really not a word) to induce such a sting in men. The kind of song, to which when I listen , I adorn , more unconsciously, that strictly native haryaanvi accent ( the one that I strive to hide so much), and tell every controversy on its face : " Aan De , aaj to baawda ho rakha hoon ! " ( it means " Let it come, I'm insane today." )
Overtime, I've come to call this class of songs : The Eureka Songs.
On the jukebox : Tum Bhi Chalo, Hum Bhi Chalein (Zameer) by Kishore Kumar.
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