Old school bases

Its true (and apt here) what this columnist named Anna Strongin has honestly admitted in her article,

"For whatever reason, when I’m trying to avoid studying I frequently find that my mind trails to the subject of sex."

Now whenever I'm on vacation (which is pretty much 'routine' for someone who's still a student), I usually plan my time in a way that I spend it most productively. Not that I resent or repent this attitude for its got me a lion's share of experience in the field, yet i truly and utterly never had a mental vacation. This season i'm having my first and yes, i'm absolutely loving it. Yet, my traditional need for productivity, my only excuse of my neuroticism, still needs to be sublimated, channelized.

And while I usually fantasize all the REALLY dirty stuffs, surprising to my inherently unromantic nature i found myself romanticizing those small yet significant gestures that we participate, unfortunately, only in the commencement of our new found love.

It is my earnest effort to bring focus (through my writings and other postings) to the less spoken about or heard of. And I don't suppose "getting to first base" is anything to glorify to your peers or co-workers yet we all know how wide is the gap between social displays and intimate reality.


'Holding hands'

Ahhh...the chill that runs down your spine when that special other just slips his useful hand (especially if that is his working hand!)into yours as a full and final acknowledgement of his feelings to you and as an acclamation that there's nothing better he'd like to do with it (although it shouldn't be because he has nothing better to do).

'Playing footsies'

Yes, its absolutely 6th grade level romance yet it has this infantile charm of innocence with a slight bit of a Devil's streak. Sure 'adult' style, you can take your foot far upwards to base 3 ;)

'Cuddling'

This is my personal favourite which is why I like my men big and soft :). But it expanses into various kinds in different settings and situations. The suggestion may seem fluffy yet creates an intense emotional orgasm. So whether in the car seat, naked in bed, on the sofa while watching your favourites or just even looking out the window or next to the fireplace, its a total tenner. But avoid getting too comfortable in a restaurant or a party.

'Soft kisses'

Keyword: SOFT! Because the agitated ones swiftly and directly lead to sex. Not that those are undesirable but simply not the point of this piece :)
Interestingly there's something called a kissing sex, a union only of the lips and tongue and take it from me, it is more than satiating! :P

'Hickies a.k.a. love bites'

The first trademarks of sexual liberty and our naive stamp of love. I have to say, though, more than anything we derive a sense of social pride from it. Either way, its fun to leave evidences of the moments of the night/day before.


'Dancing' (...in the moonlight, ideally I suppose)

Yes, more than anything, its a purely romantic gesture. But then we all have seen or at least heard more than enough about 'Dirty Dancing'. Taking dancing classes together is God awful romantic without question and a healthy way of spending that 'quality time' couples' counsellors endlessly rave about. My simple suggestion would be to just set your itunes to 'Flightless bird American mouth' by Iron & Wine and float away in each others' arms.


'Hand jobs'

Somehow hand jobs alone aren't given much credit. Its another one of those ol' naughty ways of passionate lovers to do each other, minus the hassle of getting naked or on each top of each other. Its thrilling to have a private time discrete from public knowledge and speaks volume of the understanding and chemistry between the two.
This may sound too forward to be added to such a descriptive directory of sweet "nothings" but eventually we all like to move (if only slowly) towards our destinations, although it not being the ultimate point of it all.

I have consciously evaded 'serenading under the sky' in the list as i'm not a personal fan. Nothing more touching than someone dedicating a number to you and hitting it in the best chords they can. However, it has an equal potential to turn out corny or plain crappy. Besides, its also more of a courtship gesture of a more one sided effort to please the other. In my own opinion, the worst from the Victorian ages.

I hope to have rekindled memories and the tingling joy of these gestures that in social science has been reduced to 'first base' of sexual intimacy. But sex is just an overrated experience if the built up to intimacy, that lays the foundation of a psychological even spiritual connection, is underrated.

"Being Indian is my comfort zone"

A couple of eventful days back, my professor in class (who also happens to be my thesis advisor), in preparing for a presentation in a forthcoming international conference, threw at us a very rhetorical question, or so I label it.

"Tell me, what does it mean to be an Indian? What are the things that represent India? What comes to your mind, an image or a thought, instantly in relation to the word?"

