Thursday, August 28, 2008

“Madness as you know is like gravity, all it needs is a little push….”


This line, spoken by the character of Joker in Dark Knight, is of such profound meaning and philosophy that may not have been portrayed or delved into in any movie till date. (This is my personal assumption as I can’t claim to be a thoroughly knowledgeable person in world cinema, and thus shouldn't be held liable for the same.)
It is a dialogue which has stuck with me long after other aspects of the movie have become a blur. I can identify two reasons as to why this still lingers in my memory with such clarity and impression. First reason is the impact of the dialogue delivery by Heath Ledger. Second reason is the provocativeness of the dialogue to make one think of the implication behind it; the very vision it conjures up.
All I could think of is how true the words are actually. In the rational world we are conditioned to keep our irrational (so called) urges under reign; put a tight lid of reason on it and try to forget their existence. Reason is what stipulates the boundaries of morality. My intellect and understanding capability further makes me reflect at length, and come up with my following perceptions. I perceive madness as an integral part of our being, our essence. But such a part which is denied to be expressed because we have been burdened (or cursed?) with the responsibility of being civilized and walk on the path of morality, for aeons and aeons to come. The demands of life, of survival and progress takes such a toll on our intellect that we are placed on the edge of sanity. We spend our entire life struggling to hold ourselves back and not get over powered with the impulse to take that one voluntary step to plunge/hurl ourselves into the waiting arms of madness and get the taste of the forbidden fruit.
Though the unknown has always tantalized our curious nature for exploration but in this case the abysmal fear of the unknown and the burden of societal relegation have been strong enough to stop us from severing the strings of reason, which acts as the salvation. Reason: our embraced comrade in arms; in the quest to prevent the unleashing of the "demons of chaos".
Since we have been forever conditioned to be a perpetual coward; so factually what we really need is indeed just a stimulus in the way of a push (figuratively), which will make us overcome our fear, conscience and will propel us to fall and set ourselves free of reason. Thus make us head for an experience in freedom, which I believe would be, the greatest of all!

[Madness is defined as – the state of being mad; insanity. Mad is defined as – is a mentally disturbed; deranged; insane; demented.]

Friday, August 22, 2008

Quest of Self Love

Don't mind if I go off to sleep
Try not to wake me,
As you let yourself out.
No good- byes, as they are not meant to be.
Only taking with you thy belief that,
Love is not in vain!

As for my mortal being
At a time as this,
Can't afford to live,
In a world of illusions,
Glorified by emotions galore.

One of which is still an elusive enigma,
Goes by Self Love, the acclaimed love,
Such that alludes me.

Search as I may,
It seems just out of reach.
As though it wants tantalization,
An integral part of the game.

A game, a lesson in self realization.
An achievement on which lies,
Its surrender to me for time immortal.

Once attained I shall seek you out
Oh my Love!
Once again
With conviction, faith and renewed love.

To embrace thee,
Thy love,
Thy belief, that,
Love is not in vain,
Once and forever!

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Renewed Faith in the Batman Franchise

