Twilight to Burn Notice!

There comes a time in everybody's life when you need a little self assessment. Now I for one am very fond of self assessments. They are sort of a hobby. When I have nothing to do, I sit back, relax and..think. Weird? Well that's me. The time that I took away from the blog did not mean that I stopped writing completely. I was writing on and off just not on my blog. Exams were okay etc., life is going on the way it has since the beginning of time. My new interests? I just realized that I hardly had four more months before the university kicked me out. I also realized my new found love for my subject. I realized that my student life was coming to an end, like that of my friends. At least since the time we were studying we could at least have this "idea" that we were still kids and hold on to a piece of our childhood. But that period is about to end. Now I know why grownups continue to remember their childhood no matter what.

I have finished about 70 pages of Twilight after 2 years of struggling. It is a good book to read if you are depressed. ONLY if you are depressed. Just the thought that somebody could be so depressed enough to write such a book and there are a million more depressive souls who made it a best seller makes me feel better about myself! But enough of Twilight bashing now. I like vampires, I don't like werewolves much. I can relate to Bella's character a lot, however I have a problem with the presentation of the book. Reading Twilight is like reading a Class V "Children's Bed Time Story" Book. However it surely is a book of one kind. Problem is that I have never fallen in love with guys like Edward before. Attracted may be. But never love. Speaking of which I am really liking the new Hindi serial which is influenced by Twilight. The hero of that series, "Abhay" is "fu**ing hot" to quote one of my friends. She is a die hard Twilight fan but after watching Abhay, she has stopped admiring Pantyson..or whatever his name is.

I wonder how long I will like this series, partly because I am scared to death of Ekta Kapoor serials but I like the youthful vibrancy of this one. Another series that had me hooked up until recently when it ended is "Lie to Me". One of the most educative serials I have seen till date. entertaining too once you got past the entertainment. Analyzing faces while they talk, now that's something. But the series that replaced Lie to Me, the so called "James Bond of TV" got a cynical glance from me at first sight.

I have never been a fan of James Bond before. I find it to be a young man's fantasy of all the toys (gadgets) he can get along with the "hot babes". But...But..BUT.....

Calling Burn Notice a "James Bond" series is insulting it. This is so much more! An ultimate spy story. And the hero! Well intelligence attracts me. Restraint, well even more. This hero does not go around sleeping with the first woman he can get his hands on, this hero is not a show off (like James Bond) is. He is discreet, subtle and boy is he hot! He is NOT good looking. But yes he is soo much more than that! Both Castle and Lie to Me took a long time to give entertaining episodes. But this series is by far the best I have seen. Where do I begin? The episodes, the mastermind, the intense thrill, the brain complete with Weston's cool voice-overs make this show the best spy story ever to be made. Some cool dialogues:

"Some days you have to wonder if the position you are in is the worst you can be in. Fact is, whether you are a soldier captured by enemy forces, or a Burned Spy in Miami without much of anything, the answer is almost always no: It can always get worse."

"Guns make you stupid. Better to fight your wars with duct tape. Duct tape makes you smart."

"Know what it's like being a spy? Like sitting in your dentist's reception area twenty-four hours a day. Read magazines, have coffee, and every so often, someone tries to kill you."

"Asking my mom for something is like asking for a favor from a Russian mob boss, he'll give you what you want with a smile...but you'll pay for it later"

"Some times the truth hurts. In these situations, I recommend lying."

"Thirty years of karate, combat experience on five continents, a rating with every weapon that shoots a bullet or holds an edge... Still haven't found any defense against Mom crying into my shirt."

"One of the things covert operatives have to give up is the idea of a fair fight. Spies are not trained to fight fair. Spies are trained to win."

"You know spies, a bunch of bitchy little girls."- Sam Axe to Michael Westen

"Well in my experience if something seems too good to be true it's best to shoot it just in case."- Fiona Glenanne

These are some of the most awesome Burn Notice quotes. Sam is Michael's friend and Fiona, an ex IRA bomb expert is Michael's ex who helps him on his cases. Together the three of them solve cases and try to find out why Michael was burned and what to do next. Jeffrey Donovan plays Michael Westen with so much credibility that I find it impossible to accept anyone else in his role. A cup of intelligence and action, a spoonful of Michael, a bit of Fiona's violence (which btw only makes her complement Michael when compared to his restraint) and a little of Sam's comedy- and there you have Ta Da... a steaming Hot Burn Notice Episode!

Touch

His hands held his friend's shoulders. They were sitting together, side by side. They were really good friends but recently they had begun to discover something else in their friendship.They looked at each other's eyes. Both could see a sparkle. His hands began exploring her backside. Slowly his fingers went from her blouse to the naked part of her back. Her skin flinched. She smiled. Evidently she liked his touch. How did his touch feel? Did it pound her heart? Did she blush? Wasn't that touch everything she had ever dreamt about? His hands..on her naked back. Someone else sitting on the back looked on. She was afraid of touch of any kind. But his hands...would they dissolve her fear? But why was he doing it in front of her? He was not touching her, he was touching his friend. Then why did she feel like he was teasing her? As if his hands were speaking to her, coaxing her. She blushed. She felt shy. And then it hit her. Why was he doing it in front of her when he knew she liked him? She loved him. It's fine that he was exercising his independence but why did he need to "show" it to her? Why was he hurting her? Why couldn't he just take his friend to a room? She felt suffocated. Partially by the tease of his hands and partially because of his willingness to touch his friend in front of her. An irresistible urge to kiss him haunted her. They never care do they? Well all that is fine but why did he have to show her this? It was humiliating. She felt her ears burn. And she could not even react! Dammit! She felt suffocated. But only managed to sport a sheepish smile. Like an idiot.

