Melancholy...and Endless-ness

For a long time now, I have believed that I belong to the category of people who are easily vanquished by the sadness in a song, a book or a movie... rather than the happiness. Sometimes, it almost feels like the happiness imparted by a medium like that is fleeting, but the sadness is not. The sadness tugs at your sleeve, throws an invisible blanket around your heart, leaves you staring into nothingness through misty eyes...and eventually, remains in your mind with that big sigh you heave in that long breath. Its like a melancholic breeze...that lingers...that follows you.

Most of mankind has been designed to constantly adapt. How else do we deal with loss? With change? How else do we live on? That's why we learn to get comfortable...to embrace the unexpected...to find happiness in what we have, and be thankful for it. That's why we have the ability to see layers of complexity in an issue sometimes, but smile at the real simplicity of it all, some other time. And so it shall be, that the people we know, and love, will remain both our lucid waters, and our unsolvable puzzles... and this was beautifully depicted in two movies, in very different ways.

Aniruddha Roy Chowdry's Antaheen and Aparna Sen's The Japanese Wife. The only two Bengali movies I have watched till date... both telling stories of relationships...and how their complexity, or the absence of it, can depend solely on the people involved.

Antaheen, set in the backdrop of busy (or not-so-busy) lives in a city, beautifully depicts a scenario alot of people may be able to relate to today... an outward facade of acceptance, with an inherent knowledge that one is in denial...is living a farce. The Japanese wife is like an intricate painting of life in different shades of grey...each brush stroke depicting helplessness and poverty...and yet, amazing simplicity. It is mildly teasing to realise the striking similarities amidst all the differences. One movie depicts marriage as a complex web of perspectives...and misunderstandings...the answer being separation. The second movie on the other hand portrays how simple a marriage could be, if all that matters is an understanding, and all that is required is an acknowledgement. The first movie outlines the complexity of relationships through a young couple conversing through the internet, clearly in love, hesitating to reveal their identities or their feelings to each other, for the fear of losing it all... while the second movie asserts the possible simplicity of relationships by telling a story of two people who for sheer love, marry each other through letters, and remain so till the end. However, both movies tell of endless waits...for love. And how sometimes we wait a tad too long... and its all gone.

In Antaheen, the melancholy is of people... caught in the web of their thoughts. In Aparna Sen's brave, independent outside... and an inside yearning to go back to her separated husband, who now portrays himself to be cynical and bitter... In Sharmila Tagore's life of singlehood, brought about by phone conversations that suddenly stopped... In Rahul Bose's and Radhika Apte's solace in strangers...In the orange kite, stuck in the antenna... In the wait, that almost ended... but didn't. In the sad truth that life goes on... and if we wait too long, we learn to live with the losses...and the memories the breeze brings.

In the Japanese wife, the melancholy is three fold. There's poverty, helplessness, and... people. There's melancholy in the beauty of the Matla river...and in its unfortunate potential for destruction...there's melancholy in the simplicity of the marriage that binds two quiet, shy people... In a widow's attempt to conceal her beauty, her feelings, her fears... In a poor man's quest to cure the cancer eating his wife...a wife he has never laid eyes on...There's melancholy in the Japanese woman clad in a white saree, holding a white umbrella, showing the world her shaved head...her symbol of devotion to her dead husband... the one she loved, and lived to see... but as fate would have it, never saw. Melancholy... in the japanese kites flying high in the blue indian skies... In a pair of hand-knitted socks that imparted snug happiness...

Thus continues my endless liking for such movies... some melancholy...some bitter-sweet-ness... some smiles... but finally, a blank stare... an irony... a realisation that everything... is personal.

Ajo ache gopon, Pherari mon…
Beje gechhe kakhon, Se telephone…

(The wild escaping mind is still concealed...
When has that telephone ever rung?)

Ps: Please feel free to correct that Bengali translation... I got it off the net :)

Yours " Class...."ly
Signing off...

Up-Bringing

“Its all in the upbringing...” I’d hear people say...all around me. And slowly, I started believing it as well... and I would find myself passing comments like “a well brought-up kid!”. Sheesh, wonder how old one can rightfully be to pass comments like that ;) Thank heavens there aren’t such restrictions! I can almost hear a number of people I know saying “molachu moonu yelai vidala, adhukula pesara pecha paaru!” But coming back to the point, or trying not to lose perspective (!), I think I did, and I still do believe that a large part of one’s personality is directly or indirectly related to how he/she has been brought up... in most cases, directly. In my case, definitely, directly.

Maybe I’m thinking about this because of the exponential rise in my watching TV shows (fiction, and true life stories) on how a child’s “growing-up” environment affects the mental state, and what sort conditions result in serial killers and psychopaths (sigh, this, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you haven’t watched TV for over a year, and are suddenly re-introduced to it! The madness, I tell you, is very amusing!). Apart from realising how nice it is to have some form of entertainment, its made me feel...lucky. I think at some point, its important for us to reflect upon how smooth things have actually been, relative to so many other people’s lives... so maybe sometimes, we should stop thinking about our share of problems (which I should say, each person will always have!) and just be thankful...and say a little prayer.

