its on the concept of dance and the very beauty of our ancestors and
thier traditions:
would like to state my background first:: had watched vanaprastham
movie( its a malyalam movie on life of a kathakali dnacer). and i must
admit it was beautiful. it was hauntignly silent and the dance
performed touched every part of my soul. the more you listen and the
more you stare at the dance the more your body aches to take that
shape. one finds that meanibg or that eternla soul that one keeps
looking in god. this idea of dance where one beocmes one with one's
own wsoul. where the music engulfs the body and one beocmes the unity
with the universe. there is nothing in kathakli , its story and
expression through faces and one needs to master one's body and soul
to get this story right. not everyone can enact it, there has to be
shudhi( purity) of soul. somehow english word would not have got that
feeling right. there is this mythical story that one needs to enact
and the audinece has to feel the pain that protagnists suffer in the
myth.
i would like to recite the story that was enacted in the movie : it is
the story of the love between arjuna and subhadra ( i can see the
differnce in me , i typed arjuna and not arjun, that very conceot
shows the difference in my attitude, dnt wanna dwell into polictical
statements now) . thus there is this kathakali dancer so this dancer
enactes various forms of mahabharatha and one of his acts are based on
arjuna. he is called to performed in front of raja and he performs.
here he is seen by the daughter in law ( subhadhra this was enacted by
suhasini, am guessing you would know her, she is wife of mani
ratnam)of raja who is an avid reader of lietrature and who knows every
script of that act.
about kathakali :now remember this act is done in parts : it has dnace
, it has music, dance , music and script. this script basically is in
the form of dialouges taht need to expressed in the form of dance.
kathakali is predominatly about expressions where the face along with
soft movements of the body. one does nort move much from the place and
every act is heavily based on the expressions and beautiful lyrics
that are sung.
so in this movie : he meets her , here she requests him to read her
work and she keeps a track of his performances. behind all this he has
a wife and a girl child. he keeps peforming and over the time period
his enactment of arjuna becomes an obsession. here the woman asks him
to enact an act which is her interprestation of love between arjuna
and subhadhra . he does performa nd after the act she requests that
just for a day she would like to live the life of taht subhadra who
was in love with that arjuna. she had always dreamt of that character
arjuna whom she had sketched through her act and just for the day she
would like to live like her and feel that deviotion and love.
they conjugate while he is still in his costume of kathakali dancer
and after that he leaves. she comes back one day in between the
performance and she tells him taht abhimanyu ( son of arjuna and
subhadra ) will be born soon . after this she says that she want her
son to be son of her husband and not the kathakali dancer.its her son
and not his son as she had made love to the character and not the
person.after this the dancer refuses to enact arjuna ever again and
only performs the krodha role .
for years she refuses to let the father meet the son , and thus this
kathakail dancer as a last dance does an ode to this woman. he
performs the same act one last time nad this time his own daughter
acts as the subhdra and he acts it and subhadhra comes to watch the
performance. during those days it was an incest for a father to
serenade his own daughther for a performance, but his daughter
understands the plight his father is going through and agrees to do
her first and last performance. he dies after ther performace.
it was so powerful . am so proud of my malyalam lineage. the language
and the usage is so strong and beautiful . i did not understand the
major part of the movie. maybe i was unaware of the mythology and was
trying to sense out the feelings that these characters felt. i so
would like to dnce like them or atlesat read one of these texts and
perform it once. there was some really good shots and some powerful
acting done.
this strong potrayal of woman character, i would have to say woman, as
refusal to give parenthood to a father is something unheard by me,
such powerful expression. the very fact that a married woman dared to
fall in love with a character and she dedicates this devotion of her
through her own way of exoressing love to this mythology character.
she creates her won anchor even when she was fully aware of having a
husband who needed to be made a father. it wa stoo strong. the way she
enjoyed his performance and they way corrected the mstakes in every
script that he enacted. is really good.
this kathakali dancer, who dedicates his life for the continuyance of
dying art : who performs every part of with full dedication : shudhi :
he undersatnds every part and enacts the characters but not acting but
by living them .his love for the fan who undersatnds his devotion is
cultivated in the form of conjugation of dance and sex which results
in abhimanyu who is denied to him. he is entrapped in the fanatsy of
someone else and he keeps living that dream until he slowly starts
loosing his sanity. refusal of his father to acknowledge him as his
son and refusal of his son to acknowldge him as father is a very
strong theme that runs through the movie. his ;last ode to the only
true love other dance was performed by his very own daughter who was
ready to act the part of his lover just to perform his last rites in
the form of dance and give him moksha. she did what was expected of a
son . she performed his last rites.
it was BEAUTIFUL and very POWERFUL.
most of the writing is affected by the solitude i have enforced on
myslef in kerala, its a month in kerala since i have been in kerala
with chachi and i will say, am falling in love with my roots. my state
, my language or my ancestors. my history , my past. thus this concept
of dance and classical music gives me more scope to be near to my
past.
1/1/11
11/21/10
love for colours!
Some movies make you think and some movies you would like to just walk out but there might be some movies , where you wuld like the screen to just freeze and relive that very moemnt again and again! . i feel that when i go for sanjay leela bhasali’s movies. I know people dnt agree on that, but every screen of his movie, every movie image is like a dream sequence of your life.
You would have to see again, think again and dream again to understand that. I might make it look like some phyics fomula here, but that is what his movie does to you.
I would like to just talk about guzaarish : saw it yesterday and yes there were momemnts where i wanted it to freeze. Not to relive that moment. I just could not. I wanted him to relive it. I wanted him to dance for me , for ever and ever and ever. I wanted his body to movie. That was what i wanted hrithik to do. There he was lying down on the bed and here i was waiting for him to get up and be the hero.
There is something about our heores : we always want them to b happy, tragic is not for us. But sanjay leela bhansali loves romantising with tragedies, or ill rephrase it , he likes romanticsing with suffereing. And show it as it is. Not less nor more. He will give it colour and music and the tone which he feels is right.