The bell rang. She rushed out of her class. A few steps front and she jumped away from her college. Busily rushing through the streets amidst people, she messaged her friend. Her friend who was there in the class. Who had also seen the whole thing. "What the hell happened back there? You said they were not together?". "I didn't know..", replied the friend. Fighting back tears she got up on bus. Why would he do that? Why why why? He did not love her but he was sensitive, wasn't he? He should have known that she would feel bad. How could he hurt her like this? She would never forget this for the rest of her life. She respected him because of his sensitivity. That was one of the reasons she had loved him. But today, she lost all respect for him.

The Reign of Dark

I am walking through a lonely road. Columns of trees stare like a giant down on me. It is night. The trees are black, dense and their leaves are fluttering, as if conspiring with each other against the wind. I walk alone, a solitary figure among these demons of darkness. Suddenly there is a noise. I look back but see nothing. I keep on walking. But the noise comes again. I stop. I listen intently. Ssshh......The leaves flutter. The leaves whisper. The trees speak. Behind me are hooded figures. They talk softly. They do not notice me. I hear one of them speaking doubtfully, "Tonight another one has to be sacrificed". The voice is heavy, like that of an old man. I suddenly realize that this is one of my elderly neighbors. The others also seem very familiar, I can recognize them, they are all the elderly neighbors of my colony. Suddenly it strikes me. This is not some unknown place in some unknown world. It is one of the streets outside my housing estate. The road is awfully quiet and there are large columns of trees on both sides. It is night and I am in this road. Whaa? How did I get here? My thoughts are interrupted when I suddenly see an old man snatched away by the wind. Only it wasn't a wind. It was a giant branch.. of a tree, that was up in all furor. The old man was not dressed in hood, it seemed as if he had been kidnapped right from his sleep. I could not see his face properly. But I felt a chill of fear down my spine. The hooded figures began to conspire about who to send next. I see the branches of the trees moving. All around me the trees are walking with their roots. They begin to get denser, the foliage grows blacker. The darkness of the night mixes with the darkness of these giants. I feel something tickle me from behind. I look back. It is a branch. I stop dead in my tracks. God, what would happen now? There was no use running, the branch would snatch me away too. The branch begins sensing me with its tip, going up my stomach to my hands. It is soft, almost like a feather. It itches. My skin flinches. And it is exactly at that point that the branch becomes sharp and cuts my hand. Blood begins to trickle. I am desperate. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. But I have to escape. Escape from Death. And it is at this point, with a desperate attempt that I open my eyes...

It is dark outside. Little diamond droplets of rain fall relentlessly. I heave a sigh of relief.

Darkness Revisited

Melancholy passion-eternal longing-that is what Death in Venice reminds me of. It is so dark, so pessimistic, so charming. Melancholy longing leading the protagonist to his death- a journey towards Hell. Giving up? I don't know. All I know is that I love this ennui. I love this dark enchanting space. I love the Unknown beckoning to me. I love the seduction of Darkness. I love the romance, the adventure, the calling of Dark. I guess that is why the pessimism of Baudelaire fascinates me. If you knew how the seduction of Darkness is, you will know what I mean. It is like a drug, it delves deep into your limbs and numbs them with an euphoric, ecstatic feeling. And every time I drown in this feeling, the nerves throb up in a rapture. They are overtaken by the drug. It spreads..slowly...from the extremities to the vitals. The experience....the experience is like bittersweet venom spreading across you, overtaking your body....extending to your soul. Darkness envelops you, you willingly submit to its charm.

Realization

You were such a good friend and now you are gone too

Go on leave me like all the others do...

A post long overdue. Anger. Despair. Fumes. Fight. Break up. Tears. Disbelief. An essential part of life gone. Fear. Of the Future. What will happen now?How can "you" be gone? Forever? Concert. Music. Fun. Tears at Night. Thinking of You. Thinking how unworthy I am of your friendship. How small am I? You were so important to me but apparently I am not that important to you. Rejected. Dejected. I am replaceable. Dispensable. Unwanted.

Second Phase. Making new Friends. Difficult. Not social enough. But have to get out of the first phase. What's the point? Getting your self respect back; that's the point. You are not dispensable. You are not replaceable. You are not rejected. It is possible for people to love you. Want you. Otherwise, there would be no hope at all. No hope of living. Do you want that? Dunno. Scared. Of both sides. But undertaking a venture, taking a risk, solving a problem given at hand; that's my nature. And the Result....

..is not so bad after all. Loving people are present. For whom I am not dispensable. Who don't only talk to me out of kindness. Who don't only listen to me out of a sense of duty for "friendship". Who really like me for the person that I am. And I am surprised at how much I can achieve. A zest. A vigor. A new spirit fueled by the desire to NOT feel bad. NOT be melancholy even though that was the original nature. To NOT be pessimistic. Have to prove something. I can live without you. Look, how happy I am. I was not so happy when I was with you! Inwardly missing you. But the tears are gone. Gradually replaced by the happy memories of the friendship that once existed. This time it was not just a word. This time it was over, for final.

But it was good while it lasted. May be it was for the best. I was getting more and more dependent on you. And it does not work if it's one way. It becomes a burden to the other person, a source of embarrassment to the one. Fear of rejection is always present. It is better to harbor such feelings for someone who would appreciate it. The wound heals up gradually. New friends stir life up. Learn to depend on them. On her. The Lady with the Golden Smile. Would she leave me too? She says she won't. She knows about the past. But no one knows about the future, right? But this is good while it still lasts.

