Rock, Metal and Hair

So a week ago, my beard and hair got fired from my job and I had to go get a haircut and shave off my mane.

A minute of silence for the deceased and departed. May they rest in peace, miss you forever. </3

But this is not about that. Before my boss asked me to go and get a hair cut, he told me a tale from his college days. “There was this guy, who was a lot into the metal scene at that time,” he told. “And I would always walk up to him and ask Bruh! I understand the head-banging part. But what I do not understand is the hair and beard. Can you give me a reason why you metalheads have to have long hair and a beard? And not even once could he tell me why he needs to have his hair grown. Get a hair cut.”

So I wept and wept about my hair, but in the back of my head the question had dug a hole, heated the mug and made some bricks and built itself a home. It was refusing to let go of my head. It demanded a proper answer and then only it would go, as he said. Which left me with no option at all but to find an appropriate answer. So being the thought experimenting scientist that I am, I began collecting my facts.

I first leaned towards the euphoric feeling one gets when they headbang with the hair long. I mean anyone who has ever had long hair, knows how it feels to headbang with long hair. It’s like an afterthought one has after a thrilling experience. For example, when you’d cliff dive the moment you make your first dive would be just an impulsive action, not a deliberate one and therefore after you have leaped from the cliff and you’re suspended in mid-air, your brain goes, “Holla holla holla! Did I actually do it?” and then the brain fact checks. Am I in the air? Check. Are you sure I have suspended myself mid-air? Yes. So you’re saying there is no, and I mean absolutely no ground beneath my whole essence? YES! And this point you feel a tingling in your entire body, searching for land anywhere, SOMEWHERE around itself. And then this happens:

“H@#$ S*$%! I actually did it! What the f@*& got to me!?!”

And I thought that this is why rockers and heavy metal fans have got long hair. But then I realized, that this is only partially true. Primarily because this does not explain the beard and also because there are all sorts of rockers. I mean look at Chris Motionless, from Motionless In White. He’s got short hair but is bald from the sides, making it weird bangs with mohawk-ish hair cut. And then there is Andrew Stockdale from Wolfmother. He has got a decent afro, just overgrown. And then there is Hayley Williams, from Paramore. She was a girl and had long hair and she cut them down. Amy Lee from Evanescence.

Wow. Amy Lee from Evanescence.

Sorry, got lost in my thoughts there. But she is pretty normal. Normal hair. What’s with rock/metal and hair/beard?

Then, I came up with an explanation which fits. Which fills all the holes and builds all the bridges and it is pretty simple. For this one has to go back to the roots of rock and metal. The answer lays at the very foundation of rock/metal. The answer is the same as a band called itself The Sex Pistols and went up on the stage of a completely booked tour only for the singer to pick up the mic and say “F*** Y**,” (Yeah that’s true. They didn’t even bother about their fans. They left them and didn’t sing a single song.) The answer is the same as you find metalheads with tattoos. The same as the metalheads with piercing which have now enlarged themselves to stretching and enlargement of them. The same as Amy Lee dressing up as a Goth with heavy makeup as if she was a person with no sleep at all.

Rebellion. The reason why rock exists is rebellion and rebellion are what rock stands for. When the world adjusted itself to the loud rock music, we evolved to metal and then to metalcore. Then we screamed lyrics about death and made it deathcore. Just because, we don’t care. Just because you cannot control me or my thoughts. Just because I will do what I want. Just because society’s rules aren’t correct and I’d like to make a statement that I am not ruled by them. Just because I accept that I am weird and creepy and I embrace the fact.

What’s the easiest way to embrace this rebellion as a religion?

Tattoos? They’re costly. Piercings? Time-consuming. Hear my music out loud? We already do that! Do my makeup? It involves skill and efforts.

Grow my hair.

Think about it.


The Aroma Of Self-Cooked Meals

Now that I can finally say it out loud, here is a tiny-little change in my life. An itsy-bitsy change. I am now living alone, in a flat, where everything is done, managed, arranged by me. (Tiny change.)

I was never one to socialize. Ever. So the silence in the flat is like music to my ears. The solitude is comforting as humans make me anxious. The noises around me are just the ones in my head and I am loving every second of it. But my taoist soul knows that to every yang there is bound to be a yin.

The silence is a double-edged sword, it makes me queiter too. And one of the things which I really really miss, is the excuse to laugh.

When we are surrounded by humans, we find out reasons to smile or to laugh so frequently that we tend to ignore about them. The opportunity to smile loses the face value that it holds the more and more it is shared. While being on the same page, I finally realize how much I love to laugh, despite being accepting and embracing of the fact that I have a goth side that tends to come out so often that we cannot say that it “comes out”. And now I was living my life, in silence.