Blue, green or red was not the colour i would associate with the man lying down there. But there were colours aplashed across the mvoie. And yet it never was out of frame. Eery time he smiled, ther ewas colour , everytime he cried there was music. Every time he felt there was silence. Every sensation had to be alert. The audience wanted to feel atleast for sometime, how life can be simple or so less complicated.
If he could glide and serenade the ballloon , if he could play iwth the candle and if he could dance with a lovely woman i have nver seen on screen before. If all of this was life of some magician , then i would say he lived his life . complete.
Idea of euthansia, was the thread where he wanted people to hold. But i guess the frames were too big for euthansia to hold on. Even he had judegment in his favour, the stpry would have remained the same. Its not about the end . it was just about the journey and it was about every small trick of his,. Which had music to partner and dance to sing it.
If mother mary was the thme and we had ave maria as the backdrop, then ash did justice to her role. I like when woman get simple yet complicated roles. And i love it when they are tough and are fighting the love of their life. I would not say , it is hritik here. It is the idea of love here. It was not about his life but about every life that was connected to it .
It was guzaarish to give up their lives which was stuck with him.
Or maybe guzaarush to relive a life which was stuck in the past and with colours which had faded out.
You would have to see again, think again and dream again to understand that. I might make it look like some phyics fomula here, but that is what his movie does to you.
I would like to just talk about guzaarish : saw it yesterday and yes there were momemnts where i wanted it to freeze. Not to relive that moment. I just could not. I wanted him to relive it. I wanted him to dance for me , for ever and ever and ever. I wanted his body to movie. That was what i wanted hrithik to do. There he was lying down on the bed and here i was waiting for him to get up and be the hero.
There is something about our heores : we always want them to b happy, tragic is not for us. But sanjay leela bhansali loves romantising with tragedies, or ill rephrase it , he likes romanticsing with suffereing. And show it as it is. Not less nor more. He will give it colour and music and the tone which he feels is right.
Blue, green or red was not the colour i would associate with the man lying down there. But there were colours aplashed across the mvoie. And yet it never was out of frame. Eery time he smiled, ther ewas colour , everytime he cried there was music. Every time he felt there was silence. Every sensation had to be alert. The audience wanted to feel atleast for sometime, how life can be simple or so less complicated.
If he could glide and serenade the ballloon , if he could play iwth the candle and if he could dance with a lovely woman i have nver seen on screen before. If all of this was life of some magician , then i would say he lived his life . complete.
Idea of euthansia, was the thread where he wanted people to hold. But i guess the frames were too big for euthansia to hold on. Even he had judegment in his favour, the stpry would have remained the same. Its not about the end . it was just about the journey and it was about every small trick of his,. Which had music to partner and dance to sing it.
If mother mary was the thme and we had ave maria as the backdrop, then ash did justice to her role. I like when woman get simple yet complicated roles. And i love it when they are tough and are fighting the love of their life. I would not say , it is hritik here. It is the idea of love here. It was not about his life but about every life that was connected to it .
It was guzaarish to give up their lives which was stuck with him.
Or maybe guzaarush to relive a life which was stuck in the past and with colours which had faded out.
6/19/10
visit to my favourite dentist
I have always hated going to the dentist, maybe he was always rude to me or maybe just made me realize how bad teeth I had, but this new dentist is different. Not because he has been sweet to him or he has given me permission to try out any sort of sweets. He does one thing very well, he talks! And very few people make sense when they talk , well call him an exception in this field.
My first surprise came in the pack of Sigmund Freud, I was trying to grapple the concept of his interpretation of dreams and I personally knew that I was doing a very bad job of it, so I took along that book to my dentist place (yes, I do carry books everywhere possible where I might get even 5 mins to read!). The only thing he said after looking at the book was that I should not read such books cos its one of the reasons for my wisdom tooth getting formed so crooked. I knew my dentist was trying his level best to calm my nerves so this joke was somehow entertained. But the shock came when he applied that concepts of dreams in the field of dentistry and started talking about lack of literature in dentistry. All this time I had cotton in my mouth and his left hand in my mouth and he kept on talking and the only sound I could make as a sign of approval was a moan.
This educational tour was not being stopped here and it continued during my next visits. this time the discussion spilled over to movies and well I guess he was waiting for a patient to discuss cinematography of the movie Godfather (I wanted to seek apology from him as I was not a fan of godfather and I only watched it cos one of my friends believed that my life would not have been complete if I had not watched that movie) so we discussed international movies and then he went about mafia in Italy.. All this discussion with his hands busy and my brain being throbbed with noise of the various instruments used in my mouth. Yet I remembered each and every thing he said or discussed …
Its funny , but now I look forward to going there , not for my check ups , but listen to his discussions , more so his monologues .. These are the places that somehow we do not expect to find knowledge and here I was finding the best of all by treating myself as a patient. The way one can derive knowledge, there is no limit ….
In the words of my dentist, there is no limit …
All you need is a good listener, and someone who loves listening to stories ;)
My first surprise came in the pack of Sigmund Freud, I was trying to grapple the concept of his interpretation of dreams and I personally knew that I was doing a very bad job of it, so I took along that book to my dentist place (yes, I do carry books everywhere possible where I might get even 5 mins to read!). The only thing he said after looking at the book was that I should not read such books cos its one of the reasons for my wisdom tooth getting formed so crooked. I knew my dentist was trying his level best to calm my nerves so this joke was somehow entertained. But the shock came when he applied that concepts of dreams in the field of dentistry and started talking about lack of literature in dentistry. All this time I had cotton in my mouth and his left hand in my mouth and he kept on talking and the only sound I could make as a sign of approval was a moan.
