You have a choice-Either read the review or scroll down and skip straight to the photoblog inspired by inception.

Once in a while there comes a movie that pervades every one's thought like a pandemic virus. A virus which is as resilient and infectious as an idea, to take Nolan's own words. And Inception was one of those path breaking ideas condensed in the form of a 2.5 hour long script and played out by some of the most capable actors of our generation.

The whole movie takes place inside the head. It takes place in real locations built up by the brain during those hours when our limbs take rest and eyes are shut to the distractions of the world. Really, we are at our best when we sleep. Other than the obvious advantage of not being a pain in the ass for those around you, its when we use our idle useless mind the most. We travel the whole wide world, we romance the girl of our dreams, we fight wars, we become heroes...and most of it is never gonna happen for real. But still we cherish some of those dreams trying hard to remember the sequence of it all, failing badly most of the times. And it is this private place of ours where Nolan does his magic. He takes us to the world where ideas can be stolen from your head during one of your innocent wet dreams. And most shockingly, a world where ideas can be planted. Its possibilities are immense. What if you woke up one day with an idea of killing your neighbour, an idea planted by his enemy in your head? Or what if you woke up one day with an idea to destruct a govt establishment, an idea planted by a terrorist? Yes, its a world where one could outsource the dirty work for free, without the executioner even knowing it and without ever making your hands dirty.

But this whole plot is a sure recipe for disaster if handled by a lesser film maker. It would've looked like an episode of gadget guru, with all the great gadgets making its appearance in every scene. But Nolan takes this to another level and explains it convincingly with his multi level dream architecture. He tells us how one minute in the real world becomes five in the dream and one hour in the next level dream. There's also the exciting world of shared dreaming where you could be a part of somebody else's dream.And its not sci-fi alone. There's a strong human element to the story, where Cobb(Dicaprio) struggles to come to terms with his personal life, where reality and dreams are so thoroughly mixed that he can't differentiate one from another. He's a man sleepwalking through life, with a crumbled family. As he and his team does inception, he's also on a mission to clear up his own head and reclaim his own life. And it is with this balance of sci-fi and the 'human factor' that the film triumphs. Not to forget those truely fresh concepts of multi level dreaming, the timings, the kicks, the complex labyrinth like architectures, projections, the paradoxical steps, totems and what not!

One of my favourite lines from the movie is when cobb says, "Do you remember the beginning of a dream. we always start in the middle"(not exact quote.typing from memory) Its a thought which most surely wouldn't have crossed any of our minds. And it seems true. Whenever we dream, the situation is already there, perhaps recreated from our own memory. Or just built out of wild imagination. How else could we explain those weird dreams where we end up in places we have never been to. Some of my wildest dreams had terrorists pursuing me in some foreign country(what the hell they wanted I never found out), having sex with an actress I've seen only on screen(yea, really..My no.1 dream till date!) and flying a jet plane(i was still flying when I woke up). In all these cases, I dont remember how I ended up there. It was like I was air dropped straight into the foreign country, the actress's bed and on the pilot seat. Another favorite line is "dreams feel real while we're in them. Its when we wake up that we realize something was actually strange." Yes, each of the cases above felt so real. Surreal...

In this one week after the movie released, it seems the whole world has come under Nolan's spell. Anywhere you turn, people are talking about inception. Possibly, this was Nolan's inception on mankind. He must've built the complex architecture of thousands of theatres all over the world and brought us all into it through a multi level dream. And then, he left us all without giving that kick. Only for us to go on thinking and talking about inception in this limbo state. Yes, this movie will be talked about and wondered about, as long as there are movies..

Photoblog
This movie lingered on in my mind for long. Then ideas sprouted of taking some pics inspired from the movie. And so began my experiments with 30 second long shutter speed, the newly acquired tripod and 3 candles. A walk through of a scary dream...No ideas planted here..Just a meeting with myself..


The dream starts...I wake up and walk on, leaving behind me in bed...(challenging Nolan's idea that we cant remember the beginning of a dream. This might be how every dream begins)














All of the above pics were shot with a shutter speed of 30 seconds. After keeping the cam in atripod with a 2 second timer, I ran to make the necessary poses. For the pics of waking up in a dream, I spent 10 seconds each lying down, sitting up and then finally standing up. For the ones where I strangle myself and chase myself with a knife, I spend 14 seconds each in both poses. 2 seconds lost in throwing away the knife and posing the 2nd time.

your crusader Praveen

A writeup based on this news item, written for the internal blog..