This lady has a lot of friends too. But she never ignores me. She cares for me. She listens to me. Never says she is too busy to talk to me. It's more of a "real relationship" than a "virtual" one. I guess that's why her words make clearer sense. Past feelings, past people however still haunt. Hence deletion of account. A new life. In the "real" world.

Optimism. Strength. Value of Oneself. Hope. Courage. Conviction that I am right...

Realization of own mistakes. Trying to rectify them. But you did not accept. Sad. A Bit Angry. But the feeling of loss is gone. A renewed strength and spirit. Your wish. I tried..

Third Phase. A message. Formal talks. Ice starts to break. Felt nice. But do I want to go back in time again? Wasn't it all over? How can I start it all over again? Difficult. Is so much of intimacy good? After all it's again going to end on a sore note. Confusion. You are nice. Friendly. The qualities I admired in you once. You say you were never serious about the fight. But I was. So...? Where does it go from here?

I don't want to hurt you. But I also don't want to get hurt again. I am over you. Done depending on you. You ask me what is wrong. I refuse. Don't want to rely on you again. Unforgiving? More like timid. You left everything broken. I alone had to build from scratch. Now I am sane. I am happy. Now you have returned. But I am scared of being broken down again. I am scared of getting rejected. Again.

Thankfully, I have a strong mind to think things out. Things are not as simple as they seem. I still like you. I still want to be your friend. But at what cost? Sure it's not worth it to submit oneself completely to someone? And then be rejected? How would you feel if something like that happened to you?

But that's the point. You have lots of friends. You will never have to feel the pathos of loving and not getting loved in return. I on the other hand cannot afford that luxury. The handful of friends that I have, I intend to keep each one of them. None of them is replaceable. Dispensable. No, not even you. You will always be you. No one will take your place. But the way I was once with you...I don't want to be like that with you again just to make you happy. It would be kindness and a duty for friendship, but not from the heart.

Your place in my heart was empty. You have come to reclaim that place. You are away. I feel a vacuum. I feel an empty space. I miss you. But I am scared to admit it. I am scared to feel it. To express it. You expect me to feel for you the same way as I once did. You are physically absent. I get angry. How can you expect me to feel things when you are away on such short notice. I didn't think I would miss you. But now I do.

You are persuasive. Bright and optimistic. But I am not as courageous as you. The fear of rejection from you still persists.

I need to find a balance.

He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

- WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Her Best Friend

Let me tell you a story. The story of a poor princess and her best friend. The twist in the tale lies in the fact that this friend was a frog. So what? We have seen humans and animals bond before haven't we? These two were the best of friends. Here is how the story goes.

'You go on carrying your daily work with no idea of the future to come. You live your life the way you have led it for the past thousand years. And then a frog comes. He lights your way up. You start appreciating the good things in life. This friend becomes your best friend. You start depending on this frog. But then the dependence keeps on increasing and you start taking things a bit too personally. You forget that he is just a little frog and you begin ascribing human attributes to him. You start reacting vulnerably to his light spirited hops and jumps.

And all this keeps on increasing the distance between you two. I dunno whether he simply starts taking her for granted or he fails to understand why she behaves like this. He is a freedom craving frog and you can never keep him in a cage. But what about this fear..this fear of losing him..that may be he will jump away so far that you will not be able to reach out to him..he will grow so distant that your voice won't reach him?

One of my friends used to say, "You can never keep with you what is never yours". She was true. But our princess didn't know that. She began to write poems and pieces for him and never showed or read them to him, thinking only about him, dreaming of him- was it more than just friendship? Yes it was. Dammit, a frog can't read. Hell it probably doesn't even feel like a human being. But our princess was too blind to see that. He was her best friend. He brought her happiness. Best friends share everything. Don't they?

But her definition of friendship did not necessarily match with his idea of the same. The way she carried on her sense of reality did not necessarily match with his. And invariably it happened. Her dream broke. It was a fairy tale, guess it had to be over someday. There was no "happily ever after". Her frog, her charming little prince did not kiss her and make her a princess. All of you know this part of the story. There is nothing new in here. But what hurt her the most? His inability to love her?

No, it was his inability to maintain their friendship. It was his inability to give her the same respect as she did to him. He was not replaceable to her. He was her best friend. But she was replaceable to him. And it was this indifference that hurt her the most. She did not expect him to kiss her. But she did expect him to be her friend, to be by her side, to care for her. He didn't. He failed. She was committed to their friendship. He was not.

But I guess you cannot blame him for it, can you? My friend says, friendship like love cannot be one-sided. It has to be both ways. And if it isn't, well then it isn't friendship. So with a heavy heart, our Cinderella had to forget about her best friend. One day she held him lightly. He did not even take a second look but jumped away. Escaped through the window. Our Cinderella felt that may be she was stifling him all these days. I doubt if the frog had any feelings at all though. But with a heavy heart, our Cinderella threw him a flying kiss. But by then he had gone afar. He never looked back.

Our Cinderella was sad for many days. She contemplated not living as life without her best friend, without her frog,meant nothing to her. But time heals every wound. Our Cinderella recovered, she healed. She found happy kids who made her realize that the sun smiled down on her. But at nights she used to cry for her frog. Till suddenly one day, she realized that her feelings for her dear little frog had gone away.

