The Rat Race

| Posted in , | Posted on 6:31 PM

2

Endless lay in wait
In the mighty hall
And then was the time
To act mature
And face up to it all

What they would make of us
Was now open for debate
People were right when they said
It's not the pain that kills,
It's the wait.

Some came out composed,
Some came out scarred,
For they didn't know
How to handle themselves
And their feelings were left unbarred 

Then I was called upon; 
The den was waiting for me
And what I had made of
All those years
Was there for them to see 

They started talking to me,
But they did not feel ashamed,
Even though what they spoke
And what they meant
Were not at all the same... 

I had to forget what I loved
Was what I wasn't told,
But I found myself lost and
Bereft of thought
When they offered me gold.

Then the King and his ministers
Sent me off with a smiling face...
They congratulated me with
Abundant joy and welcomed me
To the rat race

Ramblings

| Posted in , , | Posted on 9:29 PM

0

  The second term has started.
  Shit.
  It's crazy how much work I have left and I'm still doing nothing about it.
  Meh. What bullshit this is.
  School's not getting any funner, but yes, playing Iron Maiden's Trooper right before studies began helped things.
  Some blasts managed to freak out a few kids today. Somebody put a bomb, not one used by a terrorist but one used by kids during Diwali, in one of the toilets and the blast broke the glass panes inside it. While I was still busy wondering what the hell had happened, Remya was smart enough to say, 'Arre! You guys wait for the second blast. That'll just rock the whole school!' And when she say the look of disbelief on my face, she said, 'I was kidding!' Thank God for that, but yes, there was another blast.
  Nilanjana came and said hi to me after the end of god-knows-what period and she said, 'I'm cranky and I'm sad and I do not like this!' To that I said, 'And I need to pee and they locked all the washrooms,' That's why I like her - irrespective of whatever crap goes on in both our lives, we always have enough time to spare for our moment of craziness retardedness.
  I have to submit Eco, Chem and History copy tomorrow.
  This year is crappy, and ironical even more, since this is the only academic year that I'm actually studying and we're being graded for classroom behaviour and attendance. It's something like: Classroom(Behaviour; Attendance) [<--------Get that!?]
   I broke the first string of my guitar yesterday. It just ripped from the center, and I didn't know that could even happen. And in case you're wondering how I played Trooper without a first string, I'll say that I just played it a string above.
   I'm gonna get a guitar slide soon. I've been pining for one since crazy ever since I heard Slash's Snakepit's Beggars And Hangers-on.
   French day is coming close too. Dammit I CANNOT sing while playing guitar and I'm gonna be graded on THAT. Fuck you CCE. Again, fuck you.
   Second Term's gonna be the cherry on the cake that is unfortunately, my life, and I'm gonna have to 'enjoy' it as much as I possibly can. Yeah, like as if that's gonna happen when I know Butane can also be called 2Methyl-Propane if you change the position of carbon atoms. What shit, seriously. If I cut my arm and paste it on my leg will my name change?
 
   Ramblings
 What joy they bring to the agitated and self depreciative soul.
 
 

View From The Top

| Posted in , , | Posted on 12:06 AM

4

The view from the top
Was scary
And it didn’t make me
Wanna jump at all…

That is what I went there for, though

Something must have ticked,
For my heart was beating fast
And each time it did,
The sound echoed inside me
But everything else was silent…

A bit too much for my taste
The blood flowed away
From my veins
And an unexpected fear
Of death, overwhelmed me

Why?
Wasn’t that what I went there for, in the first place?
Silly me.

It wasn’t death I wanted.
It was comfort.

