Note: The photos do not belong to me. They are the work of Animesh Ray. Do check his site out for some fabulous photographs.
It is 2 AM in the morning, and I cannot go to sleep. As one PoTF favorite after another rolls off my laptop, I feel an myself retreating into a cocoon of misery. And every time “Carnival of Rust” comes on, I feel a little more miserable. Clichéd though it sounds, I think Carnival of Rust is s”my song” for the time being.
I have thoroughly enjoyed being in Narela over the past fortnight. Whether looking at the interminable spring of patients in the outdoors of Medicine, or delivering a child in the labor room after almost two years, it has been fun. However, I still regret the ill-timed posting which led to me missing out on the Delhi and Kolkata tours of the band that is the life and soul of the music-for-wounded-heart me… Poets of the Fall.
On a global tour to promote their new album Temple of Thought, the Finnish band was in several cities of India, playing their most loved tunes. And they toured Kolkata, which has been shunned by the major rock bands that have come to India over the years… and Kolkata responded with a whoop and a leap.
My Facebook feed has been overrun with people going gaga over the live show, the trip to Heaven and back, in two hours, as a friend put it. The Delhi wing of the show did not seem to generate this amount of hoopla, but then again, I guess I do not have that many Delhiites on my Facebook either. But going to the Delhi show would mean not only getting out of Narela, but also going alone (since the friends I had asked to go more or less blew me off)… and it would be too awful. It would bring back the memories from the seven Rhapsody-s (the Medical College, Kolkata annual fest), especially those memories associated with a bit of heart ache… and there are myriads of such moments. It would just push me back into the abyss that I just managed to walk out of. So maybe it was a good thing that Narela happened to me when it did.
Anyways. Maybe next time… if there is one, I shall catch Saaresto and gang take me to musical nirvana. Till then, on nights such as these, I shall listen to one PoTF cracker after another, progressively delve deep into a drowsy numbness until finally sleep, the balm of broken hearts takes over. I just hope that the show is as good as the Kolkata concert was purported to be. The PoTF twitter feed read:
Our tour manager, who has worked with many bands during the years, told us after the show: this goes into his top 5 gigs. Kolkata, you rule!
— Poets of the Fall (@PoetsOfTheFall) August 28, 2012
Yes, I kid you not, one of the leading lights in modern rock music declared the awesomeness of Kolkata (albeit in a bit of a back-handed manner) on a global platform. I mean they said it on Twitter, so its gotta be true!
PoTF or no PoTF, my Carnival of Rust will play on silently. Enough emotional blundering on the blog… a departure from the usually studiously stoic face I try to portray here. But I guess we all are allowed a little leeway from time to time… maybe it is time to revive my “ramblings blog” to get out the words off of my chest now.
P.S.: I do not know if you’re reading this (most likely not), or even if you are, then you understand if its you I mean by this, but I am sorry I pushed you. I hoped you would have a good time and not end up feeling even worse. I really missed head-banging with you, amongst the others in our rag-tag group of geeky rockers. One of the reasons I stayed away from the Delhi show. Going alone would suck too much… and as it turned out, I might just have pushed you into the same corner that I wanted to escape. I did not know it would turn out that way. I am sincerely apologetic… Anyways… Who’d have believed us goody two shoes converting into rock-monsters when the strings were plucked and the cymbals were hit? But we did. We shed our inhibitions in the semi-darkness of anonymity and mob behavior and enjoyed letting go once in a while… you literally letting your hair down, me, more so figuratively. So, I am sorry if I pushed you into a bad trip. I hope you know that was not the intention. The intention was to sing with the throngs… to head-bang to the beat of the music… to hear the thump of a million watts of music and lyrics in our hearts… to turn around, high on music, and look into the understanding eyes of a friend who shared your enthusiasm and appreciation for whatever number you were headbanging to… to let go of our fears and worries and enter into a world where we were whoever we wanted to be. I was hoping that after the rhythm fest you would forget to pick up your satchel of cares on the way out. I was hoping that the collective adrenaline rush with friends shaking a hip (and two left legs) with equally equine friends (when it comes to dancing, at least) would relieve you of the burden of cares that lay on your shoulder. Evidently I failed… yet, I hope you shall not be too averse to putting down your burden of care… and just forget to pick it up. And I hope you shall do so soon…