The realization hit her like hard cold ice. She felt at peace but felt a strange coldness in herself. She tried to search for love, for friendship deep within her heart. But all those feelings had left her with her frog. That part of her heart had been numbed forever. Cinderella realized that she would never be able to love again, she would never be able to feel for anyone ever again. Her frog had taken her warmth along with him. '

And thus ends our not-so-happy fairy tale. I know it does not have a happy ending, but ah well, what did ya expect? It was not out of a Disney movie anyway. ;)

Cute Guys

So what's wrong with the Almighty Creator? Why does he have to make beautiful girls all around but no good looking guys? You know how it goes? Good looking guys are not nice. Good looking nice guys are committed. And good looking nice single guys are gay. :(

It's so hard to find a good looking guy who would also be a good conversationalist. Most of us have to prioritize on one or more of the features if we want to "like" a guy. So imagine my surprise when after waiting for about 4 and a half years on the university campus I genuinely found not one but several cute lovely looking guys!! Imagine my surprise, my hysteria! It was as if I had found a diamond in the rough. At least I was so smitten by them when I found them on one of the social networking sites. I am jumping, jumping, jumping now! Yuppieee!

Rukte hain kahan hum roke se

Chalte hain hawa ke jhonke se

Apni toh aisi hai zindagi

Yehi apni adaa hai kya karein

Koi bura jo maane kya karein

Humse toh hai khafa ab sabhi

Jaane do chodo bhi

Talking of cute guys, I dreamed of an old flame today evening. Well okay fine, I have a thing for cute guys. And he was cute. And cool. Absolutely thanda thanda cool cool. Which is what I liked about him. But I dreamed of him in relation to death. I guess the reason for it was that I was reading a novel where the main character had just died. And the father of one of my students had just expired. So when I woke up, I was left with a nagging feeling of why I dreamed of him in relation to death. So anyways, it's always nice to find a cute guy in real life (considering all of them are mostly found in movies or serials: from leos to shahids to aijaz khans to amit varmas). So yes, right now I am ecstatic..regarding these guys. It never hurts to see a cute face staring at you ..blah blah blah..you get my drift. Particularly cute guys make me feel happy when I'm in a sour mood. So that's what I do when I'm in a bad mood or need some entertainment.

When it comes to movies or serials, I can list a series of names when it comes to cute guys. But I won't bore you with that list. Cute guys- are mostly young guys, even if they are old...they should have a younger charm about them. Leo is probably the best example in this respect. And to talk of Indians, who can forget Shahid and Ranbir? Truly they are the present heart throbs of Generation Y. And when it comes to Hollywood, need I even mention a list? It is always full of hotties and cuties and both!! Take for example, Steven Strait. The charmer charmed everyone with his magical powers in The Covenant.

When Leo acted in the Titanic for the first time, people around were really surprised. They had seen this guy act before but Titanic was definitely one of the turning points in Leo's life. One that made girls sit up and notice him and he was to become the blue-eyed boy of Hollywood for a long time to come. However Leo never limited himself to romantic roles. Rather he kept on taking up different challenging roles that explored his acting abilities right from The Gangs of New York to Catch Me if you Can.

Well, happy cute guys inspire cute happy posts. Pray that the Almighty creates more of these startling precious pieces! :P

Parting

Have been reading some fun blog posts for quite a while....they have become my favorites within a very short span of time...while one deals with relationships, the other one clearly is about weird and funny ideas. Change is good. Change is constant. I recently saw Inception. I was about to write a blog post on that but then decided against it. Part of the reason is that I had a lot of questions regarding the movie and needed to do research on them. Part of the reason is that seeing a movie like Inception once is not enough to write a post on it. I am seeing a new side of life now..spending more time in the real world than virtual world. I daresay, it has done me more good than bad. As a matter of fact, I am quite enjoying it. This is the last year of university. My last semester results were not good, at least by my standards. Since this is the last year, I want to give it my best effort. It's still difficult to accept that within another year, this university will not remain mine any more! So now even while running late to my classes every morning, I spare a sec to feel and watch the air, the grass, the lake, the seats, the ledge, the corridors, the buildings and the canteens of my uni.... 18 years of studying and it's all going to be over soon..I can feel what my engineering mates felt in the beginning of this year, now. Fresh views, fresh guys..yupsy they ARE cute! Ah finally! As a matter of fact one of them is in one of my class. The other in my department! Yippeee! I love my courses. Well I always did. But this time, I am actually studying, or at least trying to, till now. I am trying not to miss my classes. Making an effort. Today for instance, we spent one class listening to Latin American music. No notes, just the splendor and vibrancy of Latin American music for the course. Reminds me time and again why I love CL so much! I wish these years would not go so soon by. Still remember the first day of college. We were newcomers then and now, in a matter of time, we have become the senior most class in the dept. We have grown old. :(

I never thought I wud miss my school. But six months before I left school, I began feeling nostalgic about it. I never ever thought I would miss JU. But...

This place has a growing quality; it grows on you. I was a critic of the place when I first came here. The liberation, the freedom was too much for me to take; one who has always been a staunch supporter of rules and regulations. But this university, my department showed me new directions; opened my arena. What if I am given a choice whether or not to follow rules? Surely I'm a grown up individual and can take my own decisions? What if I am not a bad person just because I smoke or drink? I don't support either of these activities even now but the way I used to view smokers as "bad" people; that view has changed. JU has opened up possibilities; possibilities I never knew existed before. Well you know what they say. Once a JUite, always a JUite!

A lot of time has passed since my last personal post. Was reading the blog on relationships and felt it was time to write one post for myself, about me. Sure clouds still darken my sky however now I'm optimistic, I'm happy.