So, I, for one, could now take a deep breath, and think about my “Rasna-kudumi” days, where I assume, I must have hopped, skipped and jumped around with a fountain-like ponytail emanating from the very centre of my skull, and a flowery frock, frilly and lacy, with a belt fastened in a bow at the back, in an attempt to give a neat appearance. Of course I am currently leaving out the opposite scenario where-in my frock would be gloriously soiled with the belt undone (as my shoe laces are these days!), and my fountain ponytail would be pushed to one side, my arms and feet would be as dirty as could get, and probably, the cherry on the cream would be a dripping nose from a cold...AND I’d run home to ammmmmaaaaaa, crying, with insect bites everywhere, knowing a tad too well that the ultimate question would come any moment – “Mannu la yaaru vilayada sonnadhu?” But the darlings that mothers are, they know what to ignore and what to take care of, and thusly, the crocodile tears shall be promptly ignored, as it could never be more evident that those rivers flowing down the little devil’s cheeks are but a facade to escape reprimands, but the insect bites shall be taken care of with ointment, and if severity persists – Avil! Such were the good old days ;). And such, is the judgement of mothers.

So today, I can think about it all on a day-to-day basis, and smile about it... I can think of all the hours my mom would have spent trying to shove rasam saadam down my throat when i now make rasam... I can think of how I abstained from lemon rice for years together, after the ‘good old days’ when a younger (perhaps, cuter!) me, used to call it ‘elipili saadam’... until Brisbane brought me back to it, in the name of convenience! I can think of the times I first started chopping vegetables to help in the kitchen, and how I still follow those techniques to the tiniest detail, and so many other small things that we don’t pay much attention to...and we hardly ever realise that we do them in that particular way because we were taught that way... and we were taught in such way, and at such a time in our lives, that it just got into our heads and never left... sort of like the person who taught you all that has left a permament imprint in your life, and you take it wherever you go, and it forever reminds you of them.

And then there’s the other side... the way you look at the world, the way you are with people... one’s priorities and things close to heart... one could argue that a large part of such things is determined by your peer group, your mentors, and the likes. Well... I believe it all starts at home... and everything is just a direct or an indirect result of it. Ultimately, wherever in the world you are, that’s where you go back to... family.

So... it IS all in the upbringing, isn’t it?

If you were conscious about the possibility that your actions and reactions reflect upon your upbringing, would you strive to be better? To give back to your parents what they’ve given you? To make them proud when they hear your praises from the world? To allow them to feel a warm glow about having done the right things for you? To give them peace of mind that they did good, and they can now sit back and watch what you do with your kids?

I would. Not because I think its some sort of obligation or duty I have to fulfil... but because I think they deserve the best. And, truly, its not very difficult to make people happy... So, why not do what you can?
So now... i’ll do what I said we should do... say a little prayer, and be thankful...

Happy Birthday amma ...




Yours “Uyirum neeye...Udalum neeye...Uravum neeye, thaaye” ly
Signing off...

A revelation

I know i use alot of 'sometimes' and 'some things' in the first line of my posts...for reference, you can check out the 2 posts before this one! I don't know why that happens... and i've resolved not to use either in the first line of this post (which officially starts only from the next line!)

Have you ever experienced the feeling people call 'revelation'? That sudden astonishingly enlightening feeling of having finally found what you were looking for...like the act was one of final disclosure...nothing within, nothing beyond. A feeling that imparts so much satisfaction...you could go mad with the knowledge of what has been revealed...like a brainstorm. The beauty of the word 'revelation' - it can be considered an apocalypse or also an eye-opener...almost opposites. Perhaps that's the reason the last book of the 'New Testament' of the Holy bible is named 'revelation'. Aah, i've jumped from the meaning of the word, to the beauty of the word, to the holy bible! God save me and my direction that seems fond of diverting! Now, this post is not about the word itself...but the 'feeling'.

Sometimes, we come across a set of words, which, even if not truly understood, seem so beautiful, lyrically, or just simply. Or seem appealing because of some sort of enigmatic quotient they hold. Those words hit me over 6 months back...and i marvelled at their beauty...felt drunken with the mystique they conveyed...unable to unravel the inner meaning. Maybe i didn't try hard enough to find out what they meant...maybe the heavenly feeling of the mysterious ingredient in them kept me from wanting to know what they actually coneveyed, and where they came from. Maybe curiosity unsatisfied here, was the beauty of it all... A little voice within me, tells the bigger part of me that had i 'read' those lines and not 'heard' them in the context that i did, they'd probably sound less magical...i don't know if i'm convinced with that... the words that i've been talking about, were written by Alexander Pope, in what is called "old poetry"...but i would have never been hit by them if it weren't for Michel Gondry and Charlie Kaufman...the people who wrote (the first one directed) the movie 'Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind'. The words tumble out of Kirsten Dunst's mouth... a sound that is so flamboyant, yet so fragile...lost in transition between the two...and the scene itself is so out of place from the movie...its like poetry in motion...and i'm sure you'll never understand what i mean unless you've watched the movie... so don't blame me if the words seem bland to you! Here goes...

"How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot:
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each prayer accepted, and each wish resign'd".

For the benefit of those who want to interpret those words... you may find something useful here (almost towards the end of the page). But i do suggest you ponder a little! :D I don't think i would have ever made an attempt to understand those words...but it happened, by chance...i was just reading the quote for the 'i don't know how many'eth time, and a friend/senior came online...and this post was made possible. Thankyou, Anish.

and...Caulagi - i succeeded in posting about this before you! Though i thought you'd do it as soon as i gave the quote to you :p

Yours 'May revelations last'ly

Signing off....