As rhetorical as many questions are, that come up in our lectures and discussions, we also are as proportionally an automated lot. A very few pertinent answers came, like this one that commented on an Indian's heightened respect for fulfilling obligations, but a lot more stereotypical answers came forward, which was less to my surprise and more to my disappointment.

I suppose we resent it so much when foreigners (mostly we think WHITES!) assume we still go get our milk on our pet elephants, however, we can't conjure anything more original than the typical Doordarshan images (think, paddy fields and a sun beater farmer) that we would strongly, or should we say more "traditionally", identify India with.

In my mind, my instantaneous response to the question was the façade of a mystic that India is often mistaken with (yes, I realize strong words) i.e. typical with a snake charmer while we are just as, if not more, business minded as any other cultures' day light robbers can be. As much as I still stick to the honesty and truth of this opinion, I do refrain from saying only this. Two reasons why.

a, I'm aware of my overbearing cynical tendency. b, it's never the whole truth if you haven't explored within, right?

So, I did the latter. And came to be realizing exactly what the title of this post is. How? Because when I thought of an alternative to the previous rhetoric (and I wasn't necessarily making an effort to be relatively positive), what then came to mind was a wide encompassing term, "confluence of cultures".

One of the only few well expressed opinions that came in the class was, "the sense of being an outsider in one's own country is unique to us".

The only way I could hit the right note with this rhetoric was by taking it from a personal angle because, (again, the points that follow!)

- no competing culture of the globalized world today is unadulterated.

- And India is not home to any one homogeneous culture, in addition to the much well known fact that it is inhabited by many varieties.

- one can hardly or even objectively speak of something which he is still a part of.

So adopting the rhetoric to my personal life, it, to my delightful surprise, created a hardwood bridge for my web of otherwise disconnected realities. Not being able to define where you come from or where your loyalties lie, is certainly not an envied position. Not being able to wholly identify with your family nor friends, who often belong to different backgrounds, can be quite challenging in defending your position and a lot of times, not being able to justifiably do so.

Herein I owe it to the broad generality of the term 'India' that cannot specify to mean any one thing. Even if it is alternatively called Hindustan which is to suggest it is the land of the Hindus, given the fact they are the majority, there are enough opportunities to punch holes in this definition too. And as much as I crib, and I'm not alone to, a lot about how unkindly one can be treated like a stranger or a hostile intruder, I know that psychologically as well as in physical reality, I was born an Indian and this is where my loyalties lie, with the fair amount of directed critique yet undeniable love.

Thus, being Indian is my safety net, my comfort zone.

Birthday blog - Lost and unfounded

You know that rhetorically stupid question, "So how does it feel to be 18 or 21 or 30?"

And while you're really wondering if you're supposed to be feeling something, you reply in all pomp, "Great!".

This time, however, I actually felt something. 'Different' is the closest I can come to while describing my wandering soul in my own world and the world I inhibit. I don't have any straightforward answers but only more questions. Sometimes, I don't have answers at all.

As part of my agenda with this blog (not that you really need one), I thought of reflecting on some important aspects of my life, perhaps, to see how far I have gotten to achieving my goals and more importantly, how content am I with where I am.

Body/image perception:- I'd like to begin with saying that the world is very cruel on this regard. It certainly has ways of manipulating you into seeing things from their eyes, neglecting the novelty of your own. The world has sort of touted me as a late bloomer on this aspect with my "feminity" only beginning now to start the circle (yeah, its still not taken full circle). Despite being well aware of what the world expected me to look like, I'm not making any conscious efforts now to "fit in". My evolution is absolutely my choice in the socialization of what best suits me. My well rounded figure, gigantic appearance (especially from behind) and once-in-a-while awkward face is part and parcel of a beauty, that does not come in glossy pages. At the risk of sounding narcissistic, I have never felt more beautiful!

Achievement:- I've never been an all-star kid. For that matter, I'm the jack of only some trades. Being an average Joe, however, is no excuse to aim low and I'm a living example of it. Perhaps its ambition more than brilliance that gets you places. And like any prodigy or dork, I've had my share of wonderful highs and humiliating lows. I don't know exactly at what point does a career begin but I can smile upon all the work (be it the littlest of contribution to an organization) that i've done so far. My grades have never been higher than a 'High Average'. Curse my lack of competitiveness for it. A lot of times I've learned from doing what was not supposed to be done. Yet, I've never run into a rabbit hole when a contemporary or junior challenged or wanted to know more from me. And as embarassing as they are, I've never been too ashamed of my bloopers either. Its a subjective take but I've treated achievement as when i'm moved or changed by it far more than resting on appreciation or external reward. But for the sake of my CV, distinction in college is still a dream away.

