"Boy Erased": After-thoughts

-Aditya Joshi
#BoyErased

The time couldn't have been more right. Today, India celebrates Children's day. And today, I watched this masterpiece of a movie 'Boy erased'. In one sentence, the film is about a gay boy whose Christian preacher father sends him to a conversion therapy centre. The film takes you through 'techniques' at the centre, from shaming to violence, each making you cringe more than the previous. "Fake it till you make it", the teacher at the centre says.

What works about the movie, on the contrary, is that one moment when the fierce mother drives the son out of the centre screaming "Shame on you!" to the teacher. That one line lifts the spirit of the film, turns the mood of the film on its head. When the mother stands up for her son, the viewer heaves a sigh of relief. When a mother tells her gay son that she will shield him from everyone including her husband, you know that everything is going to be alright for the son.

'Boy erased' is a film for parents, to see for themselves, how much their support can turn around the lives of their children. 'Boy erased' is a film for straight family members, to stand up against systematic breaking down of a gay person s self-esteem. When the lesbian girl 'confesses' her sins in the conversion therapy course, you can see her self-esteem shatter to pieces.

Conversion therapies such as these are advertised rampantly in Indian ashrams as well. Boys and girls are trained to stop being gay, to think worse of themselves. An Indian parent who performs hundred background checks on his daughter's prospective groom, tells his son confidently, "Just get married. Once you have a wife, you will be alright!"

We don't need conversion therapy centres. The society does enough to infuse shame within us the gay men. There are those few occasions when the most out among us stay quiet about being gay. And there are those gay men among us who say proudly that they are 'straight-acting'. That's when you know that the societal conversion therapy has worked.

For once, one prays that parents take the steering of their families in their own hands, like the boy's mother in this film who drives her son out of the place. Parents wield the power to empower their boys.

Because when a boy is erased, so is his parent.

-Aditya Joshi

"Bhaiya"

(All names in this post have been changed.)

Source: http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/asaram-rape-victim-shouldve-pleaded-for-mercy/article4283466.ece

According to an article that I read some time ago, a famous celebrity tried to (sadly) put the blame on an assault victim by saying:

Dono ko bolti “Bhaiya! Main abla hoon. Tum mere bhai ho. Dharam ke bhai ho. Bhagwan ka naam lekar haath pakadti, pair pakadti.. itna durachar nahi hota. Galti ek taraf se nahi hoti.” (She should've said, "Brother! I am powerless. You are my brother. Brother by religion." In the name of god, she should've held his hand, touched his feet.... this wouldn't have happened. A mistake is never one-sided) 

"And then Manoj bhaiya held my hand and said, 'Be an adult. Haven't you ever been touched?' I shivered as he tried to explain that what he was doing was right, as I kept quiet constantly remembering that Manoj bhaiya was married already", she had said.

Sushmit closed his eyes tightly shut as he narrated this incident to me. I wiped a long stream of tear running down his cheek, rather meekly.

I had told Sushmit many times that he was like a brother to me. But now, I was unsure. Was I sure that I would conduct myself with dignity around him? Silence ran through my ears. The word 'bhaiya' echoed within me.

When I hear that Manoj attempted to get close to her several times that night, I can hear my faith shatter to pieces. Faith in relationships of every sort. Between a man and a woman that she and Manoj shared - she had agreed to perform at the concert only because her "bhaiya", Manoj "bhaiya" had convinced her to do so. Between a man and a man that Sushmit and I shared - I had always looked at Sushmit as a brother but what the hell - if Manoj could do it to her, there was no other reason that I couldn't have misbehaved with even Sushmit whom I hold in such high regard. Between her and Sushmit - although she had confided in Sushmit this time, how could I be sure that Sushmit wouldn't do anything wrong with her in another incident in the future?

*

I did not deserve it. I did not deserve to hold the distrust towards men around me. She did not deserve it. She did not deserve to be assaulted by a man who she called her "bhaiya" but who, on a lonely night, tried to take advantage of her. He spat in the face of the word "bhaiya" and everything that it stands for, in the context of the culture we all are a part of. He redefined and in a great way, messed up what being a brother to someone means to me and to her.