Of Best Friends And Nerds

| Posted in , , , , , | Posted on 12:01 PM

4

   Two of my most beloved friends, Anish and Mayank, have started calling me a nerd recently. And that is very insulting. Why? All of us belong to the best section of Xth in our school. I'll explain further - The other three sections combined, had a total of 38 scholars based on their performance in IXth, i.e. students who scored more than eighty percent overall, or in CCE terms - an A2. Our class alone, had 33 scholars. It was something that our class teacher could boast about; and something we could feel ashamed about. Now while I was completely oblivious of the fact that I could actually score, I ended up being a scholar too. So did Mayank and Anish.
   I made a conscious decision to try and study in the Xth grade. Mind you, it was only because I knew people would ask me my percentage, and if I failed to tell them something I could be proud of, I knew they'd laugh at me. And they'd think that I wasted one of the most important years of my life. And so started my mission, my pact - to study, to deliver, to perform.
   People always make up lame excuses to not have studied. And the lamest, of course, is the lack of inspiration. I'll tell you something about inspiration - you don't go looking for it, it's right there in front of you. In somebody's words, in somebody's thoughts, in somebody's feelings. And I found mine in the two bastards that I call my best friends.
                                                                       ~1~
   I distinctly remember it was Mayank's birthday we were going to celebrate. Just the three of us. We'd decided to go to his place straight from school, in the van that carried him to school and back. On the way to his place, the traffic was worse than ever, and so were the asses I was with.
   Anish seemed to have spotted an auto-rickshaw that was carrying gas cylinders. "Hey dude, you know what?" he asked nobody in particular. "If you shoot one bullet into any one of those tanks, the impact will be strong enough to burn all of us in milliseconds. We'll be roasted. Instant Tandoori!" I was about to say something funny about how there wouldn't be a lot of people in the radius of a few kilometers who'll enjoy eating us, but Mayank spoke before I could.
   "Accha? You think the bullet will just penetrate the metal like that? You know what the cylinders are made up of?"
   "It'll easily go through man. It's India. There's adulteration in everything!" Anish wasn't gonna shut up either.
   "You know the bullet has to have a radius of... blah... blah.... blah blah... blah..."
And so these shitheads went ahead to waste a half an hour of my life discussing about whether a bullet of radius x cms [I don't remember the exact value. I was too bored to even care!] would be able to penetrate a gas cylinder or whatever.
   Then somehow the discussion shifted to Perpetual Motion. Mayank said something about bullets always flying and Anish said something about them being perpetually in motion or something and off went the bastards again.
   They wasted ANOTHER half an hour of my life discussing perpetual motion and whether it could be discovered.
   Mayank had the vaguest of ideas in trying to prove that it could be discovered and Anish just kept proving him wrong. I guess that's what happened. If I were drunk or stoned, I'd have remembered more. I just simply didn't care enough then. And these nincompoops made me.
                                                                        ~2~
   It was the first Maths class that I was attending after weeks. Practicing for inter-school competitions had left me with only so much time!
   Maths teacher saw me and asked me to stand up. "What is the value of tan45°?" I had an absolutely BLANK expression after she'd asked me that. Not only did I not know what 'tan' was, I had simply no idea what 45° was doing after it. "I don't know ma'am" I said. Loads of hands shot up as soon I'd said it. That's what happens when you're studying in a class full of nerds.
   The whole class went on to do some exercise off the NCERT book, as the teacher instructed. I did not know it then, but they were proving questions. And everybody seemed to be knowing what they were doing. Except me.
   Mayank was sitting right next to me. He solved the questions with undiluted zeal. I could make out from his face that he was bloody into whatever he was doing. And he knew it too. He was kind enough that day to let me copy all of it from him, and whenever the teacher asked if I understood anything, I just nodded. He put his hand up whenever the teacher asked who all were done with the question. And he solved the questions on the blackboard too.
   And I'll tell you something honestly - I was jealous. Insanely jealous.
   Not because of the fact that he could solve complex trigonometry questions. No. Even bookworms could accomplish that. It was because I could see genuine happiness in his face whenever he solved a question. It was the sense of accomplishment that I'd always wanted. And that was what I, somewhat, achieved.
                                                                       ~3~
   And now the real reason why I wrote this - Never, ever call me a nerd.
   The way people say 'nerd', it sorta makes it a derogatory term. But I'll tell you this - Nerds are worthy of respect. I'm not. They're the ones who sacrifice their fun for their future. We don't - So we think whoever doesn't isn't cool. Screw the mindsets that people have.
And oh, I almost forgot. I'm somebody who knows things that are in the syllabus. Ask me anything outside of the box and I'll fail. Therefore, I'm not even a hundredth of an actual nerd.
   Mayank Gulati and Anish Majumdar, however, tell me things that make me open my mouth and gaze at their faces. That's why they rule.
   It's a totally screwed up tale as to how I ended up screwing most of my grades in the First Term, and I'll summarize it in a word: CCE. I lost my A2 in science and english and an A1 in Maths by ONE FREAKING MARK! ONE FREAKING MARK!!!. Life sucks.
   And in case you were wondering, Mayank has a girlfriend, and he's in the Basketball school team. And Anish and I discuss about out guitar gods whenever we have the time, and he plays games like he's made them.
   And I? I have the world's biggest bastards as my best friends. :)

[Note: Anish's got a Guitar Grade 4 Exam this wednesday on the 27th! Best of luck Shithead! Distinction awaits!!]