Pessimism with a Difference

We were being taught Baudelaire in class and came across this beautiful dark haunting imagery, one of his poems. Take a look.

Spleen

When the cold heavy sky weighs like a lid

On spirits whom eternal boredom grips,

And the wide ring of the horizon's hid

In daytime darker than the night's eclipse:

When the world seems a dungeon, damp and small,

Where hope flies like a bat, in circles reeling,

Beating his timid wings against the wall

And dashing out his brains against the ceiling:

When trawling rains have made their steel-grey fibres

Look like the grilles of some tremendous jail,

And a whole nation of disgusting spiders

Over our brains their dusty cobwebs trail:

Suddenly bells are fiercely clanged about

And hurl a fearsome howl into the sky

Like spirits from their country hunted out

Who've nothing else to do but shriek and cry —

Then long processions without fifes or drums

Wind slowly through my soul. Hope, weeping, bows

To conquest. And atrocious Anguish comes

To plant his black flag on my drooping brows.

Pessimism with a beautiful poetic imagery- that's Baudelaire for you! ;)

Immortal

Probably most of you have heard this song but the lyrics are too good and I have to put them up here...aptly describe my feelings.

I'm so tired of being here, suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave
Your presence still lingers here and it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me

You used to captivate me by your resonating light
Now, I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me, I've been alone all along

When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me, me, me

-My Immortal, Evanescence.

And for all those who haven't yet listened to this song, just two words: PLEASE DO!

Addiction

At times I wonder what is so fascinating about this virtual world- what is so enchanting about this that we leave aside all work of the real world and get entangled in the unsurmountable maze of this world's liveliness. It's a fun world where you can live your deepest fantasies, enjoy the victory which you probably hardly see in the "real" world of three dimensions. This addiction is deep, it acts as a kind of seduction. However there is one thing we forget in the midst of all this; that it is all fake, empty. Whatever happens here exists in a virtual world which is composed of our dreams, our hopes, our unfulfilled fantasies. Things we fear are lost here, the virtual world provides us with a blanket that can easily cover up all insecurities, all frustrations. But what happens when you begin to get lost in this world? What happens when you begin to take all of this for "real"? I guess you lose the connection between reality and the virtual. You begin living in a world made of dreams, made of cupcake and jelly beans; you begin living in an imaginary world. You make friends; you fall in love. And then one fine morning, the world breaks down. You can't see the pieces coz the world was all virtual, right? But it also breaks down your heart and you are left to count the pieces.

"I thought you felt it too

When there was me and you.."

Marriage- Before and After

It's time for a fun post and here is this poem I came up with somewhere. There was a competition in the Washington Post that asked for the most romantic first line followed by the least romantic second line. This poem got the first prize. Check this out. ;)

My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife,
Marrying you screwed up my life.

I see your face when I am dreaming.
That's why I always wake up screaming.

Kind, intelligent, loving and hot;
This describes everything you are not.

I thought that I could love no other --
that is until I met your brother.

Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you.
But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead, the sugar bowl's empty and so is your head.

I want to feel your sweet embrace;
But don't take that paper bag off your face.

I love your smile, your face, and your eyes --
Damn, I'm good at telling lies!

My love, you take my breath away.
What have you stepped in to smell this way?

My feelings for you no words can tell,
Except for maybe “'Go to hell.”'

What inspired this amorous rhyme?
Two parts tequila, one part lime !!

Loneliness

There were people around her always. Boisterous, forceful, determined to achieve their goals, determined to make her achieve her goals. Nobody ever asked what she wanted. She never asked herself what she wanted. What others wanted for her was more important to her. They had suffered for her, now it was her turn to suffer for them. It was a constant ideology she believed in. Her only aim in life was to make them happy. But then he came. He was a friend. A dear friend. He was the kind of person who made her happy. All those other people around her made her stressed. But he made her warm and comfortable. She loved him for who he was. She wanted to know him. She never wanted to lose him. Never. People she had loved had always left her. She thought it was because she was not good enough for them. This had scared her; she never could be herself with people she liked for fear that they would "reject" her. But his easygoing nature encouraged her. She was not scared to be who she was with him. She loved him. She wanted him to be happy. But somewhere at the back of her mind she knew that he could never be happy with her. But she never wanted to lose him. There was always an uneasiness that this won't last coz it never had before. This friendship, this being there for each other. And it didn't. She blamed herself for the loss. For his indifference. He did not care. She was not good enough. She knew that. She was not good enough to be his friend. But she loved him. Did he know that? Did he understand that no matter how much people loved him, they will never be able to love him as much as she did? There was a time when she used to wait all the while so that they could talk. Now they don't. She is still surrounded by people. People waiting to be her friends. May be people who even genuinely care about her. People who need her. But he is not there. And it is not the same without him. What happened to the easiness which was there when they talked earlier? The places where they met, those places remind her of him even now. There is not one day when she does not think of him. Sometimes she wanders, why did they have to meet only so they could part? And in the midst of all people, she feels lonely. and this loneliness is like frost bites. Cold, cruel and uncompromising.

"I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me and I walk alone...."

Less of Words

So it's been a while since I sat down with my pen and paper, oops I meant keyboard and blog. I have been writing quite frequently just not in my blogs. Exams have been over for quite a while and this has provided me the opportunity of doing some thinking. Well "thinking" is my fav. past time. I am reminded of a Russell Peters video now where the comedian said that all women do is think think think all the time. While men can look at a wall and "absolutely think of Nothing!!" That was one hell of a video! All this while it has been a pleasant time with new experiences, meeting new people and learning new things about old ones. A bit tensed regarding the future. And I so want to get out of here. It's already stuffed up and suffocating. For now I have nothing else to write, would get back to you guys later. Ciao.