Identity:- This is perhaps the most fucked up part and shall never so much as come to being very resolved. Its very hard to put it in words but I don't really think I have a sense of absolute belonging anywhere. Being raised in a multi-cultural mainstream definitely has had its disadvantages. You may be able to adapt to many environments, however, do not fit in any. And the ironical thing is that it is a more sensitive matter with others than me. I could breeze through life the way I am but for a good couple of moronic idealists. Moreover culture, identity and community is always a sensitive issue with others more than the individual self. This will definitely have a huge bearing on who I eventually settle with. But more than anything, I just want someone I can come home to. Home being acceptance more than the pressure to conform.

Sociability:- I like to think of myself as friendly, that undeniably I'll always be. Not so much in degree but qualitatively I've "evolved" a lot on this front. And as bleak as it will sound, I still do believe for the better. For one, I've learned to rely on my own companionship a lot more. Its not just a matter of personal space but how I can fancy the idea of spending saturday night with cable and popcorn just as much as drunken stupor with friends. Of course technology has its own part to play here but to some extent even keeping that aside.

Then there is the selectivity of people I want to be with. I don't mean to put myself as an heiress who has to pick her entourage but there just increasingly are a lot of people I'd rather not waste my time with. On top of it, owing to a bitter experience, I'm (unconsciously) overcompensating in becoming socially and emotionally blunt. In the past, I would pursue before the blink of an eye whilst now I either have the two most assumed words for anyone or the benefit of doubt to someone one means something more. Sounds awfully crude but one has a lot to lose in a heartless world.

I'm still very open to variety of people and their traits but my tolerance for non-sense, merely hypocrisy and prejudice, has drastically decreased. There is a stark lack of initiative too, especially with newbies, as the offense to the ego at the event of rejection is insufferable. The status quo is sad as there is a permanence of loneliness because the self is not enough and the bird in hand might as well fly off to the bush any moment.

Relationships:- This is of course in multifold respects and not merely revelling in the obvious connotation. I don't know the kind of position I really take on here. Again, perhaps (over-indulging in the usage), honesty is almost everything to me. I do say 'almost', meaning courtesy/obligations can never really be sidestepped. But Britney Spears sang it for me when she said, "Baby, what you see is what you get". It is this transparency of emotions and thoughts that make me immature about relationships. Unfortunately (only for me, I suppose), mind games and psychological warfare happen just as much in interpersonal relations as is engaged in a luncheon or a political conference (which is said to be done out of necessity). I forgive easily and usually let go of my pride. I feel the need to breathe easy in my own lair as I'm so much on guard out there in the jungle. Needless to say, I have suffered; much more because of my own doing and of being this way and there are miles to go before I can sleep on this one.

Enlightenment:- I probably feel the most positive on this particular aspect of life. Enlightenment to me is all that I have come to learn, acquire and understand. And I can safely call myself one of the sharper knives in the shelf. I have a take on issues that is usually very unique and original. Wit and sarcasm are amongst the most fully bloomed. I would unabashedly credit myself with a lack of a wide gap between book and street smarts. More than anything, I have full confidence in the awareness of the usage of my know-how and skills, regardless of how wide. The only thing I'm cautioned about is putting my foot in my mouth, a tendency I'm gullible to. A lot more wisdom is necessary with a li'l intellect.

So this is how it feels to be 22. I'm sorry this wasn't the answer you were looking for?

Cheap commercials don't make for safer sex

This brand, not in my knowledge, had been around in the market long enough to gain enough recognition to finally launch a steamy ad on television. Despite their best efforts, the ad still lacked the cinematographic class akin to the (in)famous Kamasutra ad of long ago, which many marvelled for its sensual appeal and most condemned for making their sets fume.

Manforce. The very name repels me. And this is almost the last straw of my frustration with the depiction of 'safe sex' by the Indian media for the mass. I don't know why are people still scratching their heads over how and why there as many cases of rape and abuse in this country as no other? With an advertisement that gives him poetic license and contraceptive ads showing pregnancy as entirely a woman's headache, the Indian lay man is roaring to go at her. Its, anyway, ironical how a means of 'protection' can be tagged as 'force'.