Until recently, there has been a tiffin service that I was reaping the benefits of and just two days back, I got my gas stove. So I can finally cook my own meals, more on that some other day.  I am not a chef. Hell, I am not even a cook! I have been preparing meals for me before this solitude too sometimes, but that was entirely different.  So when I cooked my entire meal for the first time yesterday afternoon, I came to a realization which strengthen over the 3 more meals  I made after that.

When I chop my vegetables, I often hum a tune alien to me. When I am using the rolling pin, I am almost always smiling. And when the veggies finally hit the flavored, crackling oil, and the aroma of food cooked by my own hands, hits my head and takes me to the meals my mother makes; I laugh out loud for two entire minutes.

There is something about cooking food that is so entertaining! You know what I mean? Something so powerful that it drives me to places unimaginable. The aroma of freshly cooked food has for the last couple of days has amused me so much that I secretly look forward to cooking.

Just to have my nostril drive my thoughts to home and the meals that my mother cook, which is now the only thing I call food.

With love,


Recycling, Reusing and Repurposing

Nostalgia. I remember when I was in school, a few days before the seeming freedom a friend of mine dropped all his friends a text. A few days before the final exam, the message read, “Coming to School tomorrow?” And in that instant, the reality of the situation hit our bellies like a wrecking ball. The bittersweet aftertaste, matured for 12 years had finally indeed hit our heads. Intoxicating us.

Today as I write this seemingly absurd contemplation, I am reminded of the same. Nostalgia.

Nostalgia for the blog I began and reshaped so many times. Nostalgia for the similar yet ever evolving *tap-tap-tap* of the keyboards I have used. Nostalgia for the flat that I am in. Where I shall be in sweet solitude for . . , let’s say, a while now. Nostalgia for my parents, with whom I lived for so long! And nostalgia for myself and what has become of me.

I can’t write a lot as of now. I have to pick the minds of the greatest weavers of the history. (Much more than you have you eat mine!) But all that I can say right now is, I am recycling this. I am going to reuse this website.
And this will be repurposed, yet again.

For at this very moment, on the 5th of July 2017, 2:51 am I sit half-naked, under a fan in a nearly empty flat. Feeling nostalgic and cathartic.

But at this moment the tonic is not matured for 12 years, but 20.

To your good health!

Quote Challenge, Day 1

This challenge has been sent to me by and this is seriously challenging.

Not cause I don’t know enough quotes. I started compiling quotes from my favorite songs, movies, books and even advertisements last year. And about fifteen of them are tagged on to my wall. It’s a challenge cause I don’t actually know 9 bloggers to challenge.

So they’re all a shot in the dark.
And this is my first challenge so if I don’t do as it was meant to be, apologies.

Writing a blog majorly focused on love, I know you guys are eager to see a love quote here. But there’ll be three themes for three days. I was a severely pessimistic person before. Then love morphed me into a butterfly. Then I am super optimistic. So the three themes will be Pessimistic, then a love quote and finally a motivation quote.

So today’s quote is;
Into the fire she consumed all their hate.
Silent Hill

Today’s theme is darkness and this hits the nail. Be it video game or movie, the Silent Hill franchise is my favorite.
This quote here reflects brokenness so perfectly. Into the fire she consumed all their hate. All of their hate added fuel to an inferno inside her. All just made push and push forward. And finally tip over. And she burnt herself.

I challenge:


Can I take a photograph of yours?

Absolutely not.

I will treasure a moment with my girlfriend and make it indestructible with a photograph.

Your word usage won’t change my mind.

Okay. But can you tell me the reason why?

‘Cause I look like a wreck!

Mademoiselle, a perfect wreck too is a thing of supreme beauty.

Life as a Conflict

It is a conflict between the definite and indefinote prepositions and the dispositions.
The conflict between the spiderweb of connections and concoctions.
The conflict between the yin and the yang.
A conflict of prejudices and derivatives derived.

And this makes the most simplest of our conversations into poetry.


It’s very unlikely of me to do this but for the first time, I will.
I’m going to share one of the most…..  The best……  I don’t know. 😦
I’m seriously in tears. 😦
It’s very….  Just read it. I can’t say anything right now.

Fast and Furious 7:
Ramsey: You aren’t going to say goodbye?
Dom: It’s never a goodbye.


It’s not about anything from the scene or the movie or the whole franchise.
It’s about Paul Walker and Vin Diesel.

It’s about Vin Diesel.
It must’ve been so hard to do that last scene.
So hard.

Rest in peace, Walker.


