Just Saw the film "Atonement" this afternoon. Thoroughly loved it. What I am wondering right now is what is it about a war that makes it a perfect background for love. "Live your life like it's your last day on earth", is that it? The urgency? , the impending separation?, the continuing separation?, the possible end of separation ? I do not know, perhaps one or all of those. As much as I love romantic comedies, candy floss movies, I have noticed that many of the ones which Touch you somewhere deep down are often related to a war- Troy ( Hector, Achilles, Briseis, I am hooked whenever it's on air), Casablanca , The Reader, Atonement, add to the list. I am sure you can.
When Robbie in "Atonement" is sent to war, and the story shifts it's focus from a drama-love story to one that depicts the perils of the soldiers awaiting evacuation, then the scenes at the hospital featuring the wounded soldiers, made me wonder, was the War a gimmick? Why use the war ? It could have been a touching love story without the War? but then could it? perhaps not. The complete senselessness of it, the absurdity of the lives lost, the sub-human conditions that humanity tolerates, conditions that sends a shiver down our spines when we imagine it. It has a thrill, a sadistic thrill.
About to go off topic now ....
The number of films made about the Second World War perhaps is the greatest. There is a thrill about the holocaust. Humanity is outraged, humanity is violated , we watch the films on that pretext but isn't there an element, a tiny element of thrill? A perverse thrill involved when we even think of a gas chamber? don't we wonder "how was it moments before you know you are going to be gassed or incinerated alive?" , " could I have tolerated such living conditions?" Don't know about others but I surely find myself thinking on these lines.. The improbability of those circumstances now, the remoteness of it from the world where I'm watching a "Schindler's List" on TV , snug in my bedroom-protects me and enables me to think about the events.... to analyze... In that thinking isn't there something perverse? I think perhaps there is.
Loved ALL the films though : Schindler's List, The Pianist and last but not the least "The Reader" (The scene where Ralph walks through the empty concentration camp through rows and rows of shoes makes one shiver more than many thrilling scenes and high blown rhetoric)
Mostly divine. At times Bovine.
Monday, 17 January 2011
Sunday, 16 January 2011
Not Worth It.
Caution: It's my list. It's my list. It's my list.
You Don't Agree- Great! The Door Is That Way.
Books that are, as the title says, NOT worth it. (according to me)
1. Alchemist : So much hype , that when i got hold of the book I thought I had found the Kohinoor. It was gripping in the beginning. All along an anticipation of something great that was going to happen and then in the end the guy stands on a hill and talks to the elements. Well, I am not that elemental.
By the end of it, I could have jumped into a lighted fire. The whole experience was like being told that I was going to meet SRK and then I am gifted a portrait of Tapas Paul. Sorry, the book didn't change my life. Not one bit. It did not lead to self discovery. You think, look in the mirror if you want to discover more about yourself, you do not. DO NOT read about sheep, deserts,and a mysterious man on a horse.
2. The Da Vinci Code: Sidney Sheldon getting a copy of some really controversial arguments, a handbook of secret societies could have created a Langdon. Hating the book and then being forced to watch a favourite actor play a character of the book was doubly painful. Next time Lang-please-don't.
3. Coolie: Read it as a part of my syllabus in my undergraduate years. It was solely responsible for my apathy for that particular paper for the entire year. Mr. Anand clearly had no "anand" in his life. He forgot this was not literary social commentary but literature. Pathetic.You feel bad at times for the character during some poignant episodes. Rest of the time I felt bad for the author.
4. Chandrashekhar: I was never a Bankim Chandra fan but still I read Kopalkundola and Debi Choudhuraani with interest. While Kopalkundola was thrilling, somehow I found the author totally superficial in every sense. No one can take away from him his very deserved accolades for being the writer who gave the bengali novel a new direction , but somehow I feel in terms of views, perspective, he lacked that vision which marks a great artist.
A mastery over language: yes - oh yes ! A superlative hold on tight-knit structure: yes. BUT content: sadly I was far from impressed. Chandrashekhar was the final nail in the coffin, it was regressive and totally sensational. The Shakespeare quotes , which he used in his novels display the most superficial sense of Shakespeare's lines.
