Wednesday, July 21, 2010

A Few Stat(e)s.



And before I could realize anything, I see myself tearing my hair. The distress cannot get worse. I wrote something on my Facebook wall, the other day. In a bid to justify that he was not one of the league, he just forgot what he was commenting on. I had written about Facebook status and the smart Alec. And what he commented, had me in convulsions. Some people never change. For some, a change in what one is, is, it seems, simply equivalent to a change in what one tries to project oneself as. For some, this magnitude becomes so huge that they almost instantaneously become oblivious of the fact that they are the integral elements of the mix. Everyone forgets. I forgot, the other day.

It so happens, that in search of a childhood sweetheart, I join this social networking website. I had refrained from creating an account for the same reasons, all these years, for the reason that I would have to see un-intelligent updates of some really "aware" and some other "witty" "facepeople". Come on, what crap! You have your issues, sort them out yourself. The world did not create social networking for people to start preaching stuff about, say "LOVE" or perhaps the "formulae for success". Neither was the wall created for some "nostalgic" friend to write some insanely stupid remark about memories we are "supposed" to share and time we spent together. If you have some song that you like, you can simply, and very lucidly, state that you like this song, instead of, after an intense period of brainstorming, "intelligently" selecting the "catchiest" line in the whole song, as the status. And just because you are yourself bored with the kind of networking when there is no one to instigate any kind of activity from your side, so that, when people inquire of the thing, you make yourself look like a fool revealing the truth. By the way, you won't get any smarter by "cut, copy pasting" some old adage. Neither does writing everything in the "trendy, hip" shortened form, nor does writing "fuck" or any other distorted form of it make you any more interesting, or say, slapstick than you actually are. Oh! And the guitar with that pose in which you hold it, try at least faking some chord, otherwise it is plain enough for even an arse to make out that you are making a fool of yourself. So just piss off.

I shall write the entire thing. I wrote about the status and the smart Alec. I wrote it immediately after he smartly posted something. He gives another smart reply. Wait, I can just "copy, paste" the stuff. It is there at the bottom of this post, all credits to my inability to put it at the place it should have been. 

One of my friends just deleted his account, to prevent himself from the curse of this, and the even "smarter" things happening. I was smart there too; in that conversation did you see that? Anyway, I am out of this now. I am, now, too tired to even want to write anything. But, one thing I want to write about is the audacity I showed the other day. We were waiting at the bus-stop. The bus had already left 3 minutes before its scheduled time. We unfortunately, were once again the hapless participants in this divine act of uber-punctuality. Anyhow, after waiting for, like 30 minutes, and waiting till 5 minutes after the scheduled time, all the while getting grumpy about the drivers, we see the bus. In an instinctive surge of emotions, I point towards my wrist, looking at the driver, fully aware of the fact that he is reciprocating my glance. He passes a dry chuckle. I freeze, then and there. That was that.

Another thing I want to write about, or may be put forth as a question, is the number of hours that one cannot speak anything, not think of anything, and all the while, not do anything. I did that for almost 12 hrs the other day and then again 3 hrs recently. Digression. My supervisor made a joke about Bihar and not flying over its airspace, and I reciprocated it with childhood picnics and rabindra sangeet. Even Steven. I was supposed to get my payment today, and I apparently got 300 euro less. The "taai" (read the secretary) did her bit to make sure that I got my travel reimbursements. For the last three days, not one of the three of us is doing anything constructive for the project. We have stopped thinking about the stuff that we had arrived here with the intention of working on from day one. The group is on the verge of knowing the fact that I have done nothing and know nothing about computer.

