The Lars Loneliness

Just saw the movie, "Lars and the real girl" and identified with it immensely. It tells the quirky tale of a sweet, innocent guy called Lars who begins to treat a doll as his girlfriend and lives the entire life cycle of a relationship with her, imagining her side of the conversations, her choices, her life story, her preferences giving her such emotional depth that in the end when she 'dies', people in his church congregation shed a silent tear for her. It is such an amazing, unbelievable plot made so freakingly acceptable that you are compelled to empathise with the characters inspite of their seemingly lunatic behavior that borders on the extremes of ridiculousness.

Even though the premise of the story is crackling, the real beauty lies in the fact that inspite of Lars' mooniness, people around him try and adjust to his new reality, patiently accepting Bianca (his doll girlfriend) as a real person, even getting her jobs as a model (cute!!), a school story book reader (with a tape recorder) and giving her makeovers. Ofcourse there is the initial discomfort and disquiet that a few of the them experience but eventually they go along with the pretense of it and somewhere I think, most of them feel a sort of companionship with the mute doll and a comfort in her inoffensive, unassuming presence.

There are also some hilarious mini-anecdotes about grown-up co-workers and their possessiveness over little action figures and teddy bears. I guess all of us have such affections for non-living things and I think that is the writer's way of saying that Lars is a normal person, just very lonely and socially inept, probably due to supposed-problems with his upbringing by a single parent, having had lost his mother at birth and that his attachment to the doll is just a magnified, blown up version of our own quirky, little, emotional ties with our lifeless possessions. I guess all of us are lonely; if not always, atleast at some point of time in our lives and not everyone is lucky enough to find a real person to share their troubles with, so we (as in we, the absolute irrational, illogical beings that we become sometimes) seek solace in the non-judgmental company of our little toys. And that's real...

Do watch the film...it is a little slow at times, but amusing and thought-provoking for most of it.

My newest love..

The day I purchased the iPod, I realized that I probably made the second best investment of my life (the first being my laptop). It is absolutely fantastic!! Though I am the queen of over exaggeration, I swear there’s none of it here. To me, my iPod is a gorgeous piece of equipment that sucks me out instantly from the occasionally dull routine of everyday life and transports (or rather in the Harry Potter universe ‘disapparates’ me) to another world where music and lyrics lay out a fascinating conundrum of ideas, imaginative possibilities, meshed up with my memories and spruced up by a dash of inspiration.

It is like my wired chair from the colorless, drab Zion to the deceptively seductive Matrix of infinite, superficial pleasures –the passion, the madness that only love can summon, the high that only drugs can give, the abandon that comes with irresponsibility, the intolerable pain that heartbreak brings, the adrenaline rush of a bungee fall; sometimes all at one go…One minute I am this zombie, sleepwalking through life with the maddening city bustling around me and the next minute as the iPod plugs in, I become this high-octane, supercharged megatron zooming past people, places experiencing everything on a different level of rhythm- induced fauxmoreality that seems more pulsating as I see things happen over the background track playing in my ears.

For eg: Like if I am at the railway station trying to break through the ranks of people, in an attempt to catch the elusive fast train and say the track ‘Adiemus’ (from the incomparable ‘Lord of the Rings’) is playing on the iPod, I begin to imagine myself as a hapless warrior trying to break through the enemy ranks, vanquishing hostile beings with every swish of my sword, inspite of my numerous, failing wounds, all in a desperate attempt to somehow make it to my fatally-wounded beloved’s side before death claims him forever. And trust me; this helps to enjoy the otherwise tragically unpleasant and tiring task of having to run for the train, day after day. It is so filmy, I know….but it is better than real life.

Then at other times, when I watch a couple walk by on the road, chatting, talking, laughing; generally enjoying each other’s company, I associate it with the love song playing in my ears. Suddenly the lyrics come alive, the tune becomes more melodious, it is like I am watching a mini movie unfold before me. And I remain astounded at how close these artistes, these musicians come to capture the essence of emotions in their words, their tunes…and how close I am getting to experiencing it thanks to the iPod.