Much has been said and written about “Dark Knight” since its worldwide release on 18th July. And here I am too joining the likes of whom that have been compelled by the sheer celluloid mastery to pen down their opinion, praise or criticism.
Even before its release public interest in it had been sufficiently aroused by the untimely death of Heath Ledger, which made this the last movie of his prolific career. For the publicity of the film the studio kept in the fore front the villain, the “Joker” played by Heath, instead of the hero i.e. the “Batman”, played by Christian Bale. This seemed like a very unusual strategy since as per the rule book the savior of mankind is the one who is usually promoted the most. When I ponder over this strategy the question foremost on the mind is that whether this was chosen to make the most of the aftermath of the untimely demise of Heath or his portrayal of the character of Joker left no room for doubt as to who would be pulling the crowd to the theater (the most likely answer would be a nod to both of them). I would like to go with an affirmation to the later question because it leaves no other possibility.
In spite of being a movie buff, I had given ‘Batman Begins’ a skip. The reason behind this was that the last Batman installment, “Batman and Robin”, had left such a bad taste in my mouth that I was completely off the Batman bandwagon. I had realized that I had come off age and the comic book setting and storyline of the Batman franchise didn’t appeal to me any longer. Moreover never had heard of Christian Bale, due to which my curiosity towards the star appeal could not get tantalized. Due to these very reasons, even though “Batman Begins” hit the bull’s eye at the box office and made a mark on the mass and critics alike, I remained unaware of the cinematic history that was being created and thus missed out on the opportunity to catch it in the theaters.
I cannot deny the fact that indeed it was Heath Ledger’s death that got me aware of the making of “Dark Knight”, the sequel to “Batman Begins”. I had watched “Brokeback Mountain” and therefore knew what Heath was capable of on screen. So as the days drew nearer for the release of Dark Knight I started getting more and more attuned to the happenings and press release surrounding the movie. By then I had also watched “The Prestige” and so was no longer a stranger to Christian Bale’s acting powers. Thus my faith in the star cast had heightened my anticipation, for the movie, tremendously.
Now that I have watched the movie let me talk a little about the aftermath. First of all, after a long time I have come across a movie whose hype did it justice.
The impact of the movie, on one hand, and the performance of Heath, on the other, has been of such magnitude that every time the impact is about to lessen I feel compelled to renew it by watching another rerun. It’s not exaggeration, but Heath’s character has haunted my sleeps. The Joker’s psychotic disposition is not what has haunted me but it’s his rationalism which has. My hats off to the mind behind the conceptualization of the theme of the movie. A movie which leaves you with questions and makes you delve into yourself for the answers are very hard to come by and meant to be reckoned with. This is a movie which has joined that league and deserves to do so.
Towards the end of this passage, I would like to join millions of viewers who have voiced their support for Heath to be not only nominated but win the Oscars for Best Actor (and not Best Supporting Actor) posthumously.
Last, but not the least, I really hope that the Batman franchise has more in store for us, who have now, once again, become ardent followers of this legacy!

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Rainy Days and Their Memories Beholden

Riya is curled up under the duvet, awake but pretending not to be. She peeps out from under her cozy cover and looks out the window, with squinting eyes. All that she can make out is a grey sky, and then she stares enraptured by the activity of the tiny water droplets which slither side ways to join into one single big blob which unable to hold on to the parapet drop to their great fall. Watching this makes her impish face break into a smile of delight.
“Shona, its time for you to leave the bed” calls out her mother, Lata, from the kitchen.
Her mother’s voice brings Riya back from her trance. She slowly stretches out her arms and legs and wills herself to rise and shine.
“Ma, has it been raining the whole night?” she asks her mother as she makes her way towards the balcony.
“Yes. Don’t waste too much time lazing around” replies her mother.
Riya reaches the balcony and looks around, hugging herself. There is a chill in the air due to the constant heavy downpour and the sun’s rays have not been able to cut through the thick clouds in the sky. Being on the eleventh floor of the multi storied building that the Biswas family occupies gives them the benefit of enjoying the panoramic view of Kolkata from their balcony and the various windows in their flat. Little Riya never tires of standing for hours in the balcony or the bedroom window, depending on whichever view has taken her fancy. The balcony is from where she can enjoy the activities happening on the street below and also in the playground of the school across the street. And from the bedroom window she can look at the dome of the Victoria Memorial Palace and the Hoogly Bridge and the several other sky scrappers.
Today, as she looks down at the road below she finds it water logged. She even notices that the International School, across the street, isn’t buzzing with its usual early morning activities and school traffic.
“Baba, I can see very less students coming to school today, down below. Do you think my school is going to declare a holiday today looking at the heavy rain?” Riya asks her father, Debashish, who is sipping tea and going through the morning newspaper.
Debashish looks up speculatively from the paper and runs his gaze from Riya’s expectant face to the view behind her and tries to evaluate the hypothesis.
“I can’t say for sure, Shonamuni! If the school authorities don’t want unnecessary trouble in hand, if it continues raining in this manner they just might declare a holiday” he replies at length.
This is music to Riya’s ears. Nothing thrills her more than an unscheduled holiday.
“Baba please can you call up and find out if school is closed today?” pleads an excited and hopeful Riya.
This not being a decision to be taken on his own, Debashish calls out to his wife for consultation. Hearing him Lata comes at once and is about to scold Riya on finding her still lingering around and not getting ready for school.
“Shona wants me to call up school and find out whether they have declared a holiday, today or not, due to the rain. I think it is a good idea as it will save a lot of your efforts and anxiety. What do you say?” asks Debashish.
“I think it’s a good idea. Try to find out quickly.” replies Lata. Turning to Riya she says “Go and brush your teeth and do the morning essentials. Holiday has not yet been confirmed so don’t take it for granted!” and then she hurries back to the kitchen.
Though Riya takes off to the bathroom to do as her mother told her, her actions are languid since her childish intuitions are telling her that there is no point in hurrying on a holiday. She loves going to school and enjoys her time there, but the unexpected always fills her with anticipation of events to unfold.
“Shona, Shona!” calls out Debashish, hearing which Riya comes out running from the bathroom. “Yes baba?” she asks.
“Holiday for you” declares Debashish with a broad smile on his face.
“Yipee!” Riya cries out in joy and dances around in the drawing room.
“Lucky you, Shonamuni. But this poor man has no such luck and has to get ready for office, that too in such weather” says Debashish and heads for the bathroom.
“Ma, did you hear the news? It’s a holiday!” exclaims Riya aloud to her mother, who has come to witness her little Shona’s excitement which never fails to touch her. Lata is glad that school has declared a holiday because she did not feel comfortable sending Riya to school in such weather, specially knowing the kind of chaos that arises in the school area during rains.