We went to Belgium the other weekend. I did not get time to talk of my travels. That was the most enjoyable trip. Correction. That could have been the most enjoyable trip. First, we miss the early morning train. Next, we reach Brussels at noon. We leave the most bustling city that I had seen in Europe within three hours, for some douche-bag, who was coming with the intention of roaming around in Belgium and The Netherlands at 2pm, in Brussels. The douche-bag does not arrive. I upgrade him. You can always ask about the new rank that I assigned to him. We reach Bruges. Wonderful city. We roam around. Go to a park to catch up with some embarrassing Indian cultural stuff. Then there is this immensely effective psychedelic stuff, followed by Dum Maro Dum on the trumpets. I feel elated. We leave Belgium without visiting the Atomium, and many other places that we knew existed but did not care to bother about. We roam around in the station. We watch a boring football match, and howl in the train, sitting on the floor. We reach Amsterdam at 1in the morning. The Sri-Lankan...ok, what happens in Amsterdam, stays in Amsterdam. We meet the douche bag in the district, gazing at the canals. We sleep on the streets, and have a hard time finding the I AMSTERDAM. The douche bag has to leave and that has basically screwed up our schedule. We leave Amsterdam at 10 am. Reach at our place and sleep.

The next weekend, we had to go to Paris. The people in the lab made dirty jokes about that. We did not get reservations. We somehow reach Paris at noon. We see the Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Concord, the Sacre Coeur, the Moulin Rouge, the play-off for the third place, the Eiffel, the five ugly girls of our institute with another douche-bag and a sardar. We sleep and wake up at 10:30 in the morning. Take the train to Amsterdam and reach "I AMSTERDAM", this time quite easily, to cheer for the Oranje. We are stuffed amongst the white and the black, the dopers and the smokers and other ugly people. We leave the match to reach back home, Oranje lose, we find our way through rivers of urine, reach our place at 3:30 in the morning, give a presentation for, where I keep talking for 1 hour, when I was supposed to talk for 10 mins, work and then sleep. Did I tell, that was the Friday when I wrote about the Lepidus.

The supervisor realizes that nothing is going to come out of this project. We work on a Sunday. I mean, they work and chat. No results. We are invited to the dinner at our supervisor's. Nice food they served. We are next invited to a friend's (Bram's) place, remember the fat clown I mentioned in one of the posts? We are supposed to be the hosts, and prepare the dinner for what became 9 people, when it was supposed to be 4. I play the guitar after three months, and it feels nice to see my hands still flowing on the piece of wood and strings. Oh! Saturday, we the people of Maanstraat 73, (my place) went for a barbecue, where we did not barbecue anything, swam in the lake, fooled around, and came back. But it was a nice evening. Bram's was nicer. Today, we decided to cook with the Nepalese, for the flat mates. We, oh! Please read they, cooked kheer, chawal, daal, aaloo and roti (readymade), and we had some beer as well. Nice evening again.

I have been sleeping on the couch for, I don't know how long. It is time for me to sleep. Till the next post, haven fun. Cheers to this "socially networked" "facelife".

What Crap!





Vivek Sharma Status and smart alecs.

Sunday at 13:06 ·  · 
Ambuj Singh
Ambuj Singh
i feel most f da facepeople here have masters in dis trade!!or i dunno y dey try to show dat dey are born wid a superior gene?a big question comes to min "why?"
Sunday at 14:51 ·  · 
Vivek Sharma
Vivek Sharma
like you said, you need balls to figure that out, if you get what i mean ;)
Sunday at 14:55 ·  · 
Ambuj Singh
Ambuj Singh
i guess u just need more dan balls to find da effing thought process:)
Sunday at 15:02 ·  · 
Vivek Sharma
Vivek Sharma
then i guess you won't ever be able to find your "EFFING" thoughts...once again, if i am not cryptic ;)
Sunday at 15:04 ·  · 
Ambuj Singh
Ambuj Singh
depends may b diamond fr sm1 or just a stone fr da layman!!!!!! hope u also get da secre behind so cald"effing" thoughts...no pun intended....
Sunday at 15:09 ·  · 
Vivek Sharma
Vivek Sharma
pardon me my wits, but if i got that, it would not be fitting to call it a secret. would you mind explaining the diamonds and the stones ???
Sunday at 15:14 ·  · 
Ambuj Singh
Ambuj Singh
i dont think i run a chapel to burn sm1 else thot process... again secret is only till itz understood by sm1..den itz upto u.. after dat da consequences depends on da particular!!! n az far az diff. between diamond n stone iz concernd..!!itz relly hard to b a diamond in dis rhinestone world..being smart smtimes seems daffy..no doubt it still seems attractive:)
Sunday at 15:22 ·  · 
Vivek Sharma
Vivek Sharma
‎1) i never said that
2) convolution
3) :D
Sunday at 15:28 ·  · 
Ambuj Singh
Ambuj Singh
i guess convulSION wd b wat u want to say...my motive waz never 2 correct ur spelling mistake fr nw... bt just feel da metaphor:))... thn may b wd b my fault interpreting u n bt evn dere's a chance that u have a facade thot...no offence;)))
Sunday at 16:34 ·  · 
Vivek Sharma
Vivek Sharma
‎1) i wrote what i wanted to
2) even then, the situation you put me in satisfies what you suggested
3) convulsion (laughter)
4) i have difficulty in making out shortened expressions
5) what's is a facade thought (is it thought?)
Sunday at 16:41 ·  · 
Ambuj Singh
Ambuj Singh
‎5) depends!!!!can evn b an oxymoron.... 4)sure 3)sure 2)thanx 4)da world iz urs.....write it or rub it;)
Sunday at 17:54 ·  · 
Vivek Sharma
Vivek Sharma
‎4) you start sharing the world once you start communicating with someone. So the world is not JUST YOURS. Cleaning up the mess is always good though.