If you say , you did not like Bankim Chandra, the first conclusion drawn is that you did not understand the language. So it was very heartening to find that Sunil Gangopadhyay , an author whose works I love ( the little that I have read) had written an essay on Bankim Chandra saying how he rediscovered their flaws much later in life. I was encouraged. Hence this entry !
5. Sherlock Holmes: I like idle , intelligent beings. Poirot fits the bill. Holmes ran around, fought,did what not while Poirot only thought. That's sexy, That's style, That's class.
Done!
Tata.
You Don't Agree- Great! The Door Is That Way.
Books that are, as the title says, NOT worth it. (according to me)
1. Alchemist : So much hype , that when i got hold of the book I thought I had found the Kohinoor. It was gripping in the beginning. All along an anticipation of something great that was going to happen and then in the end the guy stands on a hill and talks to the elements. Well, I am not that elemental.
By the end of it, I could have jumped into a lighted fire. The whole experience was like being told that I was going to meet SRK and then I am gifted a portrait of Tapas Paul. Sorry, the book didn't change my life. Not one bit. It did not lead to self discovery. You think, look in the mirror if you want to discover more about yourself, you do not. DO NOT read about sheep, deserts,and a mysterious man on a horse.
2. The Da Vinci Code: Sidney Sheldon getting a copy of some really controversial arguments, a handbook of secret societies could have created a Langdon. Hating the book and then being forced to watch a favourite actor play a character of the book was doubly painful. Next time Lang-please-don't.
3. Coolie: Read it as a part of my syllabus in my undergraduate years. It was solely responsible for my apathy for that particular paper for the entire year. Mr. Anand clearly had no "anand" in his life. He forgot this was not literary social commentary but literature. Pathetic.You feel bad at times for the character during some poignant episodes. Rest of the time I felt bad for the author.
4. Chandrashekhar: I was never a Bankim Chandra fan but still I read Kopalkundola and Debi Choudhuraani with interest. While Kopalkundola was thrilling, somehow I found the author totally superficial in every sense. No one can take away from him his very deserved accolades for being the writer who gave the bengali novel a new direction , but somehow I feel in terms of views, perspective, he lacked that vision which marks a great artist.
A mastery over language: yes - oh yes ! A superlative hold on tight-knit structure: yes. BUT content: sadly I was far from impressed. Chandrashekhar was the final nail in the coffin, it was regressive and totally sensational. The Shakespeare quotes , which he used in his novels display the most superficial sense of Shakespeare's lines.
If you say , you did not like Bankim Chandra, the first conclusion drawn is that you did not understand the language. So it was very heartening to find that Sunil Gangopadhyay , an author whose works I love ( the little that I have read) had written an essay on Bankim Chandra saying how he rediscovered their flaws much later in life. I was encouraged. Hence this entry !
5. Sherlock Holmes: I like idle , intelligent beings. Poirot fits the bill. Holmes ran around, fought,did what not while Poirot only thought. That's sexy, That's style, That's class.
Done!
Tata.
Friday, 14 January 2011
What They Actually Mean....
I am honestly praying that my teachers stay miles away from this post !
also note: this is only with reference to Literature teachers. S stands for "said" and M for "meant"
S: " This author has produced some revolutionary, extraordinary works........."
M: " Vague words are the best that I can offer now..."
S: " What is your opinion about the text? Tell me what you all think?"
M: I woke up late, I am unprepared.I need you to to give me the cue.
S: "Internet is not a good source of information"
M: Internet is my only source of information. I don't want you to find out.
S: " Don't write what I am saying. It's all there in book X"
M: As it is you can see I am dictating, why embarrass the shit out of me.
S: " Every teacher must take the register"
M: If I did not, at least my class would have been empty.
Cheers !
also note: this is only with reference to Literature teachers. S stands for "said" and M for "meant"
S: " This author has produced some revolutionary, extraordinary works........."
M: " Vague words are the best that I can offer now..."
S: " What is your opinion about the text? Tell me what you all think?"
M: I woke up late, I am unprepared.I need you to to give me the cue.
S: "Internet is not a good source of information"
M: Internet is my only source of information. I don't want you to find out.
S: " Don't write what I am saying. It's all there in book X"
M: As it is you can see I am dictating, why embarrass the shit out of me.
