He reaches for the book, she reaches for the same book and a million stories play out in the glances they steal; Love and love only is the book that marks the beginning of their love story in Kadalukku Mariyadai. I used to love this song (I still do...)
I saw a tweet about movies that moved me and I thought it was quite some time since I'd written about movies. So, while I wait for Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya to reach our little town, here is some silver-screen-reminiscing to keep me going :)
There was this scene in Anjali where Revathi confronts Raghuvaran about something -- The exact scene is a blur but the chemistry between them really worked. The movie in itself was not a love story but this scene stayed behind with me.
Of course, there is no one like Mani Ratnam to etch out love scenes and so we have:
I remember watching DDLJ seven times in the theatre -- a fact I have repeated ad nauseum in this space! I would sit running eyes and nose crying over poor Kajol crying her heart out for SRK. I loved the terrace and moonlit night scenes and the running into his arms in the field in a white dress was probably one of my favorite scenes in the movie. This movie is probably my all time favorite love story! Folks at home assumed I had lost it and was in one of my teenage phases post this movie :)
For some reason, I can't think of many recent movies that had that baam! impact as these older ones. That probably has also to do with the fact that I am no longer a dreamy eyed teenager looking for her one soul mate and so the movies fail to turn my thoughts upside down and feature in my dreams.
Recent movies are a mix of pastel shades for me: Wake up sid and the like. Not the shocking feast of colors that older movies paint. Hmm...I wonder why that is. But, I have to run now (Seems like I am writing most of my posts as a tumble of words without much thought to organization...Oh well, at least I am writing). More on the movie topic (but of course) later!
And my current obsession:
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
March 31, 2010
February 09, 2010
The ringless situation.
So, I've been asking k for a new ring with my birthstone in it ever since my old one got yucky and gave my ring finger a weird looking wrinkle. He has tried all techniques that husbands employ -- agreeing and then pretending that he forgot, plain dilly-dallying, pretending to focus on blank spot with more intensity, changing the topic to li'l r (This is a good one, I fall for it almost all the time), asking me about myself or my blogs (This one works well too), throwing in random related questions, "Yeah, you think we should check out the rings in the mall?" and then, "What's for dinner?" He is too smart to refuse because he knows the consequences of said refusal but at this point I am weary and annoyed that my delicate ring finger still does not sport a glittering sapphire (or whatever my birth stone is) ring shining with the promised love of our marriage. And so, I tried a different tactic the other night:
"Where's my ring?"
"It's coming honey."
"I don't want it."
"Why? The ring is slowly on its way."
"Don't want it."
At this point, the conversation sort of petered out and wanting to prove my point, I add "Because if you buy me the ring, I will refuse to accept it. I suppose for that purpose, I would need a ring."
Looks confused, "Okay..."
"Because, I have my ego and my ring-less finger has waited long enough."
Confused look replaced my faint ray of comprehension but then goes back to looking confused again.
"Because..." At this point, I have run out of becauses, however would like to continue conversation so said ring finds its place on my ring-less finger.
"Because, there is no love left in our marriage."
"Huh?" I admit some genuine bafflement crossed his face but he was not very forthcoming.
"I don't want the ring."
And then to emphatically state what was on my mind, I add "I don't want the ring."
So anyway, am waiting for the ring since Val day is around the corner and k is sorta predictable that way. I need to prepare my rejection speech for the ring (unless of course it's a really really cute ring).
Arrrg. Why can't I be the type of girl that excitedly pointed to the ring she adored and shared it with an equally delighted girl-friend. And then k would contact said girl-friend without my knowledge, get said ring in the right size (and he would know the size because he would have secretly taken my engagement ring along with him), have it gift-wrapped in a lovely shiny white box with a little pink bow on top and then tada! You get the picture?
Man in black suit, white box in hand, down on one knee...ending with, "I can't accept this ring. The ring acceptance time has expired!"
I am not saying it has to be this ring, just saying (I swear I didn't pick it up just because it is insanely expensive and that is a fitting revenge, I really liked it)...
"Where's my ring?"
"It's coming honey."
"I don't want it."
"Why? The ring is slowly on its way."
"Don't want it."
At this point, the conversation sort of petered out and wanting to prove my point, I add "Because if you buy me the ring, I will refuse to accept it. I suppose for that purpose, I would need a ring."
