Confused Ramblings

The concept of God has always been a controversial one. I often wonder why. For some it is an easy thing to accept whereas for others it quite is not. For me it is not. Why? Why cant I accept that there is a God? Maybe I do. Well the truth is I dont really know.

I am a firm believer in destiny. I believe that destiny can be controlled and it is something that I have control over. I have always lived my life the way I have wanted to and hence I strongly believe that I am the creator of my destiny. I also believe that I have been put here for a purpose. Now that is something that I am yet to figure out. My purpose. I know that I am not the kind who is going to make some significant contribution to the world or something. Lets just leave that to the brainy ones and the ones who truly believe that they can make a difference. I know I am not cut out for it. I just want to lead a good life, I tell myself.

Well then why is it that I dont believe in God. Does that make me an aethesit? I am not too sure. I know there is something that is bigger than me. Something that "allows" me to write my destiny and ultimately will lead me to fulfill my purpose, whatever that is. Do you want to call that GOD? Well. Maybe it is, maybe it really isnt.

For me, God is definately not in the idol that I worship. I grew up listening to the same stories that everyone does. Stories of Krishna and Shiva. Stories of Jesus and Allah. These remained to be just stories for me. Somehow it never affected my relegious faith or whatever. It never even struck me for an instant that I was from a different relegion as my friend. If this thought could have been planted in my head then I am sure that it could have been planted in a million other heads too.

A strange thing happened to me once. Somehow I feel an intense connection with churches. There is this church that I go to. I go to this church when I am in the lowest point of my life. When I feel all is lost and I just need things to be right. I sit at the church and just talk to myself and at the end of it I wish for something to happen. Contrary to whatever reservations I have about the existance of God and everything, I got my wish EVERY single time. Did I pray at the church, NO. Did I believe in Christianity? NO. I just needed to lift my spirits. I guess this is what the term miracle means.



This is turning out to sound confused isnt it? First I say no god. Then I say yeah maybe there is...miracles. The truth of it is that I have something that I believe in. Whether that belief is what I would call faith in God or myself or destiny - I still dont know. There are times when not knowing things in itself clears out confusion and things seem clearer. Maybe, just maybe this is one of those times.

Kidnap

Film: Kidnap
Cast: Sanjay Dutt, Imraan Khan, Minnisha Lamba, Reema Lagoo, Vidya Malvade and Rahul Dev
Director: Sanjay Gadhvi
Genre: Thriller/Action
Storyline: An ex convict in a bid to settle score with the man who sent him to jail, hence kidnaps the daughter of the industrial giant, leaving behind a series of clues that is supposed to lead him into finding her.


One would expect more out of the man who gave us the blockbuster Dhoom, but sadly he disappoints. At the end of the movie, the only word that strikes your mind would be “What??”

The plot is seemingly original and pretty straightforward. Minus the typical Bollywood masala that is. The movie begins with sketchy representations of a young boy sent to juvenile prison and how hard life is for him there. As the credits begin to come to a close, the cartoon boy begins to have stark resemblance to Imraan Khan. So far so good.

The entire fiasco begins after the kidnapping happens. Although the actual act of the kidnap was well thought of, the gravity of the scene is lost when Kabir (Imraan) gravely declares that “This is a kidnapping” and Sonia (Minnisha) breaks into a fit of exaggerated girly giggles. From there on, the entire movie seems to be more of a comedy of errors than anything else. You have Sanjay Dutt and his stunt double taking turns in running for the action sequences (perhaps one of the only highlights of the movie). Would you call someone who cooks, cleans, buys you designer clothes and takes you to sandy beaches to bathe and spares your life after you have tried to kill him twice (unsuccessfully) your kidnapper? Not in a million years you wouldn’t. The various “clues” that Kabir sends across to Sanjay Dutt (to help him figure out the location as to where his daughter is hidden) remind one of those nursery rhymes that one learnt in school. How the clues are solved is left to your imagination as there is no clear (read humanly understandable) explanation available. The only good thing about the movie was perhaps that there was a big cliché avoided - a possible romance between the kidnapper and the kidnapped. Frankly after seeing so much of Bollywood in a supposed thriller styled along the lines of Hollywood, you almost expect it and the director keeps you guessing until the very end, when they meet again.

