A boy and a girl.
Pristine and precious. That's all there is to the relationship. Right?
In the midst of all the teasing and the giggles, buried somewhere between a snicker and a lazily pointed finger, peeping from a curtain of rumours and insinuations, a little doubt is born. Not a doubt that the relationship is anything other than what it is but just small questions, random thoughts that seem to appear and ask if what we are going to say, what we are going to do can in some way be (mis)construed as out of the ordinary, maybe leaving room for more talk, more assumptions and more conclusions - a touch of artificiality makes its appearance in the relationship and soon begins to mark boundaries within which we are expected to interact. Society now dictates what is appropriate and what is not in the relationship and somewhere along the line, the untainted magic of the bonding fades away.
OK, I really need a long weekend to write some sensible stuff already!
June 30, 2005
Arinthum Ariyamalum - Aanandam!
And once in a while, along comes a Tamil movie like a whiff of fresh air...The plot twists and turns unexpectedly, the comedy scenes, for a change, not loud and crass, the music delightful and for once, the bad guys are left alone and not killed or arrested in unbelievable circumstances, just to fit into the good-guy-always-wins formula!
The so called bad guys, Prakash Raj and Arya, walk away with all the attention, they change expressions, gestures and even their intonation and dialogue delivery styles based on the mood. Arya especially is realistic as the bad man's hot tempered son, lost when suddenly introduced to his chocolate-faced younger brother, Navneet.
The background music is pleasing and catchy, especially the scenes with Navneet and Samiksha and the funny encounters of Prakash Raj and Arya with Navneet. Yuvan Shankar Raja kalakirkaan! The scene where the father-son duo watch Navneet sleep cracked me up! Krishna (of five-star-fame) as Navneet's friend terrified of the don-duo is funny! A fresh, lively and enjoyable movie by Vishnuvardhan.
So, as the sun TV guy in lion dates top ten says, "Arinthum Ariyamalam - Aanandam!" :)
June 29, 2005
Unrelated recollections - blame it on the telephone conference!
Me is falling asleep even in this uncomfortable supposedly-ergonomic chair. 20 faces staring into 20 thinkpads - a 2 hour telephone conference, I know am not going to make much sense in this post but the air is conditioned just right and the drone from the telephone is beginning to sound more and more like gentle murmers to me...it definitely would be embarassing if I fall asleep here, so here goes a post about random thoughts of a sleepy mind.
Bits-pilani bhawan's night (the guys get to invite us for dinner and party to their bhawan, too sleepy to explain further) - I was in a whiny mood and was talking for God-knows-how-long about how I did not know to dance (to my credit, I did learn Bharathanatyam for four years when I was little), sing, play an instrument and so on, when my unfortunate host said, "Hey! You know something? It's great to be ordinary!" Now, I am not really quoting him because he said something that caused an epiphany yada yada, I say it because I just remember him saying that, no reason. So, this little paragraph here is dedicated to all those ordinary people out there and out here :)
***
My mom is learning Hindi, which I think is pretty cool. About time I learnt a new language! My office colleagues tell me that a child that is taught many languages as it grows up develops better mental faculties, understanding - the works!
*** I hate shrugs.
"Hey, would you like to go out for a cuppa coffee? Huh? Huh? Huh?!", all jumpy and excited.
"Sure, I guess", accompanied by a shrug.
"Well, you have fun at the coffee shop, am afraid I just cannot come!"
***
All girls (atleast most girls, well, atleast a few girls and me) like their boy friends, husbands to have led a life that consists of : cutting classes, unruly hair, cycle chains twirled in contempt and even as a dare, even a few cigarettes, torn jeans and dirty tshirts, non-conformity, disobedience, basically an I-don't-care-a-damn cool jerk of sorts (somewhat like Karthik in Mouna Ragam). And just make up a list of the opposites for what a girl expects after the I dos :)
***
Don't you hate an alltime-solution-giver (really, I swear I would have come up with a better name on another day!)?
"You know what happened at work today? a~ said bla bla and then c~ agreed with her..."
and so on and so forth, you get the drift? And enter, the ASG (more like ASS),
"You know what you should have done? You should have said..."
"Go, fly a kite!"
***
Ah, the sweet ring tone of the telephone (and that reminds me - do you get annoyed at the way the telephone receiver's wire connecting it to the instrument gets all twirled up? And then someone calls and you pick up the receiver and the whole instrument kind of falls apart and you pant a "Hello..." with a loud clang and the other person asks, "Hey, Were you waiting for my call?!".
Anyay, the conference ended and so does my silly excuse for a post!
Bits-pilani bhawan's night (the guys get to invite us for dinner and party to their bhawan, too sleepy to explain further) - I was in a whiny mood and was talking for God-knows-how-long about how I did not know to dance (to my credit, I did learn Bharathanatyam for four years when I was little), sing, play an instrument and so on, when my unfortunate host said, "Hey! You know something? It's great to be ordinary!" Now, I am not really quoting him because he said something that caused an epiphany yada yada, I say it because I just remember him saying that, no reason. So, this little paragraph here is dedicated to all those ordinary people out there and out here :)
My mom is learning Hindi, which I think is pretty cool. About time I learnt a new language! My office colleagues tell me that a child that is taught many languages as it grows up develops better mental faculties, understanding - the works!
