However much I might try to watch movies, at length it never gives me the comfort of books. I have been watching too many movies lately. I rather liked Kapoor and Sons...a real movie by the KJo camp after Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna (i.e. KANK sans those stupid party songs and overacting bits). Given my temper these days (it just flares up and roars like forest fire on the slightest impulse) it felt nice to watch a movie full of tempers and mood swings. Ki and Ka was a big let down though. Expected a little more from R Balki. If I may say so, the storyline seemed too rigid and made up. Then there was Hamari Adhuri Kahaani - watching a depressive movie in an already depressed state can't take you anywhere good - and then I really don't believe anymore that a superman like persona will come in his shining armor to rescue the damsel in distress - no sir, that doesn't happen. I was trying to watch JFK as well, but gave up on it mainly because of the length. My eyes were burning and watering and a 3+ hours of Hollywood movie without a lot of background (I tried to do some research but wiki wouldn't draw a very clear picture of the exact scenario before, during and after the assassination - and I am not very well read about American history - what little I know is through the little bit of reading I have done as a follow up to Gone with the Wind, which is much more ancient history than the time we are speaking of) - it's just like, I told myself, may be some other time and slept off.
After the guests for the morning left (given mom's illness, someone or the other keep coming to visit her - this time it was once again one of my innumerable মামা with his wife and son...) I retreated to my room and put on the AC. The only bit of luxury I enjoy. I debated with myself about how best to spend the one hour I have for myself before lunch...read the newspaper, and then tried to concentrate on Go Set a Watchman...I couldn't. Finally I settled on reading the last few pages of Hema and Kaushik one more time. Ah, this is called super bliss. I don't think I shall speak with my best friend ever again in this life time. The pain has dulled down. The ecstasy of a couple of (seems like nonexistent) days are not remembered or delved into - as if it never took place. But I have lost my gold bangle. My existence with the realization that he's not present in my life even virtually feels like I am just not alive. I feel like an alien being - not myself. I think it is really good time to explore unaccustomed earth one more time - leave the safety of Kolkata.
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