Our Hangout Place [Fiction 55]

| Posted in , , , , | Posted on 12:05 AM

4

It was our hangout place

We sat there on the pavements
With pudding in our hands
And spare change 
That could barely be counted

And under the stars
 That we lay every evening
We shared our pain, our anxieties
Our sorrows and our happiness

But never our pudding.

It was our hangout place.
Only ours.

The Report Card Fiasco

| Posted in , , , , | Posted on 10:52 PM

0

   Yes. I got my report card. And yes, it sucked.
   And in the words of one of my favorite characters from TV, I was attached to another object by an inclined plane, wrapped helically around an axis. Simply put, I was screwed.
   If you know me well, you'd know that I'm always stuck up between two things. And they needn't be good and bad, always. And I've got two very different thinkers residing inside me, and both of them didn't leave a single opportunity to speak up, and of course, engage in a fist-less duel. Here, it was between the right brain and the left brain; the rationalist and the dreamer; the engineer and the poet. And so started the battle of the brains that would eventually end up making me crazy.   

   God, look at your grades! What the fuck have you been doing for so long!?   
   Dude, CHILL! It's not like the world has ended!
   Chill!? CHILL!? You think it's the time to chill!? Don't you know its the fucking tenth grade and you need to fucking score!? Do you not realize that this is the time to forget everything else and just STUDY!? 
   Whoa, dude, cool down there! If you spend all your time studying, what will happen to all the riffs you have playing in your head? And look around you, fool! There are so many kids who have scored lesser than you. Stop cursing yourself already!
   Haha, yeah! Take a look around you and you'll see there are many more people who have scored MORE than you have. And if you haven't already, start cursing yourself now. You're nothing better than an underachiever, and you always will be.
   Stop sulking like little babies! For lord's sake you scored a 75 out of 80 in Maths! Just fucking stop wailing!

A Smile

| Posted in , , | Posted on 10:07 PM

2

Another Fiction 55 'cuz now I'm just getting simply obsessed!

We were waiting for our things
At a store by the park

When a maid came in carrying a child
And she bought him
Two toffees

And the child,
In his ragged, shabby attire
Smiled

And shocked we were

'Cause the smile came straight
From his soul
And all he got,
Was just two toffees...

The Hardest Of Tasks

| Posted in , , , , , , | Posted on 10:29 PM

0





Thou asketh not for compassion or warmth
Even whilst thy heart bore the scars of a million words.

Thou asketh not for a healer
Even whilst the words hath stung more than bullets

But thou asketh for strength!
And I bestoweth upon thee,
The hardest of tasks:
Forgive.

Love

| Posted in , , , , , | Posted on 10:12 PM

4

This following post is a Fiction 55, wherein the post has to be finished in or under 55 words. And this is my very first one! :)

She woke up in the morning, cursing herself, everyday. She couldn't get accustomed to the feeling that engulfed her...

For, the shell of obstinacy that surrounded her, was unbreakable.

But, she was a human after all...
She had feelings too.

Yes, she was in love.
And she hated every minute of it.

                                                                         * * *
[I did it. I finished the Bitch Challenge given to me by Remya Raj. And I ended it with a Fiction 55! Cool! Comment now, wouldn't ya?]

Arranged Marriage

| Posted in , , | Posted on 5:26 PM

0

Hello

This is the first time
We're meeting
And I do not wish
To be straightforward

But I will tell you this...

I haven't known you long enough
And therefore I do not
Love You

I will be terribly disheartened
If I have hurt you
Or have broken your heart
In any possible way

But I just can't help it!

I am ashamed of myself
But still I'll be honest
With you...

My parents forced me into this.

Dear Physics, Chemistry and Maths books
For the XIth Grade,
I am sorry.

Srimanta Mitra :)

Ten Free Drinks

| Posted in , , , | Posted on 12:27 PM

2

[NOTE: I had to squeeze this one out of me, just like I had to with 'The Alley' To be fairly honest, I dislike this one as much as the last one I wrote, but it was a challenge right? Do tell me how you guys found it, though :P]

