Unbridled

What you're about to read is an unplugged account of longing, a little bit of hurt, a shameless idiot, a steadfast woman, and hope. All of what lies ahead spawns from the fear that the following words might never see the light of day. Anyway.

Gorgeous woman, 

How happy I feel when I talk to you, I cannot put it into words. I cluelessly throw jabs at starting a conversation with you. and you being a cultured soul, respond wearing a smile on your face. Here I am, wishing that some part of the chat struck a chord with you, my brain being fully aware that none of it did. Yet, the heart doesn't agree, and digs for every topic that should, could and would elicit a response from you. I know, it's called 'lying to myself' when I think that you chatting back is a sign of your agreement.

I'm also lying to myself when I discuss the Led Zeppelins, Welshly Arms, the Radioheads, the Myles Kennedies, the Brian Johnsons and the Amy Adams of the world with you. Because in reality, all I want to tell you is how incorrigibly smitten I am with you. It's like this. Your presence engulfs me, your absence eats me alive, and fortunately or unfortunately, I want the world to see you through my eyes. I'm a bit scared of this death wish of mine, too. Because if everyone got to see you for how splendid you are, well, I don't even want to imagine what will happen. 

It hurts, more than I can describe, when you frown upon my fruitless attempts to woo you. But, nothing, hurts more than not trying. It's a bit like waiting for your bus to come at a bus stop. The bus is taking too long. And so, you decide to walk to the next stop, hoping that the bus will arrive by the time you reach there. For all you know, the bus may not reach even after you have arrived at the next stop, but at least, you've moved a bit. Better than standing and waiting at the same spot. That philosophy could get kicked in the nuts if you are midway to the next stop and the bus passes by. Because maybe, the driver is not interested in stopping between stations, and that could spell disaster. 

In essence, I can't stop myself from trying to strike a conversation with you. I can't stop myself from wanting to tell you how fascinating you are to me. Not for a minute can I stop admiring the way your hair bobs and bounces about, the spring in your step, the two kinks that form below your eyes when you smile, or that button-nose of yours that can hardly hold those Saturn-sized specs in place. 

Of course, I wish I could be suave, capable of saying all of this out loud in a manner you like. But, more than wishing for useless skills, I want to be as lucky as your dad, who won the woman he wanted to be with. For that man, and the woman he loved are the reasons I get to write this today. 

You know what sucks the most? Anyone with half a brain could string together sentence after sentence to sound love-lorn. But, how do you convince the world, or the one who matters most, that there isn't a single false word in what you've dished out?  Do talking lessons work?

Learning the walk again

What do you do when you have three songs fighting for the title of 'Earworm' simultaneously? The contenders are....

Bohemian Rhapsody
It's the song that introduced a lot of us to the band called Queen. AND I WANT TO MAKE EVERY SINGLE HUMAN ON THIS PLANET LISTEN TO IT ON A UNIVERSAL LOUDSPEAKER, RIGHT NOW! In fact, I want to play this sound so loud, that it reaches all forms of extraterrestrial life, so even they wonder: Blimey, what a fucking amazing song! Why, you ask? Because of so many things. I think of mom every time I listen to it. It's the song that makes me feel that life is far too short to keep your shit bottled inside. Finally, which other song tells you more convincingly that nothing really matters?

Hurt (Jonny Cash's cover)
Thinking of the movie Logan? Look, now, I'm not the most musically literate around, but boy do I long for brilliant soundtracks, gems if you may, that come as part of good movies. Because honestly, it's plain excrutiating to run into good music all by yourself. Luckily, I know a select few who have exceptional taste in music, so they let me in on new stuff from time to time. 

Cash's version of this song by Nine Inch Nails is a lot more about the no-frills sound of the acoustic guitar than anything else. The baritone vocal parts only add to the tiresome warmth. But it's one of those songs that you won't rush to dig the lyrics of. Instead, it's the kind which you want to listen to in a quiet room, with your eyes closed and no one around.

Learning to walk
I know a smart, little bastard. His name is Deepak, and he's the one who first mentioned the name Foo Fighters to me. When I first heard the band's name, I was like Foo what? Fast-forward four years, the band is easily my favourite, the prime reason being Dave Grohl (the band's lead singer/guitarist) and his lion-like voice. Learning to walk is perfect if you're stuck in a rut, fighting the world in your head. It's capable of inducing in you a sense of despondence that you haven't known before. Moreso if you're stuck in a traffic jam, swearing at a sea of red, car taillights in front of you. 

