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Tuesday, January 31, 2012

The Art of Life.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

Breathing. Walking. Talking. Crying.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

Tables. Math. Physics. Geometry.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

Biology. Games. Music. Laughter.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

To dream. To achieve. To surrender. To let go.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

Desires. Passion. Disappointment. Focus.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

Believing. Having. Being. Living.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

Infatuation. Love. Heartbreak. Death.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

Beats. Rhythm. Symphonies. Life.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

The purpose of it all. The futility at it's core.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

The essence of - Family, Friends, Loyalty, Integrity.
Because they'll remember you not if you never become the person you had the potential to be.
Don't be the shade they want you to be, be every shade you can be. The pallet has one too many colours for you to leave out any at all. Splash it all together. Rise and Fall. Burn to the ground. Then come soaring up again. Recreate. Destroy. Relive.

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime."

Strength. Strength. Strength.

For this is not the playground for the weak.  

Saturday, January 28, 2012

And that's how the jovial child turned twenty-four.

It's funny how we've grown up and live our own lives now. Put our own alarms, make our own coffee, cook our own food and manage our own lives. We're independent. But ever so often the kid in us calls out to us. Says, hey, I need a break. Alas! There's no break from life.

But as we sat by the riverside today, oblivious to the future and impervious to the worries of day to day life, we stole from life, hours for that kid that lives within. We spoke not of anything important whatsoever, lived in the moment and the most productive outcome of the day was truckloads of laughter. It was like reliving one of those school picnics in which we rode the bus singing all the way to the destination in our non-melodious, sore voices and once there created so much ruckus that eventually even teachers had to turn a blind eye for we were uncontrollable. Such were the days of childhood. 

The bus might have been replaced by a boat and we now hold beer bottles in place of innocent coke cans. The tour- guides remain their same over-talkative, boring self but we still ignore their banter with just as much ease. A river stood in place of a resort pool and instead of a crowd, we felt the peace and serenity that comes with a private island. But in it's essence, as we ganged up on each other and splashed water into each other's faces, it hit me - today, we were kids again.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Rockstar - A much-delayed review.

Pure cinematic brilliance.

Three words to sum up this movie for me. And I know I am months late. It's already been discarded as a waste by the masses and applauded by a few critics. I read somewhere that you'll leave the movie after having fallen in love with Mohit Chauhan's voice or in awe of Ranbir Kapoor's acting. For me both were just a start to what all stumped me about this motion picture.

It's a love story with the backdrop of someone associated with the music industry. But more than the music, it's his association with art or as we learn early on in the movie, pain; for one is synonymous with the other. It's so simply told that the sheer simplicity of it is intriguing and yet, there is the underthought of what goes on beneath. It runs so much deeper than the surface.

It's not just a very well written script topped with slight slapstick humour, it is also a gleaming example of good editing, fine photography and exemplary screenplay. Sure if you go in expecting the life story of a musician, you might be in for a surprise but for me it was a pleasant one. It's not a story of how he rises and falls with the much cliche drugs but how he reaches fame when he least yearns it and aches to give it all up just in exchange of the purest drug of them all - love. It's about his fanbase and media which can never understand him because he doesn't even understand himself. It's a quest for his search for what lies within, his pursuit to feel and how he seethes from within once he does begin to feel.

The aforementioned underthought is the society and it's perception - the rules, norms and regulations which bind us all in chains. Chains, we refuse to shed even as we "progress" for we're too scared of the instability that might follow if we dare to come to terms with real emotions. It ends, too soon, with one of my favourite quotes by Rumi, "Away... Beyond all concepts of wrong-doing and right-doing. There is a field. I'll meet you there."

Never before did I truly understand the depth of these words, never before did I yearn to break free as much and never before did I ache for the notes of the last song to last a little longer.. Just to be able to see a happy end. It left me wanting more, so much more, from the story and myself. To have to accept an abstract ending took a lot, but I guess herein lies the beauty of the movie - it doesn't show you any false dreams. It merely projects what Indian directors seem to have forgotten long back - an honest story with a real ending. No added dreams, no unrealistic hopes.