where are you nowadays?
Sunday at 20:25 ·  · 
Ambuj Singh
Ambuj Singh
‎5)yupa agree..but i guess dere are certain limits...n evn smart moves never say "show da ace"..bcz if itz done people gonna dig ur a $#... nywaz... well fr nw at bhagalpur.. n m pursuing ma grad. in techie at bbsr!!!..wat abt u?
Monday at 05:41 ·  · 
Vivek Sharma
Vivek Sharma
guwahati....4th year engg.
Monday at 12:07 ·  · 
Ambuj Singh
Ambuj Singh
great...well saw netherlands written over dere?up fr internship or is it some exchange programme or smthing?
Monday at 13:26 ·  · 
Vivek Sharma
Vivek Sharma
internship.
Monday at 16:21 ·  · 

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Sonnet V


Petrarchan verse, I tried to write,
When Milton's words I read, contrite.
The English verse then followed suit,
With sonnets four, that wrought no fruit.
And then I tried to mix them all,
Composing lines, every nightfall.
Struggling with the metre and forms,
And trying hard to stick to norms,
I seek some help, my teacher, from.
And when she spoke, she spoke a psalm.
She asked me my own words to sing.
And free myself of what has been.
Enlightenment. A halo bright.
Unfettered, I'll, my own verse, write.



Thursday, July 1, 2010

Sonnet IV


Embittered, alas, mine heart, doth regret.
Why, say, I beseech, eynes smothered in rheum
What reason maketh your mind, of this prune
Disdain? Did thou, all that thou swore, forget?
Selfless, oh! my love profound, begets none
Of thine. So, tell me, priceless, durst thou not
Upright to thyself be. Now know I not
How not to loathe your heart, the heart of stone.
Benighted, haply I conceive, sweven,
A Spell, blithe and blissful. Then in my mind
Methinks, I crave for your embrace, and fain.
And wherefore bemoans mine blunted reason,
The bygone? Love is no love when doth find
Hate, with passing time. Love it is, not pain.

 

Saturday, June 26, 2010

The Usual Ranting.


I think I made a massive mistake. I could have abandoned the idea of a euro trip in the favor of attending my sister’s marriage.