The contraceptive ads are only more parochial than the fairness cream ones. Even for married couples, sex is deemed as "Kal raat, bhool ho gayi" (We made a mistake last night). There are some, including those low budget Doordarshan kinds, that are shot with more sensitivity especially suited to the Indian mass and without the judgmental hint.

Strangely, though, I haven't heard a single social cause raising its voice against the messages (overt and the covertly hypnotic) that these advertisements are sending out. I don't deny that many of these ads are only replicating what is said on ground by almost everyone. However, there should be a sense of corporate ethics to not encourage those views that they do to make their product more homely but to revolutionize on rotten myths. The Govt. should play a moral police here, where it actually requires to, by not giving such product labels and ad concepts the clean chit. The greatest of contentions I have is with the Indian media, with all their liberty and opinion, are less into sensitizing and more into sensationalizing.

Sex and/or sexuality is too pertinent an issue in this country to be hushed or taken for granted or worse, hoaxely depicted. Existent rates and vile incidents of abuse, population accomodation, an impending AIDS epidemic, gendered violence are not humanitarian issues anymore but emergencies of survival, both physical and psychological. Its a clear cut choice of restoring maladaptive traditions at the cost of restoring humanity.

"Because they are of the gays and you are in the entertainment business"

"So what are you here for?" asked the curious reporter.

"Uh....are you one of them?" enquired another, looking slightly unsure of what he just said.

28th June, 2009 was not just one of the days in the year that I had the most fun, but also the most touching. The experience, still is, better felt than described. I owe it to my spontaniety and spirit of attending the event and OCDness in committing to keep it. I was nothing less than an excited li'l school girl going for a princess themed birthday party. And in this excitement, told one and all about it and invited a whole lot. The cliche hostile reactions amused me to the core. I, anyway, have a devilish bone to give people a horror once in a while.

The turn out was large and vibrant. The media fest was a bit too overwhelming for my liking. What was pleasing was to see a woman sporting a placard reading, "Proud mother" and one really old, bent couple wearing the colorful badge and holding the flag. What was amusing was to see the reaction on the observing populace' faces, for whom it was a rare Indian tamasha. What was putting off were a couple of creeps, namely pick pockets, silent haters/snickerers, ball-scratcher and an acitivist imploring me not to smoke on the side. What was cute was to see some of the younger lot, looking all giddy and proud to be taking a potential risk.

Even amidst the gaiety and festivity (yeah, twas like the mother of all baraats!), the cynic in me wondered, are really most of these guys (see, I don't even take the guarantee of all) are here out of a fashionable trend or because they are entirely resolved to think 'all out' for the LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transsexual) community? Telling my stand, I dont believe I have an absolute position in this, atleast not even till now. I was there for the repeal of the IPC section code 377 (and carried a placard of that, i did) because I believe in basic human rights and fully feeling that one's sexual orientation is one's personal business and a chance occurence, be it relatively natural or influential. But I'm also realistic not to assume that the lot of social networking supporters, especially the naive 'cool' youth, fully comprehend their participation in something of a mass hysteria this could possibly be touted as. If this is simply a cause that the many 'rebels without a cause' have simply found, then it could fizzle out faster than it even caught on. Don't get me wrong, I'm the most up and about the progress of this cause. The verdict today is the first nail in the coffin.

The point that I'm getting to with this, perhaps, uninvited criticism for the moment is that the knowledge of sexuality, not just ideally but necessarily, should be the forerunner in this campaign for the 'acclaimed' sexual minority. Without it, it has only just an idealistic appeal to the young and restless, missing the essential support of the uncles and aunties, even as unbreakable as they are in their realism.

Until then, it will be 'Us, the normal heteros' and 'them, of the gay peoples'.

:)

P.S. For those of you who are comprehended my post and would like to support the cause for sexuality education alongside the grandiose of the greater acceptance of queerness in our society, please do so here - http://tarshi.net/programs/public_edu/open_letter_sexuality.asp

The confession of nothingness

"7th March, '09

3.55 A.M

Life has no fucking meaning right now. I have either lost touch of all that I stood for and worked towards or am in great doubt. And whatever I speak and do right now is just a convincing act to others as a proof of my "goal directed behavior" and "sanity".

