Saturday, December 29, 2007

A Lot Like Love..

Oliver and Emily are two totally deranged souls who keep meeting each other over a span of seven whole years. They become acquaintances and then close friends; going through different partners (READ : lousy love lives) and careers at the same time.

The relationship between the two is portrayed perfectly, its not overdone, its not under-done. It's real. Absolutely anyone who has ever had a crush on a person, at a point of time and then drifted apart from that person, became friends with that person and ultimately said bye to that person and made peace with the whole thing, can relate to this movie.

It has a happy ending of course, because its a movie after all, what do you expect? Good soundtrack, Ashton Kutcher was his usual cute self and Amanda Peet (who is she again?) did a fairly decent job.

A must watch flick on a boring Saturday afternoon with a belly full of Mooli Parathas. *burps*

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Taare Zameen Par..

Dyslexia. I didn't give the word or the disease/disability much thought until 3 hours ago. Dyslexia is, according to Wikipedia, a specific learning disability that manifests primarily as a difficulty with written language, particularly with reading and spelling. It is separate and distinct from reading difficulties resulting from other causes, such as deficiencies in intelligence, a non-neurological deficiency with vision or hearing, or from poor or inadequate reading instruction.

Mind boggling eh? Albert Einstein, Tom Cruise, Keanu Reeves, Pablo Picasso, Cher, Muhammad Ali and Tommy Hilfiger were all dyslexic. People with dyslexia view the world with a different eye, their brains are trippy machines which spew out ideas no mortal being can fathom.

Aamir Khan's Taree Zameen Par sheds light on this disability in a very tear jerking, thought provoking manner. The things which we take for granted in our day-to-day life is a huge pain in the butt for these folks. The child actor, Darsheel Safary was just too cute. Each time he cried, got bullied by kids and was generally down in the dumps, i felt like giving him HUGE bear hugs, slobbering him with kisses and stuffing him with cookies and chocolate milk.

It's a MUST watch flick especially for children, for parents, for to-be-parents and of course for the rest of us non parents and non children.

Monday, December 17, 2007

The Lake House..

Disclaimer Note : This movie is meant only and ONLY for the die hard soppy romantics who tear every half an hour.

Clearly, i LOVED it, why else would i post about it eh? It was cheesy, slower than a snail crawling a wall and right out of a Mills and Boons book.

Don't use logic or your brains too much while watching this movie. Just relish every minute of it. Drink in every detail about the joys/sorrows of falling in love with a person you can probably never meet.

Does this kind of love exist, how can someone be so in love with someone else i kept asking myself through the whole movie. Love does not come from throwing around material possessions at each other and calling each other every second and mooning with each other. Love is.. What is Love? A pain right there in the middle of your chest, a tingly feeling of anticipation, dressing up and looking your best. What is Love?

Movies, the surreality, makes me go :( and :/ Why cant real life be just like the movies? Or are we living our lives at jet speed and forgetting to actually LIVE it.

Sunday, December 16, 2007


One more kiss could be the best thing
Or one more lie could be the worst
And all these thoughts are never resting
In my head there's only you now
This world falls on me
In this world there's real and make believe
And this seems real to me
And you love me but you don't know who I am
I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand
And you love me but you don't know who I am
So let me go, let me go..

These are the lyrics of Let Me Go by Three Doors Down. And i think it BEST describes this particular human emotion, TEMPTATION.

What differentiates us from the 10th grader who was up to no good and living a life of a rebel, from a grown up woman, whose priorities are nothing spectacular, (aka a good job, a settled non wild child life) is temptation.

The really yummy fun things in life are all merely momentary pleasures. Once you've gone through the act, it hits you hard, very HARD and then you slap yourself on the forehead and say out loud, "I've lost it, somebody stop me or throw me into the nearest asylum"

I have sobered down a LOT, thanks to college and thanks to a very sober bunch of women who keep me on a leash. Thank you ladies, thank you.

But every now and then, the wild side says, "Hello darling, did you miss me? I missed you too. Come to momma" Last evening was a very testing couple of hours for me. I bit down crazy wild lunatic me and i finally behaved my almost 21 years of age, I'm old i realize and i cant blame my behaviour on "racing hormones" anymore.

Temptation. Overcoming it, is damn hard and it might kill you a little, but the point is, its the RIGHT thing to do. So don't think, just slap temptation hard on the face and ask her to take a freaking hike. Amen!

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

I’m Alright Ma..

Varun Sharma was a very naughty little boy, who had a love for toy guns and war movies at a very young age. So it did not come as a surprise to the family, when he decided to join the Indian Army right after his Bsc Zoology course.

He excelled in his chosen career and he was very happy to be serving his country. He was itching to get into some “real action” and his prayers were answered in the year 1999. Varun was deployed to the icy heights of Kargil, a remote region in the state of Jammu and Kashmir.

The whole nation stood like a rock behind the men fighting a war forced upon India by Pakistan. Mothers lost sons, wives lost husbands and children lost their fathers.

Varun’s family, which included his parents and his pregnant wife, waited anxiously for his phone calls. He always managed to sound cheery and optimistic, but the strain in his voice was loud and clear.

The news channels declared more and more casualties in the Indian Army and Varun lost many of his friends at war.

On July 26th Varun’s wife went into labour in the wee hours of the morning. So Varun’s parents rushed to the hospital to look up their daughter in law and waited patiently for the arrival of their very first grandchild.