This educational tour was not being stopped here and it continued during my next visits. this time the discussion spilled over to movies and well I guess he was waiting for a patient to discuss cinematography of the movie Godfather (I wanted to seek apology from him as I was not a fan of godfather and I only watched it cos one of my friends believed that my life would not have been complete if I had not watched that movie) so we discussed international movies and then he went about mafia in Italy.. All this discussion with his hands busy and my brain being throbbed with noise of the various instruments used in my mouth. Yet I remembered each and every thing he said or discussed …
Its funny , but now I look forward to going there , not for my check ups , but listen to his discussions , more so his monologues .. These are the places that somehow we do not expect to find knowledge and here I was finding the best of all by treating myself as a patient. The way one can derive knowledge, there is no limit ….
In the words of my dentist, there is no limit …
All you need is a good listener, and someone who loves listening to stories ;)
4/29/10
is there a difference between the author and his work
Have been reading a lot into Russian literature and over time have come to conclusion that no one can romaticise the way they do , it’s a weird feeling , its something like what my friend said that , they depict the ugly side of humans that no one would like to listen .
Have been thinking now days , what if all these dark characters were actually the authors themselves … I mean the character in crime and punishment and his feelings were so well portrayed that it could only be written by someone who actually went thorugh it. The dark side was so deep , was so conflicting that even writing such thing could be devastating for the person unless you had seen it………..
Gorky, the way he discusses his poverty and then discusses the mad person who was poor and still believed in truth in his work “mother”. Its like he discussing his life Its funny that though all his characters were saddled by life yet there was some rays , I have no idea from these characters were deriving that energy or life…………..
The recent entry being , Lev Tolstoy , his work ‘ resurrection” the protagonist , the trauma he goes through , the whole fight within , what if the author too had seen this …. Could it really be possible, that it was just a piece of work, literature ……………..
Ppl say that we can differentiate the author and his work , I sometimes find it difficult to believe it. Maybe I am immature and I read too much into the lines , but these feelings or the different shades are so captivating that its difficult for me to understand that it can be just a fiction .
That this story was never repeated before, it never happened with anyone …………………
I sometimes feel like an author and I feel like penning down thoughts, thoughts that might b too dangerous to leash out, but something that I want the world to know.
Ill write a story and give my feelings a sketch and that sketch would be my protagonists ………
Did these Russian chaps feel the same , who knows..
Have been thinking now days , what if all these dark characters were actually the authors themselves … I mean the character in crime and punishment and his feelings were so well portrayed that it could only be written by someone who actually went thorugh it. The dark side was so deep , was so conflicting that even writing such thing could be devastating for the person unless you had seen it………..
Gorky, the way he discusses his poverty and then discusses the mad person who was poor and still believed in truth in his work “mother”. Its like he discussing his life Its funny that though all his characters were saddled by life yet there was some rays , I have no idea from these characters were deriving that energy or life…………..
The recent entry being , Lev Tolstoy , his work ‘ resurrection” the protagonist , the trauma he goes through , the whole fight within , what if the author too had seen this …. Could it really be possible, that it was just a piece of work, literature ……………..
Ppl say that we can differentiate the author and his work , I sometimes find it difficult to believe it. Maybe I am immature and I read too much into the lines , but these feelings or the different shades are so captivating that its difficult for me to understand that it can be just a fiction .
That this story was never repeated before, it never happened with anyone …………………
I sometimes feel like an author and I feel like penning down thoughts, thoughts that might b too dangerous to leash out, but something that I want the world to know.
Ill write a story and give my feelings a sketch and that sketch would be my protagonists ………
Did these Russian chaps feel the same , who knows..
is there anything which is actually ours !
Human beings are always trying to find a purpose for their lives. It can be a meaning, a journey or a cause. It helps in giving a better definition for their lives. This purpose is always a parameter to measure one’s live. Some people live by it, some people live for it. But most of the times these purposes are fake. People dnt realize it until they realize that its not the goal but the means of the journey that matters, one more sham that adds up on our list of thinking.
I have always been fascinated by the cause driven fights. Let it be the fundamental rights or any other violation. Have always tried to embrace these rights as a means to fulfill my destiny. But deep within have always had this question, how far will I go and do these causes mean anything to me other than just being the means.
For some its not the cause, cos the cause is based on their lives. It becomes cause for people like us, who are searching this earth for the purpose. I was inspired by this movie “ life of David gale’ to think about this whole conflict between the cause and the extent to which one will go to achieve it . There is this line in the movie where he discusses about how whole life we humans try avoiding the death, and finally we no more feel like avoiding it . He died for a cause, or make it they died for a cause. This very aspect of being mortal for a cause, gives the cause an immortal status where we humans are just a part of the universe plan. Scary to think , that our existence of not much of an importance, but I guess a lot more liberating . If the cause is the ultimate reason for a survival , how many of us are able to define this cause. Rand would have happily dismissed the humans who lived without a cause, but very few actually get to see the design for a cause. Very few fight their cause, most of us are just fighting for someone else’s cause. They can not be blamed, it said that one needs to feel it in order to understand the cause and the destiny chooses very few for this plan .
Most of us , just keep flying and land wherever we feel at home ,
Very few , make that haven for others to land.
Call it destiny or call it life.
I have always been fascinated by the cause driven fights. Let it be the fundamental rights or any other violation. Have always tried to embrace these rights as a means to fulfill my destiny. But deep within have always had this question, how far will I go and do these causes mean anything to me other than just being the means.
For some its not the cause, cos the cause is based on their lives. It becomes cause for people like us, who are searching this earth for the purpose. I was inspired by this movie “ life of David gale’ to think about this whole conflict between the cause and the extent to which one will go to achieve it . There is this line in the movie where he discusses about how whole life we humans try avoiding the death, and finally we no more feel like avoiding it . He died for a cause, or make it they died for a cause. This very aspect of being mortal for a cause, gives the cause an immortal status where we humans are just a part of the universe plan. Scary to think , that our existence of not much of an importance, but I guess a lot more liberating . If the cause is the ultimate reason for a survival , how many of us are able to define this cause. Rand would have happily dismissed the humans who lived without a cause, but very few actually get to see the design for a cause. Very few fight their cause, most of us are just fighting for someone else’s cause. They can not be blamed, it said that one needs to feel it in order to understand the cause and the destiny chooses very few for this plan .