Looks confused, "Okay..."
"Because, I have my ego and my ring-less finger has waited long enough."
Confused look replaced my faint ray of comprehension but then goes back to looking confused again.
"Because..." At this point, I have run out of becauses, however would like to continue conversation so said ring finds its place on my ring-less finger.
"Because, there is no love left in our marriage."
"Huh?" I admit some genuine bafflement crossed his face but he was not very forthcoming.
"I don't want the ring."
And then to emphatically state what was on my mind, I add "I don't want the ring."
So anyway, am waiting for the ring since Val day is around the corner and k is sorta predictable that way. I need to prepare my rejection speech for the ring (unless of course it's a really really cute ring).
Arrrg. Why can't I be the type of girl that excitedly pointed to the ring she adored and shared it with an equally delighted girl-friend. And then k would contact said girl-friend without my knowledge, get said ring in the right size (and he would know the size because he would have secretly taken my engagement ring along with him), have it gift-wrapped in a lovely shiny white box with a little pink bow on top and then tada! You get the picture?
Man in black suit, white box in hand, down on one knee...ending with, "I can't accept this ring. The ring acceptance time has expired!"
I am not saying it has to be this ring, just saying (I swear I didn't pick it up just because it is insanely expensive and that is a fitting revenge, I really liked it)...
February 03, 2010
This strange thing called love
I've been in the mood for poetry for some time now. So, until I get it out of my system, you will be subjected to saccharine doses of it here :)
This strange thing we call love
Of roses and stars and little white doves;
Painted black and white and everything in between
Every hue that colors the dreams of sweet sixteen;
When fluttering lashes and eyes that beguile
meet thudding hearts and bashful smiles,
Unbidden flow,
my hidden tears and lyrical words,
withering in your stormy moods;
Each speak a tale that is its very own,
Etched eternal in hearts that are sworn
to the magic, the mystery, the miracle of the moment!
Look closely and you will find,
buried in the stones, perhaps left far behind;
A lonely sea shell, opening its heart to you
Singing sweet songs just for you!
This strange thing we call love
Of roses and stars and little white doves;
Painted black and white and everything in between
Every hue that colors the dreams of sweet sixteen;
When fluttering lashes and eyes that beguile
meet thudding hearts and bashful smiles,
Unbidden flow,
my hidden tears and lyrical words,
withering in your stormy moods;
Each speak a tale that is its very own,
Etched eternal in hearts that are sworn
to the magic, the mystery, the miracle of the moment!
Look closely and you will find,
buried in the stones, perhaps left far behind;
A lonely sea shell, opening its heart to you
Singing sweet songs just for you!
February 16, 2009
Valentines Day
After many years, for a change, there was no pressure on me for Valentines day. I did not have to show to the world that I did something cool on Valentines day. You know what I mean? Sitting at home on V-day = umm...is the romance dwindling already kind of thing. So k and I always used to book a nice booth in a restaurant, wait faithfully for the 45 minutes or 3 hours time it took to push our way inside and then we would watch a chick-flick (Yes, those are the only kinds I enjoy), eat ice-cream and call it a day, satisfied that the fire of romance was still very much ablaze in our lives.
A couple of years back, I remember sitting huddled at a small table with k at an Indian restaurant. Now, "huddled" would probably have you painting images of a cozy restaurant booth, dim lighting, sweet whispers that floated about in the air as we stared into each others eyes...hah! It was more like a rickety wooden table in the middle of the restaurant with two equally aging chairs, waiters and customers shouting above the din in the restaurant and me trying to sit as comfortably as I could without jutting my elbow into the guy sitting about three quarters of an inch away from me! Yup, we did meaningfully stare into each other's eyes, k and I, "Made it! One more year. A meaningful V-day! Do we really have to do this next year?"
And then little r~ arrived and now we got to spend blissful little moments with her staying home on V-day! No guilt. We were however too lazy to cook and ordered to-go from a restaurant nearby and ended up waiting 45 minutes for our order.
Oh and k was so excited about the card that he got me, he forgot to fill it up. He came racing into the house waving the last-minute-bought colorful little card saying, "Happy Valentines Day!" and I gleefully opened the card, read it and then thought it was missing some things, like "Dear RS, Love k..." you know? The basics!
