'The Descendants' and other winsome films

It's the awards season once again..... and a gala time for cine-buffs like me. I have been lucky to feast on a really enjoyable movie-fare of late. Not all of them are nominees at awards ceremonies, yet all of them have had something special to have me hooked in the first place, and to have recommended them to my fellow cinema-lovers. Some of these films I caught at the fag end of the last year, and the others have been savored this month itself. Here they are:

The Descendants

We Need To Talk About Kevin

War Horse

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of The Unicorn

Bedrooms

50/50

The Tree of Life

Moneyball

The Help

The Artist

Bridesmaids

Real Steel

The Ides of March

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows: Part 2

Drive

Rio

Puss in Boots

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

Crazy, Stupid, Love.

Wanna Speak vs Don't Wanna Speak

If you have a chance to express yourself,

to speak your mind, to get listened to,

you should grab it with both arms, grab the chance to speak.

That seems to be the age-old wisdom,

and it's even the street-smart funda that helps

one create a space for oneself, get one noticed and accounted for.

But the big question is: Do we always want to speak?

Do we take refuge in silences, or in partial utterances?

Do we deliberately speak in an ambiguous tone?

Do we obfuscate our communication?

What makes us grapple with the dilemma - To-speak or Not-to-speak?

There are times when I feel

I need to renew my spirit,

gather my strength,

and make myself heard for not only

selfish reasons, but for a greater cause.

But, then I wonder

if it is more important to make some noise,

some flutter, some unrest,

and perhaps some upsets,

than to contemplate,

meditate,

let my mind wander beyond the immediate,

relax, ponder, and come to terms

within.

A small flower, a tiny crystal,

or a seashell can make more sense

than the best of words uttered by us.

Words are, after all, just words.

Things happen all the time,

in silences, and amidst noises,

and even in the cosmic harmony

and divine melodies which need not be

planned or prepared for......

whether I speak or I embalm my

expression in a prolonged silence

I do need to lose, and subsequently,

find myself again and again.

The Year That Was

2011...... the year that was

It's been more than two weeks into the new year.

Yet, I think it is the right time to look back

into the year that was.

2011 has been good and bad for a lot of things

- for me, personally speaking.

I lost my father last year, and

that's something that's left a deep void, within.

The year was quite traumatic for me at times.

I found it difficult to cope with

many changes on the personal front.

There were a lot of negative feelings

that were generated.

Some spilled over...... some I tried to hold in.

Relationships underwent a sea-change.

However, once I got over the immediacy,

I could understand my feelings better,

I could diffuse some of the tension that had

built up inside of me.

I could even calmly look back

and act sanely.

Well, I know that our feelings, as tools,

can serve us well, only if the crystallize

naturally, and if we have someone to share

them with. The trick is to express ourselves

and be heard...... and it's this very trick

that I fail to master....... maybe I have

been making all the wrong choices all along

and crying my lungs out for help to

all the wrong persons!

Coming to the city of Kolkata,

my city, my El Dorado, the year 2011

was positively special for Mamata Banerjee,

Messi, and Dhanush.

Mamata Banerjee came to power in West Bengal,

and has been ruling the roost, seated at the Writer's

Building, and enjoying the support of Kolkatans

immensely.

Messi and Dhanush won our hearts

with football-fever and music-mania

respectively, like never before.

It was a dream come true for soccer-crazy

Kolkatans when Messi came to the city

to play. I could not be at the Salt Lake Stadium

to witness the game first hand, but the palpable

excitement trickled down no doubt.

Dhanush came to conquer Kolkatans' hearts

at the fag end of the year. His Kolaveri di

had already gripped the entire nation,

and I can say that I have never seen

the people of my city to be so unreasonably

obsessed with a song - a song which has

truly crossed over - not since the Hassan

Jahangir rage, or the Altaf Raja craze,

or, to a lesser extent, the Dayal baba

kala khaba phenomenon.

Numerous spoofs and parodies have

followed. Which reasserts the song's

unique appeal.

Last year, Kolkata also witnessed

tragedies of great proportions,

the AMRI fire claiming the lives of

helpless patients being the worst.

Early last year, my dad had been admitted

to the same nursing facility and hence

the place has had a special place in my

quota of memories.

In 2011, apart from losing my dad,

a dear one snapped ties with me,

after seven long years of a lovely

relationship.

I also happened to befriend a very

special person. And it is a unique sort

of a bond that I am cherishing, I'm loving

it in all its uniqueness and warmth.

It is this very person who has said

these special words:

Life is like a book, a memoir.....

you experience, you treasure

the special moments, or you

simply disengage yourself from

the difficult ones, and move on.....

It is indeed very hard, and I know that clinging on does not

help at all. I need to find myself and keep moving......

I cannot afford to stand or stoop, hover around or hanker.....

It is indeed very hard, and I know that clinging on does not

help at all. I need to find myself and keep moving......

I cannot afford to stand or stoop, hover around or hanker.....

I need to look at the road ahead......

there are maybe a few paces left of the distant run,

but those paces better be resolute and brisk,

the it's better to be equipped with confidence,

if not luck; may I indulge my foolish zeal if poorly

equipped to take a calculated risk.

Unlike an old acquaintance who simply wishes that I write a new chapter,

have a new beginning, I would even like to look ahead for the joy

of rewriting some old chapters, reinterpreting life, reinterpreting

my dreams, dream anew. I live because I dream, and I dream because

I am still alive. Yes, I am alive to the opportunity of adding on not just new chapters but maybe a new old story, if not a whole new story.