The only weak link of the movie was Nargis Fakhri, who is beautiful - yes, elegant - surely, but not much of an actress. Why they did not choose someone seasoned who could've done justice to the role beats me but I guess it gives you room to focus on the real hero of the movie - Ranbir Kapoor who single-handedly carried the movie forward with such ease and poise. It never registers that it's Rehman's music or Irshad Kamil's words. It all seems to be coming straight from the heart - his heart. His charisma adds charm even to Nargis and paves way for a chemistry which she kind of made difficult. His disinterest in everything but her, his passion for music which she fuels and his rigid, stubborn attitude when it comes to her; his inner resolve to refuse to let her go despite all his mental faculties and physical circumstances telling him otherwise. Ranbir has shown growth and potential which nobody thought possible.

As for the soundtrack, I reserved my comments for the last as it's the icing of the cake. Not 'on' it since it's not an addition but the very soul of the movie. Rehman has proved beyond a doubt that he's totally worth the Academy Award that he owns and continues to be the only musician from the Indian Film Industry to actually "know" music and create beats that linger long after the track's over. Kudos for one of his life's best albums.

Imtiaz Ali, it's glad to have you around. From the chirpy Geet that left an imprint on all of us through Jab We Met to Rockstar Janardan Jhakad (aka Jordon), you've shown range and degrees of an individual, the audience had forgotten to be possible. It's true, a director is the unsaluted hero of a movie. You, sir, have attempted at a masterpiece and even though it falls short, you need to be applauded for the effort.

Rockstar is definitely my pick for movie of the year. I feel sorry for you if you disagree. 

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Where I stood.

I can't see you upset. If you come to me, I will do all in my power to make you smile, whether I know you a day or a lifetime. If you break, know that I'll be trying my best to put back the pieces of you together. For I know what it is to shatter and feel like the winds have torn apart your world. I know what it is to have a phone that refuses to ring or a text or mail which remains unanswered. I know what it is to have contacts in your phonebook you dare not stop at too long, for the temptation to hit call is just too endearing. That feeling you get when you watch a person change and your brain tells you to accept the change while your heart screams out that they will always be the same person to you. The realization that you have to let go.. even of the memories, for their sanctity has been tarnished. To have one bad day after the next, all the time losing faith in the existence of justice, karma and a higher power above.

You're not the only one whose had to cry themselves to sleep or wake up with screams caught in their throats from reliving their worst nightmare. You're not the only one to have experienced loss. You're not the only one who flunk the paper that mattered the most. You're not the only one who was laughed at or ridiculed for their ideas or thoughts or opinions. You're not the only one who loved. You're not the only one who lost. You're not the only one who wanted to give up, so bad.

I know what it's like to relate to a song like the lyrics were written for you and also what it is like to have to delete your favourite songs from your playlist for they remind you of things you no longer have the strength to face. I know what it is to want a fairytale for yourself but getting this bitch called life in return instead. I know what it's like to think you're finishing last in every race you take part in. I know all about holding back and holding in. I know what it's like to not be able to tell your best of friends what you feel for you don't want to be termed weak. I know what it is to start believing that you are weak.

You're not weak, you're human. You lost your sanctuary and your faith but I will help you build it again. I will resurrect the person you think has vanished. That smile that's disappeared, will grace your face again, I promise. Come to me and I'll take you in, no questions asked, no reasons required. I cannot be your friend for those relations take time to build, but I can be your strength. I can be the tide that carries you home. I can be the star that guides your soul to where it longs to be. Because, I stood once where you stand now. And I know.

For you, who think you're alone.
You're not.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Peace of Mind.