I start work in a month's time which means I can finally be a part of the super cool moms who can say things like, "Oh! I juggle baby and career...yes, I know...it's tough, I manage somehow." Woohoo!
Also, let's not forget, I turn ...shh...silence.... THIRTY in a few days! And so, I plan to get drunk and pass out on my birthday. Just like Monica. Whee! What fun!
Oh wait.
I don't drink. Oh well. I guess I will just turn thirty quietly mulling about my many achievements and glories.
Wait a minute.
There aren't that many. In fact I can't think of any except little r~.
Hmm...
Huh...
Yup, thought of one more.
This blog!
Love you blog and love you readers.
RS exits waving happy kisses at one and all, peacefully ready to step into the big three-O.
A couple of years back, I remember sitting huddled at a small table with k at an Indian restaurant. Now, "huddled" would probably have you painting images of a cozy restaurant booth, dim lighting, sweet whispers that floated about in the air as we stared into each others eyes...hah! It was more like a rickety wooden table in the middle of the restaurant with two equally aging chairs, waiters and customers shouting above the din in the restaurant and me trying to sit as comfortably as I could without jutting my elbow into the guy sitting about three quarters of an inch away from me! Yup, we did meaningfully stare into each other's eyes, k and I, "Made it! One more year. A meaningful V-day! Do we really have to do this next year?"
And then little r~ arrived and now we got to spend blissful little moments with her staying home on V-day! No guilt. We were however too lazy to cook and ordered to-go from a restaurant nearby and ended up waiting 45 minutes for our order.
Oh and k was so excited about the card that he got me, he forgot to fill it up. He came racing into the house waving the last-minute-bought colorful little card saying, "Happy Valentines Day!" and I gleefully opened the card, read it and then thought it was missing some things, like "Dear RS, Love k..." you know? The basics!
I start work in a month's time which means I can finally be a part of the super cool moms who can say things like, "Oh! I juggle baby and career...yes, I know...it's tough, I manage somehow." Woohoo!
Also, let's not forget, I turn ...shh...silence.... THIRTY in a few days! And so, I plan to get drunk and pass out on my birthday. Just like Monica. Whee! What fun!
Oh wait.
I don't drink. Oh well. I guess I will just turn thirty quietly mulling about my many achievements and glories.
Wait a minute.
There aren't that many. In fact I can't think of any except little r~.
Hmm...
Huh...
Yup, thought of one more.
This blog!
Love you blog and love you readers.
RS exits waving happy kisses at one and all, peacefully ready to step into the big three-O.
August 21, 2007
The moment has passed...
Ever felt lost in those scenes that seemed to steal the words from your heart? Mesmerized by the magic of the moment...when the dialogues seem perfect and somehow familiar? Like you have heard it before in your dreams, in your own wistful musings, in another lifetime perhaps?
"When you love someone.
You say it, you say it out loud.
Right now. Or the moment..."
Long pause...when he stares right into her eyes, as if searching for something...a glint of understanding? An affirmation? For those few moments, the sounds of the waves hitting the shore die down, the boat's motor stops roaring, just silence and a comfortable warmth as they look at each other; the sun ripples off the waves and fills everything around them in a golden haze...and a heartbeat later, the boat passes under a bridge, he swallows hard and she looks away, breaking the spell...the sun shines on them again but, the moment has passed.
"... passes you by, yeah."
Or the succinct, powerful, absolutely-madly-irrevocably-in-love declaration by Robert to Francesca:
"This kind of certainty comes but once in a lifetime."
Just perfect.
And just like life.
"When you love someone.
You say it, you say it out loud.
Right now. Or the moment..."
Long pause...when he stares right into her eyes, as if searching for something...a glint of understanding? An affirmation? For those few moments, the sounds of the waves hitting the shore die down, the boat's motor stops roaring, just silence and a comfortable warmth as they look at each other; the sun ripples off the waves and fills everything around them in a golden haze...and a heartbeat later, the boat passes under a bridge, he swallows hard and she looks away, breaking the spell...the sun shines on them again but, the moment has passed.
"... passes you by, yeah."
