bona fide falcon
Hey guys!
I’d like to get started with this piece.
Piece That I’m About To Start.
But before I get into the piece, I want to share a track that I really enjoy. It’s called Carry Me Home by KOKOROKO. It’s pure, smooth, sweet, and groovy, like skiing down a chocolate sundae.
The problem is that I discovered this song several months ago and, when I’m in the mood to listen to music, I’ll mash this one (or a select other few) on repeat.
In other words, I’m finding it very hard to listen to new music.
I’m realizing that much of my appreciation for new music happens due to various social elements—discovering new artists at venues, discussing new releases with my friends, exchanging recommendations spontaneously, listening to music while walking, etc. My motivation to update my mental library is fizzling out as I sit at home.
So now, I’m left replaying old albums while I sip coffee in the morning (this is no complaint, just a new status quo) and overstuffing my playlists with never-to-be-heard music the way people hoard canned beans for the apocalypse. Nothing else is as stimulating. I had high expectations that Netflix’s Tiger King would pull me out of my entertainment slump, but it turned out to be underwhelming. Either way, there’s nothing else exciting going on right now.
I’ve been thinking about this new paradigm where my focus is on the past because every present moment blends together. I’m listening to old, repeated music and, being at home with my parents, I’m uncovering photos and souvenirs from when I was younger that pique my interest. Most recently, I’ve been thinking about childhood memories, especially considering my post from last week, where I reflected on the joys of imaginary lightsaber fighting.
It made me curious about my friend’s childhood memories as well.
So I asked my good friend Nikil to share a childhood anecdote of his own with me, and, after hearing it out and getting his stamp of approval, have decided to share it here (with heavy embellishment and heroic undertones).
Before I jump into that…
…My friends do cool things too!
Nikil has delivered not only a wonderful childhood anecdote but also another weekly track review, which, given the habits I’ve mentioned above, will likely sit in my new playlist for days before I listen to them.
My friend Rishin plays Go and produces music, among other things. Here’s a snippet of one of his music drafts which I seriously encourage you to listen to for the rest of this reading:
My friend Shaurya DJ’ed on an online radio station called Solstice.FM this past Saturday—check out the website’s schedule for future events.
Nitin, whose SoundCloud tracks I’ve shared here before, has embarked on the Spotify Artist phase of his musical journey. Follow him here!
And now, onto Nikil’s anecdote.
Captain FalCon-Artist
The sad truth is that most of us don’t realize that we’re heroes. We think that we’re ordinary. That we are not made of steel deep within. This is a lie that we’re fed over and over again from an early age.
One of my best friends, Nikil Ramanathan, is one such hero who, as a child, demonstrated courage that few others would dare to match.
He was about 6 years old (circa 2002) when the incident occurred. The boy used to be a martial arts connoisseur. Not real martial arts, mind you, nor even real life physical fighting. No, the man was a fan of the hit party-turned-worldwide-competitive video game Super Smash Bros. Melee.
His friend owned the game, so they’d play for hours. Occasionally, Nikil’s younger brother Arjun, only 4 years old, would join them. I’d say that Nikil frequently chose Captain Falcon as his simulated fighter, but the truth is, Captain Falcon chose him.
Nikil, his friend, and Arjun played this game for weeks until Nikil finally decided that he wanted to own the game too. He asked his parents, Lord and Lady Ramanathan, to purchase a GameCube for him so he could enjoy it as well. “Just as a swordsman must own a blade, I must own this simulated cartoon fighting game,” I believe were his exact words. They agreed--but Nikil forgot one important detail. Being a six-year-old child, with no real knowledge of the world, he did not understand the complicated insider details of the gaming industry--he assumed that all GameCubes came with Super Smash Bros. Melee.
His parents agreed to his request, of course, for he was a wonderful child and always set the dinner table two hours early. When they bought the GameCube system, imagine our poor hero’s disappointment that it of course did not automatically come with Super Smash Bros. Melee. They did buy Madden 2002, citing their glorious child’s love of American football for their decision, and while it was fun for some time, it wasn’t enough for him, like gifting a sniper with a slingshot.
So, Nikil, a naive young lad trusting the ways of the world, tentatively added another request: that his parents purchase Super Smash Bros. Melee as well.
But his parents were no slacks. They came from lands of the East, where duplicity was not tolerated. At the store, lo and behold, they found a copy of Super Smash Bros. Melee. They inspected it thoroughly, however, and found that it was a T-rated game, for teenagers only, and Nikil was less than half the minimum age required to play it. They denied their son’s request. “You are six years old and your brother is four. Why do you need a T-rated game? You are too young and weak.”
Young he may have been, my Lord and Lady, but sometimes, age of spirit does not match age of the body. Our hero was at least seven-thousand years in spirit, but it seems that his own parents were blind to his potential.
Nikil hatched a plan to acquire Super Smash Bros. Melee because heroes do not give up. He requested that his friend come over one day to play Super Smash Bros. Melee and asked to borrow the game afterwards. And thus our hero succeeded--temporarily.
He played in secret for the next few days. Sometimes alone, sometimes with his brother, sometimes just watching CPU characters play against each other and transcribing their strategies into a notebook for further study, sometimes dressing up as the characters and method acting their move sets. It was the perfect life, but it was tainted with its secrecy.
His parents, of course, discovered his treachery quickly. They found the Melee game box in his room one day and questioned him about it.
“What is this?” his parents bellowed.
“Um, this is the game that my friend lent to me.”
“Isn’t this the same game that we saw at the store the other day?” Lady Ramanathan asked.
“No! No, it’s not the same one,” said Nikil. His palms were sweating. “It just looks similar.”
“This looks like a T-rated game! For teens! That can’t be appropriate for someone your age, can it?”
“Oh, no no!” Nikil blurted. “They released a memo the other day, they changed the rating from a T for Teen to an E for Everyone, so it should be okay…”
“A memo, eh?” They were taunting him now.
“Yes, a memo! It’s only T-rated because of cartoon violence, which isn’t even that bad…”
“Not that bad?” asked the Lord and Lady in unison. Then, the Lord continued, “Why, you may not think anything of it, but cartoon violence is the most damaging kind that there is. Cartoons should be funny, silly, and friendly. Like children. And you lied to us.” They left the room in a huff, and Nikil’s younger brother entered soon after.
“Big brother, why hast thou incurred the wrath of our Lord and Lady?”
Nikil sighed. “I made a mistake, little brother. They took away Melee. I’m sorry.”
“Fret not about me, my liege. Do remember that I am young and will likely forget this troubling incident within the week as my cortices slowly expand. But that is life, I suppose. False as a two-faced friend, fickle as a two-headed beast. Would that we were horses to prance about in the gardens of our own making, no?” And with that unnecessarily confusing message and a hearty chuckle, Arjun scampered out of the room.
Within the day, his parents returned Melee to Nikil’s anonymous friend and banned him from acquiring it for years. During this time, Nikil grew sullen and upset. He felt that he lost something dear to him.
Four or five years passed before his parents purchased Super Smash Bros. Melee for him. They realized their folly, that the gaming ratings system is more guideline than rule and that cartoon violence means nothing. Nikil picked up right where he left off.
Today, I know Nikil to be known as one of the feistiest Super Smash Bros. Melee players of all time. In fact, playing Melee is what started our own friendship several years ago, when we played Peach versus Captain Falcon every other night in college. Captain Falcon is an extension of Nikil’s own brain, and now, after hearing his story, I suspect that maybe there’s something more cosmic at play.
And so concludes that tale.
I hope you all have a lovely week ahead, stay safe, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading through this post.
—Chuckry
entertaining read! :)
Funny