It's not just a Movie

Sometimes, you just like a movie because that one dialogue, that one scene, that one song was about you, about something special to you. That moment when you don’t see the actors, you don’t hear their voices, you just feel what you felt then, and then you don’t need a reason to like that movie, it becomes special, because it had that little bit of you. A single sentence, a small gesture is all it takes and then, you're not just watching a movie.

It is a Movie, Relax.

Disclaimer: I think this has spoilers.

Some.One liked the movie, Some.One didn't. Why is Every.One going crazy fighting on my newsfeed? :|

I happen to like Ra.One and contrary to popular belief it is not because of my undying love for Shahrukh but because I happened to enjoy the movie for what it was. Yes, there were corny scenes, pathetic PJ’s and redundant scenes, but, I didn’t expect it to be a mathematical proof of a movie. In my case even that has corny tricks, redundant statements and pathetic attempts at a solution. Anyways, that is besides the point. The point is that this is one movie that is visually brilliant and yet is purely Bollywood, and I am excited about that. I am a superhero movie buff usually, and I appreciate the fact that although Stan Lee and the likes have made it impossibly difficult to come up with something original and likeable, these guys have really pulled it off.

I liked the concept of the game, but I wish they had explored it more, made it more God Of War-like instead of the 8 bit Mortal Kombat style that they've used. I liked the scenes between Shekhar and his son and then the kid with G.One, although I’d have liked it more if the corny-ness had been toned down. I really like the scene where Ra.One witnesses Dusshera and I cheered and clapped for G.One and Chitti.


This isn’t on my favourite movie list, not at all, but I enjoyed it. I am sure there is a section of the junta that wouldn’t, I think there is always one such section. But, I don’t understand why people are taking extreme stances, especially on facebook, twitter. It is like people are trying to declare it a Hit or a Flop by their status updates, but if ‘Ready’ and ‘Kambakht Ishq’ are bigger blockbusters than ‘Rang De Basanti’, ‘Swades’  or ‘Jaaneman’, then who cares? I saw the IMDB vote trend for Ra.One, most people have given it a 1/10 or 10/10, seems like people have a personal agenda to make it flop or a blockbuster.  

I expect a lot of people to not like this movie, mostly SRK-haters and people who  want to watch ‘serious meaningful cinema’.  Well, if you’re in either category then the advertisements and marketing are enough to give you a Caveat, then why go for it and waste your money at all? I expected the movie to be a little silly, corny but with good visual effects and a lot of Shahrukh. I got silly and corny alright, but I also got a lot of Shahrukh and pretty amazing effects.

I usually do not analyse movies, I either like them or not like them, or sometimes just keep on delaying watching them, but the constant status updates which are more like violent defenses or even more violent threats were beginning to really irritate me.

If you hate SRK after all these years, you will not suddenly start liking him after this movie, don’t go for it. If you like SRK, you probably will like it, worth a shot. If the hero is not important but ‘serious meaningful cinema’ is, don’t go for it. If you have time and money and want to see a light movie with seriously commendable visual effects, go for it. If you’ve seen the movie and you like it, good for you. If you’ve seen the movie and don’t like it, get over it.

As for me, I had fun.

I Wonder...

Considering what we know is so little and what we don’t know so much, one would think the latter to be that much more powerful. Yet usually it is the other way round.

I remember Grandma telling me once that reincarnation exists, that we start with the smallest, the most apparently insignificant of organisms, and ultimately earn the honour, the prize of being reincarnated as a human. Come to think of it, isn’t it amazingly close to the concept of Evolution? Moving on from single-celled organisms to Human Beings? Of course each theory has its own set of assumptions, fallacies and merits which I cannot even begin to analyze, let alone dispute, due to my lack of knowledge thereof. Yet, I cannot help but notice the central idea being common to both. Entirely opposing ideas, yet so close in their essence, fascinating.

During a discussion with a friend, I remember asking, “Ohkay, maybe Mahabharata did really happen, but, hundred Kauravas born from earthen pots, really? Or people on flying chariots? Arrows that burst in flames, or lightning as a weapon, how can one explain any of this?” The reply I got has kind of stuck on, it never fails to amaze me. “These are literary interpretations, that got distorted or exaggerated due to a multitude of reasons over many, many years; but think about it: What if technology at that time had advanced to stages where the Kauravas were born as test tube babies? What if the earthen pots were indeed the “test tubes” of that time? What if, some sort of airplanes had been invented then that were seen as flying chariots? What if they had made weapons using explosives that appeared as arrows that spit fire and what if they had made weapons that harnessed electricity to attack? Technology doesn’t only need to be invented but also sustained, maybe for various social, natural or economic reasons these could not be sustained or spread out.”

