Like a Complacent Engineer

Have you ever seen where the Devil resides? Or let me ask you a better question, have you ever diagnosed an engineering professor's mind? Yes now you know the answer and you already feel like I am exaggerating but no, the truth is, professors are a little more merciful than the guy who came up with the entire idea of killing people in gas chambers. No wonder the professors feel like over-burdening the helpless students with assignments that take about seven million years and some sixty five thousand more years to complete and they literally take a whip and order us to complete the assignments in a semester time. If you were convinced right in the first time that I wasn't exaggerating then I succeeded in manipulating you. Actually, we engineers are the most complacent beings to ever exist on Earth, and in fact even my turtle has approved me that he can't really match my level of complacency (I asked him Shelly, are you more complacent than me? He didn't give a fuck and I assumed his answer to be a no). I get about 8-10 assignments in one subject per subject which makes it about fifty assignments per semester or about ten assignments per month or like one assignments in three days. But, being a pro in procrastination, I, or as a matter of fact all other engineers, try delaying the writing process until we come down to a state when fifteen days are remaining and twenty five odd assignments are left to be written. Yet, the belief that we will save our ass from fire, or the dire need to save it gives us the fire from inside to complete this almost impossible task. Yes, our lives are just like that, with blogging and twitter to more common things like movie, music, love, dating and Whatapping taking place in the initial months followed by mid semesters, followed by normal routine and then the ultra pressure of semester work submission and semester-end exams. We enjoy life like hell and then curse ourselves for wasting time and then promise ourselves "Agle semester me pehle se regular ho jaunga". But being regular is something that cannot happen in these four years, engineering makes us repeat the mistakes seven times, and then they don't remain mistakes, they become a habit, a habit to screw up and accepting complacency as a way of living. 

A silly rhyme from the Insomniac

There's nothing to distract you,
your attention is mine,
the attention which I long for,
comes to me under the moonshine,
let the moments pass by,
making me feel more alive,
'cause it won't be the same,
once the dawn breaks,
once it's past five.

I feel high by your company,
you tend to know magic spells,
you tend to lighten the world up,
in which this silly bastard dwells,
So let let me dance holding your hand,
and know how it feels to be alive,
'cause it won't be the same,
once the dawn breaks,
once it's past five.

I am yet to discover,
the color of your brush,
'cause I can't just ask these things,
struck in the day's rush,
let the silly talks be done,
all through the night,
there's nothing to skive,
'cause it won't be the same,
once the dawn breaks,
once it's past five.

I can make thousand reasons,
and some more,
to let you not sleep,
and crave for the adore,
let us be ourselves,
let us feel a li'l more alive,
let us talk till the dawn breaks,
let us talk till it's past five.

(P.S: I scribbled the rhyme while sitting near the train door this morning, it basically lacks logic, vocabulary and of course poetry)

Little Moments

You deserve happiness every now and then. Be it staring deep into the eyes of your beloved and wishing the moment exists for a lifetime or holding her hand, intertwining those fingers and feeling the soft touch  of her palm against the palm of yours made brutally rough by the solder gun and the ends of single core connecting wires in your PCB circuit. Happiness can even be found in a cup of coffee at the end of writing the assignment at 2 am, the night before the deadline, reassuring yourself that you have saved your lazy ass from fire one more time, the coffee serves as a reward to your soul, trapped in an engineering student's body. Happiness may also be found in those late night walks with your room partner at perhaps 11 pm, with the sound of  horns of passing-by cars reducing every moment. True bliss surrounds you with the orange colored street light imitating the yellow one which emanates from the palm of lord Vishnu, you feel blessed by the urban God, by the urban streetlights. Happiness also remains hidden in the window seat of a bus going past the landmarks on a night which seems to completely accept you. The window opens up your mind, you feel like a temporary nomad with the road and night being your only companions who share the feeling of mutual love. Happiness is also present on the Sachin-Magdalla highway bridge on the Tapi river, the rays of setting sun, the cool wind striking against your face, and the mild movement of bridge, all when felt with eyes closed, transform the place into heaven. Even that "someone special", whom you have not dated yet, agreeing to remain awake for twenty more minutes just to chat with you has a euphoria hidden in it, which highly goes unnoticed, maybe because we're much more obsessed with achieving bigger things in life, buying a bungalow, earning in six figures, riding a car with a logo that raises your status and working endlessly to earn money in a way that leaves you with no time to enjoy life. Life is not about the bigger achievements, it is about these small moments of happiness because it is during these moments that life really takes place, if you miss these, you miss the opportunity to live another moment.  

