It was a funny feeling.
There were certain vibrations coming form somewhere not so far up, which were terribly exciting. The tympanic membranes vibrated as the metal chords cut across the air as we were carefully climbing up the stairs. We were greeted with a smoky and dark but still well lit up floydian environment. I could see a whitish door directly in front of us with some writings on it. And I slowly panned my vision to the rest of the contents; my eyes stopped at a grinning guy sitting smartly with an ax.
‘Monty this is Chayan”
I was introduced only with these four words as I went up to him, shook his hands, and sat myself down cozily on a chair next to him. And he happily handed me his ax and ordered me to play!
Man imagine this, you love a girl and her father asks you to ‘do whatever you want’ with her! I was a virgin if those beautifully carved bodies were to touch me! (And otherwise!)
I was stared at; by Slash and by Zack Wylde, by Kurt Cobain and by Ozzy Osbourne, and by so many gory and deathly faces from little paper windows all across the walls.
I happily slid my fingers allover the fret board and I could smell creation. I closed my eyes and could see little notes floating in the nothingness. Some were clear and perfectly shaped while the others were quite close to what they were supposed to be. I was playing the electric guitar for the very first time.
I thought I was good.
I felt so fresh and cleaned up.
And then I opened my eyes again, after playing through with Monty’s fourth curvy baby. He was still grinning. He must have seen the passion in my eyes. And then in a gentle voice said he, “you were quite good but now you need to change your way of playing completely and start it all over again”
The words were not at all harsh or painful. They contained meaning, more than what I could infer then.
There were certain vibrations coming form somewhere not so far up, which were terribly exciting. The tympanic membranes vibrated as the metal chords cut across the air as we were carefully climbing up the stairs. We were greeted with a smoky and dark but still well lit up floydian environment. I could see a whitish door directly in front of us with some writings on it. And I slowly panned my vision to the rest of the contents; my eyes stopped at a grinning guy sitting smartly with an ax.
‘Monty this is Chayan”
I was introduced only with these four words as I went up to him, shook his hands, and sat myself down cozily on a chair next to him. And he happily handed me his ax and ordered me to play!
Man imagine this, you love a girl and her father asks you to ‘do whatever you want’ with her! I was a virgin if those beautifully carved bodies were to touch me! (And otherwise!)
I was stared at; by Slash and by Zack Wylde, by Kurt Cobain and by Ozzy Osbourne, and by so many gory and deathly faces from little paper windows all across the walls.
I happily slid my fingers allover the fret board and I could smell creation. I closed my eyes and could see little notes floating in the nothingness. Some were clear and perfectly shaped while the others were quite close to what they were supposed to be. I was playing the electric guitar for the very first time.
I thought I was good.
I felt so fresh and cleaned up.
And then I opened my eyes again, after playing through with Monty’s fourth curvy baby. He was still grinning. He must have seen the passion in my eyes. And then in a gentle voice said he, “you were quite good but now you need to change your way of playing completely and start it all over again”
The words were not at all harsh or painful. They contained meaning, more than what I could infer then.