Most of us , just keep flying and land wherever we feel at home ,
Very few , make that haven for others to land.
Call it destiny or call it life.
1/31/10
Re-living each and every day
There are times , you are sure you want to move on and experience everything that you had ever dreamt of ....But you are so scared of the failures and past experiences that you prefer living in a cocoon rather than trying out and living that life........
living life at that edge , that razor edge you always wanted to live....
so many times , you have lived life as though it was just a repitition of the previous day , as though you are reliving each and every day of your life and you hate it to the core and yet you would not b able to get out of that cycle cos you are caught up......
is it that tough ?
to take life in your hands and start a life all over again ...........
its funny , but Boman Irani said this while accepting his award today : i started acting at the age of 44 ! and i love it...........
sharukh is 44 and has been acting for last 20 years and he is tired of it .......
we decide which state we want to be in ?
living life at that edge , that razor edge you always wanted to live....
so many times , you have lived life as though it was just a repitition of the previous day , as though you are reliving each and every day of your life and you hate it to the core and yet you would not b able to get out of that cycle cos you are caught up......
is it that tough ?
to take life in your hands and start a life all over again ...........
its funny , but Boman Irani said this while accepting his award today : i started acting at the age of 44 ! and i love it...........
sharukh is 44 and has been acting for last 20 years and he is tired of it .......
we decide which state we want to be in ?
1/30/10
excerpts continued from dreams
shikha stood and thought about how death made her feel, it was cold and numb , like any great movie had taught her to feel but when she was finally faced by it, there was something about that she could not comprehend .......
they were right , it was cold and numb but it was painful and she could feel the blood freezing in her vain as though she would choke....
she never felt sad in the last 1 year , every death made life more comprehensible to her, in every funeral she just stood and stared at the flowers. she was trying to find meaning in every death possible, but there was no meaning. there were no angels , there was no god
nobody came to console her and she had to continue staring at the flowers.
by the 6th funeral , she started smiling at the coffins, she started observing the patterns on it, she started comparing the soil around and she longer missed people .she wanted it more peaceful and less dramatic. she wanted people to understand that funerals were not meant for them but for the dead and let him feel it for one day , that they really were part of this universe.
she always had a connection with old people as though they had some magic to pass on , some portions that only they could share... so death was the part of that magic, that neverland that only they could see,
she wished no one cried, no one disturbed in this whole magical process, she wished people understood the relevance of death......
she wanted people to get why others were dying.
they were fulfilling their purpose
they were dying cos we could live
it was still cold and numb.
and it was still a funeral
and she still smiled.
they were right , it was cold and numb but it was painful and she could feel the blood freezing in her vain as though she would choke....
she never felt sad in the last 1 year , every death made life more comprehensible to her, in every funeral she just stood and stared at the flowers. she was trying to find meaning in every death possible, but there was no meaning. there were no angels , there was no god
nobody came to console her and she had to continue staring at the flowers.
by the 6th funeral , she started smiling at the coffins, she started observing the patterns on it, she started comparing the soil around and she longer missed people .she wanted it more peaceful and less dramatic. she wanted people to understand that funerals were not meant for them but for the dead and let him feel it for one day , that they really were part of this universe.
she always had a connection with old people as though they had some magic to pass on , some portions that only they could share... so death was the part of that magic, that neverland that only they could see,
she wished no one cried, no one disturbed in this whole magical process, she wished people understood the relevance of death......
she wanted people to get why others were dying.
they were fulfilling their purpose
they were dying cos we could live
it was still cold and numb.
and it was still a funeral
and she still smiled.
1/28/10
excerpt from a dream...
Shikha knew she was gonna cry , really bad , but she could not and all she could do was stare ....... it was blank in front and all the details of the road were something she remembered very well. it was just as though she could draw the whole thing with one stroke of her paint , it was plain red and that was the image she wanted to paint........
she could see herself falling from a cliff, someone stood there at the top and she knew someone was looking for her , she was not sure whether the person wanted her to fall off and begin all over again or just wanted her to remain clinging there . it was plain painful . she could hear the temple verses and it haunted her..........
if only she could paint everything red, just as the sky she imagined , a sky that was red, a sky that had no clouds, something that did not give hope , something that did not raise curiosity.....
maybe it was tough to paint , to strike the brush , to form the colour she wanted to see.
she stood staring at things, she did want to move , but there was nothing red to hold.
she could see herself falling from a cliff, someone stood there at the top and she knew someone was looking for her , she was not sure whether the person wanted her to fall off and begin all over again or just wanted her to remain clinging there . it was plain painful . she could hear the temple verses and it haunted her..........
if only she could paint everything red, just as the sky she imagined , a sky that was red, a sky that had no clouds, something that did not give hope , something that did not raise curiosity.....
maybe it was tough to paint , to strike the brush , to form the colour she wanted to see.
she stood staring at things, she did want to move , but there was nothing red to hold.
1/5/10
idiots who remained idiots
after watching 3 idiots today , the only thing i could think was, distortion of the image of RYAN, i guess anyone who read the book so wanted to know why exactly ws ryan like that ......................
y was that nothing mattered to him , and nothing really was important. how he could afford to believe in things and how he continued in believing in such things.,
the book never gave reasons and maybe thats y it was so scared!
Ryan was more than just a charcter , maybe chetan bhagat never intended him to be such a good stuff , but he was an ideology himself..................