The long wait

It's 8 am already but Rajesh is in no hurry to wake up today, neither does her mother feels the urge. Rajesh decided to skip school today, owing partially to the inevitable muscular pain resulting from last evening's hard work and partially due to the sorrow that is hidden in one corner of his heart. Yes, he cried last evening and he would remain on the verge of crying every now and then all through the day. His mother senses his bad mood and decides not to force him to study today. She wakes him up at 8:30 am just when the water in the German silver vessel begins to boil. Half sleepy, Rajesh brushes his teeth and takes a bath. Even his favorite breakfast, poha is not enough to make his mood any better.

Rajesh hurries to the society compound. The Pandal is still present, and so are Deepu, Parth, Dhruv and Shubham. The feeling of grief cuts across the society walls, all through Maharashtra and other parts of Western India. They share a helpless look, their Bappa is gone, their job is gone. A month earlier, they were assigned the task to collect chanda all through the society. They roamed here and there with the tiny yellow receipts, asking Rs 100 more this time telling "Aunty pyaaz bhi mehengi hain, mooriyon ke daam bhi badh gaye hain" . Rajesh never paid attention to the mathematics lessons his 'tuition aunty' used to teach him, but he doesn't make a single mistake while counting the notes before handling the entire bundle to Kamath uncle. After all, its not for a tuition test, it's for a greater reason, it's for his favorite God, it's for his Bappa.

Three weeks before, you could see Rajesh and his bunch of friends in that narrow lane on one corner of the city, bargaining furiously with the Idol-maker to reduce the cost of Ganpati they have selected to meet their budget. The considerate Idol maker is not money minded, its his eleventh meeting for the day and he has already made a loss of five thousand rupees in dealing with the children. However, the joy he gets to see on their face when the deal is made and knowing that he is partially responsible for it, is nevertheless priceless. He finally reaches a consensus with the children and he gets to see the joy once again. Once the gang has left, he looks up towards the heaven and smiles, firmly believing Bappa is looking at him and has already showered his blessings upon him. He returns to the task of finishing the idols and making them ready for the grand festival.

Over the series of next few days, you could see these chaps busy calling the flower supplier, the Pandal-maker, the priest and completing other such jobs. It's already been a week since they last attended the accounts class, dedicating their entire time to the preparation for the festival, ensuring no flaw remains. Financially, this doesn't get a very easy affair either. They have to plan and plan again to make ends meet. The price of every single commodity has gone up except the figure of the chanda or donation they get. Deepu has already visited the society's president's house for the fourth time this morning to get some extra funds. Their unbreakable faith on Bappa doesn't let them give up, no matter how many problems come up, they always manage to tide through uncertainties. The true sense of management can be learnt in these small pockets of the country where these young fellows, out of their devotion, always end up managing the finance, no matter how problematic the situation tends to become.

Even personally, it's not easy. Over the past few days, Rajesh has witnessed feeding all his pocket money as petrol to his black Scooty with white dots. His girl friend, Vaishali feels he is losing interest in her. Rajesh decides to deal with her later, feeling he has got much more important issues like ensuring that the lighting is done properly first. Last evening, Rajesh was scolded by his parents for not attending the classes. He has a just reason, not to attend the classes but his parents just don't seem to understand, he listens to all that his parents have got to lecture him with his head bowed. However, he keeps a track of the time, how can he miss the general meeting at 9 pm? After all the group is about to conclude all the preparation for the festival. Bappa's festival  is to begin tomorrow.

The grand day arrive and the Pandal's ready. Shubham is busy calling the priest, one hour before the destined 'muhurta'. The priest compains of the grand traffic that can be witnessed on the street of the city. Nevertheless, due to Bappa's grace, he reaches on time. The 'shubh muhurta' arrives and the carnival begins. Over the next five days, you can see Dhruv close to the dvd player and addressing the lighting issues, Shubham carrying the bowls of prashad every evening to the society homes and Rajesh sitting next to Bappa's idol and handing over the prashad to the people who have come to visit. They never realize when those five long days ended.

