Entry

 The writer's entry for Cactus Flower, the annual magazine by the English Press Club, BITS, Pilani. (Didn't get selected though, so read and comment) 

THE GRAND UNIFIED THEORY

-          Prasannaa Venkatesh

A mulatto…

    “You listen to Indian bands?” intimidated the senior’s voice, “Name some.”

An albino…

   “Um, Lounge Piranha, Junkyard Groove, E Flat and others, sir”.

A mosquito…

   “E Flat? Ok, imagine that lappy over there is me and sing an E Flat song to it, nicely.”

My Libido…

   Fixating my eyes on the computer, I sang, “Wwould, ssomeone please open up thiss ssarcophagus, ‘cos I’m a living zzombie…”. Of course my voice was trembling. It had only been a few days since I’d arrived on campus, proudly strutting about like I owned this blue blooded institution and voila, I was in a senior’s room, singing my favorite Chennai band’s song like some sub Saharan who had been dropped in Siberia, shivering and splattering.

   “Do you listen to metal?”

My Denial… My denial… My denial…

  “Not much, sir. Only grunge; I’m more into alternative rock.”

  “Metal is good man. I’m not surprised. The metal scene in Chennai is yuck.”

My Denial… My Denial… My Denial…

 “Not exactly, sir. Null friction is a decent band…”

 My Denial… My Denial… My Denial…

  “Null friction is not metal, dumbo… Listen to Lamb of God or Pantera...”

  Kurt Cobain and I remained in our state of denial in the background…

     

                                                                 A few weeks later…

“Let’s start. One, two, three, four…”

      The room, hitherto very still and silent suddenly burst with music as the violin and the veena blended together, touching notes, making one’s heart flip as I listened on, resisting every urge to just get up and start dancing. I was amazed and more so, confused. Since my ‘initiation’ a few weeks ago(The senior’s voice still booming inside my head), I had made it a point to become a proper metal head, listening to all genres; thrash, folk, death, doom, melodeath, progressive and black.

  The tempo of the percussion rose steadily and the veena followed suit…

     Even alternative rock is supposed to sound boring right now. Metal is what everyone’s supposed to like, right? The rest was all ‘kiddo stuff’, no?  Why did I like this then?

  The duo reached a crescendo as the last few notes danced off their wooden bodies…

     Every other form and genre of music was supposed to be ‘boring’. Metal was way different from Carnatic. I closed my eyes, thinking; and listening. It’s a whole universe between them, isn’t it?

Isn’t it?

   The veena let out a violent riff as the able hands that played it traversed the full length of the fret, a wild blur.

    And I was immediately transported to Music Nite with the lead guitarist playing Eddie Van Halen’s “Eruption”, as people bowed in respect while some headbanged and others were left simply speechless. The mind was confused. What was I hearing? Carnatic or Rock? Van Halen or Veena?

   The veena ended with a challenging note, snaring at the violin to prove its worth. The violin took it up, beginning with a sober note. The bow and the hand which controlled it soon started snaking back and forth, doubling its speed as it mocked the percussion to follow it successfully while the other hand which held the violin struggled to hold still.  As the tempo reached a feverish pitch…

    And I was reminded of a song which I had listened to very recently, “Inis Mona” by Eluveitie. The genre mattered very little now as it hit me. Music was not so much about listening to only a particular style or genre as it was about music itself. Nomenclature is a creation of man, who desperately tries to classify sights and sounds which he sees and hears, in vain. The notes, the music which flowed did not question the instrument from where it poured; violin, veena or electric guitar. Music was not a random collection of notes to be strummed at will. Music is not limited, is not held back and is not burdened by the taxonomic curse man tries to cast on her.

    I hung my head in shame for being so narrow minded. I also bowed my head in respect. The experience had moved me.  Back in my room, I closed my eyes and quietly listened to “Nagumomu “, notching its rating up a few stars in my iTunes library...

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