"Hey, would you like to go out for a cuppa coffee? Huh? Huh? Huh?!", all jumpy and excited.
"Sure, I guess", accompanied by a shrug.
"Well, you have fun at the coffee shop, am afraid I just cannot come!"
All girls (atleast most girls, well, atleast a few girls and me) like their boy friends, husbands to have led a life that consists of : cutting classes, unruly hair, cycle chains twirled in contempt and even as a dare, even a few cigarettes, torn jeans and dirty tshirts, non-conformity, disobedience, basically an I-don't-care-a-damn cool jerk of sorts (somewhat like Karthik in Mouna Ragam). And just make up a list of the opposites for what a girl expects after the I dos :)
Don't you hate an alltime-solution-giver (really, I swear I would have come up with a better name on another day!)?
"You know what happened at work today? a~ said bla bla and then c~ agreed with her..."
and so on and so forth, you get the drift? And enter, the ASG (more like ASS),
"You know what you should have done? You should have said..."
"Go, fly a kite!"
Ah, the sweet ring tone of the telephone (and that reminds me - do you get annoyed at the way the telephone receiver's wire connecting it to the instrument gets all twirled up? And then someone calls and you pick up the receiver and the whole instrument kind of falls apart and you pant a "Hello..." with a loud clang and the other person asks, "Hey, Were you waiting for my call?!".
Anyay, the conference ended and so does my silly excuse for a post!
June 28, 2005
In all my selfish glory...
 | "ரம்யா, செரியா பாரு, அந்த leftல இருக்கர photoல அந்த அப்பா மூஞ்சி cleara இருக்கா?" (Ramya, look carefully, is the dad's face clear in the photo on the left?) "இருக்கு மா, இத எத்தனை தரவ கேப்ப?" (Yes ma, how many times will you ask?) |
"இல்ல, அந்த card கடை கொஞ்சம் தள்ளி இருக்கு, வெய்யில்ல திருப்பி போக வேண்டாமேன்னு பார்த்தேன்..." (The card shop is a bit far, I did not want to go out in the sweltering heat one more time...)
After I hung up, I did not immediately pick up a book or start switching channels on TV. I did not want the distractions of convenience interfere or in anyway diminish the cloud of guilt that surrounded me.
I did not particularly fancy the border used for the wedding invitation card, I got annoyed when asked a third time if I liked the card, I insisted that my name not be written in capital letters on the card - all the little imperfections, Oh yes, I caught them immediately!
And still, I missed the one thing that was staring at me all along - my selfishness!
June 25, 2005
A whole lot of nothing.
You know what makes living in India special?
Not living in India.
That's the easy answer. Am still thinking of the right answer...
About five years back, when I was still a FOB (Fresh-off-the-board as my cousin called me, quite unflatteringly), I used to wonder what the big deal was about Fridays. TGIF? I mean come on! There are many other things to thank God for than Fridays :) Now, every Thursday, I wake up with a little more hope, I walk with a little spring in my step, I smile a lot more because I know Friday is just a day away! The monotony of the week somehow gets to me, every week! And then I come home bubbling with good will and enthusiasm because it's the much hyped about Friday night and sometimes it just turns out to be a damp squib. A friend who recently started working, shook his head in despair and claimed, "Ramya, inga weekend naale kadi...thaan" (Weekends are a bore here).
And that got me thinking. I don't recall feeling listless and bored on weekends back home...when I was at Bits, weekends meant visits to Annapurna restaurant, Pappu's milk shakes, conversations with boys about their girls, with girl friends about boys, about life and philosophy, about books and romance, assignments and movies...I don't recall asking myself, "OK, what shall I do today?" I just did not have the time for that question. In Madras, it was a similar story, waking up late, bed coffee, long phone calls, Ranganathan street visits in the sweltering heat, Nilgiris icecream and chitchat, fighting and laughing with mom and dad and L, listening to stories from Thatha...time, as they say, just flew.
Don't get me wrong, am not complaining - I have travelled a lot more in the US, gone on wild amusement park rides - if that counts!, experimented with skiing, ice-skating, painting, interior design, tubing, canoeing, rafting, dancing and driving! But sometimes none of these can stop the small voice within me that makes demands that I cannot fulfil...
 |  |  |
OK, that's a whole lot of rambling about a whole lot of nothings -
Of sun-kissed earth and capricious rains, samosas and chai shared with mirth and chatter; Of the aroma of hot filter-coffee and pungent spices; Of sacred kumkum and colorful sarees; Of strangers who don't smile and a land of no strangers; Of the bliss of familiarity and the melody of ringing temple bells; Of curious enquiries and unsubtle questions; Of the comfort of family and the hum of old ceiling fans; Of home and love.
Note: I clicked none of these pics, thanks to whoever did!
June 23, 2005
The NBA playoffs!
Hah! If you think I am going to write about basketball here, guess again! This post like similar ones in the past - here and here (I should stop repeating myself and start thinking some blog-worthy thoughts! Also, please don't feel compelled to read all those posts, unless you want to because it's Friday and anything is more interesting than staring at code on the computer screen :) Also, answers to the treasure hunt clues here! I like the highlighting-funda! I should stop interrupting the topic with non sequiturs like this, so, I will end my parenthesis here - do you know the British call parentheses, brackets? ), inspired by the NBA playoffs and a certain strange variety of human beings (otherwise called men) that women should never attempt to understand in the following contexts - games, food, games and did I mention games?