I am bored of everything that Europe has to offer. Call it indifference towards anything that is vintage, picturesque or grand; call it indifference towards the excitement of the city centers, the air of the narrow cobbled streets, old buildings, museums (I have been to none, though). Whatever. No matter how grand or nice or picturesque a place is, you can't keep enjoying it forever. I can't. I have been to Rotterdam, the city with perhaps the most striking architecture in the Netherlands, I have been to the Hague and the famous beach, the grand buildings, I have seen the most picturesque sceneries on this planet, Swiss Alps and the famous lakes, the crazily expensive Zurich, the quiet Interlaken and the bubbling Lucerne, I have seen perhaps the best example of Gothic architecture, the Kolner Cathedral and the best mix of past and the modern in city of the eau de cologne, Koln. I have climbed to the top of Europe, and witnessed the snowfall in the Alps. I have seen the unbelievably high price tags, be it food items or anything, and i have eaten burgers for 1 euro as well. I have walked with the rough Germans, the suave French, the chic Italians, the cheerful Dutch and the omnipresent Chinks and Bhartiyas. I have been labeled a Sri Lankan myself, thanks to some of my friends. I have had the first taste of beer as well, and the first experience of a football match in the Swiss bar. I have rubbed shoulders cheering for the Dutch Oranje, and rubbed the dishes trying to have a clean container for my food. I have...what not.

I am late. Five days.

I wonder why I never talk of work on this blog. I have come to this sex capital for gaining a global exposure…and the fortune that is, I am here in the university, doing nothing but justifying the theory that a European internship is nothing more than a free euro trip. I have the advantage of poor communicators as the project partners, and that gives me the required amount of space to express my involvement to the supervisor. All I do is guzzle cups and cups of hot chocolate, use the free, fast internet, pretend to be working the entire time, some smooth talking and bingo…you have 700 Euros in your pocket every month. The only aberration is that I have barely received 300, and the second month comes to a close. The disadvantage is that you have a topper as your co-researcher, and a very sincere, but overly expressive and unnecessarily (ir)responsible friend as the roommate. The apartment is completely Asian, and the head tenant is pissed off with the fact that we have not paid the rent for the month of June when we promised to do so in the first week. The secretaries in the university, who are supposed to help us get out payments are on leave half of the days and when they are present they, in their loose blouses and tight trousers, forget they are supposed to work and not just banter around foolishly. Not to mention that they more often than not forget their age. The couple of Indians who we met here are all jerks…no, let’s elevate them to being douche-bags. The city shuts down 6pm sharp everyday and I cannot even roam around in the market place. I had to buy those ugly shoes that day, partly because of the relatively cheaper tag that it was carrying. Someone told me I should get a girl here. Phew!!!

The weather is getting uglier with every progressing hour. The temperatures are touching 27 and the humidity is rising. Unbearable. But I have to write about the trip to Switzerland. The horn was blown on Thursday, which normally should have been a Friday evening. Thursday it was when we went out to the Centrum, in hope of seeing some good shops in the market place and some attractive faces as well. But again, and this time I myself am tired of writing this time and again, due to the fellow researchers, we only managed to reach the market at around 7:45. The market closes 8:30. All we can pull of is a decent Canon camera for Manoj, a pair of FILA shoes for me and nothing for Mudit. I was looking for some cheap music player but could not find one. Then we had a massive debate about middle class mentality, two on one debate with absurd points being raised, (I was fighting alone) like Wagon R being a status symbol and the debaters forgetting the points I was fighting for. The debate started with the statement that the middle class does not have food to eat and they are wasting money on branded items. I contested on this ground, the absurdity of having no money to eat and forgetting this very fact. The others very howling on points that no body dies of hunger. Yeah I know this is unimaginative and I am being a bit selfish in writing this. Only after three days was I to realize that my own family has let me down in this debate. Anyhow, then began another boring cooking session, and the usual adoration of self made things, when they actually are not. The chapattis were bad, the subzi that we had, the aaloo-shimla mirch one was sweet (and they told it is actually sweet) and the dal (this was real tasty) with some rice was the only nice thing. Mudit got some cranberry juice, and I reminded him of the Departed scene. That was it for Thursday.

Friday morning started at 11:00, and I could get only seven hours of free internet. Once again, when we had to leave early, they delayed, and with the assists of the Dutch drivers, dressed in the best of formals, and particularly aware of the value of flying time, to an extent that they were running ahead of the schedule, we missed the train. The wait was painful. It was getting colder, we were shivering, and to add to the bitterness of the environment, there was a German who made mockery of the fact that I do not know Dutch or German. We arrived at the German station at 10:00 and had to wait till 1:30 in the morning. The wait was not pleasant either, when I was carrying the heavy bag, the wind was cold, and the conductors did not know English. We were invited to an orgy, which after politely declining, we readily accepted only to know that it had not yet begun. Damn.