When I was in the fourth standard, we were being taught about our Solar System. A statement was made: “Life on Earth exists as it is the only planet in our Solar System with optimal conditions for life.” I stood up and asked what the word optimal meant, I had guessed it from the context, yet I needed to confirm before I could ask the question that had struck me instantly. On being satisfied that my guess was correct I asked, “What if there are aliens that do not need the same things as us to survive? What if they need something else in place of oxygen or water? What if they need the extreme cold or extreme hot temperatures? Life outside the Earth need not be the same as on Earth. So why look for water or oxygen to confirm life outside? Maybe they really don’t need that, maybe even if they exist we cannot see them, they might be made of something that is invisible to us.” Some of my friends started giggling, and my class teacher smiled and said, “Priyanka, you really need to watch less of Cartoon Network.” And the discussion ended. Well, maybe all that I had said did really stem from excess of cartoons and storybooks, and maybe it doesn’t really make much sense; but till now, the confusion stays on. Why do we equate everything else to what we know? Why do facts have to fall within our domain to be rendered credible? Why would an alien have to need oxygen, or water or a temperature acceptable to us?

All this is speculation, but what is to say that it holds no truth? If certain stories, myths or yet-to-be-accepted-ideas have stood the test of time, surely they deserve some faith. Faith, as opposed to superstition or cynicism. Wouldn’t life be so much simpler if we realized that absence of evidence is not evidence of absence? If we could accept that there are things we don’t know or don’t understand. If we look at new ideas with wonder than with resistance? One doesn’t need to just accept whatever one is told, that’d be downright stupid, but being stubborn about your opinion no matter what isn’t much better either.

Of course I have my own set of beliefs, opinions and ideas. But so does my neighbour and their neighbour and so on. Who am I to decide they are wrong? Similarly, who are they to decide that either?

The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing.  

– Albert Einstein

P.S.: There is so much more I could write about this, but some other time, for now, I must get back to “Reality”. Till then, some food for thought: We usually judge people as smart on the basis of what they know, yet geniuses have an indisputable track record of being those who went about looking for what they didn’t know. So long!

The Green Bookshelf And The Gulmohar Tree

Holding papa’s hand as tightly as I could, I entered the gates and instantly fell in love with the huge gulmohar tree in the garden, the basketball courts, the creamy sunlight washed walls and the pristine church that stood tall and beautiful.  Then I saw all the children, lined up for assembly. Was I late? Papa told me to go stand in the line and I thought my feet were stuck to the ground they shivered on. He nudged me gently to go ahead. I looked at all the other kids, laughing, fighting, talking or just standing, would they like me? What if I made no friends? I looked back at papa, trying very hard not to let the tears spill that blurred everything. He smiled and said, “You’re a big girl, aren’t you? Do you wan’t to be late on your first day?” I looked down at my shiny black ballerina shoes and shook my head the tiniest bit and trudged along to where everyone stood. Then, halfway through I realized, I didn’t know which line to stand in! I turned to see whether papa was still standing there, and the relief that washed over me was too much to handle. I burst out crying, as loudly as I could. At once papa was there to hold me and comfort me as I tried to control my sobs and not drench his shirt. He held my hand, asked a girl where I was supposed to stand, she led us there and papa hunched on his knees and asked me if I would be fine and not cry? As much as I wanted to howl my lungs out, I agreed and gave him a watery smile. He kissed me and went back to stand near the small gate, as I learnt to call it later on, and waited as the assembly began.

