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Frangipani, Artists, and Angels.

“In the yellow street lights, to the cool breeze of a full moon night, a flower floated towards us. Nila grasped it in between her fingers, offered it to me, and asked, ‘Its name is Frangipanni, whenever you see this, will you think of me?” Thus wrote Kaber Vasuki in his song ‘Frangipanni’, about a girl named Nila. She is a beacon of hope that sheds light on the souls lost in life's chaos. She isn’t so pure as it might seem, or is there any human being that has ever been devoid of any impurities? But her presence was soothing for those who had the grace of knowing her. Nila is someone who giggles when the night’s cold breeze wafts the thick smell of Jasmine flowers along with it; she is someone who packs her bag and leaves for Calcutta because, why not? She is someone whom you will wish to know, to have that shed of light to reach upon you, when described by such a songwriter as Kaber Vasuki. That is why, when her death flows in like a poem in this song, I felt my heart yearning ...
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Incendies (2010)

  Incendies (2010) is a French movie directed by Denis Villeneuve. The opening scene of the film is by far the most unnerving I have ever watched. It begins with a wide-angle shot of a large landscape and gradually zooms in on the inside of a shattered building. Inside, there were a few children whose hair was being trimmed by some adults. As one of the kids’ hair was being cut, the camera focused on him. And that kid gives a cold stare down, looking right at us through the camera. That stare was so unnerving for me as it was trying to say a lot of things. That stare was filled with sadness, helplessness, and pure anger. The stare was so diabolical that it looked straight at my soul and said, “You take your life for granted, and I am angry at you for that.” This 3-minute opening of Incendies is a movie of its own. A kid with lots of questions and confusion on what is happening, a kid who was born in a world filled with hatred and horror. And the anger that he feels is something t...

In the Café of Lost Youth

  ”In the Cafe of Lost Youth” by Patrick Modiano is a profound work. It is deeply philosophical, aesthetically pleasing, and filled with brilliant prose. The story is incoherent in its form, with different timelines, shifting perspectives, and various locations. But everything revolved around only one character, Louki. This novella is about this girl, told from multiple perspectives, including her own, but still, when I finish reading, I am as new to her as I was when I first read Chapter 1. Just as all the other characters felt about her. She doesn't hide much; she is as open to others as she is to herself.   But still, there is always a mysterious aura in her presence. Roland is one of the characters from whose perspective we get to know more about Louki. He falls in love with her, dreams of a future, and in her way, Louki also reciprocates the love. He is so intrigued by the place where it all is happening, Paris. He believes that Paris has few places that he calls ‘Neu...

Are we Gods?

“Is it possible for me to watch all the videos on YouTube within my lifetime?” It all started when a 24-year-old jobless man asked this question in Chat GPT out of mere curiosity. The one-word answer to this question is that it is impossible, which I expected it to be. Let's bring in some math that makes this a little interesting. Over 500 hours of YouTube videos are uploaded every minute.   That’s roughly 30,000 hours of videos in an hour (or) 720,000 hours in a day.   Let’s see that I live up to 100 years and I start watching from day one to the end without sleep or food for 24/7 of my lifetime, that is roughly 876,000 hours of watch time. And there are 720,000 hours of video uploaded every single day.   It is simply impossible to watch all the videos, even if I am an immortal being with a goal to see the end of the line of YouTube videos. (From Chat GPT)  Now, YouTube is just an element of the internet, one part that comes under the umbrella of content on the ...

“The God of Small Things” is the God of small things.

Great stories. “The Great Stories are the ones you have heard and want to hear again. The ones you can enter anywhere and inhabit comfortably. They don’t deceive you with thrills and trick endings. They don’t surprise you with the unforeseen. They are as familiar as the house you live in. Or the smell of your lover’s skin. You know how they end, yet you listen as though you don’t. In the way that, although you know that one day you will die, you live as though you won't. In the Great Stories, you know who lives, who dies, who finds love, and who doesn’t. And yet you want to know again.” (Pg no. 229) This quote from The God of Small Things sums up this book, and made me re-read the story. This review contains spoilers, but they don’t affect the reading experience. Even in the novel, the first few chapters describe all the major events that will happen later. This book does not concern itself with spoilers and plot twists; it wants to tell a story and demands our attention from t...

The Land of Graveyards.

 Poets writing about flowers and birds will keep writing about a world without borders. Writers who saw the unpleasant truth will keep pondering the borders we drew within ourselves. Dreamers keep on dreaming about a world where the children don't have to pay the price for the deeds of their parents. As they keep writing and pondering and dreaming, War mongers will not stop mongering for more wars. Terrorisers will not stop terrorising. The drummers and those who lit the firecrackers keep on dancing to the cries of mothers who stand beside their dead children, who paid the price. And Kashmir, The land of graveyards. Where the corpses of humans nourish the land, making the Kashmiri Iris bloom brighter and Green Apples taste sweeter. Where the smoke-filled lungs of Jammu heaved with the sound 'Azadi' that muffled by the thudding of military boots. This Kashmir will always be the child who paid the price for Her parents' deed.

BLACK MOTHS OR MOUSTACHES

Gauri was the only girl child to her parents and was blind when she was born. After 12 long and happy years of childhood, she gained sight one day. In her words, it was “the mysterious event,” but it was every bit as usual as her story goes. Irrespective of her inability to see, Gauri had a childhood of a million colors. She had two elder brothers who loved her unconditionally, but there was always a physical barrier between them. Their realities felt so different, though they had a similar childhood. The brothers were in a separate world of their imaginations, along with toy cars, bikes, and guns. That was a place where Gauri had no importance, still, she could be seen stumbling behind her brothers. For Gauri, the world was what she imagined. The disparity in their world did not bother her, as her inability to see also made her not see those differences.  The world that she imagined was a beautiful and happy one. It had everyone and everything she dearly loved: her parents, her ...