3 idiots gave reason for his nature , it gave boundaries and somehow everything was there in open ................
y was that all 3 became famous in the end. wat was wrong if rancho had not been successful ..... y was there such a big insistence on succeeding wen all he wanted was to learn ......................
wat was wrong , if he had ended as a loser!
maybe its a movie and as everyone wanted a good ending ..............
but am sure there are lot of ryans out there , who never became anything .........................
so there are idiots who remain idiots all their lives!
rememebr them ...............
y was that nothing mattered to him , and nothing really was important. how he could afford to believe in things and how he continued in believing in such things.,
the book never gave reasons and maybe thats y it was so scared!
Ryan was more than just a charcter , maybe chetan bhagat never intended him to be such a good stuff , but he was an ideology himself..................
3 idiots gave reason for his nature , it gave boundaries and somehow everything was there in open ................
y was that all 3 became famous in the end. wat was wrong if rancho had not been successful ..... y was there such a big insistence on succeeding wen all he wanted was to learn ......................
wat was wrong , if he had ended as a loser!
maybe its a movie and as everyone wanted a good ending ..............
but am sure there are lot of ryans out there , who never became anything .........................
so there are idiots who remain idiots all their lives!
rememebr them ...............
1/3/10
100 years of solitude for every feminist is what they want!
feminism is something i have been trying to handle for last one year . am sure of the fact that i do not hate men, but i reallly do not understand that why exactly is it so tough to talk the language of woman , they very fact that being emotional is considered to girly and weak is something i never understood/..............
ppl want to celebrate the 100 years of feminism , for what! i totally respect the woman who had the guts to leave the main domain and fight in an area which hardly had any voice but 100 years down the lane i personally feel it has gone down the drain !
i think twice before walking alone at night1 its not cos am scared of guys , but its cos am scared of society . if something does happen to me , ill be questioned for being there at the first place......... y do i have to live in fear and i find it perfectly normal if a guy leers at me in public ..................... y is to so conditioned and that no one feels that there is something odd......
hwat is this 100 years of feminism ....
are we looking for the basic 100 years of solitude
ppl want to celebrate the 100 years of feminism , for what! i totally respect the woman who had the guts to leave the main domain and fight in an area which hardly had any voice but 100 years down the lane i personally feel it has gone down the drain !
i think twice before walking alone at night1 its not cos am scared of guys , but its cos am scared of society . if something does happen to me , ill be questioned for being there at the first place......... y do i have to live in fear and i find it perfectly normal if a guy leers at me in public ..................... y is to so conditioned and that no one feels that there is something odd......
hwat is this 100 years of feminism ....
are we looking for the basic 100 years of solitude
11/4/09
this is funny , but this entry is dedicated to the pigeons.
up above the world is so high , like a diamond in the sky.
for past 30 days i have been loooking at the pigeons at the metro station. they just sit there . sit and wait for a victim, they sit and size up the victim. they sit and wait until their timing is right .
and finally the bomb is released !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
think about it ........
its 14 feet above the ground, all they can see , our round heads, some moght have hair some might not! but for them its all the same . its revenge against all the humanity which forced them to perch on the stupid metro station !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
up above the world is so high , like a diamond in the sky.
for past 30 days i have been loooking at the pigeons at the metro station. they just sit there . sit and wait for a victim, they sit and size up the victim. they sit and wait until their timing is right .
and finally the bomb is released !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
think about it ........
its 14 feet above the ground, all they can see , our round heads, some moght have hair some might not! but for them its all the same . its revenge against all the humanity which forced them to perch on the stupid metro station !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
7/10/09
"nothing else matters"
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!
writing as though nothing else matters.
right now in a phase of life, when suddenly thinking does not make sense. i remember someone telling me that i wish i could stop thinking and lay in peace. how true were those words.
after years read "alchemist' today and trust me , suddenly i could no longer relate to it .
4 years back it had perfect sense. it was the most optimistic person around and now all i could think was how to disprove every theory of his!
funny . the more we grow up , the more we think and less we want to believe in things. we prefer questioning and nothing is worth . its all little abstract!
writing as though nothing else matters.
right now in a phase of life, when suddenly thinking does not make sense. i remember someone telling me that i wish i could stop thinking and lay in peace. how true were those words.
after years read "alchemist' today and trust me , suddenly i could no longer relate to it .
4 years back it had perfect sense. it was the most optimistic person around and now all i could think was how to disprove every theory of his!
funny . the more we grow up , the more we think and less we want to believe in things. we prefer questioning and nothing is worth . its all little abstract!
4/11/09
this is what 'human bondage' made me feel
If you reason and then act then it gives you pleasure but if you go against reason and think from your heart, it would give you pain.
Spinoza
When one is in love, one really acts dumb. And according to my best friend it is perfectly normal and to be more precise one gets some humor in one’s life. I am not sure of that line but that one thing is sure is that one becomes a source of humour for your friends. I would love to call it as love , but we all are aware of it that it take ages to fall in love and seconds to fall in trap, so I too am a victim of that trap.
Its so humiliating the way one acts, or maybe people who know you can really take advantage of you, but nothing stops one from being so stupid.
I remember reading ‘Human Bondage’. I hated that passages where there was mention of Mildred, I just could not go further. I mean the character ‘Philip’ was so vulnerable and so true. One could relate with him and feel so pathetic about one self. We all have acted that way once in our lives and I personally think that if one has not, then one has not lived life. Maybe he was right when he says that he can’t help acting like that. It was degrading; it was humiliating that I was so ashamed that I was reading it. I remember where Philip tries to reason his action and he was not able to make any logic out of it. Also the fact that Maugham keeps on brining the character ‘Mildred’ again and again back. He keeps on torturing Philip and worse he enjoys and relives the whole pain again and again.
He has the perfect woman who can give him love; still he prefers the one that he would only give him pain. Even Mildred does the same; she keeps on opting for the guys who would never love her. She never cares for Philip even though she knows that he really loves her. Maybe it’s like a vicious circle where no one really loves anyone but it’s the feeling that completes you. It’s not about the other person, its how one feels bout oneself while being with them. There was this line where he says that after getting her, he feels repulsive when he finally has control over her, he feels nothing! No amount of logic would ever solve it. And the best part was that the author never promised that Mildred would not return!