Honestly speaking, I either feel apathetic to things or am greatly disturbed by them, with my middle path as laughing it all off. Sticking safely to this midle path, life has really become a big joke for me. I just try to get by days with fleeting moments of petty joy (most usually at someone's cost) and think just as absolutely great about myself. Even if I'm unsuccessful at grandiosity of the self, I atleast get some reassurance in a way that I'm keeping tabs on myself with a depression meter.

Playing the facade has its own limitations, though. The point at which you drastically move from playing it to the reality of living the bore, drudgery or hurt, it numbs you for a while in a weird kinda way like you're frozen between time periods.

So yeah thats my life. I could look at it from the rosy picture of keeping myself busy, doing my work, being as good a person (pffrrrrt...:P), performing as many responsibilities, whining a li'l, laughing a lot more...

Yet I can't piece them all together to make something meaningful. Like I said, what it FEELS like is just all a really convincing facade to the point that I get convinced at times. However, I don't know if its a higher power in the form of my conscience or the madness of my head that doesn't let me just be blissfully ignorant of the 'subset' of life.

I fantasize a lot. I daydream in between classes, conversations with friends, studying, having fun, and even something as serious (for me) as watching a movie. Its funny, sometimes I would just pause a movie to happily allow myself to day dream awhile before I can "seriously" continue. I mean its all wishful thinking right, thats not supposed to harm anyone? As long as i.e. I keep the boundaries of fantasy and reality in check. This sort of tends to make day dreaming a kind of a drag, though. I mean its only enjoyable so long as you think (no matter how seriously) that there is a slight chance of 'it' coming true. It makes me wonder, though, can life ever turn out to be much more than a fantasy? Do we necessarily always drop down to reality?

Food for thought and I'd like to live to see this happening. Hey, I just got a goal to live for yet life sucks now coz nothing I want is accessible to me and...*sigh* I don't know what I want."

My mom once told me that when you reach 21, you realize how immature you are. Now them fancy pants are calling it a, 'quarter life crisis'.

Reviewing 'He's just not that into you'; the book & the motion picture.

Although i'm just not that into reading self-help novels, this was my first exception. The six words that ring along the book which is its driving point has a magical appeal to every self doubting woman. As per the 'Sex & The City' sciptwriters, Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo, who dished out this bestseller, it is THE answer to most (although it contends to say all) of the problems and doubts women encounter in dating and relationships.

A very engaging read yet brace yourself to funnyman Greg's satirical tone and language in learning the reason to why you never heard from that cute guy; would your boyfriend keeptalking about his ex; would your longtime live-in not pop up THE question; would he not divorce the wife your lover's so unhappy with and zillion-like questions we've spent hours ruminating on and convincing ourselves of the excuses they make up or we conveniently devise for them. But for Greg, nothing is any more complex or simpler than, "He's just not that into you". Because if he was, he would find time to call, would want to sleep with you, talk about the future with you...the fairy tale love. However, the co-author begs (literally!) to differ in parts where she more humanely empathizes why it is hard to see it as simply as her 'been-there-done-that' colleague expects. Wherever Greg's rocket science six words sound cold, Liz fills in with a experienced insight to mostly prove the point that the six words saves a lot more time and a lot less heartbreak.

Sensitive scenarios involving marriage and extra-marital affairs were tackeled with more caution and less generalizability (with no reference to moral judgments: a wise decision). Yet the book doesn't and admits to not being able to answer the somewhat dismayed Liz's question, "Then who else is left to date? No one's perfect after all". Greg simply consoles that one shouldn't have to settle for very little, because of an imagined lack of better choices. In his words, "Don't waste the pretty!".

The movie adaptation is surprisingly not as peppy as one would think of a "chick flick", a label that the makers have deliberately denied and evaded. A full fledged STAR cast (notably Jennifer Aniston & Connely, Ben Affleck, Scarlett Johansson, Drew Barrymore &, an adorable Ginnifer Goodwin) make up the network of interconnected lives in variedly complex dating/relationship situations. Rotten Tomatoes rightly reviews that the movie pays so little attention to each character's situation, thus, making them stereotypical. And I couldn't agree more that the lack of fullness in the script exploits the least out of the cast's acting prowess, making the movie bank quite exclusively on the star power (such a cliche' with Bollywood multi-starrers).