Her: Can I ask you a personal question?
Him: Yes.
Her: Is she the only girl you ever loved?
Him: Yes. Why the sudden suspicion?
Her: No suspicion, just asking..
Him: The one and only.
Her: How did you live away from her day after day, week after week, month after month then?
Him: When you get on your feet young and realize you have to make something of yourself, there is no other option.
Her: I still don't get it. How did you become strong enough to stay apart?
Him: Would you believe me if I said I did it *for* her?
Her: I would.
Him: I did.
Her: But you both grew so far apart, became strangers.
Him: Are you scared of standing on your feet or losing someone you love?
Her: A bit of both?
Him: Terrible answer. If you can't stand on your feet, it means you're meant to be a slave. And if you're afraid of losing someone, they're clearly not yours in the first place to lose.
Her: It's just.. Tough. So tough.
Him: I never raised you telling life would be easy. What's the fun in that?
Her: Only a sadist can find this fun.
Him: I'm not saying it's fun. But it's difficult for a reason. Haven't you figured that out yet?
Her: I have. I just don't like it.
Him: Then quit.
Her: I don't quit.
Him: The last time I checked you didn't cry either.
Her: I still don't.
Him: You want me to believe that?
Her: I'm trying..
Him: Trying what?
Her: I don't know! I don't know anymore what I want.
Him: How clouded is your judgement?
Her: I dunno. Love clouds it all up.
Him: No. Love clears it all up girl. If you don't know that by now, you don't know love.
Her: And you do?
Him: Oh yes. I met her and I knew. That's love. It may not work out at times. But it hits you like a bullet, the wound never heals and it only truly happens once. It'll only give you one thing: clarity. Did you ever get that?
Her: Actually..
Him: Don't tell me, as long as you know the answer to that, it's fine.
Her: I do.
Him: Anything else? I'm kinda busy.
Her: No.. Just, thank you.
Him: For what?
Her: For making me believe.
Him: I'll always believe in you.


Me: And I'll always believe in him.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The night that never ended.

He paced back and forth and back, and she stayed curled in bed watching him talk about music with a passion only he could. She added a few comments here and there but she didn't really speak out the lines in her head for he was so good at what he said anyway. Every few minutes he'd look over, look into her eyes and that was his cue to walk over and kiss her. At times when he want too intensely drowned in his stream of thoughts, she said, 'Baby?' and held out her arms and he never made her wait then. He poured them drinks and she smiled as they got high and higher. It never managed to hit him enough, but just with one shot she was done for. He thought it was the alcohol. She knew it was his eyes.

She woke him up with soft kisses that smelt of her and his lips responded all too eagerly. They lay in bed together, tracing nothings on each other's skins knowing not a language to speak out what they felt or wanted to say. They settled for the three words which were to express what they needed to say but didn't quite come close.

He skimmed her off her clothes ever so gently and with such ease, she found it futile to even dress, except she liked him fumbling around a bit or grinning like a fool when he got it right in milliseconds. She got him out of his shirt for the sheer pleasure of looking at his collarbones and then against his skin, she never shivered. The way he held her, he'd never let her shiver.

She dressed and tried to get up only to be pulled back into the bed and under covers again. He lit a cigarette and another, and lit hers first. They burnt a lot of things around except each other. That they were fuck careful about. He held her like crystal, aware of how fragile she was and how bright her shine. She held him like an explosive, knowing how very dangerous he was and how prone to blast.

Their fingers intertwined and the two hands fit beautifully. Like every other part of them. She tickled him and he flinched every time, his eyes lighting up with a twinkle none other had seen for he'd not been tickled all over by anyone else. He hugged her from behind and she told him what an angular body he had for she fit into him at every angle; never before had she slept so well.

He cursed her capacity every night for sleeping off so soon but he never could wake her up harshly. She half-expected to be jerked awake but she never was.. Only kisses greeted her as and when he did succeed in breaking her blissful sleep. She blamed him for making it so easy to sleep for someone who'd grown up an insomniac. He cribbed only half-heartedly for he loved curling up next to her as well.

