A tryst with heavy metal

So, yesterday, this good ol' female went to a death metal gig... Oh Dear Lord God Almighty!!!

Most of the crowd was in their mid/late teens n early twenties... everyone, evidently, loved black to the hilt (I being one of the very few who begged to differ in their love of black)... I was there mainly on the behest of my lovely school buddy... Well, for a metal-ignorant person like me everything was new and quite dramatically different. I could see the teens moshing... For the other fellow ignorants:

mosh (msh)

v. moshed, mosh·ing, mosh·es

v.intr.

To knock against others intentionally while dancing at a rock concert; slam-dance.

They were slamming alright... I would have never understood the meaning of 'Silence is golden' if not for yesterday's experience. Not that the guys were not good, rather I guess, they were very passionate about the music that they were playing. I could hear two very ardent fans discussing the skills of each band that had performed during the event. I wanted to voice the fact that everything sounded more or less same to me. I was wondering how would the people in the room react if I suddenly made Mika (not the terrible specimen of our species, here m talking about the French singer, mind you, before you protest, can the guy pitch his voice, hell yeah!!) or John Mayer sing to them? Run shrieking out of the room?! Now that would be some sight!

Well... since good times seem to fleet at super-sonic speed, this never ending gig did end, eventually :P

And all the metal lovers, before you lynch me to death, please consider... here stands before you, a music-ignorant pop and classical-rock fan, who cannot differentiate between two people screaming their lungs out... Darling, be my guest! Scream and bring the whole city down... Afterall, don't we all live in a free country?!

Long time, no see

I guess.. long time, no see, would be quite an understatement here. Why do we write things? Help me here to understand this? I could never dare to write one more word in my diary after my "capable-of-giving-a-cat" a severe inferiority complex curious bro read my diary... Anyways, that was millenniums ago... So, back to where we were... why do we pen our thoughts down? Well, each one to his own... I bet there be quite a few reasons behind that one!

Well.. I, for that matter, m writing after 3 years... quite a duration, must say... n I do hope the the number of added candles on Mr. Cake do have put some added wisdom in me. Talking about wisdom, isn't a little over-rated? I mean, how do u actually define a wise person? Someone who knows that he is in a ditch when he is in one? (He is just a mere pronoun here, I bet, a lot of shes are there in their own royally dug ditches!) And what effectively describes a fool? One who doesn't known when he is being taken for a ride? But then, who's fault is it anyways? The one being ridden or the rider (now stop your evil brain clogs and don't you even dare think about any hideous pun). The other day, some one told me, my, you were a fool back then. Well, I beg to differ... I wasn't a fool rather I 'was un-world-wise'.

Everyday, I see people around me, becoming 'world-wiser' by the second. How sad, if the whole world becomes the wisest version of itself, what about the 'poor' wise riders?! Sad, all the being-ridden(s), would, then, be gone.