Somehow, it still has a calming, almost elating effect, the kind that makes you feel stronger because of the challenges you face in your head. Who knew music could make you feel so much?

This song left me with a lesson just today evening, and no it's not because of its lyrics. Enjoy your conversation. Don't worry about whether it will give you the end-result you want out of it. Enjoy it, have fun with your words, because maybe, you might end up saying something magical.

I fear I'll have another earworm, this time from this band called Alter Bridge. But this band requires a dedicated post because of who and how I came across it.

About the above-mentioned songs, picking between them is pure sacrilege. They make you wish that someone stick their fist inside your chest and rip your heart out. That's how much they hurt at times. You feel like a naive, little kid who knows little about how the world works. You wonder why it is such a task to get your feelings reciprocated. You feel reckless in your sorrow and think "How does it matter to be prudent when you're not going to get what you want anyway?"

Somewhere, your wiser self steps in, telling you to get a grasp over yourself. "I'll get you across this sea of shit. Just hold yourself together."

Now, I don't have a moral of the story. Yes, listen to awesome songs, and please share the ones you really like. There's always someone out there looking for great music. Crucially, listen to your inner self, or your inner instinct. It's the higher mind in each one of us that knows how to deal with all the bollocks in the world. It's also the part of us that is eternally hopeful of something positive. And sometimes, a little hope is all you need.

Wondering

Wondering, it's a luxury that the lucky ones among us get to indulge in. It's that blissful time when you get to empty your busy, little space between your ears, and let your squidgy, neuron-infested brain take a nice walk. Let it revel, jump and bunny-hop even. Phew, what an ability, what a gift!

It's what keeps us occupied in ourselves, helps us create the miracles we do. The paintings, the lyrics, the music, the art, the food, the cars, the wars, the works. Why are rains so calming? Why does friendship feel like a warm blanket? What induces respect, and what retains it? Why are some so hideous, why do some never wish well, or maybe, it's just yourself.
Why's that woman you admire all day so heartwrenchingly captivating? Why is it so easy to run out of adjectives for 'gorgeous'? And why does the word 'beautiful' feel so generic and unimaginative? Perhaps, it is, that's why.

I was standing on my balcony, looking far into the rain. A drenched pigeon came flying in,  looking for a dry perch, and I heard the sound it made. I tried spelling the sound that emanated from the bird; not the first time I'd heard the sound of a pigeon. I couldn't.
Ever wondered what sounds birds and animals make? Sure, the lion roars, the crow 'kaws', the monkeys chatter, and blah, blah, blah.... Except, they don't. In fact, if animals ever realise that we have names for the sounds they make, they'll positively die laughing.
No, really, pigeons never 'Guttar goo', dogs never 'bhow-bhow', and neither do cats 'meow'. The kids are being fooled, RIGHT from Kindergarten.

All the sounds, words put in place to represent sounds, are useless. They are all instruments placed for us to somehow feel that we've understood what's around us. Do we understand what the sounds these creations emit? Nah. Even our own languages are a lot of farce put together. Do we understand each other? Some of us do. The rest, well, we need to make note of the insinuations. I wonder whether those notes are useful.

Wondering is a wonderful thing. A bit abstract, but splendid nevertheless. And, it's strange that a good chunk of us wonder in a very narrow spectrum of things. Classic examples? Work, people, the gorgeous woman, books, music, more music, the little car, world domination from time to time, the likes. Maybe add in whatever you feel like into the list, but you get the drift.

That's probably why an Elon Musk is so fascinating. Their whole realm goes way beyond themselves. How do they wonder about things so much bigger than themselves? Colonizing Mars, bullet trains across the Pacific, teleportation, man-machine bonding maybe, who knows. Night after night, they work on pet projects, when the world is snoring away. Each morning, their dream coming a step closer to completion.

Staying up late comes naturally to a lot of people I know closely. They are all the creative kind, scratching away at some itch, and it's fascinating what keeps a good lot of us up and running till the sun raises its head. Maybe it's the wonders of the world, all that's left unseen, unfelt, unread, and the pain of going away without having experienced any of it. That sense of wonder is what probably has us snatching more hours from the day than our allowance.