It's now my responsibility as a brother to her and Sushmit's responsibility as a brother to me and her to prove it to every one of us that not all of us are like Manoj "bhaiya". Some of us do understand what immense responsibility the word "bhaiya" comes with. I wish I can somehow convince her that some people do take the word 'bhaiya' the way it should be.

And I wish I can somehow convince myself just that, in any way possible.

Bicheno

The sun was about to set. I stepped out of the fancy yet inexpensive backpacking hostel in Bicheno. Bicheno - yes. do you know where that is? I did not know - and frankly, I wouldn't be able to locate it on the map.

A small village/town in Tasmania, the island to the south of Australia - that's Bicheno. I walked around the village - from end to end in a matter of thirty minutes. And I thought to myself - WHERE was I?!  Born in Dombivli, thousands of miles away, I was here today exploring this village. You feel so utterly small when you realize the distance you have covered to be physically present where you are.

In that respect, the Hobart trip with Jump Tours were truly truly memorable. I will always remember those days fondly.

Pages of the Mahabharat: Drishtadyumna, Draupadi and Ashwatthaama

Note: I have taken creative liberty to distort some facts (which are, interestingly, about the myths.)

He was dressed in a white dhoti carefully tucked near his navel. The sacred thread ran down his left shoulder with the Brahma knot exactly above his dark brown nipple. His chest was moving as he placed the deer on the ground in the ashram.

"Here is the prey I got today, father." he said to his sage father who was deep in meditation.

Sage Drona slowly opened his eyes and looked at his son. He felt proud today for what he had achieved for his son. The gold anklets Ashwathama was wearing were from Drupada's treasure - the same Drupada who had denied helping him years ago. The same Drupada who Drona had ransacked using his disciples and snatched half the kingdom from.

Drona's eyes felt heavy with tears. What had he done wrong, he thought. He just saw his wife mixing flour with water and feeding her son this new form of milk. He just wanted it to be better.

"What happened, father?", Ashwatthama shook his father's arm. The silver hair on Drona's arm perfectly matched the colour of the ash smeared on the loose skin.

**

As the toddler walked out of the yadnya fire, it strutted its way to the king. Without his upper garment, ornaments and his crown, the king looked like a glorified beggar. An asker he was. With a strong wish that he begged to be fulfilled. He picked up the baby and looked into his eyes - "You will avenge my insult", Drupada said into the baby's left ear softly. Either the baby understood it perfectly or not at all. But it let out a giggle and reached for his father's half-grey beard. The sages gathered around the baby to sprinkle holy water on his face.

Several years later, the baby grew up to be an able-bodied warrior, Drishtadyumna. As Sage Drona sat on the battlefield howling over his son's death, the now-warrior baby held the sage by his hair and chopped his head off with the stroke of a sword. This time, blood splattered over the baby's face.

**

As the baby played in the father's arms, a little girl walked out of the fire. Nobody seemed to notice her. Dressed in a white silk sari, she seemed to be comfortable. Her hands lept into the air for the king's attention. The king was too engrossed getting his beard fondled. The girl pulled up the end of her sari over her head and squatted on the floor.

Little did she know that she would grow up to be Draupadi who would in fact be the crucial turning point that would eventually lead to Sage Drona's death.

**

Drupada and Drona were both fathers. Ashwatthama, Draupadi and Dhristadyumna were all children to their fathers. The war of Kurukshetra saw the three of them continuing where their fathers had left off.

Dogs and cats: The farewell dilemma

Tomorrow I leave the city I grew up in. There's this question which repeatedly keeps coming to me. Am I a cat or a dog?

Attachments and loyalty are said to be different in a cat and a dog. A dog loves the people of the house - the way they pet him, the way they play with him. A cat loves the house, the place - her favourite corner, her food bowl.

In these weeks of farewell, I have often wondered if I am a cat or a dog... if I love the places more or if it is just the people that makes the place so close to me.

Will I miss IIT, the place or will it be the people at IIT who made it so awesome?

When I realize that almost all my friends have now left IIT Bombay, the places that
I think, for me, it's the latter. I am a 'dog' among the 'dog-cat' options. And I won't miss Mumbai as much as I would miss the people that made me what it is to me.