The baby was not due for another 3 hours, so the elders decided to take a quick nap in one of the waiting rooms.

Mid way through her sleep, Varun’s mother woke up with a start on hearing Varun’s voice.

"Ma" Varun said.

She turned over and blinked in the dim light coming from the streetlamp outside the hospital window. Varun was standing beside the bed, gazing down at her tenderly. She sat up immediately.

"Varun!!" she gasped.

He smiled and sat down beside her, as he had often done when he was little. He took her hand and said: "I want you to know how much I appreciate you and Dad. It couldn't have been easy, raising a head-strong boy like me, but you did a wonderful job."

Varun's words filled her with a great joy and a terrible fear. Tears sprang to her eyes. He gently wiped away her tears with his finger. "I came to tell you that I am all right. Take care of my little baby girl for me."

"We will," she managed to say, realizing at last what this visit meant.

"I love you, Ma. We'll be together again real soon," Varun said. He leaned forward, kissed her on the cheek, and then he was gone.

She fell back against the pillows, too stunned even to weep. Her husband, who was a heavy sleeper, woke when he felt the bed jerk. He rolled over and mumbled: "Are you all right?"

"Something has happened to Varun," she said, too grief-stricken to be tactful. "I think he's dead."

Her husband jerked awake. "What?!" he exclaimed fearfully.

And on cue, they heard the voice of a baby crying out and a nurse came in holding a small bundle in her hand.

“Congratulations grandma and grandpa, it’s a little girl” And the nurse smiled brightly at them.

Thursday, December 06, 2007

The language of silence..

It's so damn easy to just keep talking and talking and talking AND TALKING. There are the listeners and then there are the yappers. Both kind, are dangerous and unstable. The listeners may listen with interest or pretend to listen, the yappers are cool people WHEN they make sense, if not its sheer torture.

I had to attend a lecture today, actually i have to attend this lecture EVERYDAY until the 17th of December. It's a soft skill course, where we're given credits. Today was class five for me out of 15 classes. The lady was painful to say the very least, i dozed off and even snored a little until i felt my friend's finger jab my ribcage requesting me to shut my gob and snore softly. So yes, it goes without saying I'm a pathetic listener. Leaving boring lectures aside, I space out when friends talk as well. I'm like Joey, i just nod along and laugh if everyone else is doing it, or i frown and look pissed off IF everyone else is doing it.

My friends on the other hand are darn good listeners, they're more mind readers and face readers than listeners. Just a slight facial expression is enough for them to shoot out ; "Alright lady, what did you do this time? Spit it out you idiot" And of course i spill my guts out for a very verrrryyy looo-hooong time.

I'm not a whine, but if given the opportunity, i could whine on and on and on and make even the happiest person around me gloomy. And if I'm happy i could go on and on about that too and make the saddest person around me slightly happier.

I personally don't think I talk a lot, but people who know me claim i don't know the meaning of the word silence. If that is indeed the case, i hope I'm an interesting yapper and not the boring kind.

Language of Silence. Profound indeed. But what the hell is it exactly? *scratches head*

Saturday, December 01, 2007

The hairy stink bomb..

I had to do 30 hours of community service in the first year of college. So the gang and i, went to this old age home in Porur, called Little Drops. Getting there was a task in itself. We met at college, took 2 buses to reach Porur, walked from the Porur bus-stand for 15 - 20 minutes to this godforsaken location. Once we reached there, all calm prevailed; we'd drink loads of water, freshen up and get busy with the old folks. Cutting their nails, feeding them, talking to them, making merry etc. Old folks are fun to be around.

At the end of the day, we'd bid adieu and head back home, back to this treacherous journey of 2 buses. By the time I reached home, I'd be so pooped, someone would have to bathe and feed me. And I'd recall the day's events in my head, and thank the good Lord, for giving me such a comfortable life. Eating on these days was out of the question, because all through the day my nose would be subject to the most horrible smells, and to get those bad smells out of my system took another 24 hours.

Today, i had a similar experience. Not at an old age home, at gym. A 15 minute run on the threadmill later, i was panting, puffing and breathing in huge gulps of air, when suddenly i smelt something, something worse than rotten tomatoes and rotten eggs combined. It was nauseating. I turned to look at the direction of the smell. He was big hairy and wearing too little clothes. Apparently he was quite proud of his disproportioned eye sore flabby body. I applaud the man for that, because if I was him, I'd be caught dead in that outfit in the loo, let alone a public place with civilized human beings around.

I looked at him once more, pleading silently with my eyes "go away, walk on another treadmill" and i gripped my towel tightly around my nose to emphasize this non verbal plea. But he mistook my plea, he conjured it up as non verbal flirting instead and gave me a huge toothy grin. I felt like a soldier fighting for her survival. I kept chanting in my mind "I cannot die, today, not here, not like this. I have too many responsibilities on my shoulder." And i took few deep gulps of air, (quite similar to what deep sea divers would do, before taking a plunge) and kept walking. Next, I tried breathing through my mouth, instead of my nose.

And lo and behold, there are moments in my life, when I truly realize the meaning of the words "Divine Superpower and Lord Almighty", the man thing fell off his threadmill, moaned for 5 seconds like a sleepy hippopotamus, clutched his sad excuse of a bum and walked away. Fresh air, never smelt so much better. *gasps*