“We have an open Mic in Ubud on Monday night” Flora told me. “Cool” I responded. I was in one of my depressive moods. When I’ve lost my goals, I tend to be low on enthusiasm. So I’m usually up for anything. But I’ve been procrastinating the whole day. And I wasn’t in a mood to leave the comforts of my figurative jail. I didn’t want to be alone, So I hopped on the Flora’s bike for the 1 hour ride. She was riding as a passenger on her friend Emma’s Bike. I got lost for a bit along the way cause I was following them and wasn’t using my GPS. But I course corrected on reason alone and we were at our destination well before the start of the event. I’ve never been to a poetry recital which didn’t involved forced participation. It seems this one takes place every month and had been going on for 6 years. There was a mic at the centre with another on the right side just close enough to a podium. Well I was planning to sit back and enjoy this mind nurturing ride.
Emma and Flora planned to read out poems. So they were wondering where they could sign up. Their Question was answered when the host in dreadlocks came up to the stage. The show would start off in half an hours time. But neither of the Girls were reluctant to put down their names. Each one were waiting for someone else to sign up first. Unfortunately for them, the host called up people at random. Emma was brave enough to be the first among us to participate. But lucky for her , she wasn’t asked to be the first to dole out her magical rhymes. Poets and writers are odd creatures. We want the attention but we don’t want to be first among our peers to bare ourselves to the rest. That’s why the Number One spot was left blank on the sign up card.
Our host started off with a lyrical rhyme. From his accent and the subject matter of his topic, I was able to ascertain he was from the States. It seems he had travelled a bit around India. “It’s an amazement” he said, how people were fighting for water in India while Americans could only talk about Janet Jackson’s Nip slip at the Super Bowel. Different priorities I guess. And after him came another who spoke about hope. I was able to resonate with what he said. How some of us can create a problem in others, come up with a well defined quick solution and all of this for a small helpers fee. “Accept who you” he said “And loving someone means accepting them will all their kinks and craziness”. There were a few others and one reminded me how far I’ve fallen from the path of positivity. It seems this night was full of indirect messages from the Universe.
Emma went on but flora couldn’t but I was more fascinated by Self Styled words of a lyrical rapist Rika. She was Dropping words like they were magnum bullets. Damn girl, I Don’t remember what you said but I love they way you delivered it. Though it was her second time on stage, she was able to deliver it with ease. “I was a nerve wreck” she told me later when I spoke to her “It’s more of a hobby”. It’s seems we were done for the night , So the host called upon the audience to bring forth an offering to the stage. A king among men who would shed off their chains and take hold what destiny awaits them. My heart was pounding and my head was filled with lines. They made no sense but I hoped they would before I got to the stage. “Yes” shouted out the inner voices for there was another who was picked out. “No” It screamed when I finally walked on to the stage. “You had the chance to walk away, why didn’t you take it”. It’s simple I replied to my self as looked into the crowd. “I’m going to be comfortable with being uncomfortable and I took a hold of the Open Mic.
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