Voices

She was never alone. Voices surrounded her. Some of these voices had bodies. Some did not. But they whispered to her all the time. When they told her that nobody cared for her, she did not want to believe them. But she trusted those voices more than she trusted others. So she left the others. There were two voices out of the many who were closer to her themost. These were the two voices that had bodies. Time passed. They left her. She was broken. How could these two voices leave her? She shared everything with them. That they would leave her is something she had never thought. She had already left the others when the voices told her that they did not care for her. Now she was left alone. Then she saw a Light. The Light told her to keep her life separate, to not do as the voices ask her to. It was difficult for her. But she did it. She stopped sharing her personal life with the voices. It helped her grow stronger. But she missed them. They drifted apart from her. She met others. The became closer. But there was a remnant of the voices. What if the voices were right? What if the others never really cared for her? What if she was left all alone forever? That insecurity grasped her gradually. Slowly she lost the others and all she was left with was herself and the voices inside her head.

15 Park Avenue- The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Last night I watched 15 Park Avenue till 4:00 am. The first time they had shown the movie, I remember I had felt that it was bleak, barren, very serious even to the point of being repulsive, especially the rape scene of Meethi. But last night I watched it again. Strangely the movie turned out to be much more than simply the trauma of a schizophrenic and her family. It talked of the importance of friendship, relationships, family and life. "Aren't we all delusional in some way or the other"? This dialog set me thinking.

Aren't we all hankering after something? That something, which may not be real, which might simply be a figment of our imagination, which we may never be able to achieve...So where does our difference with Meethi lie? It probably lies in the fact of her not being able to distinguish fantasies from the real world. This makes her dysfunctional while we are able to distinguish between our fantasies and "reality", hence do not become dysfunctional. Even then does that make us a lot different from her?

15 Park Avenue, Calcutta-19. Calcutta has a Palm Avenue but not a Park Avenue. Park Avenue is present in New York. Where do you search for a Park Avenue in Calcutta then? The number 15 is also significant. 15 December was the day when Meethi got engaged to Jojo. Her sister spent her whole life caring for her. But this also did its own share of harm. Aparna Sen has brought in a complex set of relationships where the negative effects of caring for our loved ones are also brought to light.

Meethi gets gang raped while on an assignment in a remote village. Her sister, Anjali scares off Jojo when Meethi and he are about to get married, saying Meethi has been traumatized and needs her medicines and expressing her doubts on the fact that Joydeep won't be able to take proper care of her. Jojo gets scared and runs away. Who do you blame? Jojo or Anjali?

It is quite likely that Anjali, 18 years older to Mitali has a protective nature for her younger sister and does not find any man good enough for Mitali. The aggressive nature could also have been brought about by the sense of insecurity due to the feeling that she will not remain the only guidance in her sister's life any more.

Jojo is an ordinary guy. He gets scared off by the disbelief Anjali rests on him. Her conviction that he will not be able to take care of Meethi scares him to believe that he won't be able to. As he himself states, when he heard that Meethi got raped one part of him wanted to hug her tight, the other part never wanted to tough her again. What do we do when a person feels this way? We can curse him, we can accuse him, but what he feels is real. And there is no other way out. So in such a scenario it is a very pertinent question, should he have married Meethi even though he did not love her any more?

A lot of people might have different views on the above but one thing that truly holds 15 Park Avenue together is Aparna Sen's incredible ability to show many things at the same time. There is the complex mechanism of relationships and individual sentimentalities, there is the story of a schizophrenic person and her family, there is also a statement on life. What do we want? We all hanker for something. In the end do we get it? Even if it is not supported by the world and "reality" of others. I am reminded of the example of the table lamp Dr. Barua gives in the film.

While Anjali thinks a decorative piece is a vase and not a lamp, he asks what her reaction would have been had all the people in the room said that it was a lamp and not a vase. Would she have agreed? Or contested them like Meethi? Reality is like that. We all have our own versions of it. It is not possible to have an objective version of reality because each individual is distinct. This was one of the first things we dealt with in Comparative Literature and even now we have to deal with this repeatedly.

There is another of those exciting "comparative" moments when Meethi sees a lunatic on the side of the road. Both of them look at each other. The mad woman sitting on the street smiles at her, but Meethi looks away, visibly flabbergasted and bewildered. We used to be told by our guest lecturer, a mental health professional during our Conflict Management classes, that, clients come with all sorts of apprehensions.

One of the most common things they say is, "daktarbabu ami kintu pagol noi, amar kichu hoyni", ("Doctor, I am not a lunatic, nothing has happened to me"). She told us that the very idea of a "pagol" (lunatic) needs redefinition. Who is a lunatic? The mad woman who sits in rags at the side of the street or the perfect gentleman who tries to commit suicide in full senses? 15 Park Avenue brought back memories of how the idea of a "mad man" has changed for us after her class one evening.

One point which I would like to point out in this respect is the absolute realistic portrayal of scenes in Aparna Sen's movies. The portrayal of the rape scene particularly was so striking that I hated the movie when I saw it for the first time. Sexual abuse, rape has become so common in our society nowadays that people don't even think twice before committing such vicious crimes. Thanks to the Hindi Film Industry, rape has become a glamorous act to show the woman's dependency and the hero's strength.

