Top Guitar Riffs of All Times

When you go spelunking on your guitar, you fall in love with the sounds of its strings. You explore techniques, you slide your fingers on its frets, you hammer-on, you pull-off and gradually your fingers move with such precision that the movement would give the picture of a spider web if snapped with a low shutter speed camera.

I am not exaggerating, trust me.

It is at this point of time that you yearn to imitate a Nirvana or a Linkin Park, or maybe even the Gods of music- The Eagles.
So here I thought to write about the best guitar riffs, and while the internet is replete with a list of best guitar riffs that may extend to infinity, I am coming up with just a few random picks of my own.

1. TOOL- Schism:

If Nirvana were the Gods before the 21st Century, these are the upcoming ones. The way the riff goes sends you in a trance already. Go ahead and click on the play button to experience.

2. BREAKING BENJAMIN- Diary of Jane:

Another 21st Century song, which was released in the year 2006.

3. NIRVANA- Smells Like Teen Spirit:

And which amateur guitarist doesn't attempt this. Even listening to the riff sends a chill down the spine. They are the idols of all musicians, the gods of Music.

DEEP PURPLE- Smoke On The Water

Listen to this and your head will go banging on its own. ;) Enough said.

GUNS AND ROSES: Sweet Child O'Mine:

And you know that you are lucky to be born in an era after these controversial perfectionists. If you haven't heard of this song already, consider it a sin already.

Apocalypse Now! - The SMS Lingo

 

That outrage you feel when you see that weird combination of alphabets and numerals on your smart phone’s screen makes you wonder whether you really deserve that ‘smart’ phone. Merely, because you just can’t decipher that awkward looking code. The screen reads:

Gud n8  :-)
and it is from your new friend…ummm…girl ;)

Well…okay… although that ‘good’ reads like the Hindi word for jaggery…you could figure it out, but, what is that next word?

You decide not to ask the messenger, thinking that asking for the meaning of the message will put you in a mortifying situation, and who knows, what effect that might have on her opinion about you. After all you have just met. And what would you write?

“Erm…what does your message mean again? I am sorry but me being a coder doesn’t mean that I can ‘decode’ cryptic texts”

urghh…sounds blatantly awkward…and sheepish.

You give up, throw your phone by the bed side and lie down to try and sleep.
Just then…as if the Gods have suddenly bestowed you with brains, you are enlightened by a sudden realisation. It is a EUREKA moment for you. You sit upright and reply back:

Good night :-)

You have finally deciphered the code. You have a sound sleep there-on with ‘sweet dreams’.

Yes, it may have felt exaggerated, but this SMS lingo is getting illogical with every passing day.
I mean you have to merely twitch another muscle to write nite, instead of n8. Even ‘night’ wouldn’t have hurt. That sluggishness my dearie, to type two more letters or that excuse that you might just hurt your fragile fingers, has led to some big language disasters there.

The SMS lingo is replete with such cataclysmic spellings, making a new vocabulary of its own, and the fact that I, myself, am using the word ‘lingo’ instead of ‘language’ only re-enforces my statement. As if those abbreviations- which have now become universal with time, like TTYL, BTW, JK, IDK, LOL, ROFL, BRB, etc.- weren’t enough to fuddle our heads the first time we saw them, we now have landl9, f9, m8, n8 and other obtrusively bizarre collection of words. Even a ‘word’, by definition is a ‘meaningful’ collection of alphabets, and not numbers and alphabets together. That they aren’t meaningful, is another story altogether.

These ‘words’ btw…oops… by the way, don’t even sound right. F9? Seriously? Sounds more like a new version of the F1 racing to me!
Just a few days back a friend texted, ‘I’ll brb’, and I spent the entire evening figuring out if it meant ‘burp’ or ‘blurb’ or ‘burb’. Thankfully I asked and got to know it was the abbreviated form of ‘be right back’. Talk about annoying slangs.

What’s worse, we are all gradually getting so used to this ‘lingo’ that it subconsciously creeps in our professional writings, be it a cover letter, a resume, an application to a colleague or a client. The worst hit cohort is, however, that of the students. While the teachers toil hard to make them learn their spellings right, they scribble short forms and SMS abbreviations, owing to their habits of constant texting.

Another case in point of a language apocalypse was when one of my coolest friends, Priyanshi, and I started off with a debate on a social networking site (it is not unusual, trust me) and she wrote something like “IMO, blah blah blah..” For a long time I could not come up with a counter argument to her statement, not because I didn’t have one, but because I couldn’t think about anything but that strange unused abbreviation, IMO. For those who are like me and don’t know about it, it’s ‘In My Opinion’. It wasn’t her fault either. She had just managed to grab on that word like any other normal conversational word, and had ‘subconsciously’ written it down.
I can only suggest that since, now, network providers don’t charge by how long your SMS is, let’s revert back to a little close-to-normal-and-meaningful language, with limited abbreviations and spelling disasters, to avoid such language disasters.