Saturday began with the smartass Indian, from IIT R, and his smartass talking, some glimpses of the Koln cathedral, a foolish conductor, a chilly Frankfurt airport, the bustling Basel station and then the Sri Lankans (read, the friends, and other Indians). We exchanged some euros for some francs (swiss) and set off for Lucerne. The journey gave us some good time, and time for some sandwiches. Switzerland has Indians littered everywhere. Sorry. Asians would be better. Or even better would be saying that more than 90% of the tourists there are from the subcontinent and the Indi-Chinese region. Anyhow, the trip was a nice one, to Mt. Titlis. It was raining at the foot of the hill, and there was the snowstorm on the top. Enjoyable. That’s it. Then came Lucerne. Nothing of a city, but still very lively. Vintage buildings, casions, restaurants, the nice lake and the attractive crowd. And mind you all of this comes with a price tag. The boat trip would have seemed very gay, unless we took some supper in the restaurant on the cruise. But again, everything comes with a price tag. We got down at the next stop, went into a kebap shop and got some kebabs. Nice food, they served. I envy those who went to Lauterbrunnen, for they saw Rivendell. For us, we went to Zurich, on the chic street, outside the bar made some noise, went back to the hostel and slept.

Sunday: Woke up, dropped some bricks, and bingo we were on the station for free. Missed the train we were supposed to catch, and reached Interlaken only half an hour later. On the station I realized that I was being thought of as a Sri Lankan. The old lady, who watched the group eat like gluttons, kept on laughing. At the station, when I waved to her, she came up to me and asked if I was from Sri Lanka. Man, I was blown off. I do not think you find people of such fair skin complexions in Sri Lanks. On revealing my nationality, she did a very brisk Namaste. That was more acceptable, from the nice, cheerful woman. After roaming around for nothing, in the vicinity of the station, we traversed the golden pass route and I personally was extremely bored of sightseeing. Back to Lucerne. Back to Zürich. There in that street, we see three strip clubs, and the people, the Nepalese and the Sri Lankan go crazy. Manoj and I take a more conscientious stand. The timings were from 20:00, and the Sri Lankan had to go back to Deutschland. Back to the station. Got some burgers and chips, for him. There, while waiting for the train, a group of girls, young, I would prefer calling them children, comes to us and the first thing they say to one of us is: I love you. Wow. But children. Shit. Anyhow, the one they were talking to started his sentences. And became the object of mockery. I was eating some bread, and they were constantly looking at me. No, the first thing they asked was our age. Cool. I thought one of us was going to get laid. And then out of the blue comes Fuck you. Fuck you child, don’t you dare swear. They get a boy, hardly 14, and tell him to be the boyfriend who does not like them talking to us. And boom…are you from Sri Lanka?? By then I knew who was the Sri Lankan. Manoj quietly whispered, “They like you I guess”. I was dumbstruck at their behavior. They were sober and they were talking like insane. Namaste soon followed. And then, a hasty farewell. Phew!!! Tough day. We went back and staring at the bar and the strip clubs on the either side of the road, I decided to go for a beer in the bar than seeing the ladies strip. Swiss people are not football crazy and half the customers ordered coke. I felt like a fool. I had ordered a Carlsberg. After the boring 45 minutes, we went back to the station, and took a pee in every possible train we could. Shouting AUSGANG any random moment and laughing, making fun of the Nepalese, till the point that he declared that we were under the influence of alcohol, we started the trip to Koln.

Monday: the Nepalese plays Nothing Else (Metallica)…and a German comes and asks him to send the song over the Bluetooth. He cannot. I ask if she wants some Indian songs. She runs away. He is pissed off, searches the whole train to find her and sends her the shitty Zombie (cranberries) instead. We wake up to find Koln asleep. Nothing on the streets. No toilets. Somehow, the clock strikes 9:00 and we enter the Cathedral, the most remarkable gothic architecture I think I will ever see, climb to the top of it, 100m, climb down and roam around in the street. I feel like a stupid not having bought the eau de cologne. Germany is the cheapest European country, because you get subway sandwich for 2.5 euros and a McD for 1 euro. We then went to Bonn, alighted the train, changed the platforms, and boarded the train back to Koln. There, changed platforms and boarded the train to Amsterdam. The Indians in the train, on their vacation from the US, had a stopover in Dusseldorf, and they suggested us to see the BMW factory. They forgot that donning Giorgio Armani or Prada alone does not grant you the wisdom. We started laughing and did not stop until Utrecht.

