If you aren't aware of it already, I am a big(actually small..eh..bad one) movie buff. If there is a movie which can be watched without death being an eventuality due to its poor quality, I will watch it.
That brings me to the reason why I set about typing this post. The recent one was Final Destination 3. Ok, don't roll your eyes as yet, I know I am three years too late. So what? You really expected me to go watch it in a theater? High hopes(I like that song..ok, focus!)!
The first part was good, the sequel wasn't, yada yada, we all know that. But that's not it. My problem is with the main protagonist in this series. First to set somethings clear -
a.)I don't believe in fate/karma/fortune, the works.
b.)Death to me is end of life, no more, no less. It is similar to the concept of darkness, which is but the lack of light. Similarly, death is the lack of life.
c.)I don't think American teenagers can think so logically. More on this later.
Now that we have established my beliefs or rather the lack of them, let's proceed(give me a chalk piece and my teacher role is achieved). The plot revolves around cheating death. The girl has visions, escapes her death, also rescuing a couple of her friends in the process and cheats it yet again by reading the signs i.e. deciphering the photographs she took.
a.)She is an American teenager. Call me racist but I really don't think solving puzzles is their forte. Had they shown a dorky Indian kid helping them out, I might have bought it.
b.)Gothic influenced kid having a dark side to him, the prick being totally unattractive, could there be any more stereotypes?
c.)Taking it to a personal level, if I discover death is out to get me, I wouldn't sit and fret over how to cheat it. Hey it's the mighty grim reaper we are talking about here. Millions of years of experience versus 23 not so boast worthy years. Can I be so arrogant to think I can win? I would rather finish up my final to do list and pray that the end isn't too painful or embarrassing.
A parting thought-does death grant final wishes? I am sure Johnny Depp wouldn't mind. Oh wait, I think it's Genie I am confusing it with. Never mind.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Burst of inactivity
Did the title make any sense? Or did I just use an oxymoron(I personally love these things)?
Well, been a while since I stepped my virtual foot here. Reasons were galore, ranging from something as lame as laziness, forgetfulness(sometimes I forget I need to update this) to my weekend being taken up by traveling yet again to (ahem) me being busy creating complications in my own life(I don't need any enemies, my foolishness takes up all my time and strength).
So let me think, what updates(ech..I am sounding more and more techie-ish, inspite of barely "working"!)? Ok, I got it. Let me limit this one to tales and recollections of my trip to my native town. I have a love for long narrations(as if you didn't know this already), so I shall stick to points or "data points", as my manager would say(ugh! I need to control myself!).
a.) I love the journey part. Hard as it may seem to believe, I love traveling(you would have never guessed, eh?). Sarcasm aside, the best part(ok, one of the best parts) about it is the ride around western ghats. Till recently, we used to travel by bus, at night, which limited the opportunities to spot beautiful scenery. But thanks to the man who badly needs nose,ear hair trimmers, our current railways minister, now there's a train to it. The train, being new, was spic and span(believe it!) and the route must have been decided by a nature lover(let's not get to the point that the tracks would have been laid out by cutting trees).
Screw the points/bullets idea, I want to blabber. The funny part about this train journey was the nature of our companions in the compartment. Picturise this - four of us from my family, who speak a mixture of Tulu, Kannada, English and Hindi(not necessarily in the same order), switching between them as and when we please. Two purohits, who made sure their caste and line of work was obvious from their attire and who, for some strange reason, were spoken to only in English by the obviously confused Ticket Checker. Many number of nuns, traveling together, who, of course, were attired in their religious garb. For a moment I almost felt like I was in some cheesy scene from a Karan Johar/Subhash Ghai movie. The lack of any irritating background music lay down my fears.
Now comes the tragic bit. I did not have my trusted aide, my digital camera, by my side. The hills outside, with their lush green foliage(it had rained well recently) seemed to mock me at my failure to capture them. All I had was a 2MP cellphone camera(*sigh*). In all of three days, I took just 80 or more pics!
For those of you who haven't lived in/been to coastal areas during summer time, let me tell you this, baby it's hot! By hot I don't just mean sunny, but hot and humid. You sweat so much that you wonder whether there are secret minute taps fitted on the whole of your body. You want to bathe so many times that a buffalo gets inferiority complex. More than a single layer of clothing seems like a punishment/medieval torture(I seriously sympathise with the women who wear saree). I think you get my point.