Child sexual abuse thankfully has still not been glamorized so much yet. But thanks to the mainstream media, we all know what it is. One is reminded of Maninder Singh Pandher and the bones of the dead children found in his backyard in the Nithari case. How he was absolved of all guilt and his servant left to take the blame! How convenient! And to top it all, child sexual abuse is a common everyday phenomenon. Those who do it might themselves not realize that it is an abuse. One of my students, who is a bit mentally challenged went to play in the park. A group of older guys showed him their sexual organs. He is in class IV. He is still recovering from shock.

The purpose of this post was to examine the issues dealt with in 15 Park Avenue. But its purpose was also to talk a bit about the evils of child sexual abuse. I am still repulsed by the incident. I hope he gets well soon.

Sound of Rain

Dark clouds storm the sky. Night falls upon the world. Darkness descends. It is about to rain. People come out of their houses, to greet the raindrops. At last they will find relief from the exasperating heat. Water will cool their burning hearts. It will quench their thirst. They wait eagerly. The rain clouds come together. Time passes. Then with a moment's sprint, water falls from the sky. It begins to cry. Loudly. It howls. People get scared. But the sky doesn't stop howling. Its cries come in the form of loud thunders. It blinks. Lightning strikes. People move away. The tears continue to flow. They become surprised. Their beloved sky never behaved like this before. They wait. For it to cool down. But the waters increase. The rains start falling more harshly, more intently. The people cry out for help. But the rain flows away everything. Soil, rocks, sediments are carried away. The trees are uprooted by the violent gush of water. The foundation of giant buildings tremble with incredible sound. But the rains keep on falling more violently. Its as if the sky is punishing the earthlings for some crime they did not commit. The force of the water cracks the cemented foundation of the buildings. There is a large commotion. Chaos all around. Helpless victims shriek. Innocent children cry beside their parents' dead bodies. People drown. Corpses of animals are seen floating on the flood waters. There is death and destruction everywhere. The survivors try to run. But water catches in on them, fast. With great rage, it upturns them. They fall. Water carries them away. They try to break free from its clutches. But the water slips through their hands. The rains keep falling more vigorously. Soon all is quiet. Gradually all sound of life stops and all that is left is the melodious, peaceful pitter-patter of the rains.

A crumpled piece of page floats amidst the dead bodies. Inscribed on it are the words:

"Water water everywhere

Nor a drop to drink"

P.S: I thank Payel Roy for suggesting many interesting synonyms for rain sounds, out of which I have used one in this piece.

Worse than Death- (II)

There are some things worse than death. She knew. She sat thinking. A hatred consumed her heart. An anger. Her love was not enough for him. But did he know that she could do anything for him? Anything? She laughed. Like a maniac! She never wanted anything from him. But she could give all she had to him. She could annihilate herself in the fire of his love. He had already taken away her power to love. She hated him for that. She could not love anyone any more now. All because of him. That deep tender feeling in her heart had turned into a brown bleeding wound. It had bled so much that she couldn't feel anything any more. It was numb. She was scared to feel the pain.

Yes, she decided. She would do that. She would annihilate herself for his love. And the best part? He wouldn't even know. He would never know! Her anger for him turned to herself, her body. She remembered about those "things". One such thing had brushed over by her when she was a child. She was terrified. But, now she decided she would feed herself to those things. Let them do things to her. Bad things. She shuddered. But she wanted to punish. She didn't know who. But she wanted to feel the terror, she wanted to feel the agony. May be that would erase the pain of this loss. Or not.

She would destroy herself. She decided. The very realization of what she was about to do made her shiver. She laughed maniacally. Yes she would do it!! No one would be able to stop her! He did not realize how much she loved him. Now she will show him what she can exactly do for him! It should be fun.

She wandered down the dark gates of Hell. Beyond those gates were the "things" waiting. There were 12 of them. They stared at her- a petite figure coming their way. They formed a semicircle. She went inside and the circle closed in on her. Their fingers were only skin and bones with long nails. They had a hood over their head. They wore long black robes. None of their faces was visible. Except their hands. Thin long hands with long fingers. That slowly laid upon her now.

The first touch. Icy. Cold. Explored her body. She shuddered. She remembered the first brush of such a "thing" when she was a child. How it had scared her then! And now there were twelve of them. Hovering around her. Touching. Exploring her. Her parts. The first fingers ran over her slowly, carefully , as if surveying the softness of a new born puppy. Soon, they increased. They went deeper and deeper into the flesh. She felt polluted. Disgusted. Would her prince come and save her now? A little flicker of hope rose up in her. May be he had realized. May be he would come. Any moment he would be here now. Please, please let him be here, she prayed!

The hands kept on exploring into still deeper crevices. She pulled her soul closer to herself. She couldn't let these pollutants corrupt her soul. But how far would she pull herself away? They turned and twisted her flesh. They gnawed, bit and sucked at her. Blood came out. They drank it. She was still alive. The pain was twitching. There was a buzzing sound in her ears. She closed her eyes. The Master asked the others to stop.

He bent down over her and slit her parts open with his hand. Blood oozed out. He drank it. She lay there, feeling enormous pain but not uttering a single sound. Then he emptied his load into her. The final nail in the coffin had been stuck. The "things" left. She just lay there, lifeless with torn shreds of garment still adorning her bloody reaped apart body. Her soul had been robbed of but she was still breathing.

He didn't come.

Worse Than Death-(I)

There are some things worse than death. She knew. The horror. The pain. The trauma. She used to be scared. Of those things in the dark. That were worse than death. She had no one to protect her. She used to protect herself from those dark creatures that moved about in the garb of light. Until...he came.