The movie boasts of an impressive cast or rather a cast that fails to impress. Minnisha and Vidya are literally dressed to kill, in fact so overdressed that one is initially confused between the mother and the daughter. Sanjay Dutt comes up with an overall decent performance, he switches between the hard core businessman to the gentle and loving father with ease. Reema Lagoo as the mother and grandmother essays her (very) limited role to near perfection. Rahul Dev’s presence in the movie as Dutt’s highly qualified bodyguard leaves you wondering if he was in the movie to simplify or complicate things further. Finally coming to the protagonist, Imraan Khan. Yes he does play a refreshingly different role compared to his chocolate boy image in his debut. Yes he manages to look like someone who is angry and revengeful. But the last thing that he can carry off is the menacing look of a villain who is supposed to give you the chills.

Music is definitely not one of the movies highlights. Maybe Minnisha Lamba in a bikini is. Confused? Well that’s what the movie can do to you at the end of 150 odd minutes. Perhaps you could watch this movie once. Not for the thrills or the chills (which is perhaps what it was intended to be) but for that wonderful and completely pointless experience called wasting time.

How to Save a Life

A favorite from The Fray -

Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
You begin to wonder why you came

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life
How to save a life

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life

Homecoming

Its been over a year since I went to the house and I realize now how much of the house I actually miss. Its really strange that I have always had a knack of establishing contact and instant connections with all things that are non living. I dont know how or why but then I have realized that this is simpler that establishing human relationships. Hmmm. Maybe my connection with the house does have to do with the people living in it. My grandparents.

My earliest memory of my grandfather is quite strange actually. I remember me all of three years old, sitting on his lap. It seems to be afternoon and my grandad is feeding his only grand daughter. Now I take pride in the fact that I am one of his oldest grand children. We cousins are about 8 of us on the whole of which 6 are boys. The so called first born is a boy and is just a mere 3 months older than me. My grand parents were based out of Chennai when I was born and therefore it was only natural that my working parents would entrust me in their care. Not that I complained. Thanks to them, I never ever felt that I dint get the love or the attention that I needed. In fact, I got it so much that I can safely say I was a rather indulgent(read spoilt!!) child.

I enjoyed my afternoon meals with my grandad up until I was about 4 or 5 years old. Grandma was an amazing lady, and she still is. Although not quite as expressive as her husband, I knew that I was the apple of her eye. There was nothing that she wouldnt do for me. My memories of her include playing house house in the kitchen with her and our daily evening walks. I virtually used to push her into "Vakil kadai" and insist on "Aasai" chocolates. I would be rewarded with one everyday and it was a real shame, considering that it costed her a mere Rs 0.25.

Thus I took immense pride in the fact that I was their bundle of joy. Literally. As my cousins were born one by one, I had fully anticipated that things would change. I thought that I would be expected to grow up and take responsibility. To my utter amazement I still was doted on. They had left Chennai more than a decade and a half ago (an agonizing experience for me) and this spelt nothing but DOOM for me. I spent the rest of my "childhood" afternoons eating by myself from a plate and throwing paper rockets at a servant who stretched herself across the main door and slept soundly, oblivious to everything around her.

Coming back to the house and my connection with it. It was a lovely house actually set right across a small lake in Gods Own Country. Yes, I am from the land of coconuts and "kappa"and I have no qualms accepting it. This house was typically everything that a house in Kerala was. It was set bang in between a beautiful garden that my grandad carefully planted and took care of like his own children. My summers were spent getting my hands dirty gardening and watering the plants twice a day. I still remember I used to wake up everyday and pray that it rained so that I would be spared of this daunting task. Gardening was not exactly my cup of tea but I did it anyway just so that I could watch him beam at my shoddy work after I was done.

The house is the best house I have ever lived in. Its nothing short of heaven. It had about 5 bedrooms, 2 living rooms, a study, 2 kitchens, 3 bathrooms and a pooja room. There is an open courtyard right at the center of the house and this is where I have spent a LOT of my time, enjoying the rain when I was younger and putting some of the best thoughts I have had on paper. There is something infinitely inspiring about that house. I loved the house as I had never ever lived in something that had so many rooms in it. I feel a sense of freedom when I go there even today.

The best part about the house is that everytime I go there, I feel a sense of belonging. I feel at home instantly and that feeling is something I havent experienced even in my own home in Chennai. No matter how many times I go there, the house always has something new in store for me. There would be something that my grandfather (once an architect) did to modernize the place. I have told him to repeatedly let things be as it is but he refuses to listen. And I love discovering the little surprises the house has in store for me when I go back.