They ate because they needed to else even that wouldn't have torn them apart; but that was the only reason they got out of bed, at times. They made pillow talk seem pointless and giggled over random shit instead. They pretended to watch movies and other things but never made it beyond thirty minutes of anything. The person beside them was way more tempting than whatever played on the screen.

Music played but not incessantly. He sang to her and she completed his breaths in her head for her voice couldn't ever match his. They tried to bite each other as much as they wanted but neither could ever fully get themselves to scar the other. Showers were few and far spaced out as well. They woke up drenched in each other and went to bed that way, smelling and tasting the same and yet fresh as mint.

They dressed and fed each other.. Both being each other's firsts in so many ways despite having done this before. They both had shiny happy fits of rage and then they had moments when even air seemed like an unneeded accessory. She tried to fight him only to be pinned down every single time. She tried to break free only to be pulled further back in.

He stuck out his tongue a little too much; brushed their noses across each other; played with her cheeks and kissed her eyes. She defeated him in the eye game a fifth time over and promised to continue winning this always. He went with her to movies he didn't even feign the slightest interest in and let her buy him books he didn't much want to read. She roamed with him, the shady, sneaky streets of the city, never wincing for she knew no harm could ever come her way as long as she was with him.

They rode and she felt like she was riding the wind.. Swift as the summer breeze yet cold as the winter chills. He drove toward nothing at an acceleration so high her hair flew all over and they still found the way for they were together. He dived and swerved, never missing an angle, her arms wrapped around him, clinging not for fear but for the warmth he brought her. Her sun.

They dived into water together and swam like the two lost souls that they are only to find each other in that fish bowl. She watched him run from a distance, not knowing when she'd see something as satisfying again. He watched her struggle with her clothes which refused to cover her in water, wondering if he should even help in the endeavour to stay dressed. They got high by the beach, salt in their mouths yet each other on their lips.

They travelled together and all the while he let his lap be her pillow for which she was grateful. She kissed his arm, his hand, his neck, basically anything she could lay her hands on. He returned the favour just with a better radius. They made each other look like rape victims and never apologised. They ignored the world outside and made themselves a haven of their own where nothing and nobody existed but family.

She inked him with her initial on his back and then made it seem like a million other things knowing all along the one thing she wanted it to mean. He tried bruising her but she was so soft and easy to hurt, he found himself holding his urges back. They refused to buy what they'd both wanted for a long time as neither wanted to have it before the other. She bought him silly presents and he didn't throw them off as a waste of space but kind of smiled. He told her he owed her three things still, not knowing all she ever would want would be him.

He promised to always love her. She agreed to always love him more. They fought this war endlessly, never getting a clear winner. He wiped off her tears and let her rage take control of her just that once. She let him turn her face red, not hating him for it somehow despite getting hurt beyond measure. They made up, always. No words needed, their bodies understood each other too well.

They said goodbye. She didn't like the tears she saw in his eyes and stayed strong for him. He didn't see her weep and sob as soon as she turned her back. She never saw his eyes as she finally walked away. He never let her go out of his sight until metal engulfed her. She cried like a kid every step of her journey, unknowing when they'd ever be able to snatch time from life like this again. He lit one cigarette after the other knowing he has to see her again. They fell asleep and made way into each other's dreams every single time for seconds or minutes or more. They couldn't find a single thing which didn't remind them of their soulmate. She woke up to his voice in the middle of the night and felt elated to be able to hear him still. He heard her rant about her sucky day, trying to accept that she wasn't just a phone call away. She slept off finally, thinking she'd sleep at peace now for the worst day was over.

She woke up on an empty bed and a lonely wrist for wearing his watch suddenly became too hard, only to find that the worst was not when she said goodbye. The worst was when she dealt with his absence, alone. The worst was when she didn't find him next to her and had to accept this reality right after having a million face flashes.

He took the easy way out and didn't wake up at all. He knew long back that illusions are way better than real life. He stayed in his dreamland with his dreamgirl, never regretting for a minute of the life he missed for as long as his dreams had her.