And it is not just the music…Since I have the classic iPod, I have trailers…Lovely trailers of movies that seem eminently watchable and will most certainly never be released in India…How I love my country!! But still, it’s a joy to watch them. And then there are podcasts; about films, scriptwriting et all - masterfully narrated or intellectually discussed in interviews that are just like icing on the cake to the already piled-up fantabulousness of the iPod…

The only glitch though is that I have to exercise a very high level of self-control and try not to break into an impromptu sing-and-dance routine when I am listening to my favorite dance numbers….and that happens almost every day atleast a hundred times, so it’s a real test for me…but otherwise I am doing great with my iPod. Thank you, Steve Jobs!! You are a genius.

Right now the theme song of my life: ‘Jump’ by Madonna.

That's me!!

I am the kind of person who'd die, go to heaven, be welcomed by the angels, have a seat all decorated for me, be escorted by beautiful demi-gods who'd take me to it, have a symphony played as I walk down to it, then as I sit on it and the ceremony reaches a crescendo, I realize that it is the sacramental seat for those to be sent as an envoy to hell - forever!!! And for what??? To try and reform the evil there....

That's all there is to my life!! No real heaven...only detour trips through it to hell....

Raindrops keep falling on...

Hey check out this pics that i clicked the other day at home; nothing new about them but was fun...

No photoshopping here; they are cropped a little though for effects....

Like a century has passed me by...

It does feel like that these days...I mean from the time that I left college, then joined Wipro, then left Wipro, then joined Mindscreen, studied, learnt, experienced there, then passed out, did films as an assistant, each one unique, met different people; people of all levels - moral, social, intellectual, spiritual, professional....got more than a peek at the stars - their lives, their ways, their mannerisms, their dedication to the job, their success, their pain, the way people perceive them, the way they truly are....seems like an eternity since that last day at college...I was 21 then, in a matter of 5 years, I feel like I have lived through 5 decades of life...and yet there are lapses of time in between where I remember being all by myself, devoid of any human contact for days together. Still I have so many million moments of having discovered people, one little idiosyncrasy at a time. And so many of them. And I remember them as if I have had them yesterday.

Sometimes I feel like I lived my life well....but then again maybe not. I spent time poring over books when other girls were discovering nailpolishes, scrap books and romances. I was visiting encyclopedic websites when others went club hopping; I was locked up in my room doing self-assigned projects when people were opening up to idea of beach vacations and rain dances. I was struggling to find my vocation when most were climbing up the professional ladder with the gusto of a trained tiger out to make a kill. Most of my friends are married by now, some might even be expecting a kid while I am still to even begin a decent relationship(an almost impossible concept to me) . I don't know if I am a loser or just one of those people who take too long...but then again how much is too long?

I'd like to think I am a little different....maybe not always in a good way but almost never in a bad way. I have taken time with things but then I have learnt my lessons well. I have never had a romance but I can bet my a** I can write a great love story. And even if I spend very less time with others in general, my mind makes every moment count. And to top it all, I have learnt to live centuries within a span of years...So even if die tomorrow, it hasn't been a sad life. Well a little sad but definitely not uninteresting.

I always thought I would wake up one day when I am 35, completely unable to recognise my husband lying next to me, dripping with sweat after having had a terrifying nightmare, unable to recall most of my boring life except the one moment when I should have made a decision to switch to what I really wanted to do and didn't find the courage to go ahead with it...This was my greatest fear till the day I changed the course of my life. Today I am not who I want to be but atleast I am somewhere on that path....not on the top but definitely trying to figure the best way up there...I guess it ain't too bad...somehow...

I believe..

That emptiness is the beginning of a new Universe

A whiff is the strain of a new scent

A lonely thread spurns a yarn

And a drifting heartbeat eventually makes a song

And that the Universe with these million scents woven into a thousand yarns floating amidst the beseeching melodies is worth the chaos of the Big Bang!!

All by myself

Living alone is not so bad as people might think. There is a unique solace in it; a silence that envelops you and keeps you calm, giving you a sense of detachment that makes you a part of this world yet away from it as if you were a star far away in a nameless galaxy watching the earthlings as they busy themselves with their lives.

You can hear your own thoughts a little louder, you can break into a song at will and not have to explain, you can talk to yourself and not be taken for a lunatic, you can dance at will, sprawl your clothes all over the floor and not have to tidy up every freaking day. You can eat as you like, sleep as you want, talk all night on phone without disturbing anyone else’s sleep, watch all the movies you’d like at the volume you prefer, return home late at night without having to tiptoe. It’s a world without rules…and only you are welcome to it…

So all by myself...just wanna live....all by myself

The real drama kings and queens...

