not rocking, dude.

“Dude not cool” she said

“What is?” I asked

“You are getting free – FRICKIN FREE – passes to the Metallica concert and you are still not going”

“Urm, well…”

“Well what?”

“Nothing. Don’t feel like it.”

“Loser only”

This conversation might be heard to happen between a pal and me on a Sunday afternoon in Bengaluru during late October 2011.

Most of the populace was buzzing with excitement. There was the Grand Prix happening on the Indian soil for the first time ever. Unless you argue that India was taken over by Aryans who are from Europe and so in a philosophical sense, if “India” meant “Aryan Land” then a lot of Europe is also “India” in a way.  No, wait. That doesn’t make sense.

What was I saying? Yes. Most people were excited about the First Indian Grand Prix and/or First Indian Metallica Concert. It was one of the most eventful Sundays. Even us Bangaloreans, usually to be found relaxed owing to our coffee-on-bed favoring weather, were up and about on a rainy day.

I will not even talk about F1. It seems like a bunch of really fast and noisy cars trying to out-noise and out-fast each other. I am missing the whole point of this sport, of course. I am told this is the world’s most expensive sport. If clever birds like Dr. Vijay Mallya and folks who own Ferrari, Vodafone etc. are pouring their fortunes down this, there must be something about the noisy little cars. Anyway, I think it is pretty cute how the winning driver (they are called drivers, aren’t they? Or is it an offensive term?) attempts to drink Champagne from that over-sized cup. Awww.

As far as Metallica goes – my deepest relationship with them is when at the end of a jolly college party everyone would be smashed under the influence of Old Monk and sing off-key to Nothing Else Matters with heart-felt gestures. If we have done this once, we have done it a hundred times. That’s how much I know about Heavy Metal.

I don’t know much about that Beethoven chap either. But my nerves don’t start frightfully trembling when someone plays Beethoven’s music at high decibels. So I guess, to me at least, Beethoven > Metallica.

Along with these two ‘First Indian …’ – there was also another historical event that had captured the country’s imagination. An actor called Shah Rukh Khan had, for the last few months, surpassed Unilever in marketing and sold his movie Ra.One to the unsuspecting public more than my brother tries to sell House Music to me. This remarkable movie had released the previous week and was being watched by a large chunk of Indians. For some reason, most of the people I knew who watched the movie had uncharitable comments to make. Something to do logiclessness and scriptlessness. Most reviews were quite entertaining, I must say. All in all, the movie did generate a lot of entertainment.

One of my close friends is a Shah Rukh Khan Fan (yes.) and since I love her, I shall restrain from cracking the popular ‘Rahul Gandhi is visiting families of people who watched Ra.One’ joke on this public forum. I think that joke is found hilarious by so many people because it takes a jibe at BOTH SRK and Rahul Gandhi. Clever. While I am not equipped with enough mental apparatus to invent such brilliant one-liners, I am never tired of repeating them and sniggering to myself.

So, after taking a deep long consideration of the wide bouquet (is it bouquet?) of options – viz. watching F1 on TV, Metallica in Rain, Ra.One with SRK or Rath Yatra with Sri Advaniji – I decided my course of action.

I sat on my bed with a hot cup of Tea and my Kindle. Read a book through evening to late night. Drank a few cups of more tea. Visited a few aunts. What a glorious Sunday it was, I tell you. Or like the Delhi kids are calling it these days – Rocking.

 

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