I remember through out the book while reading I kept on wishing that Philip would not encounter Mildred ever again, cos I knew from the bottom of my heart , that he would lose all his guards. His life would be toppled upside down and again he would be on the roads.
The only people I loved in the novel was Cronshaw and Cilfton , both of them were beautifully destroyed in the story . I am sure Maugham would have given a lot of time thinking about the death these great souls deserved. I personally think souls like these do not have right to exist cos they would not change a thing but would make the human feel miserable about themselves.
If people ever lived for themselves or for the sake of life , we would not have ended this way , but that exactly was Maugham’s point . There was no meaning about life. One did not have spent to ages trying to understand it. It was like the Persian rug that cronshaw had gifted Philip, it had different patterns and all these patterns just added spice to life. The colours of the rug were the emotions of life. One could darken it or make it beautiful but
Its emotions only that can show you all the colours of life. You cant pick your choices , life just gives you and very few survive it.
Spinoza
When one is in love, one really acts dumb. And according to my best friend it is perfectly normal and to be more precise one gets some humor in one’s life. I am not sure of that line but that one thing is sure is that one becomes a source of humour for your friends. I would love to call it as love , but we all are aware of it that it take ages to fall in love and seconds to fall in trap, so I too am a victim of that trap.
Its so humiliating the way one acts, or maybe people who know you can really take advantage of you, but nothing stops one from being so stupid.
I remember reading ‘Human Bondage’. I hated that passages where there was mention of Mildred, I just could not go further. I mean the character ‘Philip’ was so vulnerable and so true. One could relate with him and feel so pathetic about one self. We all have acted that way once in our lives and I personally think that if one has not, then one has not lived life. Maybe he was right when he says that he can’t help acting like that. It was degrading; it was humiliating that I was so ashamed that I was reading it. I remember where Philip tries to reason his action and he was not able to make any logic out of it. Also the fact that Maugham keeps on brining the character ‘Mildred’ again and again back. He keeps on torturing Philip and worse he enjoys and relives the whole pain again and again.
He has the perfect woman who can give him love; still he prefers the one that he would only give him pain. Even Mildred does the same; she keeps on opting for the guys who would never love her. She never cares for Philip even though she knows that he really loves her. Maybe it’s like a vicious circle where no one really loves anyone but it’s the feeling that completes you. It’s not about the other person, its how one feels bout oneself while being with them. There was this line where he says that after getting her, he feels repulsive when he finally has control over her, he feels nothing! No amount of logic would ever solve it. And the best part was that the author never promised that Mildred would not return!
I remember through out the book while reading I kept on wishing that Philip would not encounter Mildred ever again, cos I knew from the bottom of my heart , that he would lose all his guards. His life would be toppled upside down and again he would be on the roads.
The only people I loved in the novel was Cronshaw and Cilfton , both of them were beautifully destroyed in the story . I am sure Maugham would have given a lot of time thinking about the death these great souls deserved. I personally think souls like these do not have right to exist cos they would not change a thing but would make the human feel miserable about themselves.
If people ever lived for themselves or for the sake of life , we would not have ended this way , but that exactly was Maugham’s point . There was no meaning about life. One did not have spent to ages trying to understand it. It was like the Persian rug that cronshaw had gifted Philip, it had different patterns and all these patterns just added spice to life. The colours of the rug were the emotions of life. One could darken it or make it beautiful but
Its emotions only that can show you all the colours of life. You cant pick your choices , life just gives you and very few survive it.
wish hume had not written so much
The moment one thinks of coming up with something new, its like a rain that drenches you completely . You do not where to start from and where to head to , you know there is something in you that need to be told to the world and somehow you try looking for one of these tiny support system that would be there even if you go wrong.
One of these moments of my life, when I am sure I have solved the greatest mystery of my life: What exactly to do with my life. And I am waiting for this person to call me back so that I can discuss it. Its weird cos I really want someone to hear it , I don not know why I need such support , but I am too scared to lose the grip as though am falling out of the normal routine , or the fact that no one would be able to understand it.
I am still waiting for the reply and I am disgusted to the core, not with the person but with myself. Thinking how can I let a person ruin everything for me? Is it true that not everything in life is sweet? One has to lose a lot before one finally finds oneself. Did everyone go through it or am I just hallucinating. I guess this is called the holy moment which would survive for few hours; it would drain every atom of energy I have and leave me with an empty feeling making me feel like a perfect idiotic person tomorrow.
Since I am getting desperate for the reply, my other half has started talking to me. Is it true that all great ppl end up alone with no one to listen to them but years after they die some idiotic person trying to understand their theory for which they give up everything. Am I even capable of thinking such stuff? I am not sure whether it was brave of them to do such a thing but am so sure it was not so easy. Strange but we humans have justification for everything in life, everything. I remember being told hat family and friends are the ones that ruin a person. I abhorred such ideas but maybe it’s the fact that the ‘I’ never ever had the guts to do things which she wanted to do. Or maybe I too have been this part of the family and friend who prevented someone else from doing a thing which the ‘I’ wanted t do. It’s like we are always trying to find a reason for why ‘I’ can not be the genius. Strange how we spent hours on just thinking about why we are so normal . Funny , the only moment we think; we spent it on justifying why exactly we are losers. Did these great people even had brains or people were too complacent to question them. Or maybe( maybe is one of the terms that still let me believe that I can make mistakes) nobody ever wanted to think. And the people who think are the ones who are condemned.
