Quotes!

"Her laundry line is a litany. Blouse, button-ripped. Skirt, stubborn-stained. Underwear for the    affairs. They rustle in the wind like rumor."

Mynaa Mynaa

Mynaa Mynaa Nenjukkulla Vambu Panaraa
Mynaa Mynaa Enna Solla Enna Kollura

Sollupulla Enna Aachu.. Sollaamalae Maraikkaatha..

Nenjumela Kaiyavachu, Kannaala Nee Sirikkaatha

Enna Marantha, Thalli Irunthida Thuninjathu Sariyaa Sariyaa?

Thannanthaniyae Enna Thavippula Erinjathen Muraiya Muraiyaa??

Enakkethum Puriyavae Illa Bathil Paesa Varuviyaa?

Mynaa Mynaa…

P.S The only time I wasn't too bothered about the fact the singer can't pronounce the "na" sound properly. It actually gives a certain feel to the song ;)

Introspection 1

I read an article today. It was witty, funny, crisp and very well written.

Reading that, I realized what exactly it is that my articles have. 

Length.

I always enlarge one theme after another, striving to give an explanation when none is required. Every sentence is linked to a para, every para to page, every page to an entry and so on. 

I think I do this because I want everyone who reads it to get the story in exactly my point of view. 

When am I going to realize that the true beauty of a line lies in the multiple meanings that one can derive?

Trans lingual haunts - 1

Damn gult tune won't stop ringing in my ears - Catch it here if you like.

A close second - Watch this one with subs for an enhanced experience :?)

Cross my heart and hope to die..
That I only stay with you one more night...
 Here it is.

A new favourite! Don't miss it.

Right on! I'mma do it acapella..


#addicted

English Vinglish

Given the hype surrounding this movie, I was damn sure that I would not like it. But seriously, it’s worth every bit of praise that it has harnessed.

What a performance by Sridevi and what a role given by the director. Finally, we see a mature treatment of a traditional Indian Bahu who is sensible enough to understand what exactly is wrong with her spouse and is not so soppy as to keep forgiving him for it. Did this wow you? Wait a minute. She is the realistic mother too. She adores her kids, true dat... but not to the extent that she is blind to the atrocities they commit. 

The movie showcases the journey of Sashi, a simple homemaker with a brilliant talent for making ladoos (she was born only to make ladoos as her husband puts it). She has no knowledge of English and is constantly mocked for the fact by her family, and her life in India suddenly shifts to Manhattan where she gets her self-respect back.

I like the movie for a lot of reasons. I respect the way Sashi realizes the unconscious abuse that she is being subjected to. I like the portrayal of the actor playing the role of her husband who keeps mocking her in a way that it would be impossible for anyone to pinpoint it to him. Of course, the behavior is unintentional, but that’s exactly the point. Each and every one of us tends to take Sashi’s role as well as her husband’s in our lives, but we stay unaware of the fact.  And I totally love the fact that ignorance of the English language is not the main point but the under confidence that you develop when those near you don’t believe in you is. And all hail thee, oh director for passing on all these without preaching.

To those who think the above para is just a load of philosophical bosh, let me give one convincing reason for me to rave about this movie. The French guy. As I’m not the story writer, I wasn’t able to make Sashi divorce her husband and elope with this French dude but anyway I can live with that for now. Do such sweet guys even exist in reality? Maybe, maybe not. Oh ya and I cried during the café scene where she tries to order her lunch. Badly. But the movie made me realize a few things. Love does exist. The deep feeling when you’re completely helpless but some person who doesn’t have to help you, rescues you from the situation anyhow, that feeling of pure gratitude, and respect is what I call love.  The mutual respect and encouragement that you give to one another is what I call comradeship and it exists! I want to shout from the tallest building, ‘It exists, it exists, and it exists!!!’ And the best part is, it is by definition momentary, not permanent. So trying to make it work when you know it’s not going to is futile. 

Apart from these meta-physical outbursts of enlightenment, I did have a few disappointments. Like Sridevi’s voice! (What on earth happened to it?) Her dialogues and feeling of guilt when her son gets hurt and she blames herself. The few scenes where they try to capture the Mind Your Language magic. The fake accent of her niece. Too much stereotyping of the Tam guy.

But these are so minor that the movie is intact in my opinion and flying better than ever.

All I can say now is,

Thank you… for making me feel good about myself.

The Emperor's New Groove

I know I am a sucker for animated movies. But believe me when I say, that the Emperor's.... is one of the most amazing ones.

Being basically a hand drawn animated movie, it wows you with the amazing display of skill in the presentation. Kuzco's sovereign features true to the Eygptian pharoah is just as brilliant as Pacha's simple, honest peasant face. The voice and the face somehow blend together to give the effect that is so absent even when real people act in the films. I have been saving the best part for the last. The dialogues! One of the very few movies that is truly funny! The one-liners are amazing! Kronk deserves a special mention, as do Pacha's wife and children! I was extremely impressed to see that they avoided the traditional cliche of having a female mate for the Emperor. Of course, he was great enough on his own :?)

I somehow feel that I have messed up writing this review and people reading this might actually get prejudiced against the movie. But establishing that I really really really loved it on print is worth this risk!! :D

Emperor! I love your groove.. ;)

Ignore

Resurrected wreck? Ah what bliss!

I've been searching for inspiration everywhere. In the parks, woods, music, books, words, cinema.. Even within myself. It just doesn't happen. Sure, something manages to give me brief passion and emotion. But these are almost always extremely short lived. Dying out in the same fizz that they had erupted. Nothing ever makes me belong. I can calmly and dispassionately view things and be completely unmoved.

The problem is, there is a secret longing lurching in my soul that somehow someone or something would rekindle my fire. This state of disinterest irritates me but prevents me from actually doing anything. I just mourn the loss of my interest and grumble and go into fantasy-land. What is wrong with me? Why am I unable to focus, dream or at least show decent enthusiasm that my peers seem to be infinitely capable of irrespective of my snobbish nature telling me that I am better? I cannot but foretell gloomily that it's going to be this way for a long time.

Hmmm.. Hopefully I can talk myself out of this urge for public attention so that I can be content with the passivity that I'm doomed to endure.

Potential. That's all I'm going to be, I guess.