Someone seems to have read George Orwell's legendary work '1984' recently. The idea of 'big brother watching over your every step and every thought' must've impressed someone higher up the order. And instead of 'big brother', we have 'big sister' watching over us. Members of her private army will scour the internet for those disobedient kids who blurt out truths which are to be suppressed. Its social un-networking at work. No more of those status updates on how smelly the toilet of your school is. No more twitter posts on how cruel and heartless your headmistress is. 140 innocent characters can make you a salary-less kid from next month. This quote which I searched out from my worn out copy of '1984' yesterday night explains the situation best-

"There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live—did live, from habit that became instinct—in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized."

Well, this might be the paragraph that led to the idea of this sudden social un-networking. But then in 1949, when this book was written, there was no internet and so there was no anonymous profiles. At best, anonymous posters used to appear at daybreak on some shop wall. But this is the time when smartasses give out their thoughts with profile names of their headmistress and headmater. Check youtube comments of some popular headmistress videos and you'll know what am talking about. With this un-networking, all that can be achieved is a sudden eruption in the number of fake profiles and anonymous posters aping the names of not only the headmistress, but the professors and assistant professors too.

In line with this wonderful initiative, we can think about some other possible future implementations...

Toilet permission
Remember those old days in school when we used to raise our hands in the middle of a classroom and asked, "Teacher, Teacher, May I go to bathroom?" So, maybe now we can send a mail 10 minutes in advance to the headmistress and ask permission to visit the 'restroom'.

Gas free zone
Although it rhymes, sadly there's no DART code for FART. So better plug the gas pipe for 9.25 hours. Or else face the consequences. Cos big brother is not only watching but listening and smelling...

Morning assembly
A weekly assembly when we can come wearing a 'uniform'. Everyone will sing that 'wretched song' in unison. Kids who did some big mischief during the past week(like stealing cubicle mate's pen, breaking coffee cup) should be called to the dias and publicly chastised.

No talking zone
Cubicles should be no talking zones. One person from each cubicle can be selected as the 'leader' or 'prefect' of the cubicle. He should write on the white board with a black marker, the names of those cubicle mates who are talking unnecessarily. This includes those who are talking on phone too. The headmistress can walk along the cubicles with a cane and punish those whose names are written on the board. Talking on phone should get 2 canings and talking to a cubicle mate should get 4 canings. Flirting will attract even severe punishments. The 2 parties will be asked to cane each other 5 times.

If all this are not enough, we can possibly consider the appointment of 'thought police', again an Orwellian idea. These two quotes will surely help in understanding the 'thought police' better- guys who will read your thoughts and punish you if you think things which you are not suppose to think.

"The thought police would get him just the same. He had committed--would have committed, even if he had never set pen to paper--the essential crime that contained all others in itself. Thoughtcrime, they called it. Thoughtcrime was not a thing that could be concealed forever. You might dodge successfully for a while, even for years, but sooner or later they were bound to get you." "It was terribly dangerous to let your thoughts wander when you were in any public place or within range of a telescreen. The smallest thing could give you away. A nervous tic, an unconscious look of anxiety, a habit of muttering to yourself--anything that carried with it the suggestion of abnormality, of having something to hide. In any case, to wear an improper expression on your face...; was itself a punishable offense. There was even a word for it in Newspeak: facecrime..."


HAIL ORWELL....


As always...unrelated PS-Dont forget to take a peek at my photoblog-myopiclenses

your crusader Praveen

She was a breath of fresh(and hot) air in the studios during those pre-match and post-match sessions. She was a beauty with brains having climbed up the ladder after hosting shows related to football for various channels unlike some dumb anchors who are dumped into the studio straight from a B grade movie set. And when beauty comes loaded with brains, it can be a heady combination. Oozing grace, she kept us all glued to the half time analysis of even highly boring matches. Its sad that she was missing in the semis...I miss the 'in-depth' analysis. I request you all to join this online petition to bring her back for the finals by signing on your screens.

The first time I heard this name, I poked some wax out of my ear and listened again. It sounded as confusing as it did before. How in the name of hell can anyone give a ball or just about anything such a stupid name? It seems the word means 'to be happy' in Zulu. But it brought anything but happiness to the poor strikers and goalkeepers, who were the victims of its unpredictability. According to the latest NASA analysis, it behaves unpredictably above a certain speed. No wonder its seen swinging in two different directions on its way to the goal post. And it has a problem in keeping low. It prefers to fly high. Only players sponsored by Adidas have supported the ball. Rumours are that it can even take a U turn.

