What Dreams May Come: love and togetherness

(Talking movies, differently #5)
(Contains spoilers)

‘If you’re happy in a dream, Ammu, does it count?’ Estha asked.
‘Does what count?’
‘The happiness- does it count?’
She knew exactly what he meant.
Because the truth is, that only what counts counts.

If you eat a fish in the dream, does it count? Does it mean you’ve eaten fish?
The cheerful man without footprints- did he count?

God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy

A promise well-kept could mean a kind of heaven, and a whirlpool of nothingness can stand for a kind of hell. What amazes me about What Dreams May Come is that it doesn’t use symbolism to convey hardships in love; rather it uses the medium of imagination to explore a beautiful relationship between Annie and Chris, a kind of love that stays beyond what constitutes a kind of reality.

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In the Mood for Love: Affinity or profanity? Or, just love?

(Talking movies, differently #4)
(Contains spoilers)

Can you ground rule love with morality? If so, does it work?

Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love isn’t just a simple, visually enticing and expressive movie where a similar kind of betrayal sows seeds for togetherness in suffering that eventually circulates to its own source. It’s a movie that tries to replicate the betrayal by the sufferers in order to understand their own partners and to share affinity in the similar kind of pain thus transcending into their own kind of love. Set in the 1960s’ Hong Kong, the cultural setting of the story and the characters seems to be streamed into the rigid constructs of marriage and morality, which of course the movie doesn’t fail to portray visually by using the ‘frame within a frame’ technique of cinematography. Often caught up between the classic conflict of ‘to do or not to do,’ Chan and Su’s love is sadly left behind as a secret whispered in a cracked wall of some distant temple in Cambodia.

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Of Bombay and Wake up Sid

(Talking movies, differently #2)
(Contains spoilers)

Ten years ago when I had watched Wake up Sid, I was a child with hopes and aspirations and dreams to hold on to. At that time this movie was all about growing up and living the life of my dreams just like Aisha. The scary proposition of moving to a new city and building your life there moment by moment was exciting to me, also the independence that came along with it. The movie doesn’t focus entirely on the hardships that the Bombay city presses on you once you choose to live and make a life in this city and so then the child in me aspired for how Aisha lived and what she had.

Sid: Aisha, tum Bombay kyun aayi ho?
Aisha: Independent banne…I’ve lived all my life in Calcutta. Apni life ko ek nayi direction dena chahti thi toh Bombay chali aayi!’

Ten years later, today, I have come a long way- I pursued my graduation in Bombay, explored myself as a writer and then moved to Ahmedabad for my post graduation in English literature. Where my life was drawing parallels with Aisha’s in my years in Bombay and the independence of living I had a chance to experience in Ahmedabad, my post education time and my cluelessness today to find a purpose in life slowly drags me to relate more with Sidhharth’s character these days. In all these years my life has changed and so has the dynamism of characters crafted in the movie for me. Maybe that’s what it means when an art grows with time.

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Happythankyoumoreplease: It’s different, It’s same!

(Talking movies, differently #1)
(contains spoilers)

If you feel like you want to see some life on screen, life like the life we live every single day, a life filled with taxing emotions, personal confrontations, panic attacks because of a new job, oh why the sun is coming up so brightly at 48 degrees, a sweaty metro ride home and back and forth and back and forth the same reel over and over again but with punctuated moments of happiness and love and friendship and togetherness and those rare moments of feeling like you’ve found your ‘magical moment’ midst the hustle bustle of an ordinary life, then Happythankyoumoreplease is just the right kind of movie for you!

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The Flowing Mountain


It is a beautiful mountain,
a valley of deep blue flowers,
It is a beautiful mountain,
growing grass beneath blue flowers.
A lithe twirl of wind
makes the valley flow,
flow and flow and flow
like a river on the mountain grows.
It is a mountain with a river on top,
a dream of beautiful blue flowers,
a companion of the river you cannot see,
It’s all magic,
it is still, it flows, it grows, it seeks.

Every day the wind meanders smoothly,
it stirs the beautiful river,
it is an ocean, it is the sky-
the Flowing Mountain,
forever flows,
never dries.


#Poetrymonth post


A ladybug


It crawled on me that day,
a ladybug.
It crawled on me like a distant dream,
it delicately touched and nestled.
A moment wrapped me in its beauty,
and a ladybug held my finger.

I remember the moment clearly,
the enveloping lawns, the bedding grass,
the silent love and the settled dust.
Piece by piece the beauty
from quiet, soft eyes,
eyes that held that moment, eyes that made that moment
all that was love, all that was beauty.

A ladybug crawled on me then,
it touched me just as quietly and unnoticeably.
I remember that moment clearly,
and I, still, remember that ladybug.
It was a small ladybug,
I remember her like an embodiment
of all that was love, all that was beauty.


Happy World Poetry day!



“There are different genres of music like Jazz, Rock, Metallic… and then there is Coldplay!”

I remember a friend of mine saying this in his old school quivering voice with utmost passion for the band reminiscing how he was introduced to Coldplay. Watching him talk enthusiastically midst the mundane, chaotic rhythm of Delhi metro, I was wired to my experiences with Coldplay. It’s been a few months since I’ve been listening to Coldplay and it’s amazing how I just fell in love with the band all at once when I heard Paradise.

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Persuasion and beyond

Some books are not just books, they become their readers. Of course this is not an everyday thing and it takes immense love, learning and maybe even serendipity to find a book so special, so endearing that it becomes a part of you.

So this is how it happened one day. It was a rainy afternoon in Bombay and we had our Regional Journalism class to attend. Bombay is a very flexible city and it certainly isn’t a hassle for it, the rain I mean. But it was a lazy afternoon I suppose and nobody turned up for the class but our teacher did and so did I. What seemed to me like a disappointment for being the only one to turn up for the lecture, actually led me to Persuasion.

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