"What's for dinner?"
"Whatever you cook!"
The charming grin fools me not. I look blankly at him
"How about pasta? You cook awesome pasta!"
Huh, is that all you can muster buddy? Am not falling for that trap. But then, am hungry too and pasta sounds good. Plus, he is being cute and giving me a lot of attention :)
"OK, pasta I guess."
"Yay! Pasta it is!"
My, my, a whoop of joy? Nice to be appreciated for a change.
I cut tomatoes into little pieces,
I cut green chillies and garlic,
I cut lemons into little cubes,
and I realize something is annoying me. TV, of course, loud commentaries, especially for basketball games always annoy me. More annoying than that are the advertisements where the salesmen manage to shout louder than the commentators.
"Can you help me umm...keep rice too?"
Anything to get you unglued from the TV.
"Yes, yes."
That was easy. I start boiling water for the pasta and turn back to see him sitting in the same position in front of the TV, a few inches short of sitting inside it.
"You said you would keep rice."
"Yes, yes."
"I am not cooking pasta"
The Toyota salesman screams, "Buy now, buy now...", just in time and I am the center of his attention again.
"What did you say? Pasta smells great..."
"I haven't started cooking it yet."
"Ha ha, of course, I was kidding, I meant it will smell great in a few minutes..."
"Of course."
"Can I help you cook there?"
The NBA play off is back on. I decide to fight now.
"I asked if you would keep rice..."
"Yes, yes."
"I am fainting and will fall dead in two minutes..."
"Yes, yes.
Sigh.
"What's for dinner?"
"Whatever you cook!"
The charming grin fools me not. I look blankly at him
"How about pasta? You cook awesome pasta!"
Huh, is that all you can muster buddy? Am not falling for that trap. But then, am hungry too and pasta sounds good. Plus, he is being cute and giving me a lot of attention :)
"OK, pasta I guess."
"Yay! Pasta it is!"
My, my, a whoop of joy? Nice to be appreciated for a change.
I cut tomatoes into little pieces,
I cut green chillies and garlic,
I cut lemons into little cubes,
and I realize something is annoying me. TV, of course, loud commentaries, especially for basketball games always annoy me. More annoying than that are the advertisements where the salesmen manage to shout louder than the commentators.
"Can you help me umm...keep rice too?"
Anything to get you unglued from the TV.
"Yes, yes."
That was easy. I start boiling water for the pasta and turn back to see him sitting in the same position in front of the TV, a few inches short of sitting inside it.
"You said you would keep rice."
"Yes, yes."
"I am not cooking pasta"
The Toyota salesman screams, "Buy now, buy now...", just in time and I am the center of his attention again.
"What did you say? Pasta smells great..."
"I haven't started cooking it yet."
"Ha ha, of course, I was kidding, I meant it will smell great in a few minutes..."
"Of course."
"Can I help you cook there?"
The NBA play off is back on. I decide to fight now.
"I asked if you would keep rice..."
"Yes, yes."
"I am fainting and will fall dead in two minutes..."
"Yes, yes.
Sigh.
June 20, 2005
Scribble, scribble.
Hardly pearls of wisdom on a beautiful necklace, more like flawed bits that were discarded but still linger around, sometimes catching the eye with their glint, sometimes just ignored because they are far from perfect - thoughts from a confused mind.
I get angry sometimes when a well meaning someone points out exactly those faults in me that I do not want to acknowledge myself. The more accurate the observations, the more I deny it and the more annoyed I become. Maybe, it's just another bit of imperfection added to a growing pile that I don't want showcased to a world that has so many almost perfect people.
* * *
Ever wonder how we (I mean the variety of us human beings that tend to get more emotionally affected) have honed the art of mis-communication to perfection? I mean, two rational human beings, capable of logical thoughts and conclusions somehow lead themselves so far down the path of mis-understandings and mis-communications, I wonder how we manage to do that so often?
* * *
Why does my ego present its nasty head just when I don't want it to? I start to say what's on my mind, I intend to praise, to compliment, to speak my heart out and then suddenly I am not really saying what I wanted to say. The words changed during the course of their little journeys from my heart to my mouth.
* * *
Ever notice how the simplest things are the hardest to articulate?
I will miss you
I love you
I do
But then again, the most precious moments are made up of things left unsaid.
So, why do I say things that I just don't mean? Why does a resounding, resolute No escape me when I mean to say Yes ? And then there are times when it's so maddeningly hard to say no when no is all I want to say.
* * *
I feel the more I get to know a person, the more I like him. There's always something interesting, novel about an individual that fascinates me - talent, humour, insight, innocence, intelligence. I also feel every little step I take in getting closer to a person takes me on an unpredictable journey, one of delightful surprises, pleasing interactions, enlightening points of view, disconcerting arguments and the one thing that scares me - expectations. At this point in my journey, a little let-down, a small expectation that is not met and I assume I am falling all the way down, to the bottom. It takes me a while to realize I am not nearly as close to the top as I thought I was and now, I am not at the bottom as I fear I am. I am just hovering somewhere in between, hoping I will climb at a steady pace. After all, every relationship can go two ways and if you are not going up, it means you are going the other way. Maybe I can decide to be satisfied with the comfortable connection that I have established and remain where I am, maybe not.