Till Debashish leaves for office Riya occupies herself with hovering around her father and trying, in her own playful manner, to help him get ready for office. After he leaves she is left with to decide on her next course of action. She, eventually, decides to do some art and craft sitting at the entrance of the balcony, since the heavy rains has made it impossible for her to sit at her favorite spot which is near the railing. In keeping with the rain she gets the idea of making some colorful paper boats which she intends to sail on the flooded street. The street, behind the building, is low lying and has always displayed the potential for full fledged flooding. And today seems to be that very day when this shall happen!
By the time Riya has completed building four different colored boats the intensity of the downpour has reduced considerably. Now she can’t wait to go down and set them to sail. Since its still raining she knows, very well, that she will need to enforce much persuasion and coaxing upon her mother to get permission to go down. Determined she goes in search of Lata, whom she finds busy in the kitchen.
“Ma, look at these boats I have made. Do you like them?” she asks, holding up her pride creations.
“They are good. I hope you have cleaned up the litter you must have created.”
“Yes I have. Ma…may I please go down and sail these boats on the street? I promise you I will be careful and won’t spend a lot of time.” Riya implores with a pleading look on her face.
Looking at her daughter’s persuasive expression Lata cannot bring herself to deny her. “Ok go. But make sure that you don’t go any further than the compound gate and that I am able to keep a look at you from the kitchen window. And also take your umbrella; I don’t want the rain water to be falling on your head.”
With a squeal Riya goes skipping to the bedroom, collects her umbrella and puts the boats in a poly bag. “Ta ta ma.” she shouts, from the entrance door.
She reaches the parking lobby of the building, unfolds the umbrella and heads for the compound gate, jumping over puddles on the way.

