“Let’s burn it down baby”, he smiled.
Deep looked at him with a doubt?
“Are you sure Sam? We are already two joints down. We need to be on stage in another 15 minutes.”
Sam was desperate. He needed to separate himself from the real world. He wanted to be in a state of trance.
“I can’t resist”, said Sam.
With one blow on the matchbox, he lit up the third joint.
As he inhaled the thick smoke of the weed (ganja), he realised, he was letting off all worldly attractions.
Deep was too scared. So, he let Sam relish the third joint himself. He wasn’t scared of getting caught. He was scared of screwing it on stage. He was the bassist after all. And he very well knew that Dg, the drummer wouldn’t spare him for any mistake on stage.
Dg was very particular with his band. It was he and Sam who had dreamt of making a group to quench the thirst for music they had.
Sam, however, lately was lost; lost in his own life. Dg knew him well. It was only he who understood Sam completely.
“Stay with Sam, do not let him get high!” warned Dg as he sent Deep to monitor Sam before the show.
But Deep was himself a little more attracted towards the sinful paths of glory.
As he saw Sam, take the last puff, he knew he was in trouble.
As the last rush of weed mixed tobacco entered his blood, Sam sensed his heart beat rising. He could hear his own heart beats as loud as a thunder racing ahead of time, trying to make out a song with a very different beat. His eyes very getting closed. There was a constant smile on his face. (The side-effects of Weed. You just can’t stop laughing.) His cheek bones were paining because of the constant stretch of the muscles as he couldn’t avoid an obvious smile.
Deep saw his eyes turn blood red.
“You can sing right? You won’t screw it?” asked a worried Deep.
“I need to stay alone Deep. I am locking myself on the other side of the music room. Call me when you have 5 minutes to go” said an already-high Sam.
Way back near the dressing room, Prashant (who was better known as “Daddy”) was tuning his guitar, when he saw a worried Dg come.
“What’s the matter Dg?”
“Damn. Both Deep and Sam are missing. We have another fifteen minutes to go. I needed to make sure that Sam remembered the sequence of the songs.” Said Dg
“Don’t tell me they are getting high!”
Dg didn’t reply. He just shrugged.
“Damn. If Sam comes high and screws the show, I am going to look for another vocalist for the band. If he has personal problems, he better solve it. I can’t always be a laughing stock on stage. You better tell him!” snapped “Daddy”.
He was angry. And his anger was just. It had been thrice before this that Sam had gone up on the stage dead high and ended up fooling the name of the band.
Daddy had been patient till date thinking he was playing his part well. But soon he realised, that at the end it’s the band and not individuals who ride the show.
Dg knew such a point would come when there could be a disrupt in the band. “When people lose their ways, their priorities change,” he thought. He wanted to help Sam, but he wasn’t ready to let it out.
Deep came in some time and informed that Sam had locked himself up.
“Ask that Romeo to come here soon Dg or else I’ll start packing my instruments and head back to the hostel.” Daddy gave that disgusted look.
Dg had no other option but go.
“What’s wrong with him? How can he be so damn foolish?” He thought.
As he reached near the music room, he heard the performing band scream on stage,
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is our last song. Hope you enjoy it.”
He knew, he had a maximum of five minutes to get him back on stage.
He took a deep breath and used the key he had stolen back in his second year for easy access to the music room. The door creaked as it opened. It was dark inside.
to be continued….
(This is a semi-fictitious and more of an original account of a musical journey of four different souls who at some point in their lives dreamt to make it Big.
The result was Hoax Call, an alternative rock band which started well but could never end!)