Last month, there was a huge uproar over the title 'Billu Barber'...all the hair technicians seemed to have gone to the court seeking a stay over the movie cause it 'downgraded' them as 'barbers':(Answers.com definition - One whose business is to cut hair and to shave or trim beards) and this had obviously not gone down too well with these refined stylists. Anyways many people perceived it as yet another publicity gimmick....

Now I haven't seen the film but seriously if anyone had any real objection at all, I wonder why....I believe the story was about a barber called Billu and so the title; the movie wasn't about the profession, it was about the man and I also don't understand how and who from the stylists community saw the film 3 weeks before its release, maybe more than 2 weeks before its first screening for the cast and crew (as per the norms) and wanted a stay on it. Somehow the media never questions like these and then they proclaim that they 'research' and 'analyse' and 'search for the truth'...search, oh really?? And then on top of it, so much coverage is given to an issue like this that's completely irrelevant and hopelessly illogical. Is only the title enough to provoke and inflame a riot of indignation and protests from the supposedly-literate and sophisticated upper class stylists? Assuming this protest was real, shouldn't they all have wanted to watch the film first and see if there's anything abusive for their profession; any real reason for them to drop their choc-o-block diary of superstar appointments and participate in this?

At the end of it, I don't think it was anything more than some more junk fodder to fill up those extra pages of the newspaper (advocating the misconception that more pages for less money is somehow a sign of a value-for-money, in-demand publication) and feed the news-hungry TV channels, mushrooming all over the place like a bad case of plague, where the so-called reporters blare into the mikes with inconsistent information and redundant data over and over again, talking about something as mundane as a man's pocket being picked with the urgency and fervor of reporting the Iraq war from amidst the crossfire. They infuse it with so much unnecessary drama, hackneyed lines and forcefully invented twists-and-turns : all they typical trappings of a C-grade potboiler. that its unbelievable. Especially channels like India TV should be banned for their overimagined, moronic stories about aliens and UFOs, replete with laughable graphics that even a 3rd std kid could top and the distorted crime stories, so cheap and loud that they scream out their own incredulity. It would be terribly ridiculous if it wasn't so funny...

Anyways getting back to negative publicity for movies, I hope that 'Watchmen' - the movie doesn't get stomped over by our Watchmen - Security Guard union who might mistake it to be a offensive portrayal of their profession because of its name or throw a fit over the very well - fitting costumes of the ladies and the men (all superheroes..) by crying foul over the 'over-glamorisation' of their humble uniforms. It is a real possibility these days since nothing these days is a waste of time and everything is news worthy....

The newest high...

Today, I feel more alive than I have felt in a really long time..
the last time I felt like this was the one and only time I went bungee jumping...
As I plummeted to the depths I rose to a level unknown
This was the high I never thought I could feel
I was giddy; my legs dangling loosely, my senses were ripped apart
For moments later I could look at things around, but not really see them
The experience kept flipping back and forth in my mind
And every second I wished to myself that I'd live the previous hour once again

For never has a roller coaster lasted this long nor felt this great..
I felt my soul rise again from the dead coffins of monotony
And once again my heart bubbled with a desire to create
I saw my life running back to me, feel the blood racing in my veins
I can still hear my own gasps, immerse again in the heat of the moment
Feel the butterflies in my stomach, relive the tingle down my spine

Still trying to recover from the heady breathlessness
The bewitching awesomeness of it all..

As I close my eyes now, I still see

THE DARK KNIGHT on IMAX screen...

The 'original' dilemma

I often wonder how you can ever be sure if an idea is completely original… I mean in times like these when several thousand full-length features, a hundred thousand short films, another million of ads, a ten million equivalent of novels and books and a zillion of blogs and articles are being produced every year, how can you claim to have an idea that’s cent percent unique, that’s never been done, said, written or executed before?

I don’t think these days I ever get an idea that’s original…feel like all of it or atleast a part of it has been done before…I have an unusually large database of references, thanks to an addiction to all sorts of media communication, so no matter what idea comes to me, I subconsciously begin to make links to previously viewed or read content and inadvertently end up acknowledging that my latest brainwave ain’t entirely my own...in decent words, it is ‘inspired’…

Does everyone else feel like this too? or am i the only over-analysing, self deprecating, being-hard-on-oneself lunatic?

