It matters who you are

Front & Back

S: Why the hell do they have white boards in the front and yellow boards at the back of cars here in the UK?
N: Because that is how we identify which side the front is and which side the back is?

Mine & Yours

My experiments with music

My sister attended dance classes when she was a little girl. My mum, being an equal opportunity mother, wanted me to pursue a vocation. The result was a gorgeous Givson box guitar and guitar classes with one of the boarding school's brothers - saintly men with a ghastly sense of discipline. However, the class timings clashed with my playtime and I made every excuse to make him sit by himself at the class. He also tried to teach me tunes from film songs; which my unmusical self thought was not the way to learn music. So spiders used my guitar as their nesting ground.

In the meantime, our 'band' was placed second at the inter-school light music competition. Now, I will tell you how to win a second place at an inter-school light music competition. First, the competition has to be held in your own school. Second, your school must be fighting for an overall points position and your event should make or break your school's chances of clenching the trophy. Third, you must have one good musician and singer in your band. Fourth and the most important, you must have the innate ability to sync your lips to what your lead musician sang. The second place is yours.

I took my box guitar every time I went to college after the holidays. It did not create the kind of impression I was pushing for with the girls. Every year, The Don strung the same few Tamizh tunes he learnt when he was a kid and Kattu Pulla strummed the only two lines he knew from Metallica. And then the guitar disappeared.

It was years before my musical quest resurfaced again recently. One of my colleagues suggested I browse ebay to find bicycle deals. One search led to another and before long I had purchased an 3X2 feet India flag, The Satanic Verses and an Electronic keyboard. I also decided that I must take the bus and abandon my bicycle persuits.

Currently, like a true patriot in a foreign land, I have hung the flag in my room. The novel; I will not do injustice to the four other novels I had bought before this one. So it will have to wait.

How can you learn to play the keyboard without an instructor? And my last instructor was not very good. My housemate, who is a teacher, advised me that 'those who can do, do. And those who can't, teach.' I believed in him and in my new distrust towards teachers, bought an online course module to teach myself.

This is an expensive keyboard. And I have to make the most of it. Or atleast I have to let other people know that I own an expensive keyboard. So I buzzed one of my friends on Skype video and showed him my new sleek gadget.

Though he knew my musical history, he insisted I play him a tune or two. People. You can not play a music instrument without being trained. It is worse than some people ask 'So; you learnt French as your second language in classes 11 and 12! Why don't you say something in French?' 'Le F@#$ O^&'

But.

Lessons for life No: 0470: Never let other people know what you can not do.
Lessons for life No: 553: Know where the Demo button is on the keyboard.

And so I secretly pressed the demo button and pretended to play while he immersed himself in the joys of music.

The last ride

It will be unfair to let go of Snowwhite into oblivion without acknowledging what she was to me. I remember the day she arrived in the train - glittering black, dressed in jute and cardboard. I then only theoretically knew to ride a motorcycle and all the practice was to come in the busy roads of Chennai. I did very well, crashing her only once into a Premier Padmini at a signal in Mount road. I forgot how to work the break!

From then until last November, Snowwhite was through my thick and thin. On bright, sunny and light Saturdays, we ambled around the city in pure joy. The early morning rides were a delight as we pierced through the cool winds and raced monstrous machines. When I have had my lean moments, we pushed ourselves to the limits, sending us into states of ecstasy and indescribable trance. The first 100 and the many 100s will always be memorable.

I knew it would only be fitting if we did one last long ride before I left. So we drove from Chennai to Bangalore.

It took a while to get out of Chennai. However, it was all fun once we were on the highway. The 50s in the outskirts turned to 80s. We broke journey for breakfast and then the speed perched up a notch higher, constantly kicking the 100 marker.

You know the feeling when facing a new and challenging situation? - The not my comfort zone feeling? And then you grill through and have enough of it until that hyper state becomes a normal comfort state. The nervous jitters at the beginning when the speedometer struck 100 was soon gone. The 'will Snowwhite take a puncture' or 'will I skid her off the road' questions were soon forgotten. And soon, we were cruising a little over 110. It was a breeze. But we never got further than that. That was her physical limit.

While we reached Bangalore in a little less than four and half hours, Arun's stupendous directional skills meant that it took over seven hours in total to get to his cousin's place.

It was a very satisfying ride. I rode to my heart's content and now, it was okay to let go of Snowwhite. She had saved her best for the last ride. It was evident when I calculated how much petrol she consumed during the trip. She could only do a 35 kms per litre while she usually does 50.

It is going to be very challenging for her especially with Arun and D together. Their combined m(m=we)ight broke his Yamaha's axle. But she will be alright.