* * *
I thrive on compliments, well maybe not thrive, but atleast I am thrilled by compliments. But, it's kind of an ungrateful and unsatiable master. Each sincere word of praise is like a pleasure bolt through me and then I sit expecting more, sometimes when there is little reason to expect more.
Oh, well!
* * * And on a totally different note, it is exactly six months since I started blogging :)
I get angry sometimes when a well meaning someone points out exactly those faults in me that I do not want to acknowledge myself. The more accurate the observations, the more I deny it and the more annoyed I become. Maybe, it's just another bit of imperfection added to a growing pile that I don't want showcased to a world that has so many almost perfect people.
Ever wonder how we (I mean the variety of us human beings that tend to get more emotionally affected) have honed the art of mis-communication to perfection? I mean, two rational human beings, capable of logical thoughts and conclusions somehow lead themselves so far down the path of mis-understandings and mis-communications, I wonder how we manage to do that so often?
Why does my ego present its nasty head just when I don't want it to? I start to say what's on my mind, I intend to praise, to compliment, to speak my heart out and then suddenly I am not really saying what I wanted to say. The words changed during the course of their little journeys from my heart to my mouth.
Ever notice how the simplest things are the hardest to articulate?
I will miss you
I love you
I do
But then again, the most precious moments are made up of things left unsaid.
So, why do I say things that I just don't mean? Why does a resounding, resolute No escape me when I mean to say Yes ? And then there are times when it's so maddeningly hard to say no when no is all I want to say.
I feel the more I get to know a person, the more I like him. There's always something interesting, novel about an individual that fascinates me - talent, humour, insight, innocence, intelligence. I also feel every little step I take in getting closer to a person takes me on an unpredictable journey, one of delightful surprises, pleasing interactions, enlightening points of view, disconcerting arguments and the one thing that scares me - expectations. At this point in my journey, a little let-down, a small expectation that is not met and I assume I am falling all the way down, to the bottom. It takes me a while to realize I am not nearly as close to the top as I thought I was and now, I am not at the bottom as I fear I am. I am just hovering somewhere in between, hoping I will climb at a steady pace. After all, every relationship can go two ways and if you are not going up, it means you are going the other way. Maybe I can decide to be satisfied with the comfortable connection that I have established and remain where I am, maybe not.
I thrive on compliments, well maybe not thrive, but atleast I am thrilled by compliments. But, it's kind of an ungrateful and unsatiable master. Each sincere word of praise is like a pleasure bolt through me and then I sit expecting more, sometimes when there is little reason to expect more.
Oh, well!
June 18, 2005
5 AM, 4 thieves, 3 cakes, 2 games and 1 helluva night!
5 AM - The final foosball game ended accompanied by whoops of joy from one team (k~ & kp~) contrasting with several resounding but defeated thumps and pained expressions from the opposing team (s~ and r~). To be fair, the last game was tied till the last point and was touch and go till the last second!
I know one thing for sure, I picked the right gift...now, wait a minute, I have this presentimental unease that I am going to have to play second fiddle to a football game for many many years, starting now!
4 thieves - Balderdash, a board game that's all about goofing around with weird-sounding names, abbreviations and laws, and trying to impose what we misconstrue to be creativity to mask our own ignorance! The game by its very nature is hilarious, add v~ to the equation and you have just signed up for laughter-galore! Again, to be fair, Jose Ramon Del Cuet does(do) sound like the name(s) of 4 thieves...No, I swear I am not laughing when I say this! Not sure which was funnier - the interpretation of the name(s) or v~'s reaction when he realized everyone else had figured out that it was the name of one person! Even the creators of this game would not have imagined that people would guess Jose~ to be, A spanish conquerer who cannot spell his own name!
Delightful Deja vu - Georgetown Kite Festival and Loaded Questions!
3 cakes & 2 games - 2 birthday cakes and 1 wedding cake spread over Thursday night and Friday night; the highlight of the Thursday party was the treasure hunt and yesterday...well, yesterday was a smorgasbord of a successfully implemented surprise-party, dumb charades in a pseudo-camp setting, foosball & balderdash, thoughtful gifts & lovely cards, idlis & vadas, pots of ahem...expertly brewed gourmet coffee, a whole bunch of sillies and funnies in a rose-tinted decor :)
9.30 PM - 5 AM? - you bet your bustle, it was 1 helluva night!
And now...I just have a little bit of cleaning left to do :)
June 15, 2005
Treasure hunts, Joseph-Beth, Another life & RS.
Not that I am diverting traffic but here is an ahem...interesting post: baby k grows old - with considerable efforts put in by Pradnya and me for the clues :)
I sit on the most comfortable looking barcalounger. It has little satin pillows on it that I arrange all around me. In front of me is the finest looking coffee table with books piled all over it. Fireplace on my right, complete with an aristocratic mantel and a lifelike painting of horses and jockeys. Dim lighting, the kind found in over-expensive restaurants, unrecognizable music floating at just the right volume, interspersed with the pleasant murmer of conversations. A slight aroma of coffee and muffins tickle the senses and The Namesake is just interesting enough for me to read it and still indulge myself in the world around me, the world of Joseph-Beth.
A day at Joseph-Beth would top my list of weekend fun-things-to-do. There's something about being by myself at the book store, something about running my fingers over rows of books, picking one that captures my fancy, burying my nose in it, sniffing for the distinctive "new book smell" and settling down with it - something delightful, calming. I am alone yet around me are people just like me, searching for a book to inspire them, to indulge them, to make them laugh and cry, to create a world for them to forget reality, an alternate life of sorts.