It feels nice to be back at home. It felt nice. Everything is relaxed again. The typical Dutch air is so soothing. The week was unusually exhausting. We had skipped Monday, assuming that the project supervisor would take it easy. Instead he summons us into his office and behind the Gucci specs, talks about faith, trust, childishness, immaturity and what not. Yeah, he tells us who we are and reminds us our financial position. That marks the beginning of some epiphany that renders my roomie numb and dumb. He goes to bed at 21:00. Then comes the major threat, the event of the week. I am doing the dishes, when a sleepy land lady comes to me and demands the rent for the month of June. Crazy. I try to explain things and she refuses to understand. I try to talk clever but she very bluntly states the option of throwing us out of the house if we do not pay the rent. I talk to the secretary, who is more concerned about showing off her cleavage than doing her administrative duties and behind the Bvlgari shades, she says everything is done. Amazing precision.

Swiss rightly deserves to be called Chhota Bharat, and thanks to the huge Indian community there, I never felt like I was not in Bihar (on the railway platform for that matter. They were sitting on the floor, with their sheets spread and enjoying the picnic). Tomorrow is another new task. Brussels awaits the Sri Lankan horde. Come whoever may, the Flemish or the Walloons, the battlefield of Waterloo is fresh and ready as ever.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

October Sky (Drawing on Opeth)


In the darkness, Her Shadows caress my soul…
In desperation nested inside my pain.
The October sky with the naked stars…
Screaming for spirits to light my way.
I am fading away in the passing moment,
In the ashes of fire I cannot prevent
The glory behind the martyr black
Wreathes around my naked neck.
I see through her silhouette towards the sky
The madness of dusk, it just drives me blind.
Creeping halos of flashing lamps
And biting frost, begin to grind
The dreams that we shared.

Walk with me for the one last time

The darkness, it’s growing again.
It’s cold in here.
My shadow, it dampens,
My skin, bit by the sharp rime.
The forest closes around me, in herds of trees,
Of frightened faces, staring at the moor.
The dawn and the still water, the meadows await
The sound, the touch of your footsteps

My eyes, to your mute portrait, attach.

The warmth of your eyes gives me hope of the dawn
The gush of your breath holds me tight.
Hold my hand, towards the horizon
Walk with me for that one last time
Where raining in hopes, moonlight they harvest.
Where we set ablaze the passion,
And vanish in the snuff of the candle light.

Rid of me of my demons tonight
Clasp me in love that is undying
Kiss me, and let me die.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Laid To Rest


Whoever appeals to the law against his fellowman is either a fool or a coward. Whoever cannot take care of  himself without that law, is both. For a wounded man shall say to his assailant, "If i live, I will kill you. If I die, you are forgiven". Such is the fucking rule of Honor.

God. Lamb of the fucking God is one band you do not want miss the live show of. They are five crazy fellas who can pay a prostitute 30 pounds for cleaning their van topless. They are five people who can break any fucking neck without even touching it. They are five fuckers who literally fuck the crowd with their performance. Thursday, 10th of June 2010 goes down as one of my most memorable nights as an audience to a music event. Lamb of God are the biggest thrash metal band on this planet.

