There is a new form of self-torture. It's called drowning in a bottle of coke in the absence of anything else to eat or drink. At such times, an irrational feeling of resentment for the world takes over. Have work to complete, but I'm hungry now and this is all there is, unfortunately.
Have an urge to write about this weekend. Interesting concerts - very interesting concerts. The electronic rock band on Saturday was excellent. They had a special sound - very difficult to encounter their kind of music in Delhi. I was absolutely taken in by the music. Lots of insane dancing and obviously, I felt completely submerged. My mind and body were dragged into a deep, rhythmic flow.
The other one this morning. I liked the country rock band. They were French, but they sang American songs too - the accent was obviously disjointed but they sang very well. The Congolese band after them was excellent. They got on stage and went immediately into their continuous, rhythmic beat. Realized that I have an African soul - loved the grooving sound. And boy, could they MOVE! Like they were possessed by a powerful dancing spirit. I have to find Afro concerts in the future - and dance. The Algerian band were good too. They had an Arabic sound, very smooth - more soporific, and yet groovy.
It was slightly excruciating to watch some guys in the audience get on stage and brandish their arms about obnoxiously - at one point, this guy completely lost it and actually took the mic. over from one of the singers. This irritated me immensely. Yet another form of self-torture: watch Delhi boys dance to rock disco-style. Thankfully, there was a garden patch at the back from where you could hear the music perfectly but not see the spectacle on stage. Felt bad for the bands. Oh, and of course, one of these boys grabbed a white girl dancing with her friends and refused to let go of her hand.