There were several high points(not referring to getting drunk or climbing up western ghats..duhh) and low points of this trip. High points - everything was so unplanned and all three days, except that one day when we attended the pooja we came for, were spent on beaches. The fact that people refuse to believe I have been working for the past (almost) two years now and still inquire which course I am studying(saves me the cost of anti wrinkle creams and/or plastic surgery). The miracle called growing up, which my cousins are undergoing. Those half ticket beings are much more tolerable now and less whack worthy.
Low points..hmm..let me think. Oh yes, the close call with burns. Point to remember- however uncomfortable or inappropriate a pair of footwear may seem , do not leave them behind thinking you will collect them later. Being the curious, impatient climber that I am, I circled almost half of St Mary's Island barefoot, hopping, jumping while climbing the rocks, sometimes immediately plunging them into the water, to safeguard my tender feet. At the end of it my feet turned a shade of pink matched only by the colour of Paris Hilton's lipstick. I was just hoping desperately that I don't end up with blisters.
I seem to have exceeded my self imposed length of the post. Let me bring this to an end by stating that no matter how much I love that temple town and its culture, one thing I have hated and will continue to do so is the disgusting, retch worthy smell of fish, fresh or dried out in the sun. Yuck!
Well, been a while since I stepped my virtual foot here. Reasons were galore, ranging from something as lame as laziness, forgetfulness(sometimes I forget I need to update this) to my weekend being taken up by traveling yet again to (ahem) me being busy creating complications in my own life(I don't need any enemies, my foolishness takes up all my time and strength).
So let me think, what updates(ech..I am sounding more and more techie-ish, inspite of barely "working"!)? Ok, I got it. Let me limit this one to tales and recollections of my trip to my native town. I have a love for long narrations(as if you didn't know this already), so I shall stick to points or "data points", as my manager would say(ugh! I need to control myself!).
a.) I love the journey part. Hard as it may seem to believe, I love traveling(you would have never guessed, eh?). Sarcasm aside, the best part(ok, one of the best parts) about it is the ride around western ghats. Till recently, we used to travel by bus, at night, which limited the opportunities to spot beautiful scenery. But thanks to the man who badly needs nose,ear hair trimmers, our current railways minister, now there's a train to it. The train, being new, was spic and span(believe it!) and the route must have been decided by a nature lover(let's not get to the point that the tracks would have been laid out by cutting trees).
Screw the points/bullets idea, I want to blabber. The funny part about this train journey was the nature of our companions in the compartment. Picturise this - four of us from my family, who speak a mixture of Tulu, Kannada, English and Hindi(not necessarily in the same order), switching between them as and when we please. Two purohits, who made sure their caste and line of work was obvious from their attire and who, for some strange reason, were spoken to only in English by the obviously confused Ticket Checker. Many number of nuns, traveling together, who, of course, were attired in their religious garb. For a moment I almost felt like I was in some cheesy scene from a Karan Johar/Subhash Ghai movie. The lack of any irritating background music lay down my fears.
Now comes the tragic bit. I did not have my trusted aide, my digital camera, by my side. The hills outside, with their lush green foliage(it had rained well recently) seemed to mock me at my failure to capture them. All I had was a 2MP cellphone camera(*sigh*). In all of three days, I took just 80 or more pics!
For those of you who haven't lived in/been to coastal areas during summer time, let me tell you this, baby it's hot! By hot I don't just mean sunny, but hot and humid. You sweat so much that you wonder whether there are secret minute taps fitted on the whole of your body. You want to bathe so many times that a buffalo gets inferiority complex. More than a single layer of clothing seems like a punishment/medieval torture(I seriously sympathise with the women who wear saree). I think you get my point.
There were several high points(not referring to getting drunk or climbing up western ghats..duhh) and low points of this trip. High points - everything was so unplanned and all three days, except that one day when we attended the pooja we came for, were spent on beaches. The fact that people refuse to believe I have been working for the past (almost) two years now and still inquire which course I am studying(saves me the cost of anti wrinkle creams and/or plastic surgery). The miracle called growing up, which my cousins are undergoing. Those half ticket beings are much more tolerable now and less whack worthy.