When she reaches the gate she stares at the flooded street in amazement. The pavements are completely submerged and the water is lapping against the walls on either side of the street. A few people are seen trying to wade through the water, whose level is up to their knees. Seeing them makes her tentatively venture a little further and dip her foot into the muddy and dirty water. Liking the feel of water lapping against her foot encourages her to go a little bit deeper but then suddenly she feels something brush past against her ankle. Immediately she scrambles back to dry land. Knowing that her mother must be keeping a watch on her, she doesn’t want to get into trouble. Instead she focuses her attention to sailing her boats without any further delay.
She takes out all the boats from the bag and places them on the water. They look really pretty floating and bobbing around. But they don’t seem to be taking off for any destination. Riya is not happy with this. She wants to watch them undertake their bon voyage with zest and keep sailing away. She nudges them with her toe and finds them getting a little displaced. Then she realizes that her boats need to get the initial push to take off. Since she doesn’t want to make use of her hands or feet for the same she looks around for some twigs. She finds a small branch and uses it to propel her boats. After a few efforts she finds another short coming with her boats. They are getting soaked in water and right there in front of her eyes one after another they capsize. Riya watches the tragedy with a crest fallen look and tries, very hard, not to cry. She remains standing, head bowed, staring at the spot where the last of her boats had sunk, twirling the umbrella’s handle. It’s as though the great loss has caught her transfixed.
A low whimpering sound is able to cut through her bemusement, through its persistence. Riya gets alert and looks around for the source of the pitiful whimpering. She is able to decipher that it sounds like a cat’s whine. She moves along with the sound which takes her to the old banyan tree, situated to the left of the gate within the compound. Though she is sure of the sound coming from that place, she is unable to locate the cat. She slowly starts circling the banyan tree and within seconds she locates a small kitten, looking back at her with doleful eyes, huddling in a small hollow in the bark of the tree. It is drenched, shivering and scared. At first sight Riya’s little heart goes out to it. As she squats down the kitten takes a few steps back and increases the tempo of its whimpering. Riya tries to sooth it down by making a few reassuring and endearing sounds of her own. This works and makes the kitten quiet down, but it keeps looking at her apprehensively. Riya is fascinated to be at such close proximity with a kitten. She can’t wait to reach out and touch it. But she knows that she has to do so very carefully so as not to frighten away the little kitty. After spending a few minutes staring at it back she cautiously stretches out her hand and gently runs her finger tip over the kitten’s crown. The kitten’s non frightened response encourages her to run her hand over its back. This makes the kitten purr in delight, which in turn gets Riya excited and she feels that a friendship has been forged between them. This turn of events makes it unthinkable for her to abandon her new found friend in this dismal condition. But the big question looming ahead is “Where should I take it?” Ma will never allow the kitten into the house. She doesn’t approve of any pets. Then what? Before the bleakness of the situation can get the better of her a brilliant plan comes to her mind. She decides to take the kitten up to her floor and hide it in the abandoned cardboard box, near the service lane. She leans over and gently picks up the kitten and places it at the crock of her arm and makes a dash for the building lobby. Thankfully on reaching her floor she doesn’t confront anybody. She directly takes the kitten to the cardboard box and gently places it inside. The side of the box is tall enough to prevent the kitten to jump out and it seems to be in a good enough condition to satisfy Riya. The kitten surveys the interiors and starts whimpering again staring up at Riya. “Poor Kitty, you are hungry isn’t it?” croons Riya as she tries to pacify it gently stroking its head. “Meow” confirms the kitten. So now the next plan of action is to smuggle food for it.

