Minced Me

Monday, February 16, 2015

The urgency behind this post has a reason, it triumphed the internal dialogue which was 'should I acknowledge the consciousness or should I pretend like there was nothing to it'. The latter was a weak argument for the lack of substance/intoxication in my system. Naturally, the conscience gave in to the consciousness and here's a fool, at the back of the Apple, wondering how to start.

You know those moments when you're dying to tell someone something and do not know the right way to initiate it? This post is exactly that. I have a full body in my mind and no beginning, or for that matter an ending.

Complexities aside, I decided to attend a festival in Delhi, which was to be an amalgamation of food, drinks, welcoming the Spring/Summer with art and music. The venue was Garden of Five Senses, apt in a way that it represents this part of the crowd which was anticipated to attend. Highbrow, in the midst of the manicured rural with the touch of 'Dilli' and, I must praise the organizers for getting the vibe. It was spot on, chilled beer, fun indie acts (which have been around since I've been christened a teenager and adding to those, the better newer ones), delectable selection of snacks (white wine sangria popsicle, jalapeno poppers, the likes) and some overpriced shopping by indie labels [I am broke (that's a brand, yup)]. In the midst of all this, I found myself living a simulated version of all that's gone down on this blog from circa 2007 (sorry, no access to those posts now) till today. All of anciliary characters, people who comprised to be a part of my memory, as representation figures from a certain moment/period/event were present and I've had the fortune to see them again, under one sky.

The entire festival was modelled like a Delhi University 'Fest', wherein, you'd see familiar faces over the span of two days and ignore them (inspite of knowing all about their turbulent pasts, ex-lovers, their spats, unwanted pregnancies-everything). Picture this, we're exiting the venue and this hammered couple is walking in front of us, stopping and bidding goodbyes to everyone- from empty water bottles on the security table to the guard to even us. Madeline's friend (features writer for a fancy publication) responded with a wide grinned 'good night', while I crossed a certain someone who crashed my birthday this year (and went on to become the most talked about 'personality' of the fucking year). I stopped and said hello, only to see him awkwardly acknowledge and shake my hands infront of his girlfriend (whose existence has been known to us via Facebook). Then there was, the proverbial love of my life (circa 2007-2010) who was involved in the festival (cannot reveal anymore, it'll be a dead giveaway). Turns out, one from the larger circle we were sitting with announced how she dated him for a while (and dumped him). So much fun, as recall value thinking about the time I was 18 and was so thrilled to see him (giveaway!).

Speaking of music (or was I?), the entire gang of Christmas Party (circa 2010-2011) and the people who constituted those Thursdays (at HRC) were present with (now) spouses! Exclamation mark because when did I get this old to know people with wives and husbands? The old band rebranded themselves (newer names, pop covers with harmony) and played the same music. I'll cut them some slack because one of their core member's down with what they're suspecting to be swine flu. Instead, they're joined by Knee-Kill, who also happens to be one of the rare few who's seen me 'grow', with my work, colleges and all that included in those two. KK's 'fuckin' stoned' face and rhetoric was as sharp as ever. The bunch I was with for most part of their music was frowning and cringing, but there's something called as a recall value, nostalgia if you may and the familiarity of the harmonies, stage antics. That odd unshapely feeling is 'love' or well, all that you've lived in the past couple of years, fondly. That aside, there was the man that shaped my music between 2012-2014, the reason I was 'shoved' to make it on the second day. I still can't make up my mind about how I feel about him betraying me with his new album (which is over processed crap). Think of his EP as a gooey slice of cake and his album as digitally processed junk/ Pizza Hut's pizzas, if you may. His fan base has gotten stronger, and I can imagine a few songs doing that. In addition to these two, there was my act for 2014-present, electro-pop-disco-cabaret all in one with electrifying energy on stage. That unstoppable vibe in contrast to the last act that I left midway, the jazz trio that had me from 2011-2013. That jazz trio minus the core member, who's been associated with me in strange ways that goes beyond the explanation that I can trace here.

The only, rather, the biggest pet peeve at the festival was the people I encountered and hung out with. Good god, what is the fucking obsession with the word hipster and why would you use it to describe all things black or white with it? Case in point-

Friend's friend- "That cafe is so cute. It's adorable!"
Friend's friend's boyfriend- "Yeah, it's like located in such a place no one would have thought about it."
Friend's friend (or was it friend?)- "It's in such a hipster spot.

Friend- "Why are there so many hipsters? Ugh."
Friend's friend- "I know, right. Also, how about some kale juice now that we've gone to loving fruit flavoured popsicle?"

Friend's friend- "OMG! *insert the 'new-hipster' favourite band's name* is performing. Me and *insert her boyfriend's name* are going to sit on the grass. Like hipsters. Hahahaha. We're such hipsters, we will sit on the grass.

The whole day was spent in a stressful state of discussing the 'hipsters' (god bless their soul). I don't know if I am growing old and incapable of taking nonsense but this was by far, a painful group to hang out with. Kids with new found freedom (courtesy 1mbps internet) trying to learn about 'being edgy' by being fools. Other, daddy's dolls and la-di-dahs of the social circle, which I suppose has far stronger validation than indie idiots because of their bending towards standing out and failing miserably. If I had a pair of jeans for everytime someone brought up 'how far and godawful shady the venue' was, I'd be richer than a CK factory. Agreed, the venue isn't easy to access but given the landscape, the lighting, the set-up, no other place in Delhi would have looked that good by the night. I love the fact the lot gets to judge each other and a few others without realizing how utterly delirious they all are, with their understanding of the ways of the world, outside and, inside the fucking gig venue. You may be aware of the fad of buying domain names to garner employment, however, you're unaware of the fact that the biggest turn off while recruitment is self-garnered narcissism around your work (especially if you're in social science). If the person loves you for all that you're putting down (and I'm taking about you, hipsterho) then, that person and you deserve to be together.

The weekend was a good way to reflect at the people and things I've been with, and how they're much better than what I am with currently. Who knows in the future to come, I'll have to deal with much worse. But then again, what good is not taking up the chance of parting ways now as opposed to dealing with it all your prime years.

I will digress but this cannot proceed without an anecdote. Some two odd years ago, May and I met a senior on our way to bunking out. We stopped to discuss the certain professor, who'd come for one semester only and teach one batch this sorcery he called 'visual communication'. There'd been a long tradition of bad-mouthing and a certain reputation the professor had acquired over time. The senior went on record to tell us that after attending the first class, he ran to the washroom and vomited all over the place. The legend is that, his class made him so sick that he had to vomit out. A la Cady Heron.

This post would have come out 10 minutes faster had I not taken a break to vomit while typing this out. I kid you not, hipsterrhea is a real disease and I've taken sick under it. As I od on churan, I'll leave a souvenir on my exit tonight. The little capsule of history with the song is that for the last three Valentine's (2013-2015), I've heard this band perform live, this track and many others. I'd like to believe this isn't a coincidence. I'll let you speculate if you must.

Beware of Hipsters- Mean Girls in 2015.  

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