'Delhi Belly' : Movie Review

This belly grumbles and farts and makes you go crazy with laughter. This movie essentially has the dark, in-your-face jokes and gags which you surely need to keep your mind 'open' to understand.

So get ready for a smuggler getting a package full of faeces delivered instead of diamonds. A burqa-clad man entering a random house to quickly enter the toilet as the family squirms in their seats hearing him fart inside. Or a neighbour being blackmailed with his pictures with a prostitute - this one leaves no bars!

Imran Khan is not really the only hero of the film - for its story is more like a college one-act play (and yes, the movie has no interval too.). It is the entire cast with its characters and situations that makes this movie a total entertainer. The three friends (Imran Khan, Vir Sanghvi and the third guy) are a riot together! The two ladies have done a very good job. The dialogues are quirky, uncouth and witty most of the times. While the story moves ahead with a steady pace, the 'Chudail' track is a definite dip in the pace of the narrative and hence the impact. At the end of the movie, one gets an incomplete feeling - wanting for more! The climax surely shows promise for a sequel!

All songs are very unique. 'Nakkad-wale disko' is good - but the weakest among the lot. 'Bedardi Raja', 'DK Bose' and 'Switty' are remarkable and will make very good party songs. Aamir Khan makes a very ordinary 'I hate you like I love you' extremely enjoyable to watch.

Overall, the Delhi-set 'Pyaar ka punchnama' was awesome - this one takes up the Delhi setting again and churns out a hilarious entertainer. Bole toh, is season mein dilli hit hai bawa!!

So, look at yourself in the mirror. Are you decent? Are you offended by toilet humour? Are you disgusted with a man being pulled by his tie? Are you embarrassed watching a girl sitting on the lap of a man (the other way round)? If ALL these questions have 'no' for an answer, go watch the movie for sure!

'Ready': Movie Review

Last time I said certain bad things about Salman Khan (which was about his show 'Dus ka Dum' where he got his pronunciations totally messed up. On purpose perhaps), I was harrowed by hate messages - so I better watch out this time.

Talking about 'Ready', I must say that it did NOT live up to my expectations. I expected it to be a 'rofl'worthy movie - it was not.

The movie has its fun elements where I did go laughing myself off. Only wish there had been more such gags in the movie.

Salman Khan steals the show with his histrionics. He dances, fights, laughs in his own inimitable style! He is THE reason to watch the movie for. Asin looks good and plays her part well. When you see her, you exactly know why she is different (and positively so) from the Kareenas and Katrinas. Paresh Rawal, Mahesh Manjrekar and Manoj Pahwa provide an able support.

The songs are hilarious and very well picturized. I LOVE 'Dhinka Chika'!

However, the movie is a nearly forced mix-mash of action, family drama, romance and comedy. But the elements do not really mix with each other well - a lot of things look forcefully put. The whole preachy family drama at the end is nothing more than shallow. There are also many glitches in the screenplay which adversely affect the impact of the movie.

Overall, the movie is surely very good and entertaining but surely could have been much better! It is not as good as 'No entry' or 'Dabangg' for sure!

Without you... *Recommended*

Disclaimer: Mostly imaginary.

I wrote your name in the sand with my toe. Just the way you had written it years ago on another beach.

Back then, it was your name with mine.

I heard the song playing on my phone faintly through the sound of the tide. The song you had sung for me once - looking into my eyes and filling me with the love of the world. Or perhaps a world of love.

"It's going to hurt. And it's going to hurt like hell." I exactly knew what Ranjita meant when she had said that. My trust on you had become equivalent to my trust on the fact that love exists in the world. And today I felt like my soul had been squeezed out of my body through my heart.

I cannot describe what I was feeling at that moment. Because like the hues of the sky, there were so many emotions at the same time. I was choking under the weight of the anger, the fear, the sorrow, the joy, the relief (well, yes), the desperation, the hope and the utter darkness that seemed to have blinded me for over twenty days. Ever since the door was banged shut on my face.

I saw the reflection of the sun on the wet beach. It looked like the sun was right there- like a fish out of water, wriggling its last moments away on the sand.

I looked above the horizon and the sun was still there. In all its glory. With all its light.