Till the tym dat happens, I guess, I’ll brb with another blog post. You guys can always ‘like’, and ‘comment’ to reach me.
TTYL.
:)

To Belive or Not To Believe, That is the Question

The recent catastrophe that struck Uttarakhand was devastating for those who experienced it. In fact, even that would be an understatement. There were friends of mine and people that I know, who witnessed the tragedy, while the others were lucky enough to chicken out of their expected-to-be-fun-Dehradun-trips. Two of those people were my neighbourhood aunt and her working daughter.
Being the religious people that they are, they had gone to Uttarakhand as a pilgrimage, of course, not expecting a calamity as bad as this to strike them. While they were there, their family got the news, and got tensed(obviously). Yet, the family couldn’t contact them for four days. It was only after four days that some relief camp providers safely dropped them off to their house, the one in front of mine.
Undoubtedly, we are close to their family, and so, my mum, couldn’t resist the urge to talk to them about what all they had to go through. She was also, of course, one of those who worried about them when she got the news of the floods. Yet, more baffling than their stories of living without food and water for four days and surviving the scrutinizing eyes of the locals there, were stories of people who survived, only because they BELIEVED in GOD and PRAYED.
Don’t get me wrong. Even I am not a believer and do not blindly follow religious customs and superstitions, but, that’s what they told us. Even now as I write this article, I can’t help but question the truth and conviction of the stories…
While there were many such stories, there were two that left me baffled.
In one of them, one of their fellow pilgrims was a Big Worshipper of Lord Shiva, and used to chant in the temple everyday, between 6-7. If it was luck, or coincidence, or his prayers, I fail to comprehend, but the rains used to stop exactly for that hour (between 6-7), everyday. I do not know if there could be any meteorological or scientific reason for it, and if there is, I would most certainly like to know.
The other incident, involved a tourist family that had the father as a great believer and worshipper, again. They were stuck in the hotel room with all doors and windows jammed, and water gushing in. They luckily spotted a ventilator high above one of the walls and got through it, outside. When the father looked back at the ventilator once he was out, it had a grill, which obviously wasn’t there a while back, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to move out. Yet, we can convincingly argue, that he might have looked at some other ventilator amidst the chaos and all. What we can’t answer is the mysterious way in which his lost son (merely 11 years old) was found after a day, beneath a rock. He apparently couldn’t recall how he got there because he FELL ASLEEP!!

But, if it was really GOD, or the power of the prayers, that saved them, then there were many others who prayed as well? After all, in the times of crisis, even the toughest of the persons soften down and resort to all measures to save their beloved’s lives. And why that specific hour between 6-7? There were people praying the whole day! People NEEDED god the whole day! We can go on and come up with a list of questions that are unanswered
It is the outlook/perception that makes us see the incidents from various angles, each of us interpreting it in a different way and each of us coming up with a different explanation.

It is merely a question of believing or not.

Things to do on a rainy day!

 It’s the time of the year which I personally wait for. It’s the Monsoon season. It’s the time when you can go out and let Lord Indra bestow his blessings on you through many a raindrops that touch your skin, tingling the very pores. It’s the time when you can jump in that puddle as it retaliates to your jump with its splashes, when you can look at the sky as it bursts with water, and stick out your tongue for that fresh raindrop to tickle your taste buds. It’s the time when you can relive your childhood.
Childhood or not, here are some things you must try out on a rainy day.

1.     Go spelunking on that old bi-cycle:

Why let that iron machine taste rust? So what if you are all grown up? Remember those days when you used to gush through the puddles on your cycle, legs extending out to save your skin from the splashes, loving the way the water agitated? Think you can relive that moment? Of course! Age is no bar for the activities that you love!

2.     All you need are books and coffee:

After writing a whole blog post on this, there is no further elaboration required. Go to http://theseraphian.blogspot.in/search/label/Movies%20and%20books to read.

3.     Have that sizzling Maggi:

There is a reason Maggi had its latest advertising campaign, “Me and Meri Maggi” running so successfully. Amongst the many reasons to have Maggi, there is also a rainy season waali Maggi. So grab that packet, make a hot, soupy plate of Maggi, and have it with your sisie/bro/family/spouse/just friends/roomy/anyone you love to share it with

4.     Go Pique-nique:

Yes. It’s been years since you had a lovely time outside India Gate/in the Central park of CP (If you are a Delhi-ite) or any pique-nique park for that matter. So pack your sandwiches and head out for the pique-nique.