S: " Every teacher must take the register"
M: If I did not, at least my class would have been empty.
Cheers !
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Feeling Cruel ...Let's Murder Some Lines ....:D
Sing them aloud for the best effect..yes I have tried it.
Note: This post is not for those, who enjoy being morose.
"Down the bay, Where the nights are gay, And the sun shines daily on the mountain tops"
The donkeys bray, men lose their way, And loudly sing bhajans in liquor shops.
"I am sixteen , going on seventeen, innocent as a rose"
Cocktails and candies, drinkers of brandies, I have had a taste of those.
"Shara jobon dilo aalo shurjo groho chaand"
Nibhiye dilem alo ebar how how kore kaand
"ei poth jodi na shesh hoy, tobe kyamon hoto tumi bolo toh"
tyre puncture hole besh hoy, heshe boltam ami "ebar holo toh?"
"It's only words, and words are all I have to take your heart away"
It's the o-n-l-yyy truth, I am a sad impotent brute, and I can only bray.
"Tujhe dekha toh ye jana sanamm pyar hota hain deewana sanaam, ab yahan se kahan jaye hum? teri baahon mein mar jaye hummmm"
Chashma zaara dena sanam, dikhai zara deta hain kum, ...........haaan ab thik se dekh sakte hain hum, yeh kya ! aaapko pehchaane nahi hummmmm.
"Yeh dosti Hum nahi todenge, todenge e e dum magar, tera saath na chodhenge"
Yeh dosti, hum nahiii todengee, Tu itna kaamaata hain.. pagal hain kya , jo tujhe chodhenge???
"hridoy amar nache re aaajike moyurero moto naache re..."
Ki hoy je taar, ke jane re, majhe majhe sheyaaal er moto daake re....
These are all my favourite songs..I love them with all my heart..so take a chill pill if you suddenly feel like murdering me : )
Note: This post is not for those, who enjoy being morose.
"Down the bay, Where the nights are gay, And the sun shines daily on the mountain tops"
The donkeys bray, men lose their way, And loudly sing bhajans in liquor shops.
"I am sixteen , going on seventeen, innocent as a rose"
Cocktails and candies, drinkers of brandies, I have had a taste of those.
"Shara jobon dilo aalo shurjo groho chaand"
Nibhiye dilem alo ebar how how kore kaand
"ei poth jodi na shesh hoy, tobe kyamon hoto tumi bolo toh"
tyre puncture hole besh hoy, heshe boltam ami "ebar holo toh?"
"It's only words, and words are all I have to take your heart away"
It's the o-n-l-yyy truth, I am a sad impotent brute, and I can only bray.
"Tujhe dekha toh ye jana sanamm pyar hota hain deewana sanaam, ab yahan se kahan jaye hum? teri baahon mein mar jaye hummmm"
Chashma zaara dena sanam, dikhai zara deta hain kum, ...........haaan ab thik se dekh sakte hain hum, yeh kya ! aaapko pehchaane nahi hummmmm.
"Yeh dosti Hum nahi todenge, todenge e e dum magar, tera saath na chodhenge"
Yeh dosti, hum nahiii todengee, Tu itna kaamaata hain.. pagal hain kya , jo tujhe chodhenge???
"hridoy amar nache re aaajike moyurero moto naache re..."
Ki hoy je taar, ke jane re, majhe majhe sheyaaal er moto daake re....
These are all my favourite songs..I love them with all my heart..so take a chill pill if you suddenly feel like murdering me : )
Wednesday, 12 January 2011
Take It Easy.
A pin-prick and you cry
No matter how hard you try.
You want to hold them back
But once again you crack
It Ain't That Easy.
You want to say a no.
Find a faraway place to go.
The very moment you want to impress
You sadly make a royal mess.
It Ain't That Easy.
You want admiration from all.
You end up inviting some putrefied gall.
You want your actions to speak.
Yet when the spotlight is on,it's the corner you seek.
It Ain't That Easy.
You wish a moment to linger.
Then sweetly God shows you the middle finger.
You dream about some specific goal with conviction.
Then watch it turn into something as strange as science fiction.
It Ain't That Easy.
It Ain't That Easy to live.
It Ain't That Easy to give.
