Doors to the Doors

Unlike every piece of worth-hearing music, you don't listen to the Doors every time. They are special, not only because they remain one of the most classic hard rock bands ever, but because the Audience has to be in a "Doors" mood to really feel them out.

"There Are Things Known, and Things Unknown, and In Between Are the Doors"

True.

Doors need you to open your minds, and they dive inside, and then they swim in a never ending jelly marshmallow of your insides, and you feel faint and alive at the same time, and you can't sleep and you can't stay awake either, so you hear more and more, more and more, until you lose track of time or your senses, where every fall of the pigeon's feather bangs hard on your soul, and every heartbreak, every dejection falls on feathery ground and is washed away silently, without mattering much to you anymore.

"All right
Wild child full of grace
Savior of the human race
Your cool face
Natural child, terrible child
Not your mother's or your father's child
Your our child, screamin' wild
An ancient lunatic reigns
In the trees of the night
Ha, ha, ha, ha"

* Legends stay on forever. My Respects!




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZRAr354usf8

The Great Gig in the Sky

 "And I am not frightened of dying, any time will do, I don't mind.

Why should I be frightened of dying?
There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime."
"If you can hear this whispering you are dying."
"I never said I was frightened of dying."

Sometimes, just some odd times, you hate the all the preaching in the songs. All that goes on about what-is, what-is-not and what-could-have-been. And to put it just so simply, you give a damn about what the singer croons about. So it’s a big deal huh!

On those nights (yes, it has to be a night), put on a spoonful of Silence into your system first. Intoxicated with the noiseless everything already, do silently turn on your players and open the Floyd folder.

Go to “The Great Gig in the Sky”.     

Hit Play. 

Hit Full Volume.

After a whimper, and a whisper, a series of searing blood curling wails fill up the atmosphere. And as they progress on, with the piano pieces, you would feel all the sense organs of your body having stopped responding to any other stimuli. None at all. Those wordless wails write more and speak more than any other strings of words tied together. Frankly, it is difficult (nay, Impossible!) to document these feelings, just as it is to comprehend how such heavenly pieces of music must have been created.

For people interested in the background of it, the Song “Great Gig in the Sky” was pieced together by Richard Wright, with the wails by Clare Torry, who again was a discovery of Alan Parsons (the Floyd Album Engineer).

Some say, Clare almost declined the offer to sing and went off to a Chuck Berry Concert that night.

Some say, Pink Floyd almost used Astronaut voice recordings in space in the song instead of the Wails.

Some just forgot how history is created!!!

-Palash

May’2013, Lumding.

The Ants of this Night

 White Ants,

Grow wings,

On this night,

Inside the crevices of our momentous celebration.

As the distant drum rolls welcome the rains,

As the parched blades of grass revel in wetness,

As the widows turn out their moth eaten curtains,

Millions of white ants,
Grow wings of elation,

Dancing in million madness’s,

Towards a lesser sun,

Inadequate in its artificiality,

And towards their untimed,

Unplanned, uncorked,

Circle of Death.

-Palash

May’2013, Lumding.