Parsley and Thyme

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How to recognize a rock fan

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The past weekend in Bangalore brought out a lot of ants from their holes. Ummm, I here refer to the many “rock” fans heading for the Metallica concert which was, luckily for them or otherwise, not cancelled in Bangalore. The entomological reference, though cliched, has been used because nothing captures more exactly, a picture of these human beings, so scattered in distribution but with such remarkable uniformity of personality, as they stood soaking at different parts of the dampened city, not much unlike an army of ants out to get to a recently-discovered meal.

As the heavy rain threatened to ruthlessly exploit our vulnerable positions within a speeding auto, we devised a little game to keep up our spirits. And we called it how-to-spot-the-next-rock-fan contest. Here is a ready reckoner, because I am not good at anything that goes beyond making lists.

– A rock fan is always male, mostly below 30 years of age. I gather the adherence to gender arises because females do not care to understand all this fuss about head-banging. Of this particular kind.

– A rock fan is as stuck to the look of rebellion on his face, as a Sumo wrestler is to his belt. It is a weapon that works two ways –

1. to intimidate and keep out the “regular” guys

2. to haul and assess their own kind, as the intensity of the rebel look that a rock fan sports on his visage is almost always directly proportional to the faith in the holy metal grail – that highly amplified distortion and exaggerated machismo can restore intelligence in a hopeless world.

– A rock fan never flouts the rule of black. The color of the collar-less t-shirt (nothing else will do) he flaunts on his torso is sacrosanct – it always is black. And certainly, it has to have the name of the band he currently endorses emblazoned unintelligibly across it, the font showing signs of being sucked into a blazing fire.

– A rock fan never smiles. Or he perhaps doesn’t think the regular, dumb world needs that kind of loving.

– When all the above are true, a rock fan rarely walks alone. His brothers-in-arms are always by his side, walking along with such a focused intensity on their faces that would put Donald Trump in a tremble.

The list is far from being complete and I hope to add to it when I have mustered enough courage to actually meet up with one of the species being described. If he agrees first, that is.


Written by Kanchana

November 2, 2011 at 7:48 am

Posted in General Nonsense

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