Drugging its way to hall of fame

Remember those mundane valentine’s days at school when the only way to celebrate it was to listen to ‘top most romantic hits’ “I will always love you”. Or do you remember the growing up years listening to Beatles, Doors, Bee Gees, etc? Elvis Presley? Jim Morrison? Back then, Valentine’s day was dreamily sitting by your window, ear plugged with “My love is your love”& “Could I have this kiss forever”!

I was going through an article on ’27 club’ by wikipedia. This is supposedly about a curse stating that most musicians who touch the famed chords of success meet with tragic pre-mature deaths. Whitney Houston’s death has brought fore the similar deaths at the altar of drugs. As supporting evidences, they quote death of Kurt Cobain from Nirvana, Jimi Hendrix, Presley, Jim Morrison, Tommy Bolin from Deep Purple etc.

Is the lethal trail of drug overuse mandatory when you reach at the top? Or is the top really so lonely that they find respite in giving themselves pain and taking their life away? Why is there severe drug dependency at the top?  

My generation people, love-filled or lovelorn listened to Whitney Houston. She made it so quixotic and dreamy. She was the voice I heard when I read books by Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë. 

RIP  Whitney Houston

new year and more....

So the New Year begins. A year which is erroneously called as an end to mankind… well I really do not know, if I should stick to my resolution of losing a few kilos, when the motivation is so tepid.

Okay, here I am phenomenally distracted yet again! I thought I shall put up agglomeration of random thoughts, probably better sculpted this time. But my distraction is so chronic now. I think I have been so busy setting my house and habitually checking if things are in order that my distraction comes to my brain like a blizzard in full throttle.

Talking about the new year, I had also thought I would buy fewer clothes now. This is not a resolution but a conscious effort to keep my wardrobe growing like the burgeoning population. I felt a lot of clothes are too expensive, short or incongruent with my lifestyle. When we moved in to this new place, I noticed all kind of clothes I would seldom wear…or maybe ‘will not wear ever’. Some were in sequins, some netted, others jazzy, and so on.

Right now I’m sitting on a cane chair, comfortably cushioned. I look through the balcony trinkets of clouds giving way to an evening. There are huge black rocks formed due to shattering and breaking of mountains. This would have prevented growth of the swatches of grass. The houses built on the hilly terrain looks like the you are maneuvering a huge tray full of cups, saucers, spoons and sugar cubes…. clattering with each other… And the night comes along