Anyone who ever passingly watched even one of the matches of this world cup would never forget the sound that this horn makes. For some its sickening, for some others its pulsating. Numerous forwards are flying around about the origins of this instrument, the most famous being the one which states that it was used by some tribesmen to cover their manhood. If this were true, we might perhaps be witnessing the world's biggest symbolic mass bl**job, ever! The sound that this produces is said to be enough to make one deaf. Some are said to have left the stadium during halftime, unable to bear its sound. At the same time, its a sound which makes Africans swell with pride. TV channels had to use special noise isolation techniques to make their commentary heard. But at some times, the clarion call of the vuvuzela does make your hair stand...

The sun is finally shining bright over the dark continent. Though only Ghana made it to the quarters, Africa has a lot to cheer about. Hosting a tournament of such magnitude is no mean task. Pulling it off successfully with minimum of glitches deserves applause. The breathtakingly beautiful stadiums has come in for praise from all over. Though refereeing was a problem in some matches, everything went smoothly on the organising part. Mandela, that iconic symbol of African liberation was missing owing to a personal tragedy. But the spirit of the man was truely one of the driving forces of this world cup. This tournament might just end up changing the face of Africa.

Argentina might have gone out in the worst way possible. But, this man did steal the show near the touchline in Argentina'a matches. Having discarded his casual outfits, the man got into a shining suit. Sporting a beard, to cover marks made by his dog, Maradona had the aura of a messiah, much like when he was playing. His coaching methods were criticiced even before the cup. Keeping some key players out and having a weak defence didn't help matters either. What made this man different from the other coaches was his behaviour with the players. While the other biggie coaches kept that distance from the players, El diego hugged each of them tight and made sure that he was one among them. And, this new avatar is also a kind of comeback for the man who was once on the verge of death due to long time drug abuse. Had he won the world cup, this same critics who question his methods would've written reams and reams praising him. But ALAS! The only good thing is that people dont have to see him run around naked through Buenos Aires, which might have happened had Argentina won.

10 days from today, my blogging career will be 5 years old. And as the day nears, am going through my worst patch ever. As I scroll down the blog to check my last substantial entry(excluding all those travalogues and concert write ups), I see a date which came on the calender 40 days back. Though I wouldn't call this depressing, its certainly a bit alarming, considering how the words have deserted me. Not that I was churning out shakespearean classics out here in this space, but there was a certain flow and a certain confidence with which I used to sit down almost every alternate evening and type something down in notepad so that it could add to the information overload on blogs the next day. There were ofcourse passing phases which went on for a week or so and then I was back in my groove. And then came this, almost unprecedented in my life in blogs.

As I sit down and think of the various reasons, the first one I use to fool myself and all of you will be of course the world cup. Now, it started just 2 weeks back but I can always say that I was just conditioning my mind for this spectacle in the one month preceeding that. The conditioning included hunting down for the jersey(duplicate of course) of my team(Brazil) and making fun of the rival teams. This argument is of course as thin as Italy's defence line in yesterday's match. And yes, right now am stuck writing this post too. As I glance upwards I see someone trying too hard to fill space, someone trying hard to beat out big round chappathis from a very thin mix of dough. Those who are bored can stop here. Am just trying to take it out all from the system and make it flow again. You may ask, 'Why post it here, why don't you just type it out in a notepad and torture yourself?' Well, I need to because its this blog that inspires me to write and it should know when am so short of that.

Hitting a purple patch seems a distant dream. But then black patches also donot last for long. I used to give this advice to people who were having a writer's block- 'look around you. There are a million subjects to write on.' But right now when I look around, all am seeing is emptiness. A scene straight out of a sci-fi movie, with me in the middle and white space all around. In whichever direction I run, I don't see a spot. Its crystal clear. I can't even see myself, not even my hands. And no, dont make that assumption on my mental health now. I've a lot of things left to do before I take myself into an asylum. It doesn't help matters either when your head itself is an asylum. I could've taken myself to that asylum if I were the John Malkovich character in the Charlie Kauffman movie. For us lesser mortals, travelling into one's own head(or rather mind) remains an impossible affair. So, the real truth behind the blankness of my mind will remain a mystery of epic proportions. Now, let me run in search of the edge of that elusive purple patch...