Droning through the day...

Happy new year my blogspot...
Must be the most delayed, belated happy new year that anyone has ever said to the other..I mean come on, its 24th Feb...post-Oscar time and the world is still reeling under the spell of Rehmania and Slumdog's miraculous juggernaut and Sean Penn and his gays rights activism and the beautiful Kate Winslet with her spontaneous '..dad, just whistle out so I'd know where you are..'So cute!! But then that's me...I believe in making up for my delays and mistakes even after they cease to make a difference any more...so there!!!

Anyways, I was at home the other day and was just wondering what to do with my time...I told myself "I must make it productive" and wrote it down on 10 post-its and pasted it in different parts of my room so that it would stare in my face even if I tried to make an escape and catch an unnecessary, fat-inducing nap; which I am almost-always-tempted to take even in the most unbedlike spots on the planet. So I reluctantly switched on my computer (hoping that it wouldn't boot and then I would have a legitimate excuse to slog off and later complain about how the Universe conspires against my 'efforts' to fulfil my ultimate 'destiny'.. Ahem!!) and of all the times, that day it booted really fast; even the snail-paced Microsoft Word opened up in a jiffy and I had to sit and type in something that could be passed off as an attempt at writing.

But I was amazed for not even a single word could come out...I just tried to type in any random word but somehow even that seemed hopelessly impossible. My fingers just wouldn't type anything not even an alphabet. They just sat there on the keyboard; frozen as if on the last word that I typed for what it seemed centuries ago. My mind was blank and for the first time in my life, I had nothing to write about.

I recoiled back from the computer, unable to reconcile with this new reality of my life. I couldn't write anymore. But I wasn't going to give up so easy..so I sat back and thought about what I needed to write...something fictional? Not really...I hadn't thought of a plot for a long time now.. Maybe something of a review...but there are just so many online, so no need to add to the already existing garbage...maybe something of a personal experience, an observation, contemplation, a book that I like, poetry, something about photography (that I don''t practice, just preach about..) cinematography, people (gets too personal), places, anything....nothing...at one point of time, I was so into writing I could write an entire day about the word 'no' or 'all' or 'whatever' but now I just couldn't...

The horror of my new 'current status' lasted for two days...in those two days, I slept (predictably, assuring myself that the rest might do the trick...hah, as if) , ran some errands, did mindless couch surfing (but then how else do you watch TV?) and kept buzzing around the house like a lost bee; staring for hours at uninteresting flower vases for inspiration, trying to cut fruits to see if an idea pops out, drawing random circles and retracing them in an effort to sketch out a plan to write but nothing worked...I picked up a Satyajit Ray short story book in an effort to voodify some of the master's creativity into me. I scanned through newspaper meticulously; even reading the bland stock columns to stimulate something inside the jammed clogs of my brain, I cleaned out my closets, washed my clothes, read through some of my old stuff but nothing seemed to even bore me into writing.

And then I did the most unthinkable - I actually stepped into the kitchen and seriously thought about 'cooking'. That was it - I had reached the heights of desperation...it was not just worth it anymore. I began to prepare myself for a life without the painful but gratifying adventure of writing. It would be dull, I thought, terribly unfulfilling, for sure but I will live it through. I said it out loud enough for all the deaf cabinets to hear and finally I let my natural lazy self take over my damned spirited imagineer. At night, I logged onto Youtube and saw clips from 'The Dark Knight' with the menancing Heath 'Joker' Ledger in it. I sat in awed silence and played the clips over and over again...each line he said, the terrifying way in which he said it...I just couldn't get enough...

The next day morning (today), I sat and wrote this piece of fiction...