Riya goes home and desperately waits for an opportunity to take some food and a few other things to make her Kitty’s shelter more habitable. She gets her chance when her mother settles down to take her afternoon siesta. She collects her stuffs and stealthily makes her way out of the house to the box. She finds Kitty to be dozing but as soon as she kneels down beside the box it gets alert. Riya places a broken earthen plate, in front of the kitten, and pours milk into it. The kitten cautiously approaches the plate takes a few tentative licks, on liking it gets down to finishing the rest. Riya watches it with pride and delight. Once it’s done feasting it stretches out, gives a contended yawn and goes to a corner and curls up once again, to complete its interrupted sleep. In the meanwhile Riya places a few old cotton rugs, a small rubber ball and fills up the plate with water. She spends a few more minutes watching her friend and then heads back to her flat. Back at home she feels restless; she has got to share this secret with someone. But who? Definitely not with Ma. Perhaps she can confide in Baba. After contemplating for a while, she decides to do so.
Now she can hardly wait for her father’s return. In the evening when Debashish returns Riya is bursting with excitement, which is getting very difficult for her to contain. She can’t wait to tell her father her big secret but then she has to hold on for the right moment. After Debashish has freshened up and settled to enjoy his evening tea she goes up to him and climbs on to his lap. Debashish tickles and makes her giggle. “Baba, give me your ears I have secret to tell you” she whispers to him. “What is it shonamuni?” he asks smiling. “I can only tell it in your ears”. Playing along Debashish lowers his ears to her.
“I have made a new friend today. It’s a baby cat and I want you to meet her.”
“Where is she?”
“She is living in the box home near the service lane, on this floor”.
Hearing this Debashish is taken aback. But looking at his daughter’s soulful eyes leaves him with no option but to go along with her.
Riya gets down from his lap and tugs at his hand. He follows her to the box. There he witnesses the bonding between his daughter and her new found friend, which pulls at his heart string. He knows that Riya, being an only child, misses the presence of siblings. And also being an introvert finds it difficult to make friends and mingle with children of her own age. He can make out how she has latched on to this outlet for her loving and caring nature. He knows he should immediately dispose off the cat, since the neighbors might object to it.
“Isn’t she cute, baba?”
“Yes she is”.
“How long will you be keeping her here in that box?”
“I don’t know. But I have just made friends with her. I want to spend more time with her”.
“Shonamuni, have you told ma about this?”
“No”.
“Then how will you be feeding it?”
Riya has no reply to this and she can’t meet her father’s eyes.
“Bringing food from home without telling your mother would be wrong, isn’t it?”
“Yes” she replies hanging her head.
“Look Shona, there is no other way but to setting the cat free to fend for itself. I know how much you want to keep it but it is not possible”.
“Can’t I just keep it and play with it for some more days, baba? Please!” she pleads with tears in her eyes.
Debashish knew from the start that this was going to be a difficult situation to handle.
“Ok. But before you can keep her we have to tell ma about this”.
They together head back to their home. Debashish takes his wife to the bedroom and tells her about the new development and tries to calm her agitation over the matter. After a lot of discussion and negotiation it is finally decided that the kitten can remain on the floor if the neighbors don’t object. They also decide on a few ground rules for Riya’s interaction with the cat. Once a consensus is reached they together explain to Riya the decision, in the best possible manner. At length she seems to be satisfied enough to bestow them with her smile.
Thus begins the days of friendship between Kitty and our little Riya.

Things couldn’t have been any better for Riya. She looked forward to every moment spent with Kitty. Kitty with her mischievous antics had her enthralled. Back in school she proudly narrated to all her friends the wonderful time she has with her kitten.
Mean while back at home Lata is busy with planning the up coming family lunch party that she had organized for the coming Saturday. Riya is all worked up and excited. She absolutely loves family get together, which means lots of activities in the house and fussing over her. And this time around it is going to be extra special since she has Kitty to be introduced to everybody. By Friday evening two of the maternal uncles and their family arrive. Before anything else Riya drags all of them to meet Kitty, since she has been forbidden from bringing the cat into the house.
Next day rest of the family arrives and there are more introductions made. There is happy chaos all around. Its lunch time and in order to accommodate the maximum number of people at a single seating for lunch; the food items have been spread out on the floor. For convenience sake the entrance door has been left wide open. Somehow in the midst of all this no one notices the small kitten which makes its way stealthily towards the mouth watering spread in front of it. Its presence is only felt when Boro Pishi lets out an ear shattering shriek. Everyone runs to the scene of action and finds that the cat has helped itself to the “elish mach”. Lata absolutely goes hysterical with anger and despair over all the wasted efforts. Choto mama tries his best to calm her down and take control of the situation. He instructs the mamis to get down to repairing the damage done in the food department. And immediately a unanimous decision is taken that the cat has to leave the building at once. Hearing this Riya burst into tears and runs to Debashish for assurance and comfort.

