BITS Pilani
Fade in Music. Lusty Guitar Riffs in the distance. Industrial Base distortion in the air. Rich kids on crack shouting like their genitals are on fire.
And they ought to be, for Rock ‘n’ Roll is the Devil’s worship. When the musty drugs are high, and the cheap beer kicks in; when the sweat is hot, and the hormones take control – Music is salvation. The odd guitar lick gyrates in your head, it’s opiate vibrations feeding on the most extreme thoughts in your brain, reminding you how your life is spinning out of control – how your average tequila vomits per week are higher than your college attendance, or how that tasteful chick with the perky tits you met at a poet friend’s place is doing the rounds of your wet dreams more than your current girlfriend does, or how you’re jerking off on the orange napkins your mother gifted you the last month you bathed, when you’re not stealing money from her purse to massage your narcotic lifestyle.
Yet you scream till your kidneys explode, and try to forget that life will always suck for an average person like you. That’s when you know that you’re in a rock concert, a shrine of Lucifer – a revolutionary, a non-conformist, a leader, a giver of hope.
Welcome to BITS Pilani.