Bar Scene

Big Hands Bar

Finding home in a city has also become routine
I walk around and find a bar
That attempts to be obscure yet serious.
Subculture excited me.
In New York it was a dive bar
A friend introduced me to them actually
Her immersion in 70s Rock and Punk led us to bars that later became insta-famous by the time I graduated.
I did my homework in these bars sometimes
Read a book
Learnt to play pool
Absorbed a sense of fashion
Became friends with the bartenders
And the regulars
Drank all night and only paid 25$
It felt cool to be inside a scene
To be a part of it
Going home to Bangalore meant losing a home I had built.
So in every new place I find a bar
The mullets usually lead me to it
Or some tell tale signs at the door.
A staircase down into the basement in the middle of the street
A dimly lit interior- but no it’s not to set a romantic mood
Posters, always posters
And when you go indoors, you know, that the past lives on here.

Jukeboxes, cheap beer that never tastes good
Young bands that think theyre the next hot thing
Music that is so loud it enters every pour
It shakes the floor and dances on your skin
It’s history of resistance dancing with us too
Maybe that’s what I love about these bars
That they still have something to say
A cartography of my life in some cities
Would mark my movement between such spots
Scenes if I may
Interspersed with cheap grub
Thrift stores
And coffee shops- another place that hosts me kindly.

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