The truth is that house has completed me... and my life. Whether its the charm of the house in itself, the blessings of the people who have lived and died in that house or just the fact that the two people I love the most live in it; the house has ceased to serve its purpose. It has grown beyond that. To me, it was..it is... and will always be HOME.

Letting Go

It is extremely important to let certain things go. To release them. To cut them loose. People need to understand that no one is playing with marked cards; sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Dont expect to get anything back, dont expect any recognition for your efforts, dont expect for your genius to be discovered or your love to be understood. Complete the circle yourself. Not out of pride, inability or arrogance; but because whatever it is it no longer fits in your life. Close the door. Change the record. Clean the house. Get rid of the dust. Stop being who you were and become who you are.
- Extracted from "The Zahir" by Paulo Coelho

Rain

On Thursday night, just before leaving from work I told my friend Preethi that I hoped it would rain incessantly the next four days. We had a long weekend coming up and I for one had absolutely NOTHING to do with my time. Anyway, whoever coined the phrase "Be careful what you wish for" was dead right. My wish came true. It has been raining cats and dogs here the last four days. And I am totally thrilled.

There was a time in my life that I really hated rains. Rains meant staying at home, power failure, flooded streets and lots of muck splashed on you even if you did manage to go out. I hated it so much that I actually wished we just had summer as a season. On the contrary, my friend Ganesh loved the rain. He loved getting wet in the rain(YUCK!!!!!!!), he loved going out in the rain, dancing in the rain, driving in the rain; in short he loved every aspect of the rain that I hated. I used to wonder why. More importantly I wondered how.

Today I got my answer. I woke up in the morning(ok, close to afternoon) to the sound of thunder. I opened my front door and stood at the doorstep looking up into the dark, stormy sky. I saw the clouds move. I stood there mesmerized with this scene, when all of a sudden, with no warning, it began to pour. Just like that. No drizzle developing into a mighty rush of water. Just a gust of wind that brought with it a whirlwind. Like someone had just turned the shower on in full force.

I stood at my doorstep for a full five minutes before I was snapped out of my revere. Suddenly I realized that I have to write this down. As I was writing, it struck me. I dont hate the rain. I love the fact that I can stay at home all alone, cuddle up under the bed covers, have a hot cup of tea and read a lovely book, or watch a movie. OR just take some time off and spend it getting to know myself again.

Being stuck in monotony for months has made me lose perspective of what I actually am. It would be really fantastic if I could discover me - once more. The search begins with a simple admission:
"I love the rain."

Hope

I look at her, so young, so innocent
bonded in labor, right here.... living in the present.
Her tired eyes give me a tired smile,
that stretches across miles and miles.

I look at her and I see
all that she could one day be
if only she were guided properly.

Was it her fault she was born this way? I ask myself
when will we ever do something to help?
Will we always choose to ignore reality?
Will that poor girl find a good soul in this vast city?

She looks at me and says something
something that I cannot hear.
I know its something important,
but the words are just not clear.

I choose to ignore her like everyone else does,
but my actions scar my conscience.
I think about her as I board the bus
something is not right, it does not make sense.

I get off at the next stop
and head back to where I had seen her.
But she is gone,
just like that..... In a flash.

She hadn't left alone, of this I was sure
she had left behind her grief; her sadness at being so poor.
I turn back and head homeward,
thinking of her tired eyes and tired smile,
that stretched across miles and miles.

I wonder if I would see her again
I really want to, but I realize that I might not.
And then one day, when I eventually do
she may not be the same person,
but a soul that I would have long forgot.

I head out again the next day, the same road, the same route.
I look around hoping to see her again.
Instead I see, at precisely the same spot,
another face, so young, so innocent,
bonded in labor, right here.... living in the present.
His tired eyes, giving me a tired smile
that stretched across miles and miles.

Looking at him standing there, suddenly
I knew what I needed to do.
I took his dirty hand in mine and walked across
to the shop round the corner.

I asked him what he wanted,
but he was too shy to answer.
I got him a big bar of chocolate,
put it in his hands and asked him
"Is this not what you have always needed?"

He looked at the bar of chocolate in his hands
then he looked up at me.
I met his gaze and for the first time in my life
I saw Hope.
He seemed happy and thankful.
And so was I.