A week of great films…

It has been a terrific week!!! I have watched five great films that have dazzled me; everything or atleast more than two things are superlative about each of them. And all of them have unfortunately left me doubtful of my own abilities as an aspiring filmmaker… Anyways, there’s a lifetime to find out if these doubts are justified or not…for the time being, I will talk about the movies;

The week started with ‘Adaptation’; It was a late Monday night and I was so goddamn sleepy but also hell-bent on watching this flick so with reluctant eyes but more than an eager heart I set out to see it and from the opening monologue itself, I was completely hooked on…The first dialogue of the film was something like this

Do I have an original thought in my head, my bald head?
Maybe if I were happier my hair won’t be falling off
Life is short; I need to make the most of it
Today is the first day of the rest of my life
Huh, I am a walking cliché
I really need to go to the doctor and have my leg checked; there’s something wrong with the bone
The dentist called again, I am way overdue
If I stop putting things off I’d be happier
All I do is sit on my fat ass
If my ass wouldn’t be fat, I would be happier
Then I wouldn’t have to wear shirts with the tails on them all the time…like that’s fooling anyone…fat ass…
I should start jogging again…5 miles a day…really do it this time…
Maybe rock climbing….I need to turn my life around
What do I need to do? I need to fall in love..

When I was hearing this, I couldn’t stop laughing because I could so easily identify with the chaos that the scriptwriter character, Charlie Kauffman was going through…I mean this is what I think about most of the times; things like ‘how I lack an original thought’ and ‘how I need to do this or that to improve my life’…it was all so hilarious, I replayed it thrice before seeing the rest of the movie.

The rest of it was also so great; it is a story of the scriptwriter, Charlie and his twin brother, also aspiring to be a scriptwriter and who is more interested in writing the ‘psychological thriller of split personality serial murderer who’s also the cop’ kinds. Charlie meanwhile is a loner struggling with mid-age crises, low self-esteem, intimacy issues and above all, a restless urge to write a completely original script. For this, he decides to adapt a novel about orchids and then his story, the novel writer’s personal story, the story in the book and the process of his writing the script all become a part of this film’s story.

It talks about so many things and yet manages to remain coherent and emotionally satisfying…the film debates about what makes a good script, the volatility of relationships, orchids, how passion directs or misdirects people, taking control of your life and so much more. There’s comedy, romance, adventure, suspense, drama, some unexpected action, tragedy, hell even some scientific ‘gyaan’ on evolution and orchids and all of this is neatly done without any spill-off or loss of track. It is one crazy brilliant script, accompanied by some great performances especially by Nicholas Cage in the dual roles of the scriptwriter twins and that of Chris Cooper as the enigmatic ‘orchid thief’ John Larouche. Coming from the man who wrote the path breaking ‘Eternal Sunshine of the spotless mind’, this is a rare movie for all to watch and enjoy…I thoroughly loved it and has become one of the few movies that I don’t mind watching more than once…

Next I saw Stanley Kubrick’s ‘Lolita’…again the setting was midnight on a tiring Tuesday but more about this and others in the next blog…I am off to sleep now…haven’t slept properly for most of the nights this week…but its been fun…

A thousand little things to ask…

Normal people are supposed to have 60,000 thoughts every day…In case of my hyperactive (and often clumsily immature) mind that doesn’t rest even for ten – millionth of a second, its safe to presume that atleast a billion of thoughts must be clashing into each other every single day. And out of these many, many, many, many thoughts, quite a few are open ended silly questions for which I almost never have answers…

Like at the top of my head now; I wonder where Superman hides his enormous cloak when he is dressed as Clark Kent, with the neat suit and the normal pants?

Why am I always hated by my ‘likeable’ roommates? Do I have something called as ‘Roommatophobia’ which turns on some subcutaneous glands that emit some foul, repulsive secretion that excites the ‘hate’ hormones in them….I mean, come on…what’s the deal with me almost never having a great roomie? It is like I am cursed for this sort of scarred life….

Next on my list…why did I (instead of all the rich and all the mega rich people around me) have to lose my N95 (which incidentally was also a gift)?? And that too on the third day after getting it…

People like Van Gogh, Mozart, Nietzsche, Baron, Poe were fascinatingly original and brilliant in their work and truly unfortunate in their lives….Is blinding talent and unfailing misfortune a part of God’s package deal for every other genius? Or is terrible suffering the only one true inspirer?

Was 2/3 rd of the Spiderman 3 movie directed by an alien masquerading as Sam Raimi? Or did Sam Raimi think that SFX was more important to the movie and sat all along in the Sony VFX lab asking his juniormost AD to direct the film? I mean what went wrong there?

Why don’t I ever have my camera on me when there is actually a great ‘Kodak’ moment?