The reflection of the sun may have gone wet - but the sun knew that there was more to him than the reflection. The sun was bright. The sun was as powerful.

I walked on, leaving your name behind me on the sand. I heard the waves splash and move back. My feet sank slightly .. perhaps to the shock that your name had been wiped off... but I had no time to wait.

The song on the phone had come to an end. I kept walking.

Revival of the Fittest

As I type this post here, I feel like a dancer who's entering the auditorium after a long time. Dressed in deep blue, she looks at the lights piercing into her eyes. She looks at the stage glowing like a glistering beach. She puts up her left hand and with her right hand, takes a spin.

With the spin, flashes come back to her. Flashes of a spoilt performance. Flashes of a sprained ankle. Flashes of a lover distanced because she had no time for him. She hardly completes one circle around herself and sits down on the stage. The lights on the stage go off. Just one spotlight on her.

**

Then she gets back. Stands on one leg this time with the other leg bent. She throws her hands in the air and closes her eyes. She recollects the euphoria - the thundering applause, the stage vibrating with every footstep of hers as if it were a part of her own body. She remembers her dancing self moving to every lub-dub of the heart that the stage is. The drop of sweat rising from the back of her neck makes way down her spine. She spins twice in succession and covers the entire stage. She is the queen of the stage today. She puts down her hands and throws a glance at the empty chairs.

She is short of breath and opens her mouth slightly. Without her knowledge, the sides of her lips stretch into a smile. A gush of energy fills her again. While she is ruling the stage, she is ruling the auditorium too.

**

You can revive a passion only if you get up even after the lights on the stage have gone off.

**

I get up on this stage too.

'Wild Dining': Restaurant Review

To Nishant, Shobhit and PamPam, my accomplices to this place. What the hell, Shobhit, you ruined my diet plans!

In a lame gully somewhere in Andheri near Oshiwara police station is this place called 'Wild dining'. (Naam shady hai) It's on the top floor of this place called Om Heera Panna Mall. The location is quite out of the way and that works against the place to an extent.

This is a buffet-only place. You pay a cover charge and you eat around. (Mineral water is free. unlimited. Nahaa bhi sakte ho... ) Have been told people spend as many as four hours here.

The place is dimly lit and has leopards, tarzans and monkeys and artificial trees and branches all over. The music plays on in (thankfully) a low volume but suits the mood of the place. The table looks like a typical log cabin table - and thankfully, the tables are set sufficiently apart. Ambience ke liye full marks.

Now, I am one person who ALWAYS visits the loo each time I eat out. And like I tell my friends, it's not that I am eternally dysentrified. I believe that a good/well-maintained washroom is a sign of a good/well-managed restaurant. The washroom here is made up like a forest cabin with "For Lion" written on a sign outside and smelled good. Full marks on that too. (I am talking about the gents washroom here. Didn't really go to the other half which said "For Lioness")

The staff is dressed like forest officers and is almost always attentive - though our starters (which are served at the table) came quite late. No complaints overall.

Coming to the food, there was a good variety of salads here. We had the vegetarian soup (the name of which I do not remember). It was a Chinese soup but the taste was just not right. They have a live pizza/pasta/tacos counter. While all of them were strictly average, we couldn't help but have almost two servings of each. The main course consisted of four vegetarian and a couple of non-vegetarian (chicken/kheema/fish) sabzis and some biryani/fried rice stuff. The main course was fine. The fish tasted good.

The desserts were extremely tempting and I couldn't help but take half a spoon of some of it. (Swear, only half a spoon) (They had pastries, four flavours of ice cream, phirni, souffle and gulabjamuns) The souffle and the gulabjamuns were particularly nice. The ice-cream must've been good too but since they didn't make it (or so I think), you can't really give them the credit for that.

On the downside, there is nothing 'free' to drink apart from the fukat ka paani. And the mocktails and cocktails are quite overpriced.

Meal per head (inclusive of taxes): 430Rs. (This was the cover for a weekday dinner. They also have lunches)

Overall, excellent ambience, good food. Good for the treats where a group of people cannot zero in on the kind of food they want to have. (or for people who want to hog around.)