Or the succinct, powerful, absolutely-madly-irrevocably-in-love declaration by Robert to Francesca:
"This kind of certainty comes but once in a lifetime."
Just perfect.
And just like life.
August 10, 2007
A journey with many stops...
So, our predominantly singles gang in Lex has now jumped teams and most of our members now fall in the to-be/just/recently married category. For someone who has lived here for the past 7 years, this is another of those changes that I initially need to make adjustments to accommodate, and then adjust and finally assimilate. I remember a comment I heard recently that the real friendships are forged during your College days (For some reason, this reminds me of "Musthapha Musthapha..." from Kadhal Desam - I saw it in Bits and loved the experience - a bunch of us lit candles although it was forbidden, threw paper bits, it was riot!) but I have gained some meaningful experience and hopefully a few long-lasting relationships after Bits...In terms of social life and relationships, living in America has been quite an interesting journey for me.
GOLU @ my apartment.
In 2000 (the year I came to the US), I had no idea that I would be sharing a one-bedroom apartment with a 30 year old woman from Hyderabad who had spent several years living in N.India and then Canada and had an almost fanatical urge to keep everything squeaky clean (let's call her R~), a 20 year old from Hyderabad and a 22 (25?) year old from Madras. So the 4 of us managed to co-exist in that apartment for about a month when R~ decided she had had enough of us and she would prefer the apartment to herself. So, we packed our few belongings as R~ scrubbed the kitchen floor and we shifted (one of my many moves as a student) to a 1BR apartment in another block. Life was all hunky-dory. The 3 of us decorated the apartment, unpacked as much as we could (I kept most of my Indian dresses and winter wear in my humongous "India-suitcase") due to the limited closet space. I learnt to cook (still remember the first dish I made -a pulav with peas, three spoons turmeric and less salt, k taught me to make maggi and tea!), kept my first Golu, and was thrilled about it. My gang was predominantly Telugu-speaking and I picked up the language fast and even watched a couple of movies (Murari?, Manasantha Nuvve...). And wished I could also watch Tamil movies at times. Unfortunately the small Tamil gang at that time was pretty closed, under-grad friends who didn't seem like they were accepting new members :p
Never thought I would learn to even stand upright on skates!
Several exciting, stressful, happy - trips, fights, confessions, talks, moves later, I became friends with a Marathi/Hindi gang. Around this time I shared an apartment for a short time with a memorable room-mate, a 65 year old Bengali lady who stored a huge fish in her fridge everyday - it was always there, stored above the vegetable tray - I stopped storing anything other than milk in the fridge, I also stopped cooking at home. How I came to stay with her is an interesting story, about my not having an apartment and being declined temporary accommodation from all the senior Indian girls in the apartment complex :p Anyway, by then, I had moved away from my earlier gang, just a general drifting-apart in some cases, conscious moving-away in others and I began to fit in with my new gang. I wished I could speak/see/hear some Tamil though. Finally, k probably bored of my constant complaints suggested that I start a Tamil Cultural Assoc (at that time the Indian Students Association frowned upon regional movie screenings and any thing presented in a language other than Hindi/English), around that time I remember meeting D~ (my first impression of him was "Gosh, this guy is critical of everything in Lex!" - he found it strange that we did not have dinner in big groups and sometimes ate alone, he mentioned it about three times the first time I took him to Walmart and I thought he was a strange sort of guy! D~, by the time you get to reading this post, it would be pretty old anyway, so am hoping this will kinda slip by unnoticed :p), so anyway, I had my first real conversation with D~ about starting a Tamil Cultural Assoc and the rest as they say is history (Yeah, yeah, I like to gloat! So what?). Finally I had my beloved mother-tongue all around me and I reveled in her embrace!
During my trip to Arizona (for some reason, I had an impulse to try out pigtails :p)
Around 2003, I had a good mix of Hindi and Tamil speaking friends and then a Gujarathi (Yes, I insist on the "H") room-mate. More drifting-apart, fights, make-ups, messy birthday parties and impulsive road trips later, I now find myself in a predominantly Tamil-speaking mini-community. The surprising outcome of organizing cultural events is that I got to know the mamas and maamis in Lex and in some strange, comforting way they filled a gap in my life - I still missed my parents and relatives back home, but now I have people to remind me of them, to ask me where I purchased the pattu podava I am wearing, was it one of my marriage sarees? Someone to say, not unlike relatives back in India - "You should drop by more often, we are at home only, come and join us for dinner sometime..."