Last morning. Rajesh ensured that the couple of trucks they booked for the immersion ritual have arrived beforehand. Packets of pink colored powder of Gulaal are ready to paint the procession in pink. The drums are ready and so are the saffron headbands. The boys have made all the required arrangements for the ritual and the grand afternoon arrives. The boys lift the idol to the truck and the procession begins. You could spot Rajesh wearing the saffron headband, beating the drum and shouting slogans of 'Ganpati Bappa Morya'. Amid traffic, the procession somehow reaches the 'ghaat' where the ritual is destined to take place. The idol has been lifted off the truck and the immersion is about to begin. Rajesh touches Bappa's feet with moist eyes asking Ganpati to come back next year. Minutes later, the idol has been immersed in the stream of flowing water and the boys are all wet. The trucks begins to return to the society. However, the atmosphere in the truck is different from what it was a couple of hours earlier. You can sense the gloom on their pink colored faces replacing the cheerful faces. The Idol is missing too. The Sun is setting and Rajesh is busy staring the setting sun, avoiding any eye contact. The pink color Gulaal and the reddish shade of the sun combine to form a unique color on his face, a color that can only be found in India. A shade, among many others that uniquely define India. This color has a shade of immense devotion, a shade of the universal feeling of love, a shade that defines the relation between God and his devotee and a faith that keeps on telling the young boy that Bappa will come back, no matter if the wait is a year long.  

Farts

There are people who exist, there are people who are gifted with brain and intellect, there are people who recognize what freedom really is and then there are people who don't think much before farting. Perhaps, God's blessings were showered in an increasing order in that manner. And then there are two kinds of people in these universe. One, who think farting is a fundamental human right and then the other, who are intellectually challenged. Farting is something that sophisticated people try to despise, but then they too have to agree that farting is inevitable. And those who think farting is embarrassing are basically called morons by their stomach. I mean, if you think more about what others would think than what your stomach will go through, you have to learn an art, the art of living. 

Acceptance

Lunatic,
dark humored,
coarse,
clumsy,

bad tempered,

potty mouthed,

incomprehensive,

unacceptable,
intolerable,
highly acerbic,

the psychopath walks on his own,

your acceptance gets too expensive. 

Our Conversations..

How I wish,

you remained awake,

four and a half minutes more,

every single night;

had those silly chats,

continued for,

a few more moments,

I could have ended up,

knowing you more.

How I check,

your 'last seen at',

every single time,

I get free,

just to make,

another small conversation;

those little conversations,

mean more to me,

than you would ever know.

How I stare aimlessly,

at your display picture,

waiting for the phone,

to beep and vibrate;

only if you knew,

how closely I look at,

those small details,

a certified stalker,
you tend to make me.

How I tend to think,

harder and harder,

when it takes,

one second,

and forty five more microseconds,

for your status to change from,

online to typing;

I wonder who you're busy chatting with,

yes one little silly bastard I am.

How I wish,

those emojis,

could have conveyed,

a little more emotions,

I could have known,

what you think,

when I text you, 

thirty three times,

a small single day.

How I wish,

it was your voice,

it was your laughter,

instead of the simple lol,

and uncountable hahaha,

I could have actually been,

a little more proud,

of the humor,

that I possess.

My thoughts,

as mindless as,

my talks,

tend to resonate,

at one corner,

of my head,

I think,

I smile,

I What's App you,

and smile a little more.

P.S: I begun writing this initially as What's App texts to someone, last night. As promised, I ended up making a poem out of it.  

Depth Of The Ocean

My joblessness reaches new heights every fucking single day. During one of such jobless stretch, I begun pondering what my life could have been if there wasn't any TV involved. I remember those DD shows on that black and white TV when I was a child, those nostalgic cricket matches, lame movies like 'Kaho Na Pyaar Hain' and awesome television shows like Sa Re Ga Ma Pa and Close Up Antakshari. Eventually, music grabbed a lot of attention. I remember listening to those morning shows on MTV while getting ready and those evenings spent with Nikhil Chinappa hosting an exciting show when he would call users and play songs of their choice. I grew up watching Euphoria and my charismatic God Sri Sri Palash Sen sing Maaeri and Rimi Sen, gorgeous as ever in that music video. I remember Bombay Vikings' "Wo Chali Wo chali" or Silk Route's 'dooba dooba rehta hoon main". I remember every single song they played. I remember them better than the name of my schoolmates or what was taught in the school in 6th or 7th standard. 

