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I will twist an oft-told tale. Hold your breath for this one.

There was a crow who borrowed peacock feathers to be stylish.

Instead of being impressed, his crow friends laughed at him for being outlandish.

The peacocks rubbished him.

In my story, however, there is a different ending.

While the crow dances with his peacock feathers, his crow friends cheer him on for thinking out of the box.

The peacocks love him for being one of them.

Caw, caw, said the crow. A cry of celebration.

I say: “Wear your own style. Sing your own tune.”

Rock and pop is what I groove to these days.

I am getting to understand other kinds of music:  Metal. Thrash Metal. Bollywood. Grunge. Country. Punk.

I thump and stomp my feet to their bold, raucous tunes. As do my friends.

We imagine rotating strobe lights, fog, bubbles and transparent flooring.

At first, we move mechanically. Then music takes over our beings. We give in to its rhythm, wild forest beats courses through our veins.

Words, music, dance, words, hair and fashion melt into one another and our world turns into a blur.

My modern-music-averse parents call our music ‘splintering noise from a henhouse when a fox enters’ and liken our moves to ‘vehicles riding through cockscrew bends.’

I argue. They patronise me and make concessions. Shaking their heads, they say ‘music is subjective’.

I am prickled. Does that mean I choose poor quality music?

I don’t think so.

I can say why I fancy a band, the snappy lyrics, the playing,

the context and the spike-gelled mop-top singers.

I have even compiled a list of the ten best rockumentaries.


   Oomna at 14


     Oomna at 8

The same goes with our clothes.

Why do they knit their brows when I wear Masti’s funky silver leash as a chain? Or glitzy tank tops?

Or pout pose to a selfie with earrings made of flouncy peacock feathers?

Or get hassled when Sia and I announce our plans to get a grunge look and tattoos?

What we see as style, they see as abominable.

At this point in our lives, we see these things to be everything. They don’t.

Only time will tell who is right.

Let’s leave it as an open-ended question for now. Copy that?

Wear your own style, sing your own tune

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The way we rock it

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story 9 a
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