However, the movie was a required reformation of the book in putting men equally (less than more) in the same sticky situations. For Greg, guys are just assholes with a bad habit that women had to work around while, in fact, guys as much fall prey to the mixed signs and subjective interpretations. Another parallel I drew between the movie and the book is how it left you feeling. While the book sorta asks you to wait for that one, almost impossibly good chap, the movie ends in the delight one may find in the guy who was meant to be or breaking out of something that never was. I, for one, choose the second.

Yet with all the few disagreements and scrutiny kept aside, the six words have worked like a charm for me and that to me, is the point of the book: to move on! And the book/movie prescribes that the only way it works is to think of yourself as THE rule more than an exception.

Where are all the good men?

Big YAY for the post due summer blog post! Altogether, it’s been an extremely crazy, busy or laidback phase in my life ever since this year. Although, thoughts that I’m dying to share have been racing all the time, putting it together in a blog post requires that one fine day when the thoughts are more finely tuned to type it down. Without needing to be one, I know that being a writer is one of the toughest jobs, only because its anything but routine.

I realize this is the first time that I’m making a more journal like entry in this blog, deviant from my original intention with it. But it’s a great way to loosen one’s inhibitions to gain access to the core assumptions or observations, a lot which has been processing unconsciously and comes to the fore of self-awareness much later.

For some reason (and I believe a good one), I wish to share some of the key topics that I intend to be writing on. The cautious use of ‘intend’ is another way of not making any promises and evading the commitment of living up to anything. Not that I have a fan following, so to speak of, but one (schizophrenically, if it may be) wants to live up to an imagined one. Moreover, it’s a self benefiting cause to develop my writing skills to fuel the later realization of a, till now, fantasized ambition. Anyway, the topics would whirl around Indian Television, Review of the bestseller, “He just not that into you”, My Quarter Life Crisis and, well we’ll (includes me btw) see as it comes. But for now…

After having worked with a couple of ngos and exposed to many working for multitude of causes, its safe to say that the field is clearly dominated by the smarts and assertiveness (or aggressiveness in some cases) of women. And this is something slightly bewildering to me.

I’m clearly aware that there are sex/gender stereotypes in professions and vocations everywhere yet there are reasons enough to explain it, though, not justifying it. Surely many (and I wont say most) causes are driven towards the upliftment of women especially in third world nations or just have a very powerful streak of feminism embedded in them. But what about the causes driven towards animals, environment, social ethics, corporate ethics or human rights in general? I don’t see a particular feminist streak in any of them and these are just to name a very few. So why is it that more college girls would spend their summer volunteering in NGOS that are mostly spearheaded by the prototype of a gritty, smart woman from a well educated bourgeoisie?

Okay, the pop psychologist in me would say that causes or social movements are healthy outlets for the historically and universally bottled up (one way or another) race of women. It is the one platform where they can speak out, wear their attitude or clothes they choose (literally!), with/without a perfect smile or the approval of a Donald Trump or Julia Morley. Essentially, they can choose to be non-conformists without being anarchists, though the dividing line can blur sometimes, much subject to interpretation.

But that only explains the abundance of the “grim” fairer sex. So where are all the good men? Ironically, this question applies in any other given situation. There may be many exceptions to discount this whole contention but if so, why are the prototypes more visible than even the lack of a male prototype. Of the ones that I’ve mostly seen are men in the accountancy department.

Movements, demonstrations or causes in this country dates back to the Gandhi led freedom movements. Up till then only the men folk flocked in large for revolts or demonstrations. I know this is a poor analogy as they still flock in large for the mass movements but my point is in intimately tying it to professionally or passionately working for causes, where they are evidently less present.

Don’t enough men want to, “make a difference”? Are they more driven by personal ambitions of a corporate life or the security and power of the Government? Or are they just waiting till they become a celebrity to champion a cause like they would endorse a brand?

Not being a representative of the race, I can only raise these questions. I don’t have much of a premeditated reason for doing so and will need to look within for it. It is definitely not with any malice towards the women who’ve done and are doing the good work. Maybe it’s an appeal to the male folk to join in as their participation will, in effect, make the difference as the last brick to the foundation laid over the decades by the “female prototypes”.

