As I finally went to sleep last night, at around 3 AM, I could feel such a serene freshness which has been quite rare in my life. So has been waking up in the morning with a grin...not feeling tired with the day's mundane work...the drizzle and the dirty water in the potholes had never felt more romantic...oh it felt as if I could never again lose my temper.
A very very close match would be...as you might have already guessed, the mornings I wake up with a dream of Rito still smeared on my eyes. Oh, I remembered such happy memories...the happiest memories of my life...the evening when Boo first kissed me, or the Boo murmuring in his fever - "the maid's kid, she said, bhaiya your wife is very pretty, and her mom started beating her...why should she beat her?", Anand pleading with me - "promise me you'll never cry again", or Anand in his fever saying, "tu bahut achhi hogayi hai, pehle itni achhi nahi tthi", my bossie urging me to take half his sweet, meeting him for the last time in person, knowing I might never see this gentleman again, and crying all the way to the airport - crying so much that the conductor wouldn't even approach me for the ticket...my bossie's pic with his son, Rito's pic with his daughter, both among my most favorite photographs...oh so many memories. If you ask me, my most favorite is always something to do with travel, me and Rito walking together, that bus we used to board, and he'd touch my cheek and turn my face to look at my earring, me and Boo on his bike and sometimes, scooter, me and Anand, on our way to Yelahanka, my MRT rides with bossie...
Oh the bliss when you are happy...nothing upsets you...because these very memories have killed me so many times. The worst memory that haunts me, the night when me and Boo were coming back after the Barfi show, also failed to impact in the way it does...yes, I won't deny that I had tears in my eyes, but I would rather prefer describing the tears as an emotional release...than something poignant.
I was afraid of watching anything strenuous this weekend, I have almost stopped watching movies these days. Movies, something that used to essentially nurture my entire thought process once. Why, do I even read books? I was conveniently becoming this zombie who is falling in tune with her monotonous, repetitive life. The only excitement that remained was about buying the car, as if dying without fulfilling this last bit materialistic dream of mine would be such a pathetic waste...else what more is there to be achieved in life?
The girl inside me, the real me, would put up a weak fight - "no, I refuse to be a zombie". "What do you want then?", I'd ask. "I want a movie". I'd conveniently settle for a kid's ghost movie, যেখানে ভূতের ভয়...
At around 12 in the night, that real me would revolt again. "But, you have Highway...I always wanted to watch that...". Trying my best to dissuade her, I'd say, "it'd stress you out...", but would give in all the same. You see, we are the same person after all.
Oh, wouldn't it be insufficient to call it a poetry? Poetry has rhythm associated with it, but not music, you see. This movie is lyrical. It is like, romance itself taking you through its biography in a lilting, mesmerizing voice. This is me, this is how a relationship (which I have always called inter dependency) happens between man and woman. I was not in my practical, buried alive state, after such a long time. It was like watching Maqbool, in the dead of the night, or Bombay, on a rain soaked afternoon. Being transported to a different world. Feeling life throbbing in my veins once again. The girl, who has always worshiped love, could feel love talking to her...
Alia is good. she has acted well, and my review ends there, so far as she is concerned. The heart and soul of the movie is this hero guy, Randeep Hooda, who is no doubt a very strong actor, as his earlier movies have also proved. But he molds himself in the very character of Mahavir, his suppressed undercurrent of emotions under the guise of that perpetual frown, and, perhaps the most beautiful scene of the movie, when his face breaks into a smile as love triumphs over all his misgivings (in that Reckong Peo bus stop scene). His restrain and resolve not to fall in this trap, his myriads of emotion when he is at the point of no return (outside that mountain home) and his sombre acceptance of destiny (perhaps he got a premonition of his imminent death - that is why he was so fidgety and apprehensive) - yet he would let his girl have her own way. Perhaps when you experience this one thing that is divine in the mortal world, you are quite quite ok to face your doom.
Imtiaz Ali has been my virtual friend from his very first film, Socha Na Tha (it does take time to realize whom you love...). Then came Jab We Met (I can watch it any number of times and remember my days at SG), Love Aaj Kaal (Yeh Dooriyan...ah, that hope that someday he'd realize what I have already understood), Rockstar (ah Prague again), even Cocktail (not directed by him, and not a movie I particularly liked, but still I agree with the message that you cannot compromise in a relationship devoid of love). In a nutshell, Imtiaz and I think in a similar way, so far as human bonding is concerned. And hence, unlike my revered movie guru Rajeev Masand, who was exasperated with this attempt of his, and gave him 2 out of 5, I was plain grateful to this thought-buddy of mine for giving me such a wonderful movie to watch. Apparently nonsensical to the world, a story line hard to believe, the twists and tragedies that seem somewhat imposed, the make up pathetic (how does Alia's hair manage to remain so silky despite the incessant travel??!!), the cinematography - its only saving grace...the practical me agrees with it all. But then Highway was to me that jolt (one that even Queen was unable to produce, though I rather liked the movie), the same one that...despite being such a despicable part of medical science, does succeed in bringing a mentally sick person back to his senses at times. I might never meet my Mahavir, may be we have already met and parted ways, never to come together again, may be we are yet to meet, may be our togetherness will never be quite fruitful (as per the apparent social norms) - but still the charm is in the belief itself...that there is one such person...the faith is what makes you go on. I am a very romantic person, I shouldn't transform into a practical self, simply as a result of things going wrong in my life so far. The movie inspired me to accept my mistakes but still be capable of falling in love...with that one person who is equally in need of me. Else, tell me how this world has gone on this long, even after so much brutality? There must be something called love...
