Life is waiting...(*remotely surprised* Oh yeah?)

I intend not to jump into an exhaustive review of The Terminal, for I seldom watch movies and even when I do, it is rarely for the purpose of evaluating them. Hence possessing not the sufficient knowledge, I refrain from detailed critique, lest I mess up, I wish not to appear ignorant. Instead this post will shoot off erratically, midway, to a notion that I dwelt upon when the curtains were drawn.

Viktor Navorski (Tom Hanks) is your average immigrant-look-alike (but with absolutely no such intentions, mind you) visiting New York, a city much touted to be a mish-mash of cultures, not unlike Mumbai. Home, for our protagonist, is the fictional East Europian country of Krakozhia, but his linguistic patterns and the script in the guide booklet, point to it possibly being a chip off the old communist block. As is necessary for a story worth telling, circumstances change overnight, a war breaks out in his country whilst he is airborne, his visa is deemed unacceptable at JFK Intn'l and Viktor is forced to spend a part of his lifetime at The Terminal, Gate No 67, with a motley of other play-actors butting in and bowing out time and again.

Spielberg is far from being flawless, some things just don't click, but overall it is worth the popcorn, and Hanks proves his mettle once again, a sincere performance, understated, yet effective. I usually watch out for background scores, but I found none to "earmark" for future reference.

Airport Official : Are you afraid of returning to your country (since its war-ravaged)?
Viktor Navorski : Not afraid. It is home.

Home...
is it really where the heart is?
There are so many of us who are away from where we actually belong to. Employment or studies (I cannot think of any other reason), we blend in comfortably, save for a few hiccups (expected), and very rarely would we chuck all this up and go back to our roots. This is home now, we say. Would we return, forever? (I would refrain from querying if we are afraid of doing so) Hesitation, no we might never make it back, yes, we are afraid, what if we felt alienated "back home"? Most of my peers, I observe, prefer to stay put in their new surroundings.

Reminds me of a conversation I had a few months ago with a Tamil from Mumbai in a train headed for Ernakulam.
"Where are you going", I asked. "Home", he answered, "I am from Kanyakumari. I am accompanying my wife and children, but shall be returning immediately. Its the annual_grandparents_visit for my kids". A slight pause and then, "But they get bored pretty easily, they have grown up in Mumbai, and the lifestyle is so different". His wife, "Sometimes you have to leave home, for better opportunities, you know".

Yes, I very well understand, we live in a practical world, albeit a ruthless one at times, and here the mind rules over the heart, or so you are forced into believing.

Current Music - Romeo and Juliet - Dire Straits
Interesting lyrics, especially the part where Juliet, standing by the window, is accused of saying "Oh Romeo, yeah you know, I used to have a scene with him"

...and she stood in the doorway, eyes downcast, lips pursed, hands listlessly moving through her hair, lost in thought, and no, she wasn't admiring the sunset, she was waiting for the night to pass her by...

Silence
Submission they took it to be
The mouth
Gagged, the knot double
Hands
Tightly bound, the ropes cutting into flesh
The sore
Festering, unattended
Silence
Grossly misunderstood
Nerves,
Frayed, precariously vulnerable
Akin to
A volcano on the verge of eruption


(I exAAAAggerate for the sake of verse)

All and sundry, they tell you to be patient, and some of them, unfortunately, sermonize whilst holding the reins of your destiny. They speak of times that shall come very soon, and oh yes, they are not proved wrong, "those times" do drop in for a tête-à-tête, apologising profusely for being late, but alas, by then, the tea has turned cold, and the association not relished as much.

If there ever were to be a Nobel Prize for patience, no prizes for guessing the worthy recipient, but the award is posthumous, mind you. Things take time. Especially things that have an upper hand in deciding your future.

Current Music - Vellai Pookal - Kannathil Muthamittal
(A soothing song, if there ever was one)

Ganpati Bappa Morya!!

My weekend getaway and a very art(i)ful one at that!

Come Ganesh Chaturthi and I look out (in fact literally_and_otherwise_speaking, crane my neck) for the very much traditional and rhythmic mini_cymbal-produced music-n-dance show that accompanies a few welcome_and_farewell Lord Ganesh processions. Its more commonly known as lejhim in Marathi and is usually executed by school going children. Additionally, I, like some others, fail to understand why *most* (and now you know why my neck hurts) stick to the Kaanta Laga/Mungda/Kaala Kauwa routines. Yeah, I am a stickler for getting some things done the right way.

Now that the topic has sprung up..
I had a significantly huge postal stamps collection way back, sadly that scrapbook is nowhere to be found today. Have turned to Ganpati idols now, (not deliberately, come to think of it), but the Elephant God, in plastic/brass/wood seems to have occupied quite a many nook and cranny at home. I guess I should consciously strive towards increasing the collection now.

Current Music - The instrumental theme from the Last Of The Mohicans
(Highly recommended, 'em bagpipes, they take centrestage in this one)

Cross my heart and swear...

This time 'round is it the wrong place at the right time, or the right place at the wrong time?

For once, I wish fate would stop being so reliable, so boringly hackneyed, stop playing it straight and start playing games instead.

Current Music - Love Is All Around - Wet Wet Wet

Strangers
Like winter to summer, spring to autumn
Yet familiar

Familiar
For seasons they be after all
Yet one deftly avoids the other, strange that is not, or on the contrary is it?

Its so much easier to shirk than meet certain things head on, so much easier to side-step than trip over 'em, doesn't really require much to leave 'em lying in the cold storage apparently unnoticed, rather than handle them hot and blazing, does it..

Current Music - Noor-Un-Allah - Meenaxi
(The entire album is excellent hearing, my most favourite being Sonu Nigam's solo - Do Kadam, with the instruments played towards the end rounding off his rendition in a superb manner)

Ha(i)rrowing experiences

Post-shearing-of-locks conversations should be brief

"Haircut?"
"Yeah"

---End of story---

Alas, more often that not, the consequence of this trimonthly activity is always dissected by the more-Rapunzel and the much-much-lesser-Rapunzel (assuming I am the Rapunzel-ian standard here), with bouquets/brickbats being presented/hurled to/at the hairdresser/barber (usage of term strictly as per your chromosomal make-up) too once in a while.

Needless to say, of the lot that shouldn't be sleeping on their job, Ms/Mr Scissor-hands rank in the top 10.

Current Music: Elangathu - Pithamagan
(Saw the song on TV some days ago, could sniff that the storyline was a li'l hatke and later was pleased to know that this was indeed the case. Hope to catch it sometime)

A gentle tug at the silvery thread that binds
And poetry and prose glide towards 'em
How...oh how do they...
See it bright and full on a new moon's day or cast shadows on a cold winter's
Gaze at the water in a pond long dried up or seek the stars in a sky lonesome

Touring the blog-dom can be very informative, (**now I know what XYZ did from the time he/she brushed his/her teeth to the time he/she had dinner;)), some of the hyperlinks have opened up a plethora of wonderfully crafted posts, thoughts and opinions I would otherwise never have privy to, in an internet-less world. And as I hop from one blog to another, I choose to linger on those particular posts just a little while longer, only to savour the talent that simmers beneath..

**post scriptum from PS : No offence meant to any blogger and his/her blog. Readers inadvertently shoo-ed away have been requested to return ;)