   He had been a genius ever since I'd met him in Stanford. He performed well at a majority of classes even though he hardly satisfied the attendance requirements. I'd see him work on and on for hours; while I was wasting my time playing hacky-sack or whatever. He was, to me, always the ideal student - hard-working, attentive, mindful. And yet, he was the ideal friend too.
   We had quite a few dorm-room parties during our Stanford years. We used to call these 'Space Rock Sessions', partly because of our love for the genre of music but wholly because of the repetitive feeling of being in space that we had on combining cigarettes with vodka - We had a full neat drink of Vodka and then we'd smoke a few sticks; and we'd do it again and again, mixing different juices with the Vodka each time. It was just the two of us - and our randomosity. 
   I've forgotten all but one of these Space Rock Sessions, thanks to all the alcohol. 
                                                         * * * 
   Radiohead was playing in the background and I was drinking something that was greenish in colour; it reminded me of grass. Leonard's drink was pink. A random conversation followed.
   'Do you know?' Leonard began thoughtfully.   
   'What?'
   'You know what you're gonna do after you're done with Stan?'
   'I dunno man... probably get a job if I'm lucky enough.. and then get married If i'm lucky enough... and then have kids..'
   'No man! Not that! I mean.. don't you like... have plans?'
   'What plans? You make plans? I laugh at those who do! PLANS SUCK MAN!'
   'Screw you dude. I'm just thinking... what if I don't get into IBM or Dell or HP? What the fuck will I do then?'
   'Dude! Chill! Just get any random 9 to 5 job. As long as you get paid, what the fuck do you need to worry about? I mean, it's not like your parents are gonna be all, 'Oh, son, get outta the freaking house, pay your own bills' and shit. Just chill man. You're a freaking genius. You'll get any job you want. I'm gonna be the one stuck till god-knows-when!'
   'You know what dude? That is what will get you down. Your confidence. You're freaking brilliant too, man. Just stop undermining yourself.'
   'Yeah man whatever... I need another drink'
    I got up to get another drink, but I must've passed out before I could've 'cause that's everything my memory can serve. The next time I had a drink with him was probably a full year after that Space Rock Session.
                                                       * * * 
   A month after campus placements had taken place, he had called me to our favorite nightclub - Regina.
   He was in a seat by the bar. Yet again, his drink was pink.
   'Wassup, man!?' I asked him ecstatically. 
   'Nothing, dude. What happened with the job thing? You got a job yet?'
   'Fuck no man. I'm still searching for 'em bitches. Anyway man, you tell me... how much are they paying you in IBM?'
   'I didn't get the job'
   'Whaaaaaaaaat? You serious? Gimme Dell dude... how much in Dell? You got Dell right?'
   'Nope'
   'The HELL? What happened man?'
   'I dunno... the interviews were pretty good. I dunno why I didn't make the cut.' He didn't sound like he should have while he said it. His voice didn't have the angst nor the sadness that I imagined it would have.
   'What the hell dude?' I said with a slight smirk. He was handling himself surprisingly well. 'Didn't you always wanna have a good job that paid you golden eggs?'
   'Yeah man. Whatever. Screw them.' His cellphone rang. He excused himself and started talking.
   Leonard surprised me. He worked like an ass his years in Stanford, and yet now he was absolutely fine with not having one of the best jobs available. Astonishing indeed.
   As I was sipping my drink at that time, I remembered a story I read when I was a child. It was about a fox and a tree of grapes. The fox wanted to have grapes, so he gave his best shot and jumped up to have a mouthful; and he failed. He tried, and tried, and tried; but yet, he failed. So he convinced himself that the grapes weren't worth his effort and consoled himself saying the grapes were sour. 
   Was Leonard acting like the fox? Did it really not matter to him as much as it should have? Was he working towards achieving sour grapes all this time? Or was he too much in control of himself to show that he cared?
   He kept his phone down and was walking towards me.
   'So, dude... are you really sure you didn't want to be in one of those MNCs? I mean... seriously, man. Think. They're not sour grapes,' I said.
   'What the fuck? Sour grapes?' he asked, baffled. 'Ignoring the last comment, I'll tell you something important about myself. And it might take a while. Don't interrupt me when I'm speaking alright? Okay?'
   'Sure, man. Hit me!' As if an explanation to his foxy behavior was something I wasn't willing to listen.
   'See, man. We all have different minds, right? And I've discovered something about mine. I can't tell you if it's good or bad... it's just what it is.
   'When I was younger, I found out that I could trick my mind into believing things. Not like making it believe bullshit like I can travel back in time, no. I figured that I was contagious. If you were to tell me that this drink that I am drinking now, was pure piss BEFORE I'd started drinking it, trust me I'd have believed you. So I started playing games with my head. That's how I made myself study Physics and Chemistry, man. All that I could read in XIth and XIIth grade was because I'd forced myself to like what I was reading. You think I liked Physics? From the first to the very last day that I'd spent in Stanford I'd believed it was refined horse crap. Doesn't work always, I know, but thankfully it did the trick for me then...'
  'So, basically, you just told me the secret to scoring killer grades... Alright, that is nice. But, you didn't quite tell me what I wanted to know.'
  'Didn't I ask you to shut up? Anyway, if I were to tell you that I'm gonna buy you ten free drinks, how would you feel? There is catch, of course.'
  'I'd tell you I am as ready as I could ever be.'
  'Okay. So, there's this coin, right?' He took out a coin from his pocket. 'I'm gonna toss this coin thrice. What's your call?'
  'Heads!'
  'Okay. If the coin says 'Heads' even once, you get ten free drinks. Okay?'
  'What the hell, OF COURSE IT'S OKAY!'
  He tossed it once. Tails.
  Again. Tails.
  Once more. Tails.
  I stared at him in disbelief.
  'What the fuck just happened?' I retorted. 'Does the coin have 'HEADS'?
  He slid the coin over to me. Holy Mother Of God, it did.
  He started speaking. 'Since you are obviously familiar with the concept of Probability, you'd have thought that the chances of the coins landing a 'Heads' once was obviously around 84%. Right?'
  'Of course, dude. You don't think I failed the Tenth grade do you?
  'Control your sarcasm, ass. In calculating what percentage of chances you had for winning, you had forgotten to account for something else altogether, and that was the most important thing.'
   'What?'
   'Fate. See dude, if you think that doing your bit of the chore is gonna get you everywhere in life, you're quite obviously mistaken. Working hard is important, sure - but at the end of the day, you can't disagree with the fact that you might have something else in store for you. And it's always for your own good. And I'll tell you this - if you have done your part of the cycle, just relax. You know you'll get paid for your hard work. It always pays. So I'm not sad. Not at all'
   'So... what you're saying is... you're not sad at all? You're not sad for wasting 15 hours a day studying what you 'made' yourself like? You're not sad because you're gonna be paid for only a fraction of what you should be paid?'
   He didn't reply at once. He waited for the words to sink in and said, 'See dude, it's like this: If I don't get a job that I wanted - and I'd worked for - it doesn't really matter. I believe I am mature enough to handle rejection and accept my own destiny. I'm gonna be sad, hell yeah, but it's more like getting over a high school relationship. It'll happen eventually. And you know what? Chill. Since you know that you've done your bit, just have a drink and go sleep. If it helps, have a whole load of drinks. But remember to never let it get you, man. That is the important bit.'
   And he finished his drink
   You know how there are times in your lives when you feel you are nothing? Like, on the face of this earth, you're probably one of those undeserving fools who just have everything they want without having worked for it? That's exactly how I felt when Leonard finished. That guy just gave a reasonable explanation to him not being sad, whereas, had I been in his place, I'd have let everything go to hell. And I'd be sitting around being depressed all the time.
   I didn't know how it felt to have worked day and night for something and then having lost it.
   I didn't believe I was mature enough to handle rejection.
   But Leonard...
   Goddamn him.

