Imbroglio

A few days ago, I was faced with yet another controversy that required me to watch Aparna Sen's 15 park avenue. The movie itself was brilliant, bringing back faith in the quality of Indian cinema... &c &c. Unfortunately, as is typical of her movies, the end remains 'open to interpretation'. I do admire the creativity that goes behind bringing about such an end... it must take either a totally different mindset or an immense amount of strength to leave your creations in the lurch- to fend for themselves, so to speak; leaving it to the characteristics of the creations to lead the way beyond the "end" of the story. I only said 'admire'. My preference is an entirely differnt thing- I prefer solid endings. Happy, sad, astonishing, funny, whatever it is, just tell me what happens in the end. I usually get involved into one or another or all of the characters in the story which means that I land up needing to fend for myself in an open end. I usually manage to steer my imagination down some lane or the other, and my optimism ensures the characters' (and consequently, my own) happiness at the end of the (extended) story. In case of those stories with a decided end, I usually imagine the sequences of events that could have happened in the course of the story, or those sequences that are not particularly explicit. It is perhaps for this reason that I like knowing the end of a story before reading it- (yes, I do. Don't be so shocked) I like getting there in the confidence that the 'end' exists. Suspense does not excite me, anticipation does. I like waiting for something that I know for sure is to happen; as for what I do not know- reality is so full of it that I prefer to limit the unknown to the bare minimum of my life.

!! spoiler warning !! [not that it matters really... how old is the movie anyway?]

Coming back to the subject matter of this post- 15 park avenue- the story leves it to the viewer to figure out an end. In this case, I simply could not. There was nothing I could think of, no explaination I could offer to ease the suspense. It was a story without an end, and I wanted to leave it as a story without an end. Unlike me? Yes. For some reason, the movie did not leave me in any suspense- it left me calm, more like one of those passers-by watching the confusion, not really bothered about the conclusion. Enough for me to have known that Mithi seemed in bliss, whatever pain or anticipation she put her sister in. I watched the movie to take a stance, and ended on taking none. The reason I watched it was that my mother (a teacher, and consequently, involved in discussions with other teachers who are all equally vehement about the correctness of their own views) was involved in an argument regarding the movie. One contention was that Mithi's sister was schizophrenic, and imagines that Mithi is. The other was that Mithi becomes one of those neglected women on the street who keep turning up through the movie (ominous signs, supposedly), and her sister eventually begins to lead her own life. For my part, I am content that I have not turned schizophrenic (or so I believe) and am happy to continue living in my own life that offers ample opportunity to question reality. After all, we all live in our own worlds, created by our perception, processed by and acted upon by our beliefs of the ideal world, and there can be no 'right' or 'wrong', yet here we are, each vehemently leading those we can into thinking as we do.

Lost

Not too pleased with the situation at hand- The prospect of leaving a comfort zone carved for me yet again. I’m going Home in less than 3 weeks for over two months. I don’t seem to be too excited. I do look forward to it- How can I not like the idea of running back to the bliss of my family’s warm embrace? It’s just that I’m not counting down the days till we leave, not thinking of packing up, not planning the vacation- nothing. I’m just content with the idea of going back. Fact is that I’ve learnt to love this corner of Kolkata – A place I lost in a dream and found in reality. I don’t mean that this is the land of milk and honey that I needed to reach- (I still doubt any place comes close to Bangalore in that respect) what I do mean is that I’ve taken root here, so to speak. The word ‘home’ now means the thought of my room in the hostel (when in class) or the comfort of the hundred familiar faces that support life without choking it. I have got used to it, and getting me used to better comforts all over again seems just as frightening as getting used to lesser ones. I would now refer to this as ‘home’ and that of Bangalore as ‘Home’. Of course I prefer Bangalore to college; familiarity never has bred contempt as far as I’m concerned. All I’m saying is that I’m going to miss home when I’m Home. Kudos, Kolkata.

Haven

Noplace Else!

After all, its here that life began, and its here that I breathe myself in the cool weather- oh all right, seemingly cold weather after a 33 Celcius, but its still worth it (that's highly understatedd). Its worth the craziness, the extravagance, the laziness, the simplicity of the complications... everything. Besides a brilliantly warm blanket of starved affections, Life has suddenly started playin in slow motion, encompassing all those lovely items I missed on my headlong dive out. perhaps after the swim I may reach the banks, perhaps new streams, but the roots of a tree are firmly in place , though the branches may spread for eternity...

Home at last.

Classroom joys...

Rainy weather Friends...

Looking back, the pleasure of having no work would not be enjoyable without the presence of these brilliant people around a girl shivering in the rain... A big thank you to ye all. To those that sheltered me from the rain, those that unberdened the huddled shoulders, those that laughed in the rain to wink at me, those that helped me crib, those that ensured I got good sense knocked in, and last but not least- those that ensured that I didn't try eatin ice creams in the cold. To those that were there, I take a bow.

After a gruelling session of projects and vivas, I finally decide that a break is the last thing to miss out on, so here I am, enjoying the pleasures of internet without work... the worst is yet to come, but the calm before the storm is to be enjpyed while it lasts... :)

Ah well... here I am sittin at a cyber wasting time doing nothing. Why would I do so? Simply because I can. Its quite perfect, the excuse of the lack of resources and the want to do nothing... as different from the lack of the want to do something, it is the want to do nothing that drives one in a chaotic maze of work to be done for an indescribable end that is too obvious to be ignored. Despite the nonsense that gets penned, there are certain undeniably sane thoughts that do go unmentioned- but thats restricted to the days of hangovers. (Did ye know, by the way, that every hour of sleep missed can be equated to a pint of alcohol? Drunk??? indeed, thats most of my life here :P) Perhaps some old case or the other will soon catch my attention before the day is done, or some sociologically objective observation that no one would have missed to take a stance on. Until then, this object of the universal conspiracy against itself remains
Uncontrolled.