5.     Long Drive on the high-way:

Not a family guy? Go out for a reaaaalllly long drive on the high way and savour the fresh air and the beauty of post-rain scenario. Breathe in the azure. And yea! Do not forget to take your favourite playlist for the drive.

6.     Paper boats!

It’s paper boats time again. Make those colourful paper boats again, just as you did in your childhood and imagine that someone would receive it at then other end.

7.     Paint:

Buy a canvas or just take out a rough sheet and paint your imagination clubbed with that picturesque view outside on it. Most importantly, don’t worry if its not a master-piece! The point is to appreciate nature

8.     Try out photography:

And you do not need a DSLR for that. Even a primitive camera would do. After all the magic is not in the camera, but in the photographer

Trying to Fit in The Wrong Shoes

The office cabin seemed cramped… as if her movements were restricted. This, in spite of the fact that the cabin was opulent with a glass door and freshly painted walls. A soothing colour, they had. Why, the whole office was a luxury, with an excellent, all-time-operational cafeteria and even a gym (though it wasn’t used. Who goes gyming in formals?).  Yet, she could not do anything much but sit in front of her desktop and analyse the data that gleamed on the screen, its brightness prickling the eyes. Sitting in front of the laptop for ours together was a sedentary activity, which only added to her existing problem of a big waistline that seemed to bulge a few inches more every day she looked at herself in the mirror. She did not do any strenuous exercise throughout her working day. Well, unless you count the constant use of fingers for perpetual pressing of keys on the keyboard.

She opened a Google tab now, bored of crunching numbers since morning. “Amazing women footwear” She typed in the address bar.

Yeah, she was a fashion major since childhood. She had loved sketching dresses and female figures during her teens, like all other girls her age. The only difference was that she was better than the rest of them. With a beautiful face, flawless skin, nice personality and drawing skills like that, she was tailor made for the design industry. At least that’s what her friends told her. Her friends, who could understand her more than her parents, she thought at the time.

She was brought back from her reminisce by the change of screen display. The search on the Google tab had resulted in a deluge of websites that had all kinds of designs of ladies’ footwear- high heeled stilettos, pumps, peep toes, wedges, pencil heels and what not. After surfing through a few sites, she closed the laptop lid in frustration. If only she had the opportunity to prove herself in the industry…she could add in so much, and be so much better, and would still have had time for herself.
She looked at her refection in the glass door. She was good-looking overall, with kohl rich eyes and a petite nose. And then she noticed the bulges and turned away.

She remembered, how she had once told her family that she wanted to be a designer and how her mother had scoffed the statement off, considering it to be just another childhood wistful fantasies of hers, thinking that she would come up with something else the next day, probably, even a pilot or a news channel weather girl.
It was then that she realised how she yearned that she was not an Indian- at least not a residential one.

Her cousin had told her how he had sold newspapers to pay for his own High School fees in London, and how he was still revered amongst his friends. So what if he was a newspaper guy or his friend was a hotel attendant, or his girlfriend, a waitress at the bar-b-queue restaurant. They had fun with their work and their subjects they had chosen for. More importantly, they were independent people who knew how to manage their finances at an early age and could even choose their own future. All of them wanted to be something different, a musician, a painter, a soccer celebrity, a hotel manager, a journalist, or an operations manager in a technical firm.

Different people, different perspectives.

Unlike India, that had different people, all with the same outlook. The neighbourhood fatty aunties would say, Commerce liya aur CA nahin kiya, toh kya kiya, only to leave the poor commerce chap befuddled and speechless. Well, he wants his own start-up. Why be a CA for that?
Others would come and boast of a sister-in-law’s second cousin’s son’s achievement in the JEE and put an unhappy Science student who had just managed a good rank in the AIEEE architecture exam somehow, to shame.
And then there is the third category, another cohort of the slogged ones, with not so good a kismet. They are the ones who either dream to or are bound to spend their lives clad in white lab coats, in hospitals or clinics.

In a country where you have to gather a lot of courage to even think of choosing something apart from these three professions- Engineer, Doctor, or a CA, there was meagre scope of turning the dreams of becoming an interior or fashion designer to reality. And even that opportunity lied with the well-offs of the society, who could pay for the abnormally high fees.

She was left with no choice but to get into an engineering college, then an IIM, get placed into a well-paid job and get stuck with the boredom forever. Dreams of a lavish apartment with enviable interiors did come true, not to forget that she owned the most high-end gadgets amongst everyone in her social circle. Yet, the materialistic things could not give her the satisfaction of having the life she truly desired. The life of having fun in what she did, wherever she was, amidst the luxury.