Dhobi Ghat: Movie review

Dhobi Ghaat

The review is divided into two parts. Part one: My senti take on the movie. Part two: My not-so-senti take on the movie. Take your pick. I'd prefer that you read both. *grins*

Part one:

The movie has an additional title 'Mumbai diaries.' That's what the film is. The storywriter tears off a couple of pages from the diaries of these four characters and hurls them in the air. The pages sway on their way down pushing each other occasionally. But unlike other movies, each of the characters retains his/her own story - the interaction with the others is solely a matter of the diary pages rubbing against one other. As the pages settle on the ground, you know that their stories aren't over but they will perhaps take time to touch each other again.

THIS is what I think the movie is... starts abruptly, ends on an as much abrupt note.

**

Part two:

Move aside puraane-zamaane-ki-grey-streak-of-hair-wali-saasu-maa. Aamir Khan with a grey blot of hair (instead) is here. Nayaa hairstyle hai bhai. (He, obviously, does a super-excellent job.) And he plays a railway engine which keeps smoking throughout the movie. He is joined by a goodlooking actor Pratik Babbar (who calls himself only 'Pratiek'.. and I guess he spells his name in a funny way.) who is effortless. I personally saw several glimpses of Smita Patil from Umbarthaa (A Marathi movie of hers) in him. The firang chick looks extremely good, has a strong accent (and she speaks to a washerman in English with that accent. Too much re.) and does a very good job. The actress playing Yasmin is also very good.

The stories of these characters keep taking twists and turns but the best part of the movie is the way they open, almost like layers. The dialogues are very good - the ones in Hindi as well as English.

And a lot will be said about the camera work by everyone who talks about the movie. While a part of it is essentially arty (with a handycam staggering away), it is also visually enchanting when the camera is not shaking. The background score completely fits the mood of the movie and keeps you hooked despite the slow speed. There are visuals of fisherwomen, local trains, bhelpuri walahs, photographers at gateway, dhobis, Ganpati visarjan - all talking about a different kind of people in Mumbai.

On the downside, the movie is essentially slow. The characters are doing arbit things which may look senseless. Haath mein chappal leke beach pe chalne wala Aamir Khan, doosro ki khidkiyon mein abruptly jhaankne wala camera... can get boring if you are expecting something to constantly happen in the movie. But wait. Something is, always. Just that the director does not mind having punches unrelated to the central story.

Overall, I loved the movie. Did get bored for ten minutes but did not sleep at all. (Rare.)

Two chocolates

"Two chocolates, uncle!"

A hand holding a tattered rupee note appeared from the other side of the counter.

Baniya ji (Baniya: A grocer. In the wake of shopping malls and their patrons, this species may soon join the league of dinosaurs and dodos.) walked out slowly and pulled out the bottle containing small round chocolates. The chocolates were unwrapped and had bright colours. Baniya ji began opening the lid which creaked with every turn. He pulled out two chocolates which looked particularly tiny in his huge hand.

"No! I want the yellow ones."

Baniya ji frowned and dug his hand deeper. He placed one yellow and one blue chocolate on the pale wooden counter.

"One more yellow chocolate, Baniya ji."

"You kids are pampered for choice! We never had chocolates in our times. Take them yourself." Baniya ji almost banged the bottle and went back to the chair where he had been sitting and flipped open the newspaper.

A tiny hand dug deep into the bottle. There was hardly any room but the little boy continued hunting for the chocolate he wanted. He pulled out one. The blue chocolate did not seem to impress him and he went for another chocolate.

Baniya ji did not even notice the boy jumping out of his shop - triumphant to have found two yellow chocolates - just the way he wanted them.

Some things that mean nothing to you could mean the world to someone else. Respect the differences.

You and me

Disclaimer: Not a great post. But some posts have to be published

You sat on the couch leaning against the table. You looked like a hungry kitten. When the food arrived, you pulled out the fork and began eating. It was only after you had eaten a few morsels that you started talking.

You smiled and you talked. You laughed and you joked. You told me about the politics at work, about the plans that you had for the weekend. And for the years to come.

I kept staring at you. I did not touch my plate. Having seen you smile, I had had my dinner.

