Hobbies, Literary experience, philosophical me

When one word speaks a thousand words

As a matter of lack of choice, or rather as a result of murder of choice, not a day passes by in my life when I don’t come across some arrangement of Roman alphabets that always makes sense to my literate mind.But there are some words that are forever condemned to have their existence intertwined with our distant or not so distant past.When I come across those words, a divine orchestra of words fill my day dreaming mind.

One such word that comes to my mind is “melancholy”. If I had ever done grave injustice that sprang to my mind. The first line of this para would definitely find its place as a stinking specimen.  For an inaudible whisper of the word “melancholy” flooded my mind with memories that I had to let it out in this blog. In my not so distant past, I had to study a subject called alternative English. In my school days, it was a subject that definitely compete in the race to be my favourite. You hardly got marks. There was no such thing as right answer or wrong answer. It all depended on how much your teacher liked your answer. But it sure had some of the finest specimens of English literature still not lost in the pages of history.

Wordsworth, I really hope I am not messing up with the name of the great nature poet for I have resolved not to look up the literary piece that forms an integral part of this post. This is done with a misplaced sense of self-righteousness that I can do justice to my memories only if my entire post is untainted with anything but my memories. “Misplaced sense of self righteousness”- rings any bell. In my mind, I hear an explosion of bell metal that numbs my sense of hearing. These words always teleports me to the seats of inox kolktata, and I see joker mouthing these words to batman. Dark knight is a part of my recent memory and weeds have not yet attacked this castle. So, I shall try to quickly pass through my neighbourhood and zoom to my past.

About Wordsworth , he had written a poem called solitary reaper. I really don’t recollect all the words of the poem but a few words have stood the test of time.This was the poem that told me of the existence of the word “lass”. I first heard someone using the word “melancholy notes”. I found myself wandering across the world trying to help Wordsworth decipher what the beautiful lass was trying to sing in a language that he did not understand but in a voice that touched his heart.But therein lies an allegory of my life, whenever I hear the word “melancholy”, a smile spreads on my lips, I race to my school days, and I fail to sympathize with anything and everything sad about the collection of words that needs the word melancholy to describe itself.

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movie reviews

Terminator damnation

Certain artists create an air anticipation. When ones favorite movie watched legally in a theater and the only movie watched multiple times is the dark knight, one just wishes for time to fly by to cut short the long days and months to pass by and be awed at the marvel of human creativity. Alas, many a hopes are damned to be unfulfilled. With bated breath, I ventured towards BigCinemas at Ameerpeth to have a glimpse and to enthralled by Christain Bales latest movie “Terminator Salvation”.

At first I thought I was lucky to get the best possible seats without any advance booking.Well law of averages is valid. My luck ran out or rather the colective luck of entire audience ran out.The movie was a shocker. The story was ridiculous and had no credibility even after suspension of disbelief. The acting was less than what is visible in one dimensional photo shoots. To rub salt in the wounds, there were no hot scenes.

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movie reviews, Uncategorized

Sorry, I did not like Slumdog millionaire

I have been living in an island called IIT kharagpur for past five years. This island has some very peculiar traits. This island is not surrounded by water but it is an island. This island is,genetically speaking, has diverse racial elements yet all inhabitants past and present constitute a tribe of their own.This tribe refers to porn as devotional songs. This tribe gives a ten on ten to gunda and enjoys watching critically acclaimed movies.This tribe worships intelligent movies and yet watches shera and loha.

This tribe really appreciates great movies yet dos not think twice before watching the pirated versions. CamRip, PDVD, DVDRip, mkv version are all part of the lingua franca of this island.Every movie enjoyed by this tribe is individually awarded a coveted place in g talk messages. One such movie was “Slum dog millionaire”- the movie to watch for the self professed intellectually blessed.

Well like it or not i have also undergone inductive mutation in this island.As such i suffer from “I am intellectually superior” syndrome. Hence, I sat down in front of my computer to watch this movie for the classes. Unfortunately, it is plain and simple unbelievable.

Firstly, a guy enveloped in shit cant go near Amitabh Bachan. Even if we are to hibernate the logical section of our brain for this incongruity, I fail to fathom how the photograph of the star managed to be unscathed.

Secondly, as a four year old kid you dont have a crush on a girl with whom you play.

Thirdly, you cant speak flawless English growing up on railway tracks.

Fourthly, you just cant come back to Mumbai and find a girl whom you had known only for a few days.

Fiftly, a blind friend of you who had known you only for a few days just cant recognise you after years.

Sixthly, how come the street children get sophisticated guns.

Seventh, after Ismail what seemed in all probability raped Latika, you just cant come out of it psychologically unharmed.

Besides, the treatment of Indians is too lopsided to say the least. This is real America and this is real India.

I have a long list but I shall stop this self inflicted torture by questioning how did Ismail recognise his brothers voice after such a long time.

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