Greetings human,
This is Adwitiya Dixit taking a bit of time to apologize and thank you. Apology because I have not been blogging properly. I’ve been under the weather for a while. And yesterday I wanted to blog but I hyperbolically swooned.
Thankew all (yes ew. I love ew.) for reading and liking. I’m really happy that you are like with what I am experimenting and you’ve been given me the ease in the tension of my leash of populace pleasure by liking he new experiments I’ve been itching to do. All new followers, thank you. All the readers, thank you. All in all, thank you all for your time that you are investing here.

One thing more, if you have any complains or critical accusations or technical faults that you want to report feel free to comment them here.
Want to connect with me, then follow me on Twitter, @adwitiyadixit mail me maybe,
And soon I will be adding some more here because I’ve been having some ideas about adding the bazzam to the blog. Trying to provide more time to it too.

Stay connected, stay healthy. Keep reading. And be you.

“I am that I am”

Your’s apologetically,
Adwitiya Dixit

Self Cannabalism

Now there is a reason behind why I don’t like the laptop for the purpose of writing. I can’t use auto correct and that leads to a lot more work, I have to point and place and then place the hyphens and the inverted comas and what not. All the periphery of punctuation leads to a lot more work on the laptop and leads to be more time consuming.

But I also love writing on a laptop because of the shorter keyboard and the actuality of a keyboard and tangible buttons feel so good on the fingers my speed is not hampered at all, I can type faster on the keyboard.

And yes you are right, I am using a laptop at the current moment to write this blog.

The thing is that I must’ve done something or the other wrong. ‘Cause I find it very hard for my readers to stick around for long, and that makes me confused. I mean if I don’t write daily, I lose my consistent readers for good and for the obvious reasons I cannot blog daily. I must’ve been wrong at someplace that something is wrong and my readers don’t stick around. And I don’t understand  that something because other bloggers seem to be writing in periods undefined are being read. I don’t know what I do wrong.

The point here is that I have been cannibalizing myself. I have a sudden urge to write a lot of times and I didn’t blog more than one blog (with the exception of a few days in between) for the fear of how can the readers read? Now I have surpassed the fear of being read and have attained the point of self-actualization and I am now writing for myself.

Just joking.

I am creating another category called “Self cannabalism” in which I will upload the posts I have self cannabalised by uploading more than one in the same day. The second thing to be told is now I have all the periphery to work on my novels and poem books. So, I’ll write them now. Super excited for them.

You guys don’t read me. But still, I love you all.

– Adwitiya

Confessions Of A Deluded Mind

Imagine, I’m sitting on a circular table with black chairs. Wearing a white shirt and blue denim jeans. Blue as of the skiest blue you can imagine blue. Sipping coffee from a black mug and wearing white ear-phones which blare out a song called Drink A Beer and I am gazing at a sunset from my parents apartment.

Now the image you have formulated, might be true. But can’t it be wrong? I mean you only imagined what you thought would be normal in the situation provided by me. What would be sane in the provided situation. What if I am sitting on my head and my feet are supported by the wall and I am sipping my cold coffe from a straw than the warm steaming coffee you would’ve imagined? A possibility, though least probable, but can’t be ruled out completely.

Now this had to be (HAD to be) done so that you don’t staight away term me incomprehending insane. Let me quote another example. Example.

I’ve said my point across exactly, and you didn’t even saw it. Huh? Yes, if I talked to myself, I’d kill me too.

When you read the word I said Example, you concluded what would be sane in the situation. That you ruled out the probability that I might have written Examp(capital I)e. Cause it doesn’t make any sense at all. Not your fault. Because it is completely sane approach.

Dem Puns, Brah!

But as I said it is completely, sane for you to think so and completely insane of me to think of bending the sanity. You see I wished something at the current moment which is improbably impossible.

It was 4:45 when I began writing this, (an utter coincidence that it was 45, I’m the least time bound person you might ever meet.) and the sun was pre-setting and I had a sud…

I’m going to do a diploma in Phonetics. There is this word in Urdu which is called talab. I haven’t found it’s exact English cousin. It is pronounced with a soft like the Russians and Germans do. The word means a sudden urge to consume something, primarily. It can also be used to define a sudden urge to do something.

I had a talab to sit in a heavy torrent of rain. To bathe myself in a shivering cold rain. And get wet to my bones. It was a sudden urge to do that. A strong urge to do it. I tried to replicate the feeling by taking a shower with my clothes on. But no, it just didn’t exist.

I hope, that it rains today, just so that I can sit under it and feel it. And I already proved that I am not crazy if I have such a feeling. 😉