And a blog that I read today reminded me of the very same concept - an alternate life. I wonder at times, if I had taken a slightly different decision than the ones that I have already taken, would my life be more as I want it to be, or less perhaps? I still have the chance to create the alternate life that I sometimes dream about - I mean who would not want to live the challenging life of a journalist, a writer...(read that as I would :)); for that matter, I think I would really enjoy being a primary school teacher or closer to home, how different would my life be if I were a software professional back in Madras? Would work be a daily dose of fun and chatter, movie-talk and chai, deadlines and late-night pizza...just things that are familiar and comfortable?
Sometimes, the people working at the check-out counters at the post-office at Nandino Blvd remind me of countless bank clerks and officers back in India, my mom's friends who greet me everytime I visit them and I wonder, how different would my life be if I were to be doing what they did? Slightly dusty fans working as slowly as the people at the bank, ever-silver tumblers of coffee leaving little rings on the tables, mamas with dark-brown rimmed spectacles and mamis in sarees and big kumkum pottus looking at ledgers, and people conversing in Tamil...mellifluous, comforting, pleasing Tamil...in one other word, home. Or as wiser men have sung before :), of course without the spelling mistakes!
சொர்க்கமே என்றாலும் அது நம் ஊர போல வருமா?
அட என்னாடு என்றாலும், அது நம் நாட்டுக்கீடாகுமா?
பல தேசம் முழுதும் பேசும் மொழிகள் தமிழ் போல் இனித்திடுமா?
Maybe it is paradise, but does it feel like our own town?
Be it any country, will it equal our own?
A myriad languages spoken in several nations - but none as sweet to us as our own*?
* The original lyrics say Tamil but I take it more to mean our mother tongue :)
I am not sure what am trying to say here, am not even sure I know what I am trying to convey to myself...(shaking head) RS and her silly ruminations :)
I sit on the most comfortable looking barcalounger. It has little satin pillows on it that I arrange all around me. In front of me is the finest looking coffee table with books piled all over it. Fireplace on my right, complete with an aristocratic mantel and a lifelike painting of horses and jockeys. Dim lighting, the kind found in over-expensive restaurants, unrecognizable music floating at just the right volume, interspersed with the pleasant murmer of conversations. A slight aroma of coffee and muffins tickle the senses and The Namesake is just interesting enough for me to read it and still indulge myself in the world around me, the world of Joseph-Beth.
A day at Joseph-Beth would top my list of weekend fun-things-to-do. There's something about being by myself at the book store, something about running my fingers over rows of books, picking one that captures my fancy, burying my nose in it, sniffing for the distinctive "new book smell" and settling down with it - something delightful, calming. I am alone yet around me are people just like me, searching for a book to inspire them, to indulge them, to make them laugh and cry, to create a world for them to forget reality, an alternate life of sorts.
And a blog that I read today reminded me of the very same concept - an alternate life. I wonder at times, if I had taken a slightly different decision than the ones that I have already taken, would my life be more as I want it to be, or less perhaps? I still have the chance to create the alternate life that I sometimes dream about - I mean who would not want to live the challenging life of a journalist, a writer...(read that as I would :)); for that matter, I think I would really enjoy being a primary school teacher or closer to home, how different would my life be if I were a software professional back in Madras? Would work be a daily dose of fun and chatter, movie-talk and chai, deadlines and late-night pizza...just things that are familiar and comfortable?
Sometimes, the people working at the check-out counters at the post-office at Nandino Blvd remind me of countless bank clerks and officers back in India, my mom's friends who greet me everytime I visit them and I wonder, how different would my life be if I were to be doing what they did? Slightly dusty fans working as slowly as the people at the bank, ever-silver tumblers of coffee leaving little rings on the tables, mamas with dark-brown rimmed spectacles and mamis in sarees and big kumkum pottus looking at ledgers, and people conversing in Tamil...mellifluous, comforting, pleasing Tamil...in one other word, home. Or as wiser men have sung before :), of course without the spelling mistakes!
சொர்க்கமே என்றாலும் அது நம் ஊர போல வருமா?
அட என்னாடு என்றாலும், அது நம் நாட்டுக்கீடாகுமா?
பல தேசம் முழுதும் பேசும் மொழிகள் தமிழ் போல் இனித்திடுமா?
Maybe it is paradise, but does it feel like our own town?
Be it any country, will it equal our own?
A myriad languages spoken in several nations - but none as sweet to us as our own*?
* The original lyrics say Tamil but I take it more to mean our mother tongue :)
I am not sure what am trying to say here, am not even sure I know what I am trying to convey to myself...(shaking head) RS and her silly ruminations :)
June 13, 2005
B.L.A.C.K & Bachan, Bibliomanics & Books!
"The first letters I learned were not A.B.C.D.E but B.L.A.C.K..." - the screen turns black - "Imagine the life of someone who had to live in this darkness for forty years..."
