Black Swan it is..

The experience of watching a well made film is almost like having a juvenile crush. A good movie lifts you off your feet, inspires you and evokes emotions even from the dingiest corner of your soul. However I faced a dichotomy this time as I had to choose between two movies I desperately wanted to see. Black Swan and The king's Speech. But as luck would I have it, I ended up watching Black swan twice in the theater.What I went through during those few hours aroused certain questions in my mind, questions which I have been afraid of asking myself because I was not quite sure what their answers might be.

Nina Sayers is a ballet dancer and an obedient daughter. She comes across a sincere and honest person, yet her life is mundane and dry restricting her to the boundaries of workplace and home.Although she gets the role of the Swan Queen,things hardly turn out, the way she wants them to.The efficacy with which she dances as the White Swan is beyond compare, but she falters every time the Black Swan comes into being.Also,the way sexuality is treated in this movie is sublunary and on your face. Vincent Cassel, as the lascivious dance coach advices Nina to "touch herself" before she tries to engage her engage her audience.And as she begins her search for herself, she gets further lost in the complexities of life.The otherwise fragile and petite Nina, gets jealous,feels desired and slams the door on her mother's face, something she could not even dream of doing, a few weeks back.Unable to take any more strain, she starts inflicting pain on herself in a desire to be the most perfect dancer, the world has ever seen.

The very fact that Darren Aronofsky could even thinking of taking something as pristine and beautiful as ballet and transforming it into a psychological thriller, makes him one of the most talented people around.There are not many dialogues in the movie, but Portman's movements make the journey worthwhile.

Nina's director always told her to be a little less perfect as sometimes it was more important to let go. She wanted to prove that she could play her part perfectly without compromising on anything. In the end, Nina did dance the Swan lake with efficacy and grace but she had to let go of the person she had always been. She had finally achieved what she had ever wanted to, but the price to pay was too much.

After watching the movie, I wondered-"Did I also have a Nina Sayers in me?".My condition is not half as dramatic as hers, but even then did I have any deep dark desires which are waiting to break through? Honestly, I don't know and I am not too curious either.It is just that when you are used to being a certain person, you tend to ignore a facet of your personality which is best when left unexplored. At times I feel I just think too much. I mean I can't begin to tell you how guilty I felt when I had about 2 ml of Vodka at a friend's birthday. It does not matter I know, but I still feel accountable as my Mom does not know about it yet. Do I have to tell her everything?Yes,I do.

Anyways, The movie is brilliant. Do watch it IN THE THEATERS, if you haven't watched it yet.Quoting a reviewer-"I am glad Aronofsky is able to do what he does. His brutal and uncompromising style is definitely not for everyone, and it's not box office gold, but for those viewers who connect with what he's doing, the experience is truly something special. "

Time Will Tell...

“Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.”

They met each other in college. Their friendship did not take much time to blossom into love. They were the stereotypes of their class. They were not okay with it but they did not mind it either. Love is such a vast feeling; however the possibilities of falling in love are very few. You either have to be childhood friends or meet in college. And in that way every couple, some way or the other was a typecast, but in each other’s eyes, they couldn’t probably be more perfect.

Similar was the situation with David and Manvi. If anyone saw them separately, they could have never believed that “people” who are just so different can possibly be going out together. David was half English. Manvi was a Punjabi, although she did not look like one. They had a height difference of almost one foot, which made them look like brother and sister. Manvi’s hair was mousy in colour, her cheeks were pale and she had long exceeded her ideal weight by ten full pounds. As far as David is concerned, he was PERFECT by all modern standards. When asked about Manvi he would proudly rattle off in his broken hindi-“Laila ko Majnu ki Aakhon Se Dekho.”(See Laila through Majnu’s eyes, only then can you appreciate her real beauty). Like the everlasting tale of Laila and Majnu, TIME again stood testament to witness a Love so pristine and pure, that it was tempted to challenge two lovers once again. In 21st Century, where “Move on” seems to be the IT word, Can the power of true LOVE ever survive? Can it outshine the troubles that lie on its path and emerge as a Winner? Time had to see, so did David and Manvi who had already promised each other a lifetime of togetherness.

David was in office one day, when he gets a call from Soumya, One of Manvi’s closest friends. He was surprised to hear that she had fainted in her work place and had to be carried back home immediately. He rushed to her apartment to find his otherwise jovial better half,looking weak and extremely tired.

“What happened