A very very close match would be...as you might have already guessed, the mornings I wake up with a dream of Rito still smeared on my eyes. Oh, I remembered such happy memories...the happiest memories of my life...the evening when Boo first kissed me, or the Boo murmuring in his fever - "the maid's kid, she said, bhaiya your wife is very pretty, and her mom started beating her...why should she beat her?", Anand pleading with me - "promise me you'll never cry again", or Anand in his fever saying, "tu bahut achhi hogayi hai, pehle itni achhi nahi tthi", my bossie urging me to take half his sweet, meeting him for the last time in person, knowing I might never see this gentleman again, and crying all the way to the airport - crying so much that the conductor wouldn't even approach me for the ticket...my bossie's pic with his son, Rito's pic with his daughter, both among my most favorite photographs...oh so many memories. If you ask me, my most favorite is always something to do with travel, me and Rito walking together, that bus we used to board, and he'd touch my cheek and turn my face to look at my earring, me and Boo on his bike and sometimes, scooter, me and Anand, on our way to Yelahanka, my MRT rides with bossie...
Oh the bliss when you are happy...nothing upsets you...because these very memories have killed me so many times. The worst memory that haunts me, the night when me and Boo were coming back after the Barfi show, also failed to impact in the way it does...yes, I won't deny that I had tears in my eyes, but I would rather prefer describing the tears as an emotional release...than something poignant.
I was afraid of watching anything strenuous this weekend, I have almost stopped watching movies these days. Movies, something that used to essentially nurture my entire thought process once. Why, do I even read books? I was conveniently becoming this zombie who is falling in tune with her monotonous, repetitive life. The only excitement that remained was about buying the car, as if dying without fulfilling this last bit materialistic dream of mine would be such a pathetic waste...else what more is there to be achieved in life?
The girl inside me, the real me, would put up a weak fight - "no, I refuse to be a zombie". "What do you want then?", I'd ask. "I want a movie". I'd conveniently settle for a kid's ghost movie, যেখানে ভূতের ভয়...
At around 12 in the night, that real me would revolt again. "But, you have Highway...I always wanted to watch that...". Trying my best to dissuade her, I'd say, "it'd stress you out...", but would give in all the same. You see, we are the same person after all.
Oh, wouldn't it be insufficient to call it a poetry? Poetry has rhythm associated with it, but not music, you see. This movie is lyrical. It is like, romance itself taking you through its biography in a lilting, mesmerizing voice. This is me, this is how a relationship (which I have always called inter dependency) happens between man and woman. I was not in my practical, buried alive state, after such a long time. It was like watching Maqbool, in the dead of the night, or Bombay, on a rain soaked afternoon. Being transported to a different world. Feeling life throbbing in my veins once again. The girl, who has always worshiped love, could feel love talking to her...
Alia is good. she has acted well, and my review ends there, so far as she is concerned. The heart and soul of the movie is this hero guy, Randeep Hooda, who is no doubt a very strong actor, as his earlier movies have also proved. But he molds himself in the very character of Mahavir, his suppressed undercurrent of emotions under the guise of that perpetual frown, and, perhaps the most beautiful scene of the movie, when his face breaks into a smile as love triumphs over all his misgivings (in that Reckong Peo bus stop scene). His restrain and resolve not to fall in this trap, his myriads of emotion when he is at the point of no return (outside that mountain home) and his sombre acceptance of destiny (perhaps he got a premonition of his imminent death - that is why he was so fidgety and apprehensive) - yet he would let his girl have her own way. Perhaps when you experience this one thing that is divine in the mortal world, you are quite quite ok to face your doom.
Imtiaz Ali has been my virtual friend from his very first film, Socha Na Tha (it does take time to realize whom you love...). Then came Jab We Met (I can watch it any number of times and remember my days at SG), Love Aaj Kaal (Yeh Dooriyan...ah, that hope that someday he'd realize what I have already understood), Rockstar (ah Prague again), even Cocktail (not directed by him, and not a movie I particularly liked, but still I agree with the message that you cannot compromise in a relationship devoid of love). In a nutshell, Imtiaz and I think in a similar way, so far as human bonding is concerned. And hence, unlike my revered movie guru Rajeev Masand, who was exasperated with this attempt of his, and gave him 2 out of 5, I was plain grateful to this thought-buddy of mine for giving me such a wonderful movie to watch. Apparently nonsensical to the world, a story line hard to believe, the twists and tragedies that seem somewhat imposed, the make up pathetic (how does Alia's hair manage to remain so silky despite the incessant travel??!!), the cinematography - its only saving grace...the practical me agrees with it all. But then Highway was to me that jolt (one that even Queen was unable to produce, though I rather liked the movie), the same one that...despite being such a despicable part of medical science, does succeed in bringing a mentally sick person back to his senses at times. I might never meet my Mahavir, may be we have already met and parted ways, never to come together again, may be we are yet to meet, may be our togetherness will never be quite fruitful (as per the apparent social norms) - but still the charm is in the belief itself...that there is one such person...the faith is what makes you go on. I am a very romantic person, I shouldn't transform into a practical self, simply as a result of things going wrong in my life so far. The movie inspired me to accept my mistakes but still be capable of falling in love...with that one person who is equally in need of me. Else, tell me how this world has gone on this long, even after so much brutality? There must be something called love...
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