Mothers #5

Disclaimer: Very Dark. Sorry for that. I start off writing a blogpost without thinking of the way it would go and sometimes, it just turns out this way.


She had taught him English at home because they could not afford an English medium school. She had not eaten for three days when the school teacher told her that her son had copied in the examination. She cried the day he became a doctor and firmly believed that had it happened five years earlier, her dead husband would have not succumbed to an abrupt spell of fever.

She deserved to know. She deserved to know the truth that was so close to him.

The first few lines on a note in his drawer read: "Dear mom.. there is something that I need to tell you. It's not that I am guilty or wrong. It's just that I understand that it will hurt you. And I somehow cannot bring myself to doing that."

He carried her on his shoulder today. He was going to carry the burden of not telling his mother this truth for the rest of his life.


Do you have a secret, a truth that you want to tell your parents too?

Tube of light

Note (for the untrained :P): Blogposts like these don't have one inference or one moral per se. They are meant to be abrupt - because they are meant to make the readers think and make their own interpretations.


I took a step towards the hut. An old wooden plank that barely covered the entrance formed the door. The plank that was hinged at only one place creaked as I pushed it open. I was scared to let go of it. I thought it may fall apart.


An old lady sat on the floor blowing into a long tube to ignite the fire. She looked at me and kept the tube down. The way she wiped her forehead with the back of her palm had something familiar about it.

A tube of light entered the hut from the center of the roof. The cyclone had torn apart her roof at several places.

"He was my son who died in the cyclone", she said handing me what looked like an old photograph. She spoke with a strange accent. But somehow, I could follow it.



I stared in silence as I saw her son. I looked at the tiny mirror hanging on the wall by a peg. I could not believe the resemblance.



I could not see more. I woke up drenched in sweat.

'No one killed Jessica' - Review

Note: Some short stories in the pipeline. Keep reading the blog if you like 'my' kinda stories ;)

'No one killed Jessica' is a movie that grabbed my attention from the day I saw the first look on television. A lady-on-fire (she was smoking. literally :P) Mukherjee was all over the promos with a Vidya Balan occasionally walking around here and there wearing glasses meant for Khali. (Kaun Khali mat poochna.)

Cut to the theatre where I sit day one show two. (An early morning.. sasta wala show. Where the popcorn comes for a 'combo'.. a.k.a. the theatre s trying to make some more money. Did I, btw, hurt the multiplex's ego by calling it a theatre?! :P ) The movie opens with visuals of Delhi which 'Dilli 6' missed. The visuals during the opening credits have Delhi in its different forms - the chaat walaas, the Metro and the President's House.

And opens the first half which is in one word 'captivating'. Director Gupta keeps his tempo of 'Aamir' (which was his first movie) totally alive where drama is mixed with an element of mystery at every instant. As the story unfolds, you have no time to think (and I had no time to eat my popcorn). And while Rani Mukherjee dominated the promos, it is Vidya Balan who outshines her TOTALLY in the first half. In a very 'de-glam' role, Vidya 'acts'. And for my friends who justify Katrina by saying "Katrina cannot act. Vidya cannot dress well.", I'd like to say that the two are ACTORS first. The music complements the proceedings with 'Duaa' being the memorable track.

Rani second half mein bahut footage khaati hai.. second half is more 'Nayak'(Anil Kapoor...?)-esque - full of sting operations and "badal diya system ko"-style portions. Rani does come out very well in the second half though.

The actual murder sequence definitely tops the scenes that are the highlight of the movie. I mean, I knew ki ab Jessica maregi... par fir bhi, I could feel the blood curdling. (Mera.. Jessica ka nahi). The scene with Vikram's sting operation is also remarkable for sure. The climax with the two ladies is very Sanjay-Leela-Bhansali .. and I am talking about his good scenes.

When the song 'Mehfooz har kadam karna aee khudaa' started in 'Aamir', owing to the whole situation in the movie AND the amazing song, I had goosebumps.. there is NO goosebump moment in this one.