We said prayers that I had never heard of and sang hymns which everyone knew except for me. Throughout the service I kept opening my eyes to check if papa was still standing there and much to my relief he was. Finally the service ended, for the first time I learned how to cross, and soon we began filing out for class. As I entered the building which looked so calm yet vibrant I saw papa, he smiled, waved at me and left, I held back the silly tears that just wouldn’t stay in and entered my classroom. Class II Section I. The classroom was a different world in itself, softboards with colourful charts and posters, cute wall hangings and flowers on the teacher’s desk, tiny little wooden tables and matching chairs arranged in random clusters for the students. I chose the one at the furthest corner, near the teacher’s desk and the near a green bookshelf. Story books? In a classroom?  Soon the class teacher entered, she introduced herself as Mrs. Fernandez, and then introduced me to the rest of the class. I fidgeted a little at all the sudden attention and then quietly sat in my place.  Another girl entered with her mom, she was a little late. She had no place to sit, I offered her to share my desk and I made my first friend in Loreto House.  After that, the day just flew by. At two O’ clock when papa came, I ran to him and hugged him and told him how wonderful my teacher was, how many friends I’d made, how I’d found a book about a ballerina in the bookshelf in my class and how I wanted to be one too when I grew up.

It was that green bookshelf that introduced me to the wonders of reading, the classes in the small hall that made me realize that I could dance, the piano that accompanied my most disastrous attempts at singing, the stage in the big hall that made me want to be on it, my little desk where I learnt how to unpack my world for the day, the canteen where we yelled for that one plate of chow, the basketball courts which witnessed everything from my futile attempts at basketball to my beloved dance practice, from lock and key to the dreaded Day 4 marching sessions, the corridors where we’d stand and talk about crushes and homework, or where we’d sit in groups and make charts, projects or masterpieces in art and craft, the zero periods and the celebrations, the house meetings and the zillion events, the teachers who taught me almost everything I know today and who gave us the best ever Children’s day celebrations. Loreto House went from being the scary new school to my entire world. Although I’ve moved on and miss it like crazy, it was the place with which I fell in love with as soon as I laid my eyes on that gorgeous Gulmohar tree in the garden, and it is the place which will always be home.

Some Time, With Me

As they say, a lot really can happen over coffee. It was the first time today that I ventured into a café all by myself, I’d never really felt the need to visit one alone. After a dreary day at office and the dangerous few minutes of battling the crazy Hyderabad traffic, the café looked much too enticing, also a little chocolate wouldn’t hurt before another crazy struggle to find an auto. So, after wasting a lot of time thinking about whether I was really that hungry or should I just go home, I decided, no, I felt like eating that chocolate pastry and company or no company, I would have it. I walked in, and felt as if everyone had stopped eating, talking and serving to stare at me and say, “Alone? Don’t you have any friends?” But, then as soon as the stupidity of that thought struck me, I realized, that nobody really cared apart from the desperate few who would have reacted in the same way to anything female, alone or in a group. So, I chose the seat near the glass wall. The one that overlooked the bustling street, perhaps due to some ingrained need to seek company.

I chose my dessert from a tempting assortment of ice creams, cakes and puddings, and waited for it patiently, while I contemplated calling someone and speaking over the phone. The phone kept ringing, and I realized that it was for the better, since it would defile the novelty of the entire experience of sitting by myself in a café, in a city that isn’t home. Contrary to popular belief, as much as I adore talking, there are times when I enjoy silence, while walking home, reading or perhaps while writing like this. Never had I experienced the same in this way though. There was a couple who seemed pretty strange. They weren’t talking to each other, the girl was drinking her coffee and the guy was just looking at her, she looked at him over her cup every now and then, giggled and then went back to concentrating on her coffee, while the guy just kept looking at her. Then there was this guy, alone like me, yet he had his laptop and was busy reading something while gulping down his can of diet coke. While I was busy doing nothing, observing the other occupants, I felt at peace, somehow relishing the fact that although good company is always welcome, my own isn't half that bad.

My treat arrived and I smiled at the waiter, he looked a bit surprised and then suddenly, genuinely happy. He hurried back to the kitchen and then came back with a little bowl of extra chocolate sauce, and said that it was complimentary, or so I understood, I’m yet to get hold of much Telugu. So, I smiled back and enjoyed all the sinful yet devastatingly delicious chocolate. Pardon the superlatives, but chocolate does that to me. Instead of it being a hurried snack that I had expected, I realized, that I could actually enjoy my dessert for what it was; I wasn’t talking to anyone, the only thing on my mind was that this was a slice of time that I was spending with just me, I enjoyed every spoonful thoroughly and after making sure none of the chocolate sauce was wasted, I ordered the check.