Frozen River (2008)

This Oscar and Critics Choice runner is the kind of movie that makes you want to make one. Falling under the category of Independent Movies, this movie has a very personalized touch of a running commentary (that is initially mistaken as subtitles although some of them are) by the makers through every scene and shot on the set up, the racing thoughts, the feelings, characters, sponsors et al. To an unwitting commercial bug, this was a refreshing change and a profound move into a more mature taste in cinematic obsession.

Set in the lives of families in trailer homes in the Mohawk land bordering the United States and Canada, it (al)most inevitably delves into the touchy subjects of race, colour, rights, aliens and immigration. Lila Littlewolf (Misty Upham: for sponsoring Lays Stax :) jk), a border crossing alien (orients, pakis (not my words)) smuggler on probation and separated from her li'l son gets the car trunk of Ray Eddy (Melissa Leo, playing the classic "white trash") in the fate of dire circumstances. Desperate to get the dream mobile home for her broken family, Ray makes one odd trips across the ice border, with the risks consequentially following up.

Melissa Leo deservedly earned the nomination by the academy and in my judgment is second best to Winslet's win. My paradoxical liking to this movie is that the running scipt commentary makes the viewers as involved in the process of the 'making of the movie' yet shifts the focus from actually watching the movie making it a relatively semantic experience rather than a visuo-perceptual one.

Nevertheless, one of the better movies i've watched of late in line with 'Confessions of a Shopaholic' (2009), 'The Weight of Water' (2000), 'I am Sam' (2001) and 'The Reader' (2008).

The craziest thing i've done

If someone asks me today and most likely ever in life..."What is the craziest thing you've done?"

I'll have to say its, "Travelling one hour to somebody's place to "see him off" before he went far away for only a while with him constantly urging me not to and having to spend only about 20 interrupted minutes with him and travelling one hour back to my pad quite late in the evening in a city so very unsafe for women"

But...
the funny thing is that it wasn't so crazy to have done that, it was only crazy to have done it for someone who so didn't know what the urge and impulse meant and certainly, wasn't worth it.

To the people who've been where i was and especially to those who still are...

Another wishlist

Of course, there are some things money cant buy...

And the Oscar goes to...

As an Indian, I have to be proud of the fact that Slumdog Millionaire took away most and the cream of the cake in the Oscars. However, as a movie critic and a cinematic lover, it was disappointing. I felt the same way even when A.R. Rahman won as I'm not the biggest fan of the OST of the movie either. But atleast he deserved it more than the movie.

Danny boyle did a great job with the direction, so no contentions in him taking away the Best Director. However, he did not make a movie so great to make it to the top. Call me crude but it almost felt like a racial uplift. I could be wrong and its probably for the better if I am.

But this bright eyed poster of a movie an unfortunate miss in the oscars with its only nominations being in the Best Supporting Actor and Best Costume category. Clearly, it deserved more adoration. Kate Winslet could have won hands down with this one, though I trust her acting enough to be worthy of winning for what she did. (memory failure!)

So in my li'l fantasy world where I solely represent the academy, I give away the Oscar for Best Movie to Revolutionary Road. For...its dramatic appeal...its cinematographic simplicity...its complex script, the meaning/essence of which with you and is much contemplated over...for how eerily real it felt as though you're witnessing it, not watching it. I sure have a lot more things to say as the movie provoked a lot in me and is definitely the best I have seen in 2008 and almost the best till date.

*standing ovation*

My religion

The yellow photocopied texts are leafed through. "Six days!" she calls out. The yellow pages are turned over even though the lyrics imprinted in our minds are bolder than the ones fading away in the dilapidated texts.

A family prayer meet is (supposed to be) held every Friday at my place. This has been a family tradition ever since, enforced most ruthlessly by my father. Each week we take turns to read the good word and recite our prayer, which is in some way, a relief off our shoulders.

But this is the singular perspective of a critique that I do not absolutely uphold. For a more practical purpose, our 'prayer meets' serve as a wonderful time for the family to come together to discuss the problems we face and the future ahead.

"A family that prays together, stays together", my dad always said and continues to. That's another issue that he often ends up discussing the miniature issues of the car engine and the dusty fans.