Low points..hmm..let me think. Oh yes, the close call with burns. Point to remember- however uncomfortable or inappropriate a pair of footwear may seem , do not leave them behind thinking you will collect them later. Being the curious, impatient climber that I am, I circled almost half of St Mary's Island barefoot, hopping, jumping while climbing the rocks, sometimes immediately plunging them into the water, to safeguard my tender feet. At the end of it my feet turned a shade of pink matched only by the colour of Paris Hilton's lipstick. I was just hoping desperately that I don't end up with blisters.
I seem to have exceeded my self imposed length of the post. Let me bring this to an end by stating that no matter how much I love that temple town and its culture, one thing I have hated and will continue to do so is the disgusting, retch worthy smell of fish, fresh or dried out in the sun. Yuck!
Saturday, May 3, 2008
How I wish..
How I wish I was a dumb girl. Seriously, not kidding here. By dumb, I don't mean retarded, that would have been cruel and sad, both for me and my family. By dumb I mean thick headed, you know, low IQ, "I don't get it" type.
Life is so rosy to such people. Even if it's not, they always make it, somehow. They imagine and live in a world which is so different from the one we currently occupy(and are in the process of defiling), that every day may seem so fresh and beautiful and every experience, something to cherish.
Childhood would be a piece of cake. Just smile, be sweet and not fail. What else could your parents expect from you. No matter how much a parent dreams for their child, in their heart they know the true potential too. So they would know you are not the "doctor material" and not even try to force you into academics. "Oh well, as long as she is polite to the guests, we shouldn't worry too much", I have seen such content parents with my very own eyes.
Teenage? Don't even get me started counting the no. of advantages such girls have. You don't even have to be gorgeous or super hot. Know how to manage to look relatively OK and you have it. They are so much in love with the idea of love, that getting hold of "Mr. Perfect" is as easy as playing hopscotch(I miss that game sometimes).
A few guys here and there, a few switches later, and you are into adulthood. Since you never exactly excelled in studies, no one expects you to do anything on your own, be capable of earning a livinghood or make a name for yourself in the cut throat, competitive world of what we (sometimes wrongly) refer to as professionals. In case Mr. Perfect found himself another Ms. Perfect, your parents are ready with a groom, someone(anyone actually) who has enough bank balance to keep you happy for the rest of your life. You wouldn't know what is right for you and in any case you wouldn't sweat over it, after all, as long as he keeps you dolled up, life should be a bed of roses right?
No career to worry about, no pressures and most importantly, no decisions to make, personal or professional. Just leave it for someone else to do, someone more reliable than you, someone who knows what is best, someone who would weigh the pros and cons, someone who would lose their sleep over it, not you.
Oh yes, that would have been fine, quite fine.
Life is so rosy to such people. Even if it's not, they always make it, somehow. They imagine and live in a world which is so different from the one we currently occupy(and are in the process of defiling), that every day may seem so fresh and beautiful and every experience, something to cherish.
Childhood would be a piece of cake. Just smile, be sweet and not fail. What else could your parents expect from you. No matter how much a parent dreams for their child, in their heart they know the true potential too. So they would know you are not the "doctor material" and not even try to force you into academics. "Oh well, as long as she is polite to the guests, we shouldn't worry too much", I have seen such content parents with my very own eyes.
Teenage? Don't even get me started counting the no. of advantages such girls have. You don't even have to be gorgeous or super hot. Know how to manage to look relatively OK and you have it. They are so much in love with the idea of love, that getting hold of "Mr. Perfect" is as easy as playing hopscotch(I miss that game sometimes).
A few guys here and there, a few switches later, and you are into adulthood. Since you never exactly excelled in studies, no one expects you to do anything on your own, be capable of earning a livinghood or make a name for yourself in the cut throat, competitive world of what we (sometimes wrongly) refer to as professionals. In case Mr. Perfect found himself another Ms. Perfect, your parents are ready with a groom, someone(anyone actually) who has enough bank balance to keep you happy for the rest of your life. You wouldn't know what is right for you and in any case you wouldn't sweat over it, after all, as long as he keeps you dolled up, life should be a bed of roses right?
No career to worry about, no pressures and most importantly, no decisions to make, personal or professional. Just leave it for someone else to do, someone more reliable than you, someone who knows what is best, someone who would weigh the pros and cons, someone who would lose their sleep over it, not you.
Oh yes, that would have been fine, quite fine.
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