your crusader Praveen

The kadalpaalam[seabridge] near the Shanghumukhom beach is one of the unmissable places on any trip to Trivandrum.It was the same this time too. Built many years back, this worn down bridge extends for some distance into the sea. Its the place to go if you want to get the feeling of being in the sea. Only this time, the bridge was the site of some violent action. The arrival of the monsoon had stirred up the sea.Waves with heights rivaling those of high rise buildings were pounding on the bridge with all its might. The age was beginning to show on the bridge.The steps on one side, where we used to sit during college days were almost fully gone. The waves were rising even above where once the steps were. When one of those mighty waves crashed, the impact could be easily felt on the birdge, a loud thud and then the slight jerk. Signs of danger. Yet, the beauty of the dark clouds and the raging sea and the worn down bridge drew large crowds. With no thoughts about safety, people were seen relaxing at the edges. When the occasional wave rose above their head, they coolly shifted position and continued the conversation. One old man came walking slowly from far away, came to the edge and gazed at the waves. The next minute he was drenched by a mammoth wave. He turned around as if nothing happened and walked back. Seems like he came here on purpose. The sky was blue on one side and totally dark on the other. A mist like cover made sure that the coast line was visible for only a few metres. Some shots from that incredible evening...when the waves just owned the bridge...

And now to a series of pics showing the attack of a wave on the small building at the edge of the bridge...

your crusader Praveen

It was an uncharacteristicly devotional day this past sunday, the second day of our Trissur visit. 3 of us who always wakes up when the sun is at its zenith, broke all traditions and rose up before 7. What happened next is sure to shock people who know us well. We started our small pilgrimage of temples in and around Trissur. Our first stop was Vadakkumnaathan temple, the abode of Lord Siva. Its situated at the centre of the Trissur round, a big circular plot right at the heart of the city. For the unintiated, this is the location of the world famous Trissur pooram. A mammoth gopuram welcomes you to this temple full of imposing architecture. The camera shut its eyes once inside the temple, never opening it until I stepped out. One of the main attractions there was a big koothambalam, where various art forms are usually performed. Thankfully, the temple didn't have the usual rush that is a bane when visiting famous temples. It was as peaceful as any small village temple.





After prayers here, we got out through the back gate and went straight to the Paramekkavu temple, which is situated just behind Vadakkumnaathan. Paramekkavu is one of the two groups that participate in the Trissur pooram festival, the other being thiruvambadi. This is a Bhagavathi temple. Due to the pant restriction, we had to be contend with a view from just inside the gates. Its time such archaic rules are re written rather than providing hardships to devotees. Afterall, what matters is what is inside one's soul, not the dress one wears. Here, some activity was going on in the koothambalam. The percussion sound of many sticks striking rhythmically on a wooden board was heard, most probably a 'chenda training class' going on. We headed back to the Vadakkumnaathan and walked around it. Each of the four gopurams(facing each direction) had different architectures. One of those was closed and will open only for the pooram festival. Our next trip was to thiruvambadi sri krishna temple, the temple of the other main group participating in the pooram. Again the pant restriction made sure that we could only watch the proceedings from the gate.

The afternoon trip was to the sakthan thampuran palace. Shaktan thampuran was the ruler of Cochin and is best known as the man who started the Trissur pooram festival. He was also instrumental in bringing Trissur to its present status of 'cultural capital of Kerala'. The palace is maintained by the archeological survey of India, but manned by a bunch of arrogant men. Even after paying the shooting fee for camera(you can only shoot the outside. No shooting is allowed in the inside and in the gallery), one or the other stupid guy popped up with objections. The funniest one was when I was shooting a simple locked door outside the palace.

The guy comes and asks-"who asked you to shoot it?"
Me-"I took the pass and am allowed to shoot everything outside the palace"
Guy-"No. This is a high security door. You should delete your pics"

After some more exchange of words, I decided to satisfy the fool's ego by deleting one of the five pics that I clicked of the locked door. Having achieved his aim, he started walking when my friend came and asked what happened. I said sarcastically that this guy's saying this is some BIG door, which comment didn't go down well with the guy. He came back and started his gyaan again-"when you are in a place, you should learn to behave according to the framework of rules of that place or else better stay away from clicking(exact words- oru sthalathu pokumbol aviduthe niyamangalude chattakoodinullil ninnu perumaaran padikkanam. Illengil padam pidikkan pokaruthu"). We bid him goodbye with a sarcastic "OK SIR". Such ill intentioned morons shouldn't be allowed to man such wonderful monuments.