My very first car, my cute '93 Camry which I lost in an accident :(
Talking about relationships, I enjoyed working with the professors @ UK, I remember having interesting discussions, academic and otherwise with my professors - my Math TA prof, my Statistics-TA prof, my advisor. And I cannot forget the day when the wretched lady in my department insisted that I had forged my professor's signature on my defense slip and perhaps, I would never be allowed to get a degree. In retrospect, I think I shouldn't have cried and depended on my advisor to sort it out, I should have handled it myself. But, he was an angel that day, who convinced her that I was a good student who deserved her degree :p God bless him (although he made me edit my project report 11 times - each time the proposal would be smudged with red lines - "Dangling participle", "Active, not passive!", "Wrong use of the word 'example'", "The density of red on this page is too high for me to continue!").
Guess who managed to graduate!
Anyway, coming back to Tamil, k's complete sentences in Tamil surprise me every now and then. All my years at Lex, I yearned to experience my mother-tongue and finally it had come true. k says I tend to exaggerate when I tell him how all my life, I have wanted to learn and be near Tamil, as if "she" were a real person, a friend I sorely missed...I don't think he believes my story that I cried for weeks together when we shifted to Bangalore from Madras in the 80s, I sense his mild skepticism when I tell him, 5 years later no-one was happier than I when we shifted back to Madras; I insisted on taking Tamil as my third language in-spite of 5 years of Kannada and Hindi and I actually did pretty well (thanks to my mom's help with essays on Bharathiyaar) :)
So, believe it or not, I know "exactly" what the phrase below means...perhaps I needed to be away to realize how much I missed it...Bharathantyam and living-in-Madras are other example s of this same feeling (Not only am I repetitive, so are my feelings!) but that's a whole new post!
"தமிழுக்கு அமுதென்று பேர், இந்த தமிழ் எங்கள் தமிழ் இன்பம் உயிருக்கு நேர்..."
Talk about digressing! I started writing about marriages and friends and landed up in languages! Gosh, I can think of a million other things to write about my student life here but it's lunch time and am starved! Anyway, I discovered some old photos and thought I would add some visual touches to my disconnected reminiscence.
Life...can be strange at times. Memories too. But, in a comfortable sort of way.
Fall in Lex (when we were still students @ UK)...a season when our sleepy little town explodes in colors!
p.s - apologies for the spelling mistakes in Tamil.
GOLU @ my apartment.
In 2000 (the year I came to the US), I had no idea that I would be sharing a one-bedroom apartment with a 30 year old woman from Hyderabad who had spent several years living in N.India and then Canada and had an almost fanatical urge to keep everything squeaky clean (let's call her R~), a 20 year old from Hyderabad and a 22 (25?) year old from Madras. So the 4 of us managed to co-exist in that apartment for about a month when R~ decided she had had enough of us and she would prefer the apartment to herself. So, we packed our few belongings as R~ scrubbed the kitchen floor and we shifted (one of my many moves as a student) to a 1BR apartment in another block. Life was all hunky-dory. The 3 of us decorated the apartment, unpacked as much as we could (I kept most of my Indian dresses and winter wear in my humongous "India-suitcase") due to the limited closet space. I learnt to cook (still remember the first dish I made -a pulav with peas, three spoons turmeric and less salt, k taught me to make maggi and tea!), kept my first Golu, and was thrilled about it. My gang was predominantly Telugu-speaking and I picked up the language fast and even watched a couple of movies (Murari?, Manasantha Nuvve...). And wished I could also watch Tamil movies at times. Unfortunately the small Tamil gang at that time was pretty closed, under-grad friends who didn't seem like they were accepting new members :p
Never thought I would learn to even stand upright on skates!