It was at first a major surprise to find that a band as popular as Lamb of God is was touring India. And I was one of those unlucky ones who were going to miss it. But this thought was not uncomfortable. I knew I would be in Europe and that come June and I will get to see some of the biggest gigs. And after coming to Europe and bemoaning the fact that none of the sonisphere shows are going to be in The Netherlands, I was heartbroken. But there is always the Messiah, the Lamb of God. Only that this time it literally was. I came to know this when I was randomly going through the websites of the most popular music halls in Hengelo, the sexy Metropool. And they had a very casual mention of Lamb Of God. My goodness...i could not stop gazing at the screen for at least 5 minutes. With a capacity of hardly 850 metal heads, how does LOG fare? And was it actually true? I searched the web for anything connected to LOG and Hengelo and found nothing. Finally I decided to visit their webpage and much to my delight, they had the mention of Hengelo on their page. Fucking awesome. I was delighted. And I am still thrilled.

I saw the ticket price and it was 22 bucks. This was out of equations. Why were they touring so cheaply? More shocked than excited, I anyhow bought the tickets. Interestingly, I woke up half an hour early to buy the tickets, and reached the university 1 fucking hour late. No issues, though, and not a care. I felt like I was the richest man in the world. I have been listening to the online radio for almost 25 continuous days now and was totally bored with their playlist. This was going to be one heck of a night and I knew it. One thing that did not go well down with me was the reason why they were touring Hengelo, and in an indoor area, with 22 buck tickets? Perhaps a promotional tour for their new album.

We were at the place on time, and hardly had we entered, when we started hearing screams and blasting drums. I was going insane in that atmosphere. People, booze, smoke, piercings, leather, punks...odor, music and screams...but this was not LOG. Definitely not. They do not have this many number of breaks within their songs, neither is the drumming so dull. The vocals are not clean and the guitar riffs are damn heavy. And this was just at the entry. I rushed up to the Jupiler stage. It was Kudra Mata, the local band with some new stuff. They were cool...the bassist was very natural and the drums came very easily to the drummer. One very interesting thing was that they had a complex song structure with multiple meters within single songs. The drumming breaks were well done and the vocals were strong. The guitarist, I thought was not as proficient. There were no guitar solos, and the band’s sound rode heavily on the drums. The monotony of the songs was what perhaps ruined their moment. But still thumbs up to them for their headlining act. They had laid all the pins and someone had to set the ball rolling. And it was Lamb of God.

The concert began with their song "In your words"...and the ball was set rolling. Crazy riffs, fast tempos and very subtle and puritan drumming. "Set to Fail" similarly, was not the typical LOG song I thought, since the vocals were remarkably different. The drums were the same (cool, sharp and fast as usual), thanks to the great Chris Adler, and the groovy riffs made the air very thumping. They had half done their job. The only thing that was lest was their customary and legendary songs. "Walk with me in hell" is the classic song where they use Randy's powerful vocals and Morton's guitars to express the lyrics. "Something to die for" is one of my favorite songs, and they made sure they did not change anything about it. The thrashing of the drums and the intense growling and then the nice tempos make it a head banger's delight. "Hourglass" is a very difficult song to perform live, and Adler rightly admits so. But they are Lamb of God. The man on the wheel chair was the hero of the night with his undying love for metal and thrash. He had come to watch LOG perform when he could not move his hands or legs. And believe me, he rocks, and LOG made sure he enjoyed every bit of the show. He was on the stage with them. Cool. Somebody challenged Randy; it seemed from his tone and then came "Contractor", a real fast song. I was almost neckless by that time. They had given us the ultimate treat of metal. They had performed their classics with and their new stuff. It was time for some serious motherfucking shit. Followed next, "Laid to Rest", the rule of honor, "Omerta", the motherfucking invitation to the "Rednecks" and the one I had never heard before, "Vigil". The series was real loud and groovy. To round it up with a fucking circle pit, they did the real speed metal "Black Label". Pure thrash, pure speed and pure head bangers' ball. No other band can do such things with such ease, such feel and such effect as LOG.


The vocalist had grown his hair, the others seemed to be Dumbledores, the crowd was fucking dedicated with every person singing every word with the vocalist, banging their heads in frenzy and screaming, guzzling the unlimited booze flowing in that hall. The metal fucking heads, with all the leather, studs and piercings, the punks with their hair weirdly done, the tall sturdy guys doing the circle pit and the man on the wheel chair...Willie's plectrum and the playlist...awesome. I just missed out on the trademark flag that the band uses. Shit.