Rant - the Loss of Meaning

"I was like, good gracious, ass is bodacious
I'm flirtacious, tryin' to show patience...
...
I see you drive sports car, ain't hittin' the throttle
And I'll be down, I'll do 100, top down and goggles"

While I support the efforts of the hip-hop community to display more skin and less clothes, and admire the Kaizen (constant improvement) in this field, I find myself desiring more from the music.

Try this for size...

"Do Naina, ek kahani.
Thoda sa badal, thoda sa paani,
Aur ik kahani..."

Or

"Pyar mein sar jhukana padta hai
Dard me muskurana padta hai..."

Well, this post was supposed to be about painful music, the hindi songs are to accentuate the contrast. For the past week now, I have been trying to write things.

However, very recent events redirect my attention towards pain, which is what this one is about. Yes, and this is my disclaimer right here, so I will not entertain cribs about the post being painful. That is what is intended.

Right. Well what is most painful - actually there is this need to distinguish between various levels of pain. Each level would have different immediate effects and gestation period.

Four categories - Prick in the finger, pain in the neck, stone on the heart and death are my four categories.

The first one, is more of sudden unexpected discomfort than anything else. It is quick, unforeseen, and is usually over before you realise it is happening and then the pain stays but only for a while. Like when you say things without meaning it and regret afterwards, or just let go of something and the immediate regret pokes bites your tongue.

The second is less sudden in the build up and in dying down. Dull and throbbing, such pain comes from meeting sad people with sadder lives.

The third one is in bit more serious territory. Depends again on quite a few things..
You have trouble in breathing, sometimes you don’t want to breathe. To me, it does feel like a stone heaving down on my heart.(I read this somewhere long back, or perhaps I made it up and dont remember, but it seems falling in love also makes you understand poetry. Probably true only for me given my emotionally challenged growth)

Death...
Well, death is death.
(with due deference to Sid Sinha, for those who know what I am talking about).