Coming back to the palace, the horse carriage in the gallery was one of the highlights. There were displays of old swords and other fighting equipments. Old currencies and vessels were on view. Another notable thing was the stone sculptures of Gods. The nalukettu looked nice. Adjacent to the palace is a big pond surrounded by lots of trees and a small butterfly park. Its certainly a worthy trip to this place, if you are visiting Trissur.

your crusader Praveen

It was a swiftly planned trip to Athirappalli waterfalls, near Chalakkudy, Kerala. A marriage in Trissur sounded like a perfect reason to jump out on this trip. And as usual, with the least amount of planning, we booked the tickets the day before the journey. Getting the third one, Darshan from Chennai, to join us was the hard part(or rather the easy one). True to his nature, he gave all kind of reasons to not make the trip and then was there promptly, the morning of the trip. To go to Athirappalli from Trissur, first you need to take a bus to Chalakkudy and from there one of those short buses which will take you all the way up the hill. The bus slowly winded its way up the scenic road. The driver's music sense was appreciable considering the fact that he was playing the evergreen hits of Rahman and Ilayaraja all through the journey.

Contrary to our expectations, the monsoon still hadn't arrived in Kerala. Rising temperature and the humidity were irritations. But as the altitude began to rise, we could feel the coolness. Atlast after an hour's journey, the falls came on view. My first feeling was of nostalgia, a quick memory brush up of my last trip here, as a 10 year old. I could scarcely remember the places but the view of the falls was still fresh in memory. Then it was a quick run to the bathing point to cool off. The bathing areas were cordoned off with ropes to prevent people getting caught in the heavy water flow. The water level was little less and the waterfall was lean considering the scorching heat of the summer. Now its only a few days left before this falls is back in full force. The funniest part of the time in the water was the traditional Indian 'seven stones' game that started spontaneously. There were some 3-4 stones piled up on a rock towards the centre of the river. Somebody threw a stone at it. Before that misdirected throw hit the water, we saw stones coming from all directions, including our own group. This started many rounds of serious gaming, with me once almost throwing a stone on a guy's head. In a fit of spirited throwing, I had taken a particularly heavy stone which didn't go the distance and landed perilously close to the guy. He glared at me and motioned his hand to signal that he'll beat me up if I repeat this. Thats when the last of Darshan's 50 misdirected throws missed the stone yet again.






To get the full view of the falls, we need to walk down a bit. Its a breathtaking sight, even when its leaner because of the long summer. The water droplets were spraying all around making it difficult to shoot pics. The whole area was cordoned off and no one was allowed to get down at this point. But when I came here as a kid, I remember a big crowd taking bath at this very spot. This is the same place where the 'barso re' song from 'guru' was shot. Being one of Mani Ratnam's favourite locations, this place is featured a lot in his upcoming movie 'Raavan' too. As we prepared to walk back, the rain clouds were slowly gathering. We took another bus to 'Vaazhachal', a 5km ride further upstream from Athirappalli. Here, you can watch the water's fury as it flows down a long slope. Further walking upstream will reveal bathing points, notably cleaner than the downstream ones. There were no soap covered men ready to pollute the river with an year load of dust and sweat from their bodies. The tasty mango pickle with extra chilly and salt was yummy. As was the 'vazhakka bhaji' and the 'hot tea'. Half way into the tea, the last bus from this place arrived and it was time for us to bid goodbye to Vaazhachal and Athirappalli.