But today Debashish is also helpless is salvaging the situation in her favor and the impossibility engulfs them.

All that is salvaged from this are the memories ever entwined with rainy days!


The End

Monday, August 4, 2008

Phobia - Inability to get into my Jeans

Yesterday went shopping for a pair of jeans, not out of fancy but out of sheer need. This is an activity which I dread and which has invariably taken the form of a habitual paradox. The reason behind the paradox is that, though, buying new clothes always has its undeniable pleasure but then while trying out and selecting the jeans I keep wondering about the amount of margin I should leave for the extra fats I may pile up in future, which is so very likely. In the matter of weights I just cannot take my body behavior for granted.
What prompted me to go in search of that perfect fitting pair of jeans is my increased/increasing waist line. I had discovered the need for another new pair when the inevitable happened, the waist button and its hole stubbornly refused to meet and conjoin. No matter how much I coaxed them to do so, by sucking in my bulging stomach and giving them all the room possible, they just wouldn’t. So it was time for me to face the truth, which was staring at my face with evidence, that I had gained sufficient fat to be rejected by my favorite pair of jeans.
This planted the seed of determination to melt the fat away by exercising. Incentive was of course getting back into my jeans and also many additional benefits. But back of my mind, knowing myself, the doubt had also taken up residence that this new found purpose for exercising may be short lived. And my doubt over powered my determination and came out victorious. I started exercising around 6 months later from my day of discovery of the need. And was unable to continue with the regime because the carrot (incentive) dangling in front of me did not look fresh and enticing enough any longer (so this meant it needed rejuvenation).
Happily defeated, for the time being, yesterday I went shopping for jeans. This absolutely doesn’t mean that I have given up on my old pair; I am as hopeful as always and believe in miracles. And as expected I had to face and go along with my life’s habitual paradox, which I have mentioned in the beginning. It sure takes a toll on my decision taking capability. In the end I settled for the most expensive and snug fitting pair of jeans. I was so enticed by the look and feel of those jeans, which made me feel that they were meant for me and no other, that I had no choice but to let caution to the winds. Thus a woman’s vanity, fueled by her husband's admiration, won this round.
But gradually the shopper’s adrenaline rush ended and I was back to reality and that’s when the “inability to get into my jeans” phobia started plaguing me. So the only defense I could call upon was my old buddy “exercise regime”, by virtue of which the chain of events once more kicked off, the end result of which I am so very much familiar with. Thus the wheel of time keeps going!

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Getting Started with Blogging

I welcome myself to the world of blogging! Have been thinking of getting onto this bandwagon for quite sometime. There is no purpose behind this thought as such. This is just my way of exploring my passion for the language - English. Blogging has caught up in a big way with all, who are interested in expressing themselves through words, and I am another addition to that(another brick in the wall). I find blogging one of the most innovative and convenient mode of expression that is available at any body's disposal, who cares to utilize it. I have just started with my exploration and sure am full of anticipation as to what is in store for me as I go along.
Its so strange that though the "blogging" bug has bitten so many all over the world the word "blogging" is still awaiting to be given the status of an English word and get imbibed into the Englishman's dictionary and thus attain its due place in the world of Bristish English. I hope that it is not long before that blogging attains this glory.
Though English is not officially my mother tongue but it has become so unofficially. From childhood I had a strong liking towards it. I have always been an avid reader. If I had my way I would have studied this subject in depth and majored in it. Though I haven't, still aspire to do so someday. I am absolutely fascinated and amazed as to how authors/writers are able to churn out so much of cohesive chains of thoughts and fill pages after pages. They are the people whom I revere the most. For me writing is the crest of all creativity. I want to discover whether the flare for writing is an attribute of nature or nurture. So I guess I do have a purpose behind blogging, after all. Through this medium I have thus started on the quest to discover whether I have it in me what it takes to become a writer or not.