But on a meaningful note, the outcome of these gatherings has rubbed off in my instinctive nature to be as open and sincere with them as life's idiosyncrasies would permit; because in my growing years, I have rarely come by parents who know and appreciate their kids for whom they really are.

A part of this credit goes to my folks in their effort of raising us in the most fairly civilized manner, rarely resorting to unquestionable dictatorship. However, my spiritual intuition believes that the good lord presides over all such meetings. And that his blessings may not be immediate or apparent but is, nevertheless, assured and ever lasting.

"He teaches me to watch and pray and sing rejoicing everyday..."

As a free and flexible (condemned as loose by many) Christian, I don't stick by the dictum of any particular denomination. I don't fret to testify to it even right now. Religion is a personal matter. It all boils down to your faith that finds you, and not vice versa. It saddens my soul to see mass upheavals in the name of religion. Because the essence does not lie in mass statistics and domination. Any religion that makes it better for that one person is the best that could ever be.

Like Jesus Christ made a difference in what my life could have been if not for his angels who I call my parents. His trust in every individual to "reap whatever he sows" is the kind of upbringing that I am eternally grateful for. This is what I have deduced, not from bible stories or church hymns, but those "tiresome" prayer meets.

10 reasons why it sucks to be a Psychology Major

Its quite amusing...
the reaction that you get the instant you reveal that you have a major in Psychology or pursuing one. For most educated and uneducated dont have an effin' clue about the discourse even if they know everything about life. However, the ignorants dont irritate me as much as the ones who know or lets say the people in the field who claim to know it all. There's hardly a middle ground to find here, coz you're either in it and you think you know too much to the point you've lost touch with reality or you're a "dont know" and treat it as a mystic.
So in my effort to hop from one end to another of the scale, I bring "it" to you.

1) People think you can read their minds.
The reason why I think this is dumb is not only because people think that in interpreting behavior we can root out their mental operations, but why the heck would you want anyone to read your mind? Its like giving someone a peek into your underwear. You wouldn't ask an anatomist, "can you see my uterus?"

2) You are obliged to sound "politically correct".
Being sensitive is one game. Being stuck up, as you know, is a different ball game. So a Psychology major is supposedly a walking dictionary of the Queen's English of some sorts, correcting each insolent along his way. Words like retard, psychotic, stupid, and evil are blacklisted. And 'black' would be racially insensitive for an African American, even if a retard locates the continent in the Bahamas.

3) People request that they be "analyzed".
Obviously, people with an inkling of an idea about a few disorders think it is as symptomatic as medical disorders. Thus, a rash around your groin caused by constant scratching may be a suspected "sexual sublimation" or a form of OCD.

4) "Expert's" advise on how to get richer, happier, successful or make friends.
Okay, I admit this comes from my very personal and justified bias of self-help books. But again, this is (as it is apparent here) to do with my contention with the experts in the field. *Knock knock* the most valuable lesson of Psychology is something called HUMILITY that you're an effin' nobody to tell people how they should live. Fuck the behaviorists who form the faculty in grooming schools!

5) People believe you're Maslow's favourite.
You cant be depressed, stressed, a failure or even hungry because you have the answers on the tip of your finger to every explainable (and beyond) phenonmenon in the galaxy. How, possibly, can you charge yourself by the hour?

6) Your subject matter affects your personal life.
You go down on your guy and ask, "Now how do you feel about that?" or make him feel special by saying, "You lie at the upper end of the normal distribution".

7) People freeload off you
You're invited to a party. You feel thrilled. Feel like you're the man. You arrive. Greeted by the host, who started five rounds before you. In his drunken stupor, he pours out all his sob stories without even pouring a peg for you. You give him the referrence for the double A's. His therapeutic gain at your egoistic loss.

8) You don't see your pets the same way anymore.
You wonder why Wolfy starts drooling at the ring of the doorbell? Is it because it is connected to the sound of your footsteps down the staircase, along with the smell of the cheap perfume you wear to impress your cheapskate boyfriend, who bought it off on credit from a street vendor five feet away from the butcher?

9) People show off, dropping cheesy Freudian lines.
Girl to girl: "I bought a couch today. I know so Freudian of me!"
Guy, with a boner, on a bar stool to the next girl, "Envy not, have it!"

10) World peace is a threat to your job prospects.
You'd rather fund Al-Qaeda to recruit more young terrorists and encourage young kids as altar boys than scouts.