Is morality ever linked to spirituality? Can you be immoral and spiritual at the same time?

Why does a pimple make a preposterous appearance on my face exactly two days before I really need to look good for an event? And why does it always have to get bigger the day before?

Why is it that on days that I don’t apply the sunscreen, the sun just wistfully decides to turn a full-intensity glare on me? Whereas on days when I am actually fortified and dare the sun to come out, it is just pleasantly cloudy or rainy…

Is having short stature and big feet the next step in evolution?

How stupid and ignorant we must seem to the Powers watching over us as we fight for the terrain that isn’t ours, for the resources that are meant for all of us using the fragile excuses of religion and race, indicating a weak (though scientifically evolved) mind that is unable to conjure up a better reason for war….Is global warming and all its side-effects such as hurricanes, pole reversal, melting glaciers and rising sea levels an indication of the judgment day approaching?

Which kind of movie wins at the Cannes? The esoteric, unpredictable, innovative abstract kind or the emotional, predictable, slow but life affirming kind?

If ‘the secret’ [as indicated in the book ‘The Secret’] to having anything in life is just based on imagining that we already have it and believing strongly in it then why don’t I have the Oscar already? I give my acceptance speech almost every day… L

Is love the greatest myth of all times?

Another Superman one….If we have Superman, why do we need all the other superheroes on the Justice League? I mean, how many people could you possibly need just to keep the stone of Krypton away from Superman? Nine???

With just this little trailer of my erratic-thought-superhighway mess, one can imagine what a mad house it must be inside my head most of the times. With this valueless insight, I come to the end of the silliest blog I have ever written….but you must understand that I gotta put down my load of stupid inclinations somewhere…now that it is offloaded here, I will get back to my serious (read: boring) musings and introspections about everything and nothing…and hopefully next time will have something less brain-damaging than the above…

High on music…..

My life is full of passions and obsessions; quite a few that border on the edge of insanity. One of those passions is music; not that I say that I am deep into chords, strings or that I can recognize an A - major from a D - Minor at the first beat itself but it is just that I respond to music better than anything else.

Music changes the air around me; filling it with the vitality that its rhythm dictates and this very change affects me; affects me so much that I lose track of the time and space around me. Cliché, but true. I have to make a deliberate attempt to stop myself from dancing to or emoting the way the song requires me to. Sometimes when I am in a mood to chill out, I let myself go even if I am in the midst of friends often ending up facing them red cheeked when I come back from my musical trip. They find it amusing; I find it an embarrassing but difficult to control phenomenon.

Many a times when I am not listening to a record being played on a player, I am atleast running one inside my head, if not singing it out loud. I am not a great singer but I try and put my feeling in it. When a song plays, several images run through my head; sometimes they are those that I have seen on the video, sometimes they are my own but there is almost no time when there’s none. Music stimulates imagery in me; some known some out-worldly….like revealing a part of me to myself that I didn’t know before. I feel things I never knew existed or some others that I thought I was incapable of comprehending in just a beat. Sometimes when I hear a beautiful song and the singer’s soul touches mine; it almost feels like love at first sight, fleeting and arresting; breathtaking and grounding; knockout and uplifting all at the time. With few of my favorite songs, the ‘love at first sight’ keeps repeating over and over again…

Music thrills me; entices me, fills up the bottomless void inside of me atleast for a while. It inspires hope, nudges my dreams, stirs up dormant desires, makes me wanna fly…Most of all it makes me feel alive...It is about the only thing that helps me shed my inhibitions completely and it is the only high I will ever need – rest of the stimulants being pathetically incomparable (Not that I have tried any but then never felt the need for them). Music is my addiction; not that I’d die without it but I sure feel like I stop living when it isn’t around…

Putting my pen down

For a long time now, I haven’t wrote….Not because I haven’t found anything worth writing about, also not because its not my ‘thing’ anymore but for the simple reason that I didn’t feel like it…

I wonder why? Why don’t I feel like I want to write anymore? Is it the fear of exposing to myself what I have metamorphosed into over a period of time that hasn’t been entirely uneventful? Or maybe is it is the fact that life has thrown so many experiences at me that I haven’t been able to reflect on any single one before I have to juggle another? Could it be that I am just not bold and honest enough as before to acknowledge the chaos inside and try and find a solution by confronting my demons by writing about them? Or is it just plain laziness?