While I was waiting for it, two boys strolled in; both apparently seemed to be delighted at my sight, although not in the irritating, desperate way. I ignored them, till I saw that they sat in a table opposite mine, and one of them took out a pencil and started drawing something on a pad. It was some moments later that I noticed him intently looking at my face every now and then and drawing that I realized that I was being sketched! Luckily, the waiter came with the check and I began hurrying out. I have always wanted to have my portrait done, a silly fantasy of sorts, but this seemed a little strange, especially after my little alone time. All the sudden attention perhaps unnerved me, the boy looked sad at my hurried exit, and he called out, “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you!” I just smiled and left, although a part of me really wanted to see the sketch, whatever had been achieved in those few minutes. Exuberant Innocence and Experienced Caution fought over the urge, Caution won.

Out in the scorching heat and crazy traffic, the recent strange little moments were temporarily forgotten as I looked for an auto, and after interminable minutes finally found one. On the way back, while I was trying to inch away from this woman, who was for some reason trying to throw me out of the auto, I realized, that even though the time I spent at the café was pretty ordinary, it was still something that I was thinking about during the trip back home, and something that I just had to write about.

If You Want To Be Happy, Be.

Devdas:“Babuji ne kaha gaon chhor do,
sabne kahaa Paro ko chhor do,
Paro ne kahaa sharaab chhor do,
aaj tumne keh diya, haveli chhor do,
ek din aayega jab wo kahenge, duniya hi chhor do.”

Azel: Sunni toh hai nahi kisi kii, bewakoof toh ho hi. Jo chahe karo, bas rona chhor do. 

At one point you realize that it really doesn’t matter, does it? I mean ok, things didn’t go your way, but then they usually don’t! When they do, usually, it’s a disappointment, so I guess by default we’re programmed to feel bad/sad/greedy/blah. I guess it is left to our faculties to decide and program our brain (yes, we all possess one even though most forget to use it!) to make us feel happy, et cetera. No matter what the problem is, that point does come at least once when one realizes that it wasn’t just worth all the drama. It came even for Devdas, but he was too drunk to realize it or perhaps the music at Chandramukhi’s place a tad too loud to contemplate his stupidity, who knows! I mean, wouldn’t it have been a ton better to have either run away with Paro or to have, just you know like, enjoyed all his dad’s money or even just made use of his fancy degree from London or some place and gotten a job or something? But no, apparently getting drunk and dying was better. In retrospect however, even he would have realized that everyone else seemed to have managed fine without all the drama. Chandramukhi kept dancing, Paro kept being married or whatever.

Look at it this way, why do we become sad? Guess, coz well, we are not happy. Ok, fair enough. But, then doesn’t being sad, make us even less happy and eventually sadder? So, basically being sad just makes us sad, so why be sad? OK. Wait, not helping.  Let us look at it in a less idiotic way, whatever we feel and all is basically just a set chemical reactions and electrical impulses, sent by our brain. Our brain functions according to well, our brain! So, if we choose to look at the good things, if we decide to move on and be happy, we will. Logically and practically, no one can stop that. So, don’t choose to be sad. Simple. Well, there is this little voice that usually pokes its nose to point out that, you know things didn’t go your way and all. Here’s what you do, tell Mr. Goody Two-Shoes to help, if it can then good enough, if it can’t well, you really can’t do much about it, can you? So, move on, ignore the pestering little, little voice and choose to be happy, start afresh.

Once in a while it does us good to remind ourselves that this is probably our only chance at life, and even if reincarnation and all does exist, this is our only chance at life as we know it, so why ruin it for something that is nothing in comparison in the long run? No matter how pathetic or miserable you are, trust me you’ve got a better life than most people. You at least have internet connection and the idle time to read this post, which says nothing new or even remotely entertaining. So, just be happy and stop whining, coz for a change you really do get to choose, so why not make a choice that you’ll actually like? I mean really, I never understood why Devdas didn’t take Paro with him if he really was leaving his dad and home and his weird bhabhi and all. Paro’s mom had actually permitted her to run away with him. H-e-l-l-o? Here is this woman allowing her daughter to elope with you and you run away to Chunni Babu? Really? Truth is, we usually choose to be stupid and sad, when being smart and happy is equally simple. 

A moment lasts all of a second, but the memory lives on forever.

" Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves a shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me."

It wasn't born this day, but it hadn't been real till then; though it isn't real till now, yet it lives on somehow. 

*inner peace* =)