Vidya Balan actually exhibits a GRAPH to her character - the changing levels of confidence are expressively shown. Rani Mukherjee comes across as a strong-willed journalist and maintains that THROUGHOUT. This actually adds to the mystery of the character. (Aage ke naam are the character ke naam. I do not know the actors' names...) Vikram is VERY good. There is a criminal ki mummy who has only dialogue in the movie - who is very funny and I guess very real. (Ek maa ko apne bete ki suraksha ke alawa kya chahiye....... Ok! I'll not watch K3G again) The newcomer Myra does what Sonam Kapoor has done in all her movies: Smile around and wear skimpy clothes. (Acting ka kaam pappa ke paas rakha hai Sonam didi ne). The investigating police officer, Jessica's father are very good.


Overall, I am a fan of Director Gupta now! The second half is not half as good as the first half. The movie on the whole is DEFINITELY a good watch!! Please download karke chindi quality ki copy dekhke 'bakwaas movie hai' mat bolo.. Watch it in a theatre. I think it is worth it!

While the Kareenas and Katrinas can show off their jawaanis and whatever, Vidya Balan and Rani Mukherjee show that they are what their profession is called - ACTORS.

When do I remember you, God?

Dear God,

Why do I remember you only when I am hurt..
Only when I sit in the soil with my knees wet.

Why do I remember you only when I cry...
Only when the tears seep through the lips into my mouth..

Dear God,

I sometimes wonder why I remember You only in the times of agony and pain.
Maybe I am just a selfish person who needs You when I am sad.

*

God smiled and said silently, "Yes, you are selfish. With the fragrance of the blood from your knees, you smell the Me within you. With the tears, you taste the Me within you.

Troubles and challenges are my way to telling you that I am.

and I am within you."

Leopard-trap

Vague. And I like it. :D

Tightly locked, the leopard-trap...
Empty, the leopard-trap..
The railings of the trap shiver in the wind...
The memories of the captive that once was, still clear in their mind...


The trap is shut
with the memories trapped tight in it...

The trap wants to be open again...
and let go of the memories.
Even the leopard once trapped wanted to be - let free.

Gulzaarish: The movie review for 'Guzaarish'

The title is 'Gulzaarish' because the lyrics of the songs of this movie are very 'Gulzaar'-ish. I mean... 'Sau gram zindagi' is so from the same line of thought as 'hum ne gilehari ke joothe mutter khaaye hai' (Thats a line from a song in Kaminey btw)

Coming back to the movie.. the movie is strictly ok. There is a plastic doll with the name Aishwarya Rai who wears red lipstick and shows cleavage - slightly too much for a nurse. There is a Hrithik Roshan who does a very good job as the patient. There is a Shernaz Patel who is amazing - and a Aditya (lastname?) who is an apt support. The movie has a sharp Sanjay Bhansali mark for it is visually stunning. It indeed is as beautiful as Devdas, Saawariya and Black. (I rate all three of them at the same level in that department) The visuals excite you, scare you and soothe you - just what is intended of them in each scene.

On the positive side is, of course, Hrithik's marvellous performance though some of his dialogues are not clearly spoken. The dialogues and the story does keep you engaged - though towards the end, they get predictable.

The topic of Euthanaisa that the movie handles somehow did not appeal to me. It so looks like a non-issue to me - and I am only a naive individual, a student who believes that there is a right to die for all of us as much as a right to live.

The best part of the movie is the last scene and the fact that the movie somewhere ends on a happy note. On the flip side, there is not one scene that appealed to me (unlike 'Black' which had some extraordinary sequences in parts)


Overall, I do not think the movie appealed to me as much as it appealed to many of my friends/critics online. It is entertaining - not a masterpiece or something.

So much to write

I am currently playing the role of the campus placement manager at IIT Bombay. There are six of us who co-ordinate a team of about fifty. This post is not very unrelated to this fact.

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So much to speak, so much to write. There's so much that I think I've learnt in the last couple of months that I have enough supply for a year.

However, among other things, there's one thing that I've learnt which stops me from posting the others on the blog right now. And that one thing overrides and in some way explains my changed posting habits...

That one thing is that there is a right time and place for saying things. Even if they are your most genuine thoughts. Right now, the time is not right for me to express.

I don't want to be a volcano that explodes and burns. I want to be a river that emerges from a glacier.. and the glacier is yet melting.

So much to write.. and I will.