I should stop asking myself so many questions and breathe enough to let my mind come up with some plausible answers. Phew!! Ok, maybe it is some rare planetary alignment of all of the above problems that’s causing this weird ‘block’ in my mind and almost paralyzing all my perceptions. My thoughts are just fluttering around like migrating birds caught up in bad weather, unable to find their way home. Flung between torpedoes of changing moralities and conflicting interests, they try to make sense of the real and the surreal. Someday may be they will flock together; maybe they will find the right direction but till then my pen will keep scribbling around hoping to find its flight of imagination….

Reaching out in the dark

Its amazing how everything in life can be picture perfect but yet incomplete...how something so obviously fantastic to others can be so damning for you.
We keep striving all our lives to achieve these impossible goals hoping that when (if ever) we get there, we could allow ourselves to relax, to smile, to be happy and to chill out for a while. But sometimes, I think we get so used to this strife that life without it doesn't really seem like a life at all. It seems like a waste of time and so we further our ambition and set another Herculean goal for ourselves so that we can (masochistically) strive to achieve that too...again promising our tired soul of salvation once it is done. But of all the promises you make, the ones you least honour are the ones you make to yourself. And thus the vicious circle continues....ambition, strife, achievement, dissatisfaction, new ambition and so on...
I wonder if we ever shall find the elusive happiness that is actually (and unpompously) the reason why we enter the vicious circle in the first place. I don't know if I ever will; because I know that I can tick off objectively all that my ambitions from the to-achieve list once I am satisfied but I am yet to find a singular thing that can fulfil me.

At the Asiatic

Following are some of the pictures that I took at the Asiatic Town Hall, Mumbai

God is dead

This startling philosophy (and to a God-fearing person like me, this is almost blasphemous) is one of the pillar stones of the ground breaking and surprisingly insightful work by German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche. Since having watched the movie ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ where the brother character is heavily influenced by Nietzsche, I was interested in finding out about him and when I did I couldn’t help but be quite impressed by it.

Take a look at some of his ideas:

The basic one ‘God is dead’

Since Nietzsche’s work is open to multiple interpretations, none of which can claim to be a thoroughly accurate version of what he intended to say, this particular line could be interpreted in many ways. One is the obvious – Nietzsche with his love for ‘aphorisms’ and his ‘Anti-Christ’ polemics could have meant that God is literally dead. But scholars believe that it could mean that the universal view-point is lost. No one views an issue with the ‘big-picture’ mentality any more; every one has their own selfish, narrow-minded outlook towards issues and its resolution is done only for the benefit of oneself; not for the universal good of the society or the world as a whole. No wonder we have so many wars, genocides and hate-crimes. None of us really think of what we are doing to the world; all we are bothered about are our own short-term, thoughtless and self-centric goals. So true!

The will to power

In Nietzsche’s opinion, this will to power is the prime motivation for all our actions and ambitions; contrary to the belief that ‘will to live’ or ‘will to unite with good/God’ or even ‘will to be happy’ could be the motivating factors and I totally agree with him. Nothing motivates like will to dominate; the will to have power, honor & glory. Else why would we be risking our lives, our reputation and many a times the savings of a lifetime for that one elusive prize? Power is all that we seek. And that’s what keeps most of us going, consciously or sub-consciously. So if you think you are not one of those in the rat race for power and authority, think again….you just might realize the painful truth about yourself.

Eternal Recurrences

This one actually takes the whole Hindu philosophy of ‘reincarnation’ to a whole new level. Nietzsche’s idea of ‘eternal recurrences’ is interpreted as the possibility of all of us having to live this same life eternally, time after time and all the reason why we should live it in the most vital way we can.

Now I am not completely convinced that we have the same life over and over again but I do believe that we must live it in the best way we can. And not because we will need to repeat the same again in the next life but because I don’t think we will get the same chances again ever. So actually while agreeing somewhat with Nietzsche on this, I have to partially disagree too. But all said and done, what I am most awed by are Nietzsche’s originality and courage in taking a firm, anti-Christian stand against the reigning beliefs and the philosophies of acknowledged heavy – weights like Plato, Socrates, Kant and Schopenhauer. Man, what guts!!