One of such songs which remained in my head was "arey ruk jaa re bandeh" from Black Friday. That almost-an-adolescent guy could never get over with those meaningful lines "Kise kaafir kahega, kise kayar kahega, teri kab tak chalegi ho". I remembered it of course for the bullying nature of my classmates at that time (or in better words, throughout my school life). Later both the filmmaker and the music composers became my favorites, capturing my vision of pan-Indian perfection. Two years later, Vatsal, a friend of mine, came up with this song in one of our guitar class's session. And I could sing those lines again on the top of the voice. Vatsal brought Indian Ocean to my attention telling that the guitarist looks real down-to-earth but has his own style of playing, he was of course, referring to none other than Sushmit Sen. In the next class, I bought a Rs. 10 CD-ROM and gave it to him and a week later, I had a couple of Indian Ocean's songs. One was "Bandeh" and the other one was "Kandisa".

I kept listening to them all day long in the music player with the guitar in my hand, trying to figure out the progression of those songs, those intricately done guitar leads and those perfectly complementing bass and percussion. I listened to those songs, every single day, perhaps more than thousand times till now and I memorized those songs. The music was different. It had something unique. It didn't merely go for heavy drums. It had folk, it had rock, it had those neatly done guitar leads, it had a soul in it, the Indian soul. In the due course of time, artists like Shafaqt Amanat Ali (and his band Fuzon) Jal, Raeth and uncountable others became my favorites and the frequency of listening to those two songs decreased day by day and then that love for Indian Ocean's music died a slow death. (I don't even remember where that CD is currently, lying along with hundreds of other CDs.  

Lost, Found and Lost Again:

Amir Khan's hard work never goes unnoticed. It's his way of working and doing thing uniquely that always catches my attention. I had become his fan after gigs like Rang De Basanti and Taare Zameen Par and then his production making "Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na". This time the movie of his production house had the village life involved. Yes, the movie was "Peepli Live". I never really ended up watching the movie, but the movie made me rediscover my lost love, Indian Ocean. The song was "Des mera" and the first time I listened to it, I instantly got nostalgic about the song arrangement, the way the rhythm was done, the way folk was involved, apart from those beautiful lines "Des mera rangrez hain baabu, ghaat ghaat yaha dikhta jaadoo". I knew where it was coming from. I instantly called Vatsal to tell him about this song and a couple of hours later, we were revisiting Indian Ocean together, we were trying to play the leads of Bandeh again, we were screaming our lungs out while singing Kandisa. Once Peepli Live fever was over, we forgot the song again.

Lost, Found, Lost Again and Found Again:

Once again, TV was the catalyst in our reunion. This time, it was MTV, it was MTV Unplugged. This was post-Asheem-Chakravarty-death-era. There was this one young guy with the percussion section along with Amit Kilam and another guy in kurta singing along with Rahul. I listened to them, I watched the repeat again and then I youtubed those songs. I remember every bit of that show. The way Rahul was dressed up, the way Sushmit played it, the unorthodox music, everything! One fine morning, I watched the repeat telecast and then hurried up to catch a train. Bored, I Googled about Indian Ocean, about what it is, about Asheem, Sushmit, Rahul, Amit. I visited their website and came to know about their real depths. About their professionalism, about their passion for music, about Susmit meeting Asheem for the first time in a concert, about their jam sessions, about Sushmit's dad insisting the name Indian Ocean, about their first recording, about Rahul Ram joining the band after his return to India, about their rise to success and their journey so far and of course about Asheem's unfortunate demise. Their songs became a part and parcel of my daily life. I am yet to watch "Leaving Home", their biopic. 

About the band:

The history of the band is quite appealing (Considering the length of the article, I considered not giving a lot of insight. It can be read here in a detailed manner). The line-up of the band that witnessed their rise to fame consisted Rahul Ram on bass guitar and vocals, Asheem Chakravathy on percussion and vocals, Amit Kilam on drums and other instruments, and Sushmit Sen on guitar. Asheem died on Dec. 2009 due to a cardiac arrest. His connoisseurship of rhythm shall always be missed. His replacements have been Tuheen Sen on percussion and Himanshu Joshi on vocals and other instruments (I apparently saw him supporting with the percussion part during their MTV unplugged performance).