No trace of a reply , it feels awful , because I thought someone would be interested to hear it . But then comes the dirty question .Why did I even think such thing . why would anyone want to hear me or anyone, its not like am gonna reveal the truth or clarify regarding whether there is god or not. Forget God , am not even sure whether I even exist. But I did, and I have a strong feeling would always do. Is it wrong to look for a support , does it show my weakness or the fact that my ideas need to approved. Did Galileo think like this , would have thought if he was 21 years old!( am just getting too good at giving excuses)
This reply was important cos I wanted to discuss a movie scene! One has to discuss it to relive a whole new world . Discuss it to hear oneself , discuss it to just to prove how strongly one believes in it. But I guess I ll discuss it here:
SCENE 1: A man aged 90 is sitting outside his house at a temperature -30 degree celsuis. He is suffering from a disease where he does not remember anything and he is declared to be eccentric. He was considered to be one of the finest mathematicians of his time. He is writing a work, his daughter comes to him and he tells her how he has come up with this great work. She takes the notebook.
SCENE II – she is telling her sister , how she has come up with a theory. Nobody believes her , they all tell her that she is stealing hr dad’s work . her friend tells her that he ‘ll look at the work and tell her if the work even make sense. She enters eccentricity.
SCENE III The guy friend comes back and tells her that her theory was right. It can not be his work cos it is math which is still not developed, something her father would have never known and thus its her work . she looks at him and says you all have been trying to get a PHD , all you can ever come up with will be some re wording of the some others work . You can never think . Someone else did and that person needed your approval to prove that it was a true work.
Was touched by these words: that’s exactly what I was trying to do, come up with works , with big words, names and ideas. Always of someone else, never of my own. Would be a mediocre who ll just champion the causes of mediocrity, trying to justify god why exactly he made things the way it is. Ill be either the ‘guy friend’ or the ‘eccentric woman’. I stopped thinking after that. Cos my head aches . and when it aches it really aches bad.
No reply and no reply becomes the status of this paper. The test of writing this which I would never written . do not wanna read it but I know it will have doubts of a lot of people. Just doubts, insecurities and feelings. That’s the only thing we can write without reason . rest all is ‘REASON’.
This no reply made me write , something which I dread the most . I remember reading ‘ trainspotting’ and laughing at the author . I could never understand him but according to greeny he was great. So I ahd to read cos he was great . and I somehow derived happiness from the fact that I had to struggle so much to understand him . what was so special about him that I had to had to understand him . But that mad man gives me the courage to write , maybe nobody would understand , nobody would like to hear it maybe! Or maybe everone would eventually get it , people would love it , everybody would be all ears.
I rememeber sitting outside my home and trying to discuss life with greeny and she comes up with this question : which somehow started this whole chain of thoughts :
Gregory Mendel came up with the theory of chromosomes , there was this another scientist who was the greatest scientist of that time. He never let Mendel come up with his work. Years after, Mendel’s work was discovered and it was proved right and the other scientist was eventually proved wrong.
WHO WOULD YOU WANT TO BE : SOMEONE WHO WAS FAMOUS ALL THEIR LIFE AND LATER PROVED WRONG OR SOMEONE WHO NEVER RECEIVED HIS GLORY BUT WAS PROVED RIGHT LATER…………………
I AM STILL THINKING……………………………
One of these moments of my life, when I am sure I have solved the greatest mystery of my life: What exactly to do with my life. And I am waiting for this person to call me back so that I can discuss it. Its weird cos I really want someone to hear it , I don not know why I need such support , but I am too scared to lose the grip as though am falling out of the normal routine , or the fact that no one would be able to understand it.
I am still waiting for the reply and I am disgusted to the core, not with the person but with myself. Thinking how can I let a person ruin everything for me? Is it true that not everything in life is sweet? One has to lose a lot before one finally finds oneself. Did everyone go through it or am I just hallucinating. I guess this is called the holy moment which would survive for few hours; it would drain every atom of energy I have and leave me with an empty feeling making me feel like a perfect idiotic person tomorrow.
Since I am getting desperate for the reply, my other half has started talking to me. Is it true that all great ppl end up alone with no one to listen to them but years after they die some idiotic person trying to understand their theory for which they give up everything. Am I even capable of thinking such stuff? I am not sure whether it was brave of them to do such a thing but am so sure it was not so easy. Strange but we humans have justification for everything in life, everything. I remember being told hat family and friends are the ones that ruin a person. I abhorred such ideas but maybe it’s the fact that the ‘I’ never ever had the guts to do things which she wanted to do. Or maybe I too have been this part of the family and friend who prevented someone else from doing a thing which the ‘I’ wanted t do. It’s like we are always trying to find a reason for why ‘I’ can not be the genius. Strange how we spent hours on just thinking about why we are so normal . Funny , the only moment we think; we spent it on justifying why exactly we are losers. Did these great people even had brains or people were too complacent to question them. Or maybe( maybe is one of the terms that still let me believe that I can make mistakes) nobody ever wanted to think. And the people who think are the ones who are condemned.
No trace of a reply , it feels awful , because I thought someone would be interested to hear it . But then comes the dirty question .Why did I even think such thing . why would anyone want to hear me or anyone, its not like am gonna reveal the truth or clarify regarding whether there is god or not. Forget God , am not even sure whether I even exist. But I did, and I have a strong feeling would always do. Is it wrong to look for a support , does it show my weakness or the fact that my ideas need to approved. Did Galileo think like this , would have thought if he was 21 years old!( am just getting too good at giving excuses)
This reply was important cos I wanted to discuss a movie scene! One has to discuss it to relive a whole new world . Discuss it to hear oneself , discuss it to just to prove how strongly one believes in it. But I guess I ll discuss it here:
SCENE 1: A man aged 90 is sitting outside his house at a temperature -30 degree celsuis. He is suffering from a disease where he does not remember anything and he is declared to be eccentric. He was considered to be one of the finest mathematicians of his time. He is writing a work, his daughter comes to him and he tells her how he has come up with this great work. She takes the notebook.
SCENE II – she is telling her sister , how she has come up with a theory. Nobody believes her , they all tell her that she is stealing hr dad’s work . her friend tells her that he ‘ll look at the work and tell her if the work even make sense. She enters eccentricity.