your crusader Praveen

few of the tickets

Having finished with the apetizer, we were all charged up for the D-Day. The night was long with partying going on till the wee hours of saturday. The day dawned on us with the arrival of a 10 member battalion from back home making it 20 people at home. What followed was hours of nostalgic talk on our previous concert experiences and many rounds of leg pulling. And then there were the photoshoots. As time wore on, it was time for the pilgrimage to Palace grounds. And thats exactly when the rain Gods decided to open up a bit. Anyway, we all stuffed ourselves into the van and proceeded to the venue. It was an experience, zipping through the Bangalore roads with metal blaring from the speakers. Although some among us were scared of the police stopping us.
Thankfully, it hadn't rained at the grounds. 3 of the opening acts were already over by the time we reached. From what I heard, Bhoomi was at the receiving end of the crowd's wrath and Boomerang impressed with their RATMesque style. I was disappointed at missing the Bombay based metal act Scribe. Their CD was impressive and so was waiting to watch their live act. And according to reports they did strike a chord with the audience. The moshpit became active around the time when they played. As we reached, the last of the opening acts, 'Extinct reflections(ER)' were getting on stage. And we all jumped into the pit with our own trademark moves, which did result in few poor souls eating some mud. ER was nowhere near the perfection that they attained, the last time I saw them. Lack of practise maybe a reason, considering the fact that the guitarist flew in from LA, just for this one last gig. It was suprising to see Randy blythe, the vocalist of Lamb of God, watching them intently from the sidelines. Without the airs of being such an international star, he was quietly appreciating the local acts. As ER got over, it was time for a long break to set the stage for the virginia metallers. It was a time to meet all old friends who had landed up at the arena. I bumped into bloggers vinay, dikshith and sanjay. and also some others. Members of bands from kerala like the down troddence, purple blood and crimson wood were in full force. The sad part for me was that I couldn't carry my cam inside and had to be content with some dirty clicks from mobile. But then, I spent only a few minutes in clicking as it was more fun with your hands free.

And after more than an hour of roaming around and waiting, the lights dimmed on stage. We slowly started moving in. Blue tinted bulbs began to shine and the opening strains of 'The passing', the opening song of LOG's new album 'Wrath' were heard. As the short song subsided, LOG was on stage with 'In your words', accompanied by a blast of lighting effects. Yes, there they were. Chris Adler, the modern drumming God flanked on both sides by Bassie John campbell and guitarists Willie Adler and Mark Morton and led by the inimitable Randy Blythe. The opening scream of 'In your words' sent shivers down the spine. The moshes had already started in full swing. It was pushing and shoving all around with some searching for a space to breath. 'Set to fail' followed, the song name signifying the opposite of what Lamb of God was going to do this day. The sore point was a little bad mixing in the sound console. The drums were perfect, with each kick reverberating in everyone's hearts. But the guitars and vocals were drowned out. Even Randy's open throated screams sounded feeble sometimes. And this condition stayed throughout the concert. Wish the organisers gave a little more importance to the sounds, as its been a bane in international rock fests in India, most notably the Megadeth one. By the time they started belting out their classics, I had somehow reached the front row and stayed there for the rest of the show. 'Now you've got something to die for' had most of the audience singing along. And as it happens with bands visiting India for the first time, LOG were surprised too.




Randy dedicated the song 'Contractor' to Mahatma Gandhi, descibing him as a punk rock dude. Ofcourse, he meant it with all respect unlike what some misinterpreted it to be. Chris Adler evoked a sense of awe with his brilliance. This guy deserves a big bow because he started drumming at the relatively late age of 22 and mastered it in such a short time. Rather, he has grown into a drumming God. Classics like 'laid to rest' and 'walk with me in hell' followed. There was no reprieve for the audience unlike traditional concerts where the band goes off stage and gets back with an encore. It was all over in a flash. 15 odd songs in the gap of about 75 minutes. 75 minutes of non stop headbanging, pushing, shoving, broken noses, flaring tempers and mixing sweatdrops. And then, the stage was clean. Everyone waited for the encore, but had to walk back disappointed. Still, the sense of achievement was on view, on most faces, of having watched one of the best metal bands of the modern era. This classification won't go down well with LOG, who are in there just to make music rather than compete. But then, I can be sure none of them will ever read this blog and so I can take the liberty to classify them. And its not right to end without thanking the 2 youngsters Arpan Peter and Vivek Venugopal who floated the event management company 'Overture' and made this concert a reality. Whatever be the glitches, this guys and their team deserve a standing ovation for pulling off something of this magnitude. And yes, DNA can think twice before bringing in gay pop bands to rock concerts. You've got competitors here, guys who has passion for the music rather than an eye on the 'market'.

The exponents of Pure American metal sent the audience into a tizzy with the unrelenting brutal assault of metal. This concert means a lot to Indian metalheads. To know what 'Lamb of God' has done to the metal scene in India, you just need to listen to the numerous Indian bands inspired by them. That distinctive drumming style and breakneck riffing are aped(no disrespect meant here..cos aping LOG is no mean task) by many a band in India, much like Metallica, Slayer and Iron Maiden inspired many in the 80s and 90s. Lamb of God is truely the deserving flagbearer of metal in the noughties and beyond. And it takes guts and passion to stay true to the roots, to stay brutal...as ever!


Dedicating this blog to Ronnie James Dio, the high priest of heavy metal who passed away recently.

your crusader Praveen