He was a soldier of light. Different from her. She preferred darkness. Light scared her. Light with its laughter. That mocked her. He drove away her fear. Laughter need not always mock, he said. Laughter can also be happiness. She did not know what to do. He was her sole connection with Light. Should she trust him or not? But something in her heart told her to believe him. Led her towards the soldier of light. She had never listened to her heart before. Then why now? Why believe this stranger all of a sudden? She had no answer. But blinded by the sudden gush of light that the soldier brought in, she followed him.

He led her through beautiful mountains, rolling streams and green valleys. They flew over white clouds. Blue Sun, Yellow Sky. The geese flew by their side. Everything was bathed in light. She was timid. But beside his warmth, she felt strong. She wanted to hold on to him forever. But suddenly there was a Fall. She fell. Down and down she went. Tumbling down from the Elysium, she fell to the Nethers. Suddenly there was no light! The sudden change from light to darkness blinded her eyesight. She thought it was a dream. A bad dream. She rubbed her eyes. She sat up. Dark bleak caves surrounded her. She imagined her prince coming down. She was confident. He would come down to save her! She just knew it!

Ugly creatures surrounded her. They mocked her. You left us for him! Now he's left you! Never!! She screamed. He was not like them, she protested with all her might. He would come and take her away any moment now. She waited. And waited. Nobody came. Her faith was not shaken. She knew he would come. For days she lay like that in that darkness. Finally one day she decided to meet him. Ignoring the ugly mocking of those ugly creatures, she turned to Light. Once again. She went in search of her prince. The soldier of Light.

The world of Light seemed cold now. Without him by her side, she felt unwelcome. She much preferred the anonymity of the dark. She also saw those things. Those dark things that moved about in the garb of light. But light all around her protected her from them. She searched for her Prince everywhere. There he was, sitting by the Elysian Fields. She ran up to him. Hugged him. Kissed him with her tears. Where was he? Did he not know she was alone? Did he not know how much she had missed him? He was nonchalant. Indifferent. Cold.

His coldness struck her heart. That warm tender feeling in her heart was being threatened by his icy stare. He seemed opaque. Distant. She could not touch him. She shouted out to him. He didn't respond. Her hand..it could not touch him any more. He looked at her. Indifferent. Rude. Who was she? What was she doing here?

She refused to believe what she saw. May be he did not remember. So what. She was his..friend, she tried to remind him. He didn't remember. She explained all the beautiful journeys they had been on together, through clouds, over mountains, rivers and green valleys. The blue sun and yellow sky! He laughed. How can the sun be blue? It was impossible. She told him she loved him. He said it had all been a dream. None of it was true.

She went silent. Inside she was still trying to convince herself that all of it was real. This....this moment was a dream...a nightmare. He could not be like this with her. She told him she had loved him all this while. Why did he not understand? Hadn't he felt the radiant warmth between them? He hadn't. But...but he brought her out from darkness. He made her feel the warmth of light. How can he not feel it? He did not answer.

She was lost. Confused. But..but it had been so real. How could it be a dream? What she felt for him was real. Couldn't he see that? That warm tender feeling inside her heart..that surely could not have been a dream? Or was it? She was terrified. What would happen now? She..could not go back to the Nethers. She had no one to stay for in the Elysium. She had nowhere to go. He had left her. Abandoned her.

For some time she remained drowned in her misery. She had nothing to give him. Except love. But that was not enough. Why was that not enough? Why? Why? Why? He had melted her heart. Taken away all her love. Now she was squeezed dry. She couldn't love anybody. Not any more!

(to be continued)

Badmaash Company- A "Normal" Post..At Last!

Time for another post. I know I am writing an awful lot of posts nowadays and that too with little gap in between, but these thoughts keep clouding my head and unless I put them on paper, I find it difficult to function "normally". Well I find it difficult to function normally even if I put thoughts on paper but then that's just me being normal! Anyways I think I should stop the discourse on normality and continue with the "normal" post. This post yes, it is normal. But it is not about Shahid! Yay! Finally I am writing a post on Shahid's film but it is not about him. I am finally bringing my critical mind into his films! Great achievement, wouldn't you say? :D

So Badmaash Company looks like a mixture of Yes Boss and Bunty Aur Babli. The educated unemployed Indian youth on the way for a shortcut to his dreams. In the process, he finds out that the shortest way may not always be the "right" way. I have an ethical problem with such films. I liked Yes Boss a lot; in fact it is one of my favorite movies till date. I did not like Bunty Aur Babli (I am guessing Abhishek Bachchan had something to do with it). Badmaash Company...Well it's too soon to tell. And please don't think that just because I am marrying Shahid so I will support every film he does. As they say, your most ardent well wishers are your worst critics. ;)

So yeah (boy, you guys really make me talk a lot!), my ethical problem lies in the fact that these films portray a lot of riches. It's like "The Great American Dream"; you can have as much as you want. Personally I think there should be a balance to everything. But these films try to show that nothing is enough; there is always that hankering for more, more and even more. More of money, more of sex, more of violence. I dunno I never kinda liked it. In some spiritual discourses like Tantric Buddhism, they rely on this "hankering for more" until you get fed up of mundane wishes and finally decide to give up material life altogether. I kinda always got fed up when I received what I wanted. As they say, the chase of the game is much more than the joy of possessing it. I agree there is a certain happiness, a satisfaction is getting something you have always dreamed of, but how long before eternal boredom strikes again?

Sometimes I wonder, is it the same in case of relationships? Do we begin to take each other for granted after a while?

P.S: Told you it was going to be a "normal" post! Howzzat! :P