But there comes one such time.
When life becomes a nursery Rhyme.
It's a fancy merry-go-round.
You join in making no sound.
It becomes easy to play.
It becomes easy to stay.
It becomes easy to jive.
It becomes easy-just to survive.
No matter how hard you try.
You want to hold them back
But once again you crack
It Ain't That Easy.
You want to say a no.
Find a faraway place to go.
The very moment you want to impress
You sadly make a royal mess.
It Ain't That Easy.
You want admiration from all.
You end up inviting some putrefied gall.
You want your actions to speak.
Yet when the spotlight is on,it's the corner you seek.
It Ain't That Easy.
You wish a moment to linger.
Then sweetly God shows you the middle finger.
You dream about some specific goal with conviction.
Then watch it turn into something as strange as science fiction.
It Ain't That Easy.
It Ain't That Easy to live.
It Ain't That Easy to give.
But there comes one such time.
When life becomes a nursery Rhyme.
It's a fancy merry-go-round.
You join in making no sound.
It becomes easy to play.
It becomes easy to stay.
It becomes easy to jive.
It becomes easy-just to survive.
Sunday, 9 January 2011
TEA TWO THOUGHTS ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON
While the world (read parents) is out on a picnic , I am left blissfully alone enjoying a lovely warm Sunday. There is something about being alone on a Sunday that is absolutely heavenly ...... okay here are the 3 top reasons !
1.No one to ask me a thousand times what I would like to eat while I'm trying to concentrate on a book/newspaper/silly TV show. (what's a Sunday without one silly article in the newspaper? sample Shobhaa De draws a parallel between an out-of-order lift and the condition of India-----nice "original" comparison but a whole article on that ! Just one humble question-- is she paid for writing that stuff ? )
2.No one to yell the time at me with an implicit intention of inducing guilt pangs. Seriously the devices are great at times , I mean you don't technically ask a person to wake up but when you can SEE the person enjoying a nap you just yell "it's 12 o'clock" .......eloquence of the unspoken words did you say !
3.No one to remind me that every spot of my room needs cleaning, while I am thinking about the politics in bengal- my non-existent career- Koffee with Karan- punching Biman Bose right across the face- holding Mamata Bannerjee hostage in a jam stuck street for 5 hours without water and food and mike (if I give the last she might not miss the previous two)..... and other grave matters.
I begun this new year with a great new change. We switched to TOI from The Telegraph. I was very glad about bidding adieu to t2... for various reasons... firstly it has become the paid advertisement forum of Sabyasachi Mukherjee and Rituparna ..
At least once every month I have to see a 6 page detailed analysis of clothes which some villagers wear in deserts and which are oh-so-unwearable and resembles my carpet , or I have to see at least a dozen pictures of some bleak, dark, room which has trunks, haariken and broken bulbs and then I will learn it's a "store", which sells designer outfits. (shoot me !)
On some other days I have too see the holiday pics of some Bengali actresses in Thailand , and I wonder seeing their beach wardrobes if its Thailand or "Thigh-land". If not this, Miss.Rituparna will scare the hell out of me with her untamed mane of hair and blood red lips, her style statement is unique .... purple dress-red lips, black dress-red lips, red dress-red lips, yellow dress-red lips and so on.
Then at least once a week t2 journalists have a round table conference to decide which issue of the playboy magazine they will ape now. Finally their editor gives a nod and there is a whole feast of limbs, arms, and what-not on display. Clothes are so fragmented and body parts are so diversely displayed, its very postmodern.
The cherry on the cake: recently they got crazy about Polo , not the mint with the hole, but the game played on horses. (spare me the horror !) and then HOLD YOUR BREATH... they want first class graduates as journalists for t2. Sure ... those innocent young beings spent 3 years of their lives reading about Chaucer, Browning, Osborne etc so that they can write a 200 word article about Shilpa Shetty's cleavage.
Ok so now if you have an iota of intelligence , you must have noted with how much diligence I have read every issue, even though I have been blasting missiles at it. Well t2 was the fodder of many soulful conversations with my friends. The hours just whizzed by as we discussed it...