The irony of his whole life was that it seems that the cause of his death was supposedly ‘his disillusionment and mental maladjustment with his own philosophies’…

Fly me to the moon

Fly me to the moon
Let me play among with stars
Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, baby kiss me

Fill my heart with song
Let me sing for ever more
You are all I long for, all I worship and adore
In other words please be true
In other words I love you

Could the art of speaking your heart out get any cuter and charmingly disarming than this? That’s the magic of Frank Sinatra and his eternally imitation-worthy poetry of love and life. But just the words aren’t enough. You have to listen to the voice behind this; classic, sexy, gentlemanly and so…so alluring….it is almost magical..

Frank Sinatra, the ‘greatest entertainer of the 20th century’; what a voice, what a talent! His songs 'The way you look tonight', 'Night & Day' etc. are a crash course in how to cast a spell on women.

I, for one, am already on my flight to the moon...

A little less conversation…

‘….A little more action please’, Elvis Presley’s immortal lines from one of the most popular songs of all the times. Remixed as JXL feat Elvis Presley, this chart-topping hit is one of the greatest dance numbers and personally a huge favorite. Is also heard as the background score for the smart, witty and clever ‘Ocean’s Eleven’. But more than its racy beats, its foot-tapping rhythm, it is the sound of Elvis Presley’s voice that’s hypnotic, especially when he says, “Come on baby, I am tired of talking…Grab your coat, let’s start walking”. Elvis Presley: the rebel, the enigma, the charisma, the controversy, the magnetic stage personality, the style that provoked a trillion impersonations and a smoldering sensation that ignited a million musical ambitions.

Elvis’ life and times are the stuff that makes legendary folklore. Through personal setbacks and destructive exploitations of his musical genius, he continued making music that still rocks the charts and keeps him at the No. 1 spot of the highest earning deceased celebrities. It is no wonder that Elvis pulls off this astonishing stunt posthumously year after year because he has spent a lifetime inventing the shocking and achieving the extraordinary; his on stage-antics (a.k.a “anit-Christian, sexually provoking” dance moves) had the conservative Church authorities condemning and banning him, his introduction of the so-called Black music into the mainstream line was disturbingly original, he was the first real popstar with his electrifying movements, the trademark white costume, white shoes, fashionably large glasses mesmerizing overbooked concert stadiums and flooring young and old alike, he defied convention to put rock-and-roll and blues together, he entertained audiences with a fervor and vigor that was considered vulgar and almost superhuman, his love life was hyped and discussed and contemplated about yet in his own confession it was singularly non-existent, he was the subject of the greatest ridicule, criticism and polemics ever written and also the object of everyone’s overwhelming love, undying admiration and blind devotion. Elvis was in short, one for all, all for one.

While listening to his music, I found that his voice had an unusual quality of sounding tender, strong, booming, low-key, playful, sad, loving, condemning each at different times; sometimes sounding all of these at one go. Listen to the shivering “Fever” sung with a minimal musical accompaniment that makes you wanna feel love as ‘a lovely way to burn’ and the classic, drenched-in-honey love anthem “Can’t help falling in love with you”, sung with such deep, surreal passion that it melts the strongest defenses of your heart. From the rebellious, fun-filled “Jailhouse Rock” to the lifting gospel “Amazing grace”, from the heartfelt, genuinely warm “Sweet home Alabama” to the emotionally engaging, heart rendering and defiant “I did it my way”; Elvis’ unmistakable voice reigns supreme. In today’s world of synthesized sounds and oft- indistinguishable voices and strains, an Elvis oldie will stand out as strikingly different and instantly recognizable due to its sheer style and vocal quality.

His gradual decline into drugs and uncontrollable obesity (the videos of some of his last concerts show him as being sick and unable to perform but still holding on somehow..it is heart breaking to watch them) became a media spectacle for ridicule and speculation and his untimely death was an inconceivable shock (some fanatics believe he is still alive and the person who was buried was his twin brother…there are many such theories) but what live on are the legacy of his timeless music and his indelible charming impressions as one of the greatest entertainers of the 20th century.

Elvis, to me you are the original rockstar, everyone else is just a derivative. For the world of music, you might have checked-out of the building but you can never truly leave. ‘The wonder of you’ will always stay alive…I love you dude, you rock!!