The opening lines of BLACK. The title of the movie would probably lead you to believe that it's a thriller, maybe an action movie with gangsters and racy lyrics and a predictable signature - hero-kills-villain-saves-fair-maiden. Far from it, BLACK is a movie that plays on our senses powerfully, emphatically - the sounds, the scenes, the pathos create a compelling impression. Sanjay Leela Bhansali could not have chosen a more complex, a more profound, a more unpredictable motif for a Bollywood movie, especially one featuring names as prominent as Amitabh Bachan and Rani Mukherji.
The setting, the cinematography and the filters, the music (Mychael Danna) beautifully complement the overall theme - stark, almost brutal at times - the travails that a child born deaf and blind would have to face, the devastated parents over-indulging the child, turning a blind eye to the fact that their child is growing up in an almost-inhuman fashion, because their sympathy and pity blur even the most obvious facts and enter The Teacher, a teacher who sees through the eyes of his blind children, a teacher who lives his life, vicariously through his children's darkness.
Subtlety has never been a strong point in Bollywood movies but the scene where the Teacher, Debraj Sahai is introduced, his conversations with Mrs.Nair depict his genius-bordering-madness as no amount of emotional surfeit could have.
Rani Mukherji as Michelle McNally evokes alarm, pity, awe among the viewers. The duck-like gait, the unseeing eyes that yearn to see, the emotions of a young woman, deprived of things often taken for granted, her short bursts of futility mixed anger, disappointment when her Teacher forgets her, her resolve...brilliant!
Some scenes just linger behind...when Michelle calls home to convey yet another failure with barely understandable sounds and gestures, her hands held out to feel the first few snow flakes, the first word she learns - water, the final moments when the roles are reversed, tears of recognition streaming down their cheeks - the lump in my throat and my tear-stained eyes stand testimony to the painful magic of this dark world, one that uprooted my frivolous existence for a while and reminded me of things that cannot be said, only felt - BLACK.
***
And the biblio-tag continues, tagged by k (a little bird told me he will tag me tonight:)), Prabu Karthik and FieryBlaster: Most of my recently read books and favourite books are already listed on the right hand side of this blog. The predictable list (easier for me to mention authors rather than books) - Erich Segal, Jeffrey Archer, Alistair MacLean, J.K.Rowling, P.G.Wodehouse (Jeeves' series), Michael Crichton, Henry Denker, Douglas Adams, R.K.Narayanan, Isaac Asimov...always ready for The Archie!
New favourites include: Shobha Narayanan and Nigel Watts. Also, enjoyed reading Confessions of a shopaholic - Sophie Kinsella , almost finished the series! And there are some books that impressed me no end when I read them, but that was so long back and I really wish I had the time to read them again - Fountain Head (Ayn Rand), I, Robot (Isaac Asimov), Ice Station Zebra (Alistair MacLean), If tomorrow comes (Sidney Sheldon), One (Richard Bach)...
I tag,
You all are it!
The opening lines of BLACK. The title of the movie would probably lead you to believe that it's a thriller, maybe an action movie with gangsters and racy lyrics and a predictable signature - hero-kills-villain-saves-fair-maiden. Far from it, BLACK is a movie that plays on our senses powerfully, emphatically - the sounds, the scenes, the pathos create a compelling impression. Sanjay Leela Bhansali could not have chosen a more complex, a more profound, a more unpredictable motif for a Bollywood movie, especially one featuring names as prominent as Amitabh Bachan and Rani Mukherji.
The setting, the cinematography and the filters, the music (Mychael Danna) beautifully complement the overall theme - stark, almost brutal at times - the travails that a child born deaf and blind would have to face, the devastated parents over-indulging the child, turning a blind eye to the fact that their child is growing up in an almost-inhuman fashion, because their sympathy and pity blur even the most obvious facts and enter The Teacher, a teacher who sees through the eyes of his blind children, a teacher who lives his life, vicariously through his children's darkness.
Subtlety has never been a strong point in Bollywood movies but the scene where the Teacher, Debraj Sahai is introduced, his conversations with Mrs.Nair depict his genius-bordering-madness as no amount of emotional surfeit could have.
Rani Mukherji as Michelle McNally evokes alarm, pity, awe among the viewers. The duck-like gait, the unseeing eyes that yearn to see, the emotions of a young woman, deprived of things often taken for granted, her short bursts of futility mixed anger, disappointment when her Teacher forgets her, her resolve...brilliant!
Some scenes just linger behind...when Michelle calls home to convey yet another failure with barely understandable sounds and gestures, her hands held out to feel the first few snow flakes, the first word she learns - water, the final moments when the roles are reversed, tears of recognition streaming down their cheeks - the lump in my throat and my tear-stained eyes stand testimony to the painful magic of this dark world, one that uprooted my frivolous existence for a while and reminded me of things that cannot be said, only felt - BLACK.
And the biblio-tag continues, tagged by k (a little bird told me he will tag me tonight:)), Prabu Karthik and FieryBlaster: Most of my recently read books and favourite books are already listed on the right hand side of this blog. The predictable list (easier for me to mention authors rather than books) - Erich Segal, Jeffrey Archer, Alistair MacLean, J.K.Rowling, P.G.Wodehouse (Jeeves' series), Michael Crichton, Henry Denker, Douglas Adams, R.K.Narayanan, Isaac Asimov...always ready for The Archie!
New favourites include: Shobha Narayanan and Nigel Watts. Also, enjoyed reading Confessions of a shopaholic - Sophie Kinsella , almost finished the series! And there are some books that impressed me no end when I read them, but that was so long back and I really wish I had the time to read them again - Fountain Head (Ayn Rand), I, Robot (Isaac Asimov), Ice Station Zebra (Alistair MacLean), If tomorrow comes (Sidney Sheldon), One (Richard Bach)...