And I did have the option of just not reading it... well I admit at times reading t2 is de-stressing and seems far more "real" than the world of CWG, Maoists and 2G...sadly the latter world seems a part of a fiction that we are forced to live through..any serious thoughts end in despair so why not t2?
t2 and CT are to us what "Disneyland" meant to Baudrillard.... a joyride that makes us think what we live through is real , important and significant....concealing the fact that what we endure everyday is not as vulgar, not as pointless, as t2...........
Now that I have TOI basking in the sunshine on my terrace every morning and not Telegraph, I realize the fragmented visions of limbs are still very much a part of my life thanks to CT. ( LOUD SOBS)
at least it has a lesser number of pages.
Ta Ta...Lunch beckons !
1.No one to ask me a thousand times what I would like to eat while I'm trying to concentrate on a book/newspaper/silly TV show. (what's a Sunday without one silly article in the newspaper? sample Shobhaa De draws a parallel between an out-of-order lift and the condition of India-----nice "original" comparison but a whole article on that ! Just one humble question-- is she paid for writing that stuff ? )
2.No one to yell the time at me with an implicit intention of inducing guilt pangs. Seriously the devices are great at times , I mean you don't technically ask a person to wake up but when you can SEE the person enjoying a nap you just yell "it's 12 o'clock" .......eloquence of the unspoken words did you say !
3.No one to remind me that every spot of my room needs cleaning, while I am thinking about the politics in bengal- my non-existent career- Koffee with Karan- punching Biman Bose right across the face- holding Mamata Bannerjee hostage in a jam stuck street for 5 hours without water and food and mike (if I give the last she might not miss the previous two)..... and other grave matters.
I begun this new year with a great new change. We switched to TOI from The Telegraph. I was very glad about bidding adieu to t2... for various reasons... firstly it has become the paid advertisement forum of Sabyasachi Mukherjee and Rituparna ..
At least once every month I have to see a 6 page detailed analysis of clothes which some villagers wear in deserts and which are oh-so-unwearable and resembles my carpet , or I have to see at least a dozen pictures of some bleak, dark, room which has trunks, haariken and broken bulbs and then I will learn it's a "store", which sells designer outfits. (shoot me !)
On some other days I have too see the holiday pics of some Bengali actresses in Thailand , and I wonder seeing their beach wardrobes if its Thailand or "Thigh-land". If not this, Miss.Rituparna will scare the hell out of me with her untamed mane of hair and blood red lips, her style statement is unique .... purple dress-red lips, black dress-red lips, red dress-red lips, yellow dress-red lips and so on.
Then at least once a week t2 journalists have a round table conference to decide which issue of the playboy magazine they will ape now. Finally their editor gives a nod and there is a whole feast of limbs, arms, and what-not on display. Clothes are so fragmented and body parts are so diversely displayed, its very postmodern.
The cherry on the cake: recently they got crazy about Polo , not the mint with the hole, but the game played on horses. (spare me the horror !) and then HOLD YOUR BREATH... they want first class graduates as journalists for t2. Sure ... those innocent young beings spent 3 years of their lives reading about Chaucer, Browning, Osborne etc so that they can write a 200 word article about Shilpa Shetty's cleavage.
Ok so now if you have an iota of intelligence , you must have noted with how much diligence I have read every issue, even though I have been blasting missiles at it. Well t2 was the fodder of many soulful conversations with my friends. The hours just whizzed by as we discussed it...
And I did have the option of just not reading it... well I admit at times reading t2 is de-stressing and seems far more "real" than the world of CWG, Maoists and 2G...sadly the latter world seems a part of a fiction that we are forced to live through..any serious thoughts end in despair so why not t2?
t2 and CT are to us what "Disneyland" meant to Baudrillard.... a joyride that makes us think what we live through is real , important and significant....concealing the fact that what we endure everyday is not as vulgar, not as pointless, as t2...........
Now that I have TOI basking in the sunshine on my terrace every morning and not Telegraph, I realize the fragmented visions of limbs are still very much a part of my life thanks to CT. ( LOUD SOBS)
at least it has a lesser number of pages.
Ta Ta...Lunch beckons !
Friday, 7 January 2011
OF H A P P Y STUFF............
This is really the first time so many wonderful adjectives have been used about me....I am downright flattered so excuse me for flaunting it ! :D
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