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     Volume 7 Issue 39 | September 26, 2008 |

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Interview with the 'Vampires'

Elita Karim

Cartoon By Shahriar Sharif

We dress this way to have people understand the kind of music that we do,” explains one of the musicians. “You see we do heavy metal. It is cool and dark. It is very deathly and one has to know what death tastes like. It is very bloody as well and one needs to know how blood tastes. We are like black shadows, hovering over the city, watching and slurping in the mankind's pain! This is what you hear in our music and this is what you see in our clothes.” That, thought Mozko Owner, is absolutely true. He felt a lot of pain watching and listening to the pimple-faced teenagers drooling all over his recently polished designer sofa set.

Clad in black tees and skin-tight black jeans, the group of five long-haired young, so-called heavy metal musicians were seen waiting for the reporter and photographer at the posh hang-out place in Noya Paltan, Mozko. Initially, the owner of Mozko had refused to let the band in. Calling themselves the Vampires, their pierced eyebrows, torn jeans, fender guitars over their shoulders, exaggerated spikes and dark attitude could not impress the Mozko Owner much. “You are wearing dark shades inside my restaurant, and that too at 8:00 pm in the evening!” cried an indignant Mozko Owner. “I will not have a bunch of aliens in here driving all the normal people out!”

The Vampires' dark attitude could not hold up for much longer. Off came their shades and also their clip-on rings from their eyebrows. “Uncle please!” cried one longhaired musician. “Don't throw us away! The reporter asked us to meet her here. We don't have anywhere else to go. Our parents will come and pick us up after an hour.” Mozko Owner was shocked. “Good lord, you kids have zits the size of borois!,” he cried.

Someone in the restaurant finally calmed Mozko Owner down. He was told that the Vampires' music was the in thing now. The band had even won a contest recently. Rumours have it that the Vampires had haunted everyone's sleep for weeks, which compelled the audience to vote for them via the SMS service. Finally the Vampires were let in, though grudgingly. The reporter had arrived and was watching the commotion with glee.

Once everything had calmed down, the dark attitude was back so were the clip on rings on the eye brows. They didn't dare touch the shades though. Mozko Owner wasn't satisfied. He decided to eavesdrop on the ongoing conversation between the reporter and the Vampires.

“Heavy metal music is supposed to be revolutionary,” says the reporter. “How does your music justify such greatness? I mean, the dark get-up and the fake rings are fine, but what inspires your music?”

“Oh, we visit the graveyard regularly,” replies another drummer. “We get the, you know, feel. You need the feel of death to do heavy metal.”

“Metal rules man!” declares the bassist.

“Do you think your music has a good chance of surviving in the music scene in the country?” asks the reporter.

“Of course!” cries out the vocalist, twiddling on his fake ring on his eye-brows. “We are metal. And our generation loves metal. Metal rules. Besides, the Godfather is on our side. We are bound to survive.”

“Who is the Godfather?” asks the reporter.

“He rules man! He rules!” chants the bassist. “He is one of the greatest musicians of all times.”

“He gave us shelter and food when our families had thrown us away,” pipes in the guitarist. “We had to return the next day though. We had school and all, you know.”

“He has the power! He has metal running inside his blood!” cries out the vocalist. “The Godfather took the Vampires under his wings, helped us win the contest and now we are one of the greatest metal bands in the country!” Mozko Owner had an asthma attack when the vocalist suddenly got up on the sofa to render his speech to a wider audience.

“So he has the money?” asks the reporter. “Of course he does!” says the drummer. “He also has a built in swimming pool!”

“You see,” says the guitarist. “Times have changed. To play an instrument or sing a song, you don't need years of training, a disciplined life or a life filled with sacrifices. Here to be a true musician, you need a godfather who is willing to back you up with money, albums and concerts. So, you see. We have all that we need!”

“Out! Out of my restaurant, you mutants!” cried Mozko Owner all of a sudden. “You rat, quit nibbling on my napkins!” Mozko Owner screamed at the hollow eyed bassist. “And you! Get off my sofa and get out of here! No Godfather is going to save you now!”

And that, dear readers, is how Vampires became legend amongst the young the young band who was found struggling in the mean roads of Noya Paltan in the middle of the night. There did come a time though, when listeners had to take a break from all the growling. However, that was when Godfather played his charms and revitalised the CD sales. He reminded everyone of the revolution that the Vampires had brought about. As for Mozko on Noya Paltan, the Godfather bought it off Mozko Owner. He renamed it the 'Godfather's Den' and used it to feed and shelter future generations of revolutionary bands and musicians.

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