I tag,
- Bus - I know you have quite a few interesting novels lined up in your "have recently read" pile!
- Rathish - I expect to be surprised by the variety that you are going to come up with :)
- A no nymous (ANM) - I vaguely remember you mentioning horror being your preferred genre, did you get a chance to read The Mango Season?
- L - I know you like some books that I absolutely don't but expect you to come up with some interesting picks :)
- VV - Since you won't start a blog, how about starting with a list of books to show us shades of the real you :) ?
You all are it!
June 08, 2005
Emotions of Nature.
This post, initiated by a conversation with d, inspired by R~K's blog about rain. Does nature reflect what we feel or do we emote what nature dons? A few faces of nature, a few faces of us...
A slight lifting of the corners of the mouth, an almost imperceptible smoothening of the crinkles of the forehead, perhaps a dimple that winks at us from one cheek…a small wave rising from the lips, touching upon every feature of the face, gently coaxing the eyes to speak, to evoke, creating magic for the one who receives it…a smile.
Mirth dancing to the sound of tinkling anklets; worries escape - a mere wisp, not the dense clouds they threatened to be; anger dissolves - pale shadows now, not clinging darkness that they posed to be; frowns curve upwards, forgetting their reasons; happy abandon embraces the self, rays of the rising sun brightening souls in slumber...laughter.
Rumbling thunder, angry flashes of lightning, ominous shades of grey that portend approaching storms - unpredictable, wrathful, destructive - anger!
Delicious raindrops on parched feelings, a surge of relief flooding anxious eyes; sometimes a torrent, a deluge of anxiety and sorrow, unstoppable, unconsolable; and at other times, an outpour of happiness that words cannot express - tears.
Sudden gusts of wind, sweeping us off our feet, unanticipated flurry of emotions that overpower when we come face to face with the quirky twists and turns of our lives - surprise.
We spin in vicious cycles, trapped in the tornado, circling endlessly in a seemingly endless misery; hurt, torn, alone for what seems like an eternity and then reason prevails, calmness descends and we emerge from our sorrow.
A myriad patterns, a paradise resplendent in white - snowflakes that gently caress and we tingle, blush, yearn; time interferes, fate intervenes and we stand numbed by its coldness, unable to understand the frigidity...sometimes, it melts and we swim in puddles of passion...and sometimes we just watch hiding behind the curtain, enthralled by the vision in white but scared to venture...and then there is christmas, perfect and white and we know we are where we are meant to be - Love.
A slight lifting of the corners of the mouth, an almost imperceptible smoothening of the crinkles of the forehead, perhaps a dimple that winks at us from one cheek…a small wave rising from the lips, touching upon every feature of the face, gently coaxing the eyes to speak, to evoke, creating magic for the one who receives it…a smile.
Mirth dancing to the sound of tinkling anklets; worries escape - a mere wisp, not the dense clouds they threatened to be; anger dissolves - pale shadows now, not clinging darkness that they posed to be; frowns curve upwards, forgetting their reasons; happy abandon embraces the self, rays of the rising sun brightening souls in slumber...laughter.
Rumbling thunder, angry flashes of lightning, ominous shades of grey that portend approaching storms - unpredictable, wrathful, destructive - anger!
Delicious raindrops on parched feelings, a surge of relief flooding anxious eyes; sometimes a torrent, a deluge of anxiety and sorrow, unstoppable, unconsolable; and at other times, an outpour of happiness that words cannot express - tears.
Sudden gusts of wind, sweeping us off our feet, unanticipated flurry of emotions that overpower when we come face to face with the quirky twists and turns of our lives - surprise.
We spin in vicious cycles, trapped in the tornado, circling endlessly in a seemingly endless misery; hurt, torn, alone for what seems like an eternity and then reason prevails, calmness descends and we emerge from our sorrow.
A myriad patterns, a paradise resplendent in white - snowflakes that gently caress and we tingle, blush, yearn; time interferes, fate intervenes and we stand numbed by its coldness, unable to understand the frigidity...sometimes, it melts and we swim in puddles of passion...and sometimes we just watch hiding behind the curtain, enthralled by the vision in white but scared to venture...and then there is christmas, perfect and white and we know we are where we are meant to be - Love.
June 06, 2005
Art, Innocence, Exuberance, the Silver Screen & Carbona...captured!
OK, I really meant to say feeble (but enthusiastic) attempts at pottery painting, a baby shower, a trip to King's Island, Monster-in-law and Kaadhal, but just felt an inclination towards grandiosity today and I indulged my whim, as always :)
If you want to relax for a couple of hours and pretend to be an artist, Pots on Fire is the place to go; Seen above - snapshots of artistic outpouring :)
Gatherings that will definitely not bore me - baby showers! Seen above - a whole bunch of babies :)
This Sunday, instead of Sunday Samayal on Sun TV, it was girl talk, Congo Falls, The Great Barrier Reef, Adventure Express, some rides that are just great for you to pose in front of and not actually "ride" - Face off, Beast, Son of Beast and finally, a tattoo (notice the small pink swan on my arm above?)! Also displayed is a small memento-rock that k picked up on our trip to Smokey Mountains last weekend :)
Ah...what would we do in life if movies were not to be...Monster-in-law and Kaadhal, talk about contrast! MIL - just my kind of chick-flick, Kaadhal - powerful, stark - wish I had cried after watching it just for closure...the scenes keeps popping up in my head...
And Carbona is what you need to carry with you at all times, especially when you go to IChing and people decide to get adventurous and pour red sauce all over your cream pants! Or you can always drive over to Meijers and walk to aisle 15 in your now cream and red pants and then buy it :)
That's the last few weeks in black-and-white, actually in brown-and-pink and in colors :)
If you want to relax for a couple of hours and pretend to be an artist, Pots on Fire is the place to go; Seen above - snapshots of artistic outpouring :)
Gatherings that will definitely not bore me - baby showers! Seen above - a whole bunch of babies :)
This Sunday, instead of Sunday Samayal on Sun TV, it was girl talk, Congo Falls, The Great Barrier Reef, Adventure Express, some rides that are just great for you to pose in front of and not actually "ride" - Face off, Beast, Son of Beast and finally, a tattoo (notice the small pink swan on my arm above?)! Also displayed is a small memento-rock that k picked up on our trip to Smokey Mountains last weekend :)
Ah...what would we do in life if movies were not to be...Monster-in-law and Kaadhal, talk about contrast! MIL - just my kind of chick-flick, Kaadhal - powerful, stark - wish I had cried after watching it just for closure...the scenes keeps popping up in my head...
And Carbona is what you need to carry with you at all times, especially when you go to IChing and people decide to get adventurous and pour red sauce all over your cream pants! Or you can always drive over to Meijers and walk to aisle 15 in your now cream and red pants and then buy it :)
That's the last few weeks in black-and-white, actually in brown-and-pink and in colors :)
June 01, 2005
Swinging along the pendulum, Life...
A pendulum, swinging along, gently at times, violently, to extremes at times, swinging all the time, searching all the time, to find the center, the essence...I cling to the pendulum as it takes me on its tumultuous journeys, my life a kaleidoscope of choices, of courses of action that I had taken in the past, of diverging paths that I need to discard or make my own today, of decisions hiding in the dark recesses of my mind that will haunt me in the future, of those that are merely dew drops on roses, gentle but frivolous caresses? Maybe they are decisions that will whisper pleasantly in my ear many years from now, gentle reminders of a wise judgement? I do not know, today, I just swing along with the pendulum...
Decisions...life is just one decision after another. I mull over the pros and cons, dwell on my preconceptions and prejudices, seek words of wisdom and helpful counsel and I swing with the pendulum, on yet another journey, to unknown thoughts and undiscovered feelings, buried within me, ebbing to the surface, sometimes with shocking revelations, sometimes with unexpected answers...I sway, undecided, each time, one moment convinced of a decision and at another, convinced that it's not right for me; my fickle mind hesitates, changes course and I mutely follow, hoping that it takes me to a destination that I shall find peace in.
Each time, the decision entwines itself inextricably with my self and I struggle to retain an identity that is not the decision itself; I worry about it, live in it and let myself be swallowed by it; each time, the decision becomes the panacea or the Pandora's box of my life, depending on which direction the pendulum swings, and the journey completed, I look back and see that it was neither - my imagination was playing tricks on me as it always has, enticing me to believe that the decision will mark, a triumph, a victory in my life or maybe mark my doom - all it was, was a small decision, a small stepping stone in a path filled with more such stones and many boulders, within and outside.
Perhaps, today, at this moment, the decision seems momentous and all-consuming to me, perhaps tomorrow, it will just be yet another triviality that I had over-indulged, yet another journey on the pendulum that had seemed the ultimate journey then but was just a simple swing; the vagaries of life will unveil more such journeys...maybe each journey will make the next one easier, wiser, a little less dramatic?...journeys that join hands to lend meaning to the one word - Life!
Decisions...life is just one decision after another. I mull over the pros and cons, dwell on my preconceptions and prejudices, seek words of wisdom and helpful counsel and I swing with the pendulum, on yet another journey, to unknown thoughts and undiscovered feelings, buried within me, ebbing to the surface, sometimes with shocking revelations, sometimes with unexpected answers...I sway, undecided, each time, one moment convinced of a decision and at another, convinced that it's not right for me; my fickle mind hesitates, changes course and I mutely follow, hoping that it takes me to a destination that I shall find peace in.
Each time, the decision entwines itself inextricably with my self and I struggle to retain an identity that is not the decision itself; I worry about it, live in it and let myself be swallowed by it; each time, the decision becomes the panacea or the Pandora's box of my life, depending on which direction the pendulum swings, and the journey completed, I look back and see that it was neither - my imagination was playing tricks on me as it always has, enticing me to believe that the decision will mark, a triumph, a victory in my life or maybe mark my doom - all it was, was a small decision, a small stepping stone in a path filled with more such stones and many boulders, within and outside.
Perhaps, today, at this moment, the decision seems momentous and all-consuming to me, perhaps tomorrow, it will just be yet another triviality that I had over-indulged, yet another journey on the pendulum that had seemed the ultimate journey then but was just a simple swing; the vagaries of life will unveil more such journeys...maybe each journey will make the next one easier, wiser, a little less dramatic?...journeys that join hands to lend meaning to the one word - Life!
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