Reflections of an addict

I have often asked my guitar wielding friends, what is it about this particular instrument that captures the imagination? Why do heads start 'banging' and girls start swooning as the strumming tempo rises? I got numerous answers but they were hardly explanations, rather different ways of saying who cares. All through my college years I have been trying to fathom this mystery without realizing that I had become an addict. And as I was reminiscing about the good old days with my colleagues, it suddenly dawned on me that the guitar had actually become an integral part of my life. I was gorging on heavy doses of rock (ranging from industrial to alternative) and the constant sound of blaring, screaming guitars in my ears had become somewhat of a necessity. There had been early warning signs which were casually overlooked and before the addiction could progress to the next stage, I resolved to put a stop to it. Metamorphosis from a seeker to a brandisher would be my salvation and that is when I decided to buy a guitar.