With and Without Susmit:

Sushmit has been a self taught musician. Quoting the band's original website, he "has virtually invented a new style of playing the guitar – an uncannily Indian sound where purity of scale reigns, strong melodic lines woven around the drone of open strings." His simplistic looks and the depths of his playing moved him to the position of God in my eyes. He plays a special series of guitar named after him: The SS Series. On June 12,2013, I came across this status update on their official Facebook page

Very Important Update: Susmit Sen is leaving Indian Ocean after 23 years of a long and fruitful association. Susmit and Asheem co-founded the band way back in 1990. Susmit will focus more on his solo career with his new band Susmit Sen Chronicles. Nikhil Rao is our new guitar player! We wish Susmit all the best in his bold new step, and we are going to continue to have lots of fun making new music and playing all over the world!

This was indeed shocking,. However, my best wishes shall stay with both Susmit  Sen Chronicles and Indian Ocean.

The Journey ahead:

Indian Ocean remains a firm believer of the philosophy that the show must go on. They are actively busy touring with their new line-up. However, what I truly doubt is whether it would remain the same without the backbones of the band. I don't even know if my soul would dance madly to their tunes revolving highly around Susmit and Asheem's playing. However, the way Susmit, Asheem, Rahul and Amit have traveled this successful journey, their stories shall be remembered for ages to come. :) 

Happy Birthday Dada

I am not the best person to write an article about a cricketer. Although cricket is our 'national religion' and we are supposed to be theists in this particular case, I lack the knowledge necessary to  write a biographical article about a cricketer. However, I have always adored this particular cricketer and today on 8th July (his birthday) I can't have a better way of wishing him than writing about him, although the faint probability that he would ever come across this particular article remains less than the probability that I would attend all the lectures without dozing off in the afternoon slots. This one's for you, my hero. 

"Hurry up! Complete your dinner" Baba exclaimed, clearly excited as he didn't wanted to miss this one. As soon I completed eating and washed my hands, he took me and hurried to the house of some XYZ Patel who, at that time was privileged enough to have a color TV at home. This dates back to my childhood, when I was probably 3 or 4 years old. This match, was one between Pakistan and India I guess, which clearly justifies Baba's excitement. Day-Night ODIs were a rage those days . I don't know where the match was played, neither do I know who won it but I clearly remember a tiny piece of conversation between Baba and Patel Uncle. "Dekho aaj Tendulkar aur Dada khel rahe hai. India chase kar legi! " Patel uncle exclaimed. In reaction to that, I, sitting next to Baba asked "Baba, Dada is in Calcutta right? How is he playing in the TV?". For me, Dada was my cousin brother living in Kolkata. I didn't have any idea about the other Dada. Both the gentlemen bursted out in laughter. Yes, childish inquisitiveness gets embarrassing at times. I never got the answer from Baba that day, however, I couldn't forget that little piece of conversation between the two of us. 

The coming years saw some significant developments. Color TV had finally become a necessity for the middle class. Baba bought a 21-inch Sony TV, finally replacing the old black and white TV. This was probably when I was 5. Life was good with color TV now. The most significant change for me was that Baba stopped telling me to hurry up with dinner on the days of Day-Night matches. I could eat on the dining table and could the the men in blue in action. Two faces became familiar to me who used to walk down in the beginning of the blue team's batting innings. One had a taller stature than the other, with a ferocious look in his eyes. He was called the 'Bengal Tiger'. I loved those matches in which both of these guys played well and it was natural for me to get upset if they didn't. ICC knockOut championship, 2000 was a memorable series which I remember. Although I was just 7, I clearly felt dejected with the blue team losing the finals to the black team, although that guy with a taller stature than the other, whom Baba referred to as Dada played well.

In the successive years, my sense of understanding improved. So did my bonding with TV, cricket and men in blue. I now knew that guy's name. Sourav Chandidas Ganguly, THE captain of Indian cricket team. By now, S.C. Ganguly had become my first sporting hero. Under his captaincy, team India witnessed a new

dawn. He mentored numerous players to get the best out of them. Who can forget those memorable moments of Natwest Series 2002 when Dada out of excitement removed his shirt to celebrate the victory of the men in blue in the tournament. Success followed the captain in the coming year with India reaching the finals of 2003 ICC World Cup. Dada won a million hearts due to his frank behavior, ferocious attitude and vision.