The Seven Ages [My First Poem]

| Posted in , , , , | Posted on 11:45 PM

4

  [So, uh... I wrote this thing way back in the ninth grade. Our English literature book had an extract from William Shakespeare's As You Like It called 'The Seven Ages,' and our English teacher asked all the students in the class to write their own interpretation of it, in the form of a poem or whatever. So I wrote mine and I stood second, and it's probably gonna be the only prize I'll ever win for poetry. I've left this thing unedited, though I'd so LOVE to make a few edits. :)]



The Seven Ages




When I was an infant,
I heard I used to be cute
But I would trouble my parents
And everywhere I would puke

In my childhood,
I learnt things like 'ABC'
And though my parents were too busy,
They took time out to play with me

In my adolescence,
I would have fun with my friends…
And I wouldn't stop crying
When a ‘Relationship’ ends

Step into youth,

I’m all armed and ready to fight!
And seeking all the glory
I would work hard day and night

In my middle age, 

I had to work to earn my dime
But I dint respond to my family’s call
And that sure was a crime

In my old age, 

My children took care of me
I took a lot of medicines
But my children, they helped me see

And now, people think I’ve grown old

But I've been reduced to a child
And I await my death…
I want it to be peaceful and mild

Srimanta Mitra 

IX-A

Durga Puja

| Posted in , | Posted on 2:46 AM

2

The excited youth, in high spirits
Is bringing Durga Maa from her home
To her land where she belongs;
Where an anxious mass awaits her arrival

The priests and their helping hands
Are cleaning and decorating the Puja Mandap
For, Durga Maa is finally arriving at her Maternal Home
And there is no room for even a single speck of dust

A crowd of young children
Is dancing to the percussion of the Dhaki,
Since the year long wait has culminated
And the festivities will resume again...