SCENE III The guy friend comes back and tells her that her theory was right. It can not be his work cos it is math which is still not developed, something her father would have never known and thus its her work . she looks at him and says you all have been trying to get a PHD , all you can ever come up with will be some re wording of the some others work . You can never think . Someone else did and that person needed your approval to prove that it was a true work.
Was touched by these words: that’s exactly what I was trying to do, come up with works , with big words, names and ideas. Always of someone else, never of my own. Would be a mediocre who ll just champion the causes of mediocrity, trying to justify god why exactly he made things the way it is. Ill be either the ‘guy friend’ or the ‘eccentric woman’. I stopped thinking after that. Cos my head aches . and when it aches it really aches bad.
No reply and no reply becomes the status of this paper. The test of writing this which I would never written . do not wanna read it but I know it will have doubts of a lot of people. Just doubts, insecurities and feelings. That’s the only thing we can write without reason . rest all is ‘REASON’.
This no reply made me write , something which I dread the most . I remember reading ‘ trainspotting’ and laughing at the author . I could never understand him but according to greeny he was great. So I ahd to read cos he was great . and I somehow derived happiness from the fact that I had to struggle so much to understand him . what was so special about him that I had to had to understand him . But that mad man gives me the courage to write , maybe nobody would understand , nobody would like to hear it maybe! Or maybe everone would eventually get it , people would love it , everybody would be all ears.
I rememeber sitting outside my home and trying to discuss life with greeny and she comes up with this question : which somehow started this whole chain of thoughts :
Gregory Mendel came up with the theory of chromosomes , there was this another scientist who was the greatest scientist of that time. He never let Mendel come up with his work. Years after, Mendel’s work was discovered and it was proved right and the other scientist was eventually proved wrong.
WHO WOULD YOU WANT TO BE : SOMEONE WHO WAS FAMOUS ALL THEIR LIFE AND LATER PROVED WRONG OR SOMEONE WHO NEVER RECEIVED HIS GLORY BUT WAS PROVED RIGHT LATER…………………
I AM STILL THINKING……………………………
12/30/08
i wish woman had the right to chose once!
Someone once said that prostitution should be legalized, and trust me that person thought that he sounded like a modern man and was actually talking like a liberal.
But the only thing I could think of was, whether the woman involved really wanted to do this? I know there are reasons , there are circumstances but still would a woman ever do this, exchange her body for cash (even if I ever try arguing that woman can do that for pleasure, that’s something that would take ages to get into the thick heads) so lets just stick to the economic part of it. I come from a part where woman would die rather than do this, call me a conservative but that’s what I think, and the woman who get into this profession are forced by poverty (again a view so restricted by the readings and the feminists and the movies and any other source that an Indian can think off)
It strange that in this market (everything has boiled down to money, and I only can thank Western Economy for this) most of the consumers are the men and most of the service providers are woman. Thus this woman would exchange some cash and would provide services. Till now it’s fair enough in market sense.
If there is demand there would be supply.
But again the strange question comes into the picture, is this demand only restricted to women. Is there no demand for men??
Or if there is a demand, maybe it’s not really worth or maybe the demand is fulfilled by husbands………………………………….
Ok, I am aware of the fact that there are men involved in this institution (which person came up with this word, for everything is called an institution!!), but most of these men involved are either consumers or pimps or sometimes even service providers, but the ratio is less again. Maybe Freud would have an answer for that, so let’s leave that question out of this.
Strange but have always encountered this argument that this carnal desire is something that is natural and prostitution is a part of society and if its not there the ‘other woman’ of the society would not be able to survive!
In short, these prostitutes are like filters that filter the society of the dirty elements and since evil would always be there, these filters would always be there whether one likes it or not …………………
Strange but is this dirty element again restricted to men, are woman not even considered dirty enough to be these evil elements………………………..
We are trying to protect some woman by destroying some woman! I know life is not fair but can’t be this unfair also .
I know some people would find it feminist’s argument , hate to be labeled that but world has found a nomenclature for everything and lets thanks the oxford dictionary for that.
But would love to be contradicted on this
Have more but somehow don’t want to write a thesis here.
But the only thing I could think of was, whether the woman involved really wanted to do this? I know there are reasons , there are circumstances but still would a woman ever do this, exchange her body for cash (even if I ever try arguing that woman can do that for pleasure, that’s something that would take ages to get into the thick heads) so lets just stick to the economic part of it. I come from a part where woman would die rather than do this, call me a conservative but that’s what I think, and the woman who get into this profession are forced by poverty (again a view so restricted by the readings and the feminists and the movies and any other source that an Indian can think off)
It strange that in this market (everything has boiled down to money, and I only can thank Western Economy for this) most of the consumers are the men and most of the service providers are woman. Thus this woman would exchange some cash and would provide services. Till now it’s fair enough in market sense.
If there is demand there would be supply.
But again the strange question comes into the picture, is this demand only restricted to women. Is there no demand for men??
Or if there is a demand, maybe it’s not really worth or maybe the demand is fulfilled by husbands………………………………….
Ok, I am aware of the fact that there are men involved in this institution (which person came up with this word, for everything is called an institution!!), but most of these men involved are either consumers or pimps or sometimes even service providers, but the ratio is less again. Maybe Freud would have an answer for that, so let’s leave that question out of this.
Strange but have always encountered this argument that this carnal desire is something that is natural and prostitution is a part of society and if its not there the ‘other woman’ of the society would not be able to survive!
In short, these prostitutes are like filters that filter the society of the dirty elements and since evil would always be there, these filters would always be there whether one likes it or not …………………
Strange but is this dirty element again restricted to men, are woman not even considered dirty enough to be these evil elements………………………..
We are trying to protect some woman by destroying some woman! I know life is not fair but can’t be this unfair also .
I know some people would find it feminist’s argument , hate to be labeled that but world has found a nomenclature for everything and lets thanks the oxford dictionary for that.
But would love to be contradicted on this
Have more but somehow don’t want to write a thesis here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)