That life only went to the good-for-nothing cousin of hers who scored lesser back in school, but who made a fortune in London, doing what he loved the best- travel photography.
Yet, another day had passed, and all her fatigued body would allow her to do on reaching home was open London’s famous daily newspaper website and read his cousin’s travel column …and smile for his success…which she couldn’t have.   

All You Need are Books and Coffee

Picture this. It’s a fine Sunday evening, the evening you had been waiting for, the whole week. Your annoying necessity- the mobile phone- is kept in one of the corners of oblivion, and you are, for once, away from its perpetual buzz. And to make things even more blissful, it is raining. It is the month of July, which made you wait for so long. It’s showering and you love it.

The Monsoon- a season that all Delhiites wait for, not only brings a smile on the face of people from all realms of the society, it brings a serenity, a certain calmness and freshness. A freshness that entices you to start your life, afresh, sans your worries, sans any qualms or uncertainties as the rains seem to have washed them all off.

On such an ideal day, what can be a better way to spend the time other than delving into a world of fiction created by your favorite authors.  All you need to do is grab a book and a cup of coffee, bask in the tranquility, lay back in the armchair in the balcony, or your garden and sip away, the incredible drink in that cup of yours, as you like it- hot, cold, creamy, frothy, black, decaf- pick your choice…and enjoy your books. Pick the best ones from the shelf and rejoice.

My picks:

1)      Inferno- Call it obsession, call it the love for a refreshment from the normal thriller books that do not even have the aspect of cryptic codes or deduction (except of course ‘Sherlock Holmes’ by Arthur Conan Doyle) but, Dan Brown makes my heart skip a beat every time one of his creations are out in the market. While most people do argue that all Dan Brown are mostly the same in the essence of it, but I say that they are all different from the mundane and humdrum plots of many other thriller and suspense series. The USP of all of his books remains that it as an exhaustive research of not only real facts but also an amalgamation of a travel account, history and monuments of a certain tourist place, and o course, a mind-baffling thriller, which is written with such dexterity that it makes you want to be at the place the story is set in, and explore it yourself. His latest, in particular, explores the beauty of Italy, it’s monuments and the rich history of its art and literature. So, if you take my advice, go ahead and pick this amazing thriller that you can not get your hands off.

2)      The Girl That Played With Fire: The second installment of the Millennium series by Steig Larrson, it did not receive as much recognition as its prequel, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, but is equally good, if not better. With an autistic, unethical female hacker as the protagonist, the story unravels with twists and turns into the life of Lizbeth Salander and her accompanist, Michael Blomkvist. The Millennium series is a head on take on crimes against women and brings out the subject with downright outrage, through the protagonist who is all set for vendetta.

3)      Inscrutable Americans: For a lighter read, go pick this amazing satirical humor by Anurag Mathur. The author explores through the eyes of an Indian, the stereotypes that the world has about India. While, you can not help that smile on your face and the laughter that is all bubbling up to leave your stomach, while you read it, you will also realize the ebbing image of India and its people for the many faults and disasters that they have seen. It’s time to move ahead of the poise and leap for excellence.
  

4)      Handle with care: This drama story by Jodi Picoult stirs your emotions as it explains the plight of a young girl who is the victim of a rare and severe form of brittle bone disease, and her mother’s dilemma of whether or not to sue her best friend and obstetrician for not having diagnosed her daughters condition early enough during the pregnancy to be able to abort the child.

5)      Jane Eyre: The best classic of all times, and even if I say that Charlotte Bronte has done a commendable job in articulating a true, maddening, love story with high-end drama and an overflow of emotions, it would be an understatement. This story is more than just that, it is a different world of emotions all-together that you get engrossed in, rather immersed in so easily.

While you indulge in your favorite stories, do not forget to savor the taste of that marvelous frothy cup of coffee that is keeping you company in your journey to another part of the galaxy, and adding to the exquisite weather and to the incredible showers that you had been waiting for, for so long.

Reverie

I swivel, I gush, I rush, never easel

As I take twists and turns

I spiral, I merrily laugh as I dwindle

To the ocean where surf churns

I befriend the ferns, I caress the silt

I am free and a master of will

I can tumble and whirlpool and tilt

I am free and a master of will

Now, I am the wind and I sway in air

I play music through the trees that rustle

I run through the grass, at times I blare

I play with the kites that are in a bustle

I waltz like a breeze with the damsel’s locks

Stretching her lips as she savours

My cool, my sound, and my whiff, my mock

As The pansies in the garden become my players

I am back from my dreams, I have touched veracity

I am just a girl and I am bound

My movements are restricted, have lost all audacity

I am just a girl and I am bound