And the one week in a Bengali's life
Where people, prayers and food
Are found in abundance, will begin.
And naturally, everyone's excited.

Me too.

Chicks Vs. Guitars

| Posted in , , , , | Posted on 2:23 AM

0

   It's 1:15 AM, and I swear I don't feel like sleeping.

   I was thinking about guitars, and about chicks. And I wondered about what I could probably want more, and guess what I came up with?

   Guitars - Once, twice, thrice, and if need be, a hundred times.


   Well, that being said I can't obviously deny the fact that I need human companionship, reciprocal of feelings, this that, that this, all sorts of bullshit. But yes, I do know that I am really not interested in dating right now, but I obviously still  would want to play a guitar.

   So, now I'll list my reasons. Guitars have:


  • Better Necks - Have you ever felt a maple neck on a guitar? I mean, seriously, HAVE YOU? And if the Fingerboard's maple too then there's obviously nothing better in this world. Think about it. A girl's neck isn't available in C,D and V shapes and isn't nearly as awesome as the one which a guitar offers. Moreover in the case of bolt-on necks, they're easily changeable if they get damaged. How would you like to change the neck on your gal?
  • Controllable Knobs - If you didn't already know, guitars come with knobs with which you can control things such as tone and volume. You even get a coil tap switch in a few guitars. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that you have complete control over it, whereas that is far from the truth in case of girls. I mean, suppose she's pissed at you, and starts shouting, you can't just roll the volume knob all the way down to zero to shut her up can you?
  • Cooler Bends - This one's slightly perverted. Alright, VERY perverted. But you know it's true, right? Guitar strings are bend-able, and that might not be the case with your gal. If she's into power yoga though, it might be a totally different case.
  • Awesomer Squeals - Slightly perverted again, but this one makes more sense. If you've heard of pinched harmonics, you probably know that you can make your guitar squeal whenever you desire. Add the whammy for extra 'feel' if you want.
  • Low(er) Maintenance Cost - How much did you spend the first time you took your girl out on a date? How much did you spend on the next one? And the one that followed? And the subsequent dates which followed? Add all that up. Now, how much does a set of strings cost? Find that out and multiply it by the no. of times you've had your strings changed, and tell me, which one's higher? If you've arrived at the conclusion that maintaining a guitar is more expensive, then obviously, either you change strings every two weeks OR your gal is anorexic and doesn't like eating much.
  • No Jealousy - Since we all know the fact that our gal might feel jealous if we start talking to a bunch of other chicks, it would probably be safe to assume that it is, even if we would like to disagree, a little bit of a pain in the ass, right? I mean, she just might not realize that I love only her and I'm just having a laugh with other people of the opposite sex! That's not the same with guitars, though. You can own 200 of them and play only 20 and the others wont even do so much as to break their own strings.

   I can go on and on and on and on and on, but I think I should put in one last reason. Guitars are, and this one's undeniably true:

  • Worth Fighting For - You fight with another random guy who's into the same chick as you are, and even if you end up winning the fight, there's no absolute guarantee that she's gonna choose you over the other guy. She might start hating you for beating that guy up, or not talking to her before taking such a step, and this that, that this, all sorts of bullshit. But if you fight for a guitar, you'll know it'll never leave your side. It'll be there with you till its neck is worn out over time. And that is when you'll know it has done you good, and it should probably rest. And I speak from experience 'cause I have played a guitar that is as old as me, 15, and trust me, she still has some of the awesomeness that she had in her when she was just made. I affectionately call her Maple.

Maple

    And in case you were wondering about the sex part, [Well, silly me, of course you were wondering about the sex part!] in Slash's autobiography, he himself thought that sex was the best thing in the world, until he played guitar. And all the other guitarists' whose biographies I have read, which have not mentioned it, feel the same way, obviously.

                                                           -x-x-x-

  Disclaimer: Product Of Intense Boredom. Seriousness unintended. No offence to girls ---> You MAKE  us guys, quite literally speaking. How can we possibly consider you unworthy of us? 

  Note To Dumbasses Who Think I'm Gay: Read Disclaimer Again.

  Note To Feminists: No Chauvinism Intended. Read Disclaimer Again.