However, just like a lot other sporting heroes, Dada too was surrounded in controversies numerous times. The incidents like his 'chickening out' of Nagpur test, losing a match to Bangladesh, the famous controversy with Greg Chapel and later with Kolkata Knight Riders' coach John Buchanan, his exit from the Indian cricket team never kept him away from media. Dada continues to remain the favorite child of controversy.

His exit from the Indian side was heart breaking for me. I always adored him as a hero and no one can really see their hero failing in life. However, the Bengal tiger wasn't done with it. I remember one cold drink's ad of his, when he was sidelined  from the team in which he uttered those unforgettable words "Bhoole toh nahi?'' He smiled in the ad but the pain was visible, a pain that Dada and his devotees shared mutually. It was difficult to see the Fab 5 incomplete. However, just like a true sporting hero, he made a comeback in 2007. And the comeback wasn't a lukewarm one. It was red hot, and an appropriate reply with his bat to silence all  his critics. He was fitter than ever and the average after his comeback remained better than his career average.

This fantastic journey of an awesome cricketer finally came to an end on 6th November, 2008. He played his last test against Australia. Moist eyes of mine bid adieu to someone who was more than a cricketer for me. He was my idol, a hero who never bowed against bullies, had a backbone strong enough to stand against the odds. His attitude towards life made him stand apart as the best captain of the Indian cricket team. Although I won't really like to compare, this photo tells the story:

5 Random Songs From Bollywood That Lift Your Spirit

1. O Saiyaan  (Agneepath)

Music: Ajay-Atul
Lyrics: Amitabh Bhattacharya
Singer: Roop Kumar Rathod

This song witnesses a soulful combination of lyrics and music. Ajay-Atul have worked hard with the music to produce something that forces you to close your eyes and experience the beauty every time you listen to this song. Amitabh Bhattacharya brilliantly conveys the feelings of a girl who finally gets the person whom she had fallen for. When it comes to singing, Roop Kumar Rathod's golden voice brings life to the music. Although this song conveys feminine feelings, the listeners, irrespective of their sex, can relate to the feelings involved.   

2.  Tere Bin (Delhi Heights) 

Singer and songwriter: Rabbi Shergill


My memories with Rabbi date back to the time when I first heard 'Bulla' and fell in love with it's catchy music. And my love for his songs have never experienced any change. This song is as romantic as it gets. The song has been written in Punjabi but the lyrics can be understood quite easily, which expresses the feelings of a person missing his beloved. The song has been picturised on Jimmy Shergill who appears to be broken down after breaking up with his girlfriend (I have never seen the movie actually!). People who have recently broken up are vulnerable to tears after listening to this song.

3.  Iktara (Wake Up Sid)

Music: Amit Trivedi
Lyrics: Amitabh Bhattacharya
Singers: Amitabh Bhattacharya, Kavita Seth

Iktara is the perfect song to start the day with. The music, by guest composer Amit Trivedi is a fusion of Sufi with a beautiful mixture of guitar strumming and drums. This song compels you to nod to the music and makes attempt to distinguish it from the others. Amitabh Bhattacharya did a  fantastic work with the lyrics and with singing the refrain 'goonja sa hai koi iktara'. Kavita Seth with her bold and clear voice takes the song to a different level adding the beauty of Sufism. I love the reprise version of it as well, sung by Tochi Raina.

4. Tumse Yuh Milenge (Ankahee)

Music: Pritam
Lyrics: Subrat Sinha
Singer: Kunal Ganjawala

This song sets up the mood of the movie quite beautifully. The song has been picturised on the love triangle of Aftab, Esha and Amisha in the movie. The lyrics again is done beautifully and makes the song romantic. Pritam has done excellent job in composing this ballad, adding all the romance to the song he could. However the real credit goes to Kunal Ganjawala's singing. His loud and clear voice perfectly matches the song requirement and he sing's it quite effortlessly. 

5. Alvida (Life In A... Metro) 

Music: Pritam
Lyrics: Syed Quadri
Singer: Kay Kay

Alvida is hard rock song composed by Pritam. The singer bids adieu to his beloved. This song is all about moving on, especially the case when one moves on and the other still remains attached. Kay Kay has sung the song well, especially doing well with the high notes and the portions which required a clear throw. The sounds of distortion guitar and drums elevates the intensity of this song and a listener can actually feel the pain involved. The reprise version, sung by James gets ever more intense.