Several exciting, stressful, happy - trips, fights, confessions, talks, moves later, I became friends with a Marathi/Hindi gang. Around this time I shared an apartment for a short time with a memorable room-mate, a 65 year old Bengali lady who stored a huge fish in her fridge everyday - it was always there, stored above the vegetable tray - I stopped storing anything other than milk in the fridge, I also stopped cooking at home. How I came to stay with her is an interesting story, about my not having an apartment and being declined temporary accommodation from all the senior Indian girls in the apartment complex :p Anyway, by then, I had moved away from my earlier gang, just a general drifting-apart in some cases, conscious moving-away in others and I began to fit in with my new gang. I wished I could speak/see/hear some Tamil though. Finally, k probably bored of my constant complaints suggested that I start a Tamil Cultural Assoc (at that time the Indian Students Association frowned upon regional movie screenings and any thing presented in a language other than Hindi/English), around that time I remember meeting D~ (my first impression of him was "Gosh, this guy is critical of everything in Lex!" - he found it strange that we did not have dinner in big groups and sometimes ate alone, he mentioned it about three times the first time I took him to Walmart and I thought he was a strange sort of guy! D~, by the time you get to reading this post, it would be pretty old anyway, so am hoping this will kinda slip by unnoticed :p), so anyway, I had my first real conversation with D~ about starting a Tamil Cultural Assoc and the rest as they say is history (Yeah, yeah, I like to gloat! So what?). Finally I had my beloved mother-tongue all around me and I reveled in her embrace!
During my trip to Arizona (for some reason, I had an impulse to try out pigtails :p)
Around 2003, I had a good mix of Hindi and Tamil speaking friends and then a Gujarathi (Yes, I insist on the "H") room-mate. More drifting-apart, fights, make-ups, messy birthday parties and impulsive road trips later, I now find myself in a predominantly Tamil-speaking mini-community. The surprising outcome of organizing cultural events is that I got to know the mamas and maamis in Lex and in some strange, comforting way they filled a gap in my life - I still missed my parents and relatives back home, but now I have people to remind me of them, to ask me where I purchased the pattu podava I am wearing, was it one of my marriage sarees? Someone to say, not unlike relatives back in India - "You should drop by more often, we are at home only, come and join us for dinner sometime..."
My very first car, my cute '93 Camry which I lost in an accident :(Talking about relationships, I enjoyed working with the professors @ UK, I remember having interesting discussions, academic and otherwise with my professors - my Math TA prof, my Statistics-TA prof, my advisor. And I cannot forget the day when the wretched lady in my department insisted that I had forged my professor's signature on my defense slip and perhaps, I would never be allowed to get a degree. In retrospect, I think I shouldn't have cried and depended on my advisor to sort it out, I should have handled it myself. But, he was an angel that day, who convinced her that I was a good student who deserved her degree :p God bless him (although he made me edit my project report 11 times - each time the proposal would be smudged with red lines - "Dangling participle", "Active, not passive!", "Wrong use of the word 'example'", "The density of red on this page is too high for me to continue!").
Guess who managed to graduate!
Anyway, coming back to Tamil, k's complete sentences in Tamil surprise me every now and then. All my years at Lex, I yearned to experience my mother-tongue and finally it had come true. k says I tend to exaggerate when I tell him how all my life, I have wanted to learn and be near Tamil, as if "she" were a real person, a friend I sorely missed...I don't think he believes my story that I cried for weeks together when we shifted to Bangalore from Madras in the 80s, I sense his mild skepticism when I tell him, 5 years later no-one was happier than I when we shifted back to Madras; I insisted on taking Tamil as my third language in-spite of 5 years of Kannada and Hindi and I actually did pretty well (thanks to my mom's help with essays on Bharathiyaar) :)
So, believe it or not, I know "exactly" what the phrase below means...perhaps I needed to be away to realize how much I missed it...Bharathantyam and living-in-Madras are other example s of this same feeling (Not only am I repetitive, so are my feelings!) but that's a whole new post!
"தமிழுக்கு அமுதென்று பேர், இந்த தமிழ் எங்கள் தமிழ் இன்பம் உயிருக்கு நேர்..."
Talk about digressing! I started writing about marriages and friends and landed up in languages! Gosh, I can think of a million other things to write about my student life here but it's lunch time and am starved! Anyway, I discovered some old photos and thought I would add some visual touches to my disconnected reminiscence.
Life...can be strange at times. Memories too. But, in a comfortable sort of way.
Fall in Lex (when we were still students @ UK)...a season when our sleepy little town explodes in colors!p.s - apologies for the spelling mistakes in Tamil.
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