Sunday, November 13, 2011

Based on a true story.

Momma momma, I make you cry,
Momma dear, why o why,
Why do you have to do this momma
Why do I have to listen to you when you're not gonna
you get too emotional
dishonesty is just perceptional
I'd like to obey you and be a good girl,
But you know there's life in the world,
Freedom, Peace, Air, so much bliss,
everything that I'm going to have to miss.
Miss because you dont think its right
But why do I have to live in this fright?
your tears tear me apart,
and that's not even the best part.
my reflections fail me, do you even care?
i cant feel alive, am I even there?
you bound me to shackles and chains
you rip my nerves, you took my brains
when was the last time i remember
when did i not have to surrender?

Momma, please, why can't I be.
Mom'd say - I'll kill you in the name of discipline
one day you'd see.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Jeremy

I love the naming game. I name everything that I love. There was one time when I named the guy I was willing to date Hagar the Horrible, for reasons best known to nobody. It was not a surprise that it didn't work out between the two of us.
However, the above piece of information was not for no tangible reason.
I thought you'd like to know this. 'Cause then, this post would make sense.
I was once a pianist. Not a great one at that. But yeah, well I was a pianist.
Well, there's a story behind that too. My dad once went to Siliguri and for those who didn't know you get electronic items at dirt cheap rates over there. And since he didn't really know what to buy, he bought me a tiny piano-keyboard. Wait! In case you thought that I was the artistic sorts, let me clear your doubts. I am not even close to art. I could be terrible at creating music (This being a modest statement. I actually am terrible at creating music.) So there I was - an ugly duckling with a 2 and a half octave piano with absolutely no idea what to do with it.
And then, my mom had plans of her own.
She thought that I am the naughty-haughty brat of the house and I, according to her, was not particularly interested in studies. (Which is sort of ironic beacuse I am good. Considering I did pretty well academically in my future.) And I was studying under SEBA where in the final years of my studies I had to study "Advance" mathematics. My mom was certain of me failing that one. And the only way out was, if I was ordinary at music, I could choose that as a subject instead of proving my mathematical handicap to the world by flunking it with miserable scores.
Thus, because of a cheap bargain and a overthoughtful mother (and also because of a bad record at studies) I was the proud owner of a tiny piano. (Its more like a Piano-Keyboard or a digital piano, but i like to call it my piano). It was a beautiful casio CSR-250(, which was lated given away to Jini who screwed it - like literally.)
Anyways, luckily for me, we also had music school very close to my house (like a 10 minute walk away). And that place belonged to the President of the All Assam Music Association. My luck!
(BTW, my first year of those cost my parents just 30 bucks a month - beat that!)
That was definitely not the best learning experience of my life. In case you didn't read it well already - I am not an art person.
I scraped through. Got 2nd division marks in each level (I appeared only 3 of them in 7 years - which is kinda slow.) Another irony.. remember the mention of Advance Mathematics? Yeah, the subject which i was assumed to flunk and which is why I sort of started learning piano - Well, I scored 91 in it. Thus, the entire piano exercise is rendered sort of pointless.
However, the first hitch appeared when I passed my first level. Surprising as it was for the fact that I passed, my lessons started getting tougher. I needed a bigger piano to learn those lessons. It was a sort of unnecessary luxury, considering that a bigger one would cost my father more than his entire months salary. (But I dont really consider that terrible either, 'cause that piano now would cost me more than my entire month's salary anyways.) So, my parents rejected the idea. I cried my way into a bigger piano.
And that, my dear, was the birth of Jeremy.
He is awesome.
He is a seven octave fellow. His keys were too big for my tiny hands at that time. But owning him was an overwhelming experience. On afterthought, it still is.

I had locked him up the cupboard for a while.
But now, I am sort of rediscovering my love for him
What inspired this post?
Today I saw his aged ancestor. A huge accoustic. I played it too. I wonder if there really is anything that can make me feel more alive.
SO today i decide that I am going to take my piano lessons seriously and, when I can afford the luxury, I'll get Jeremy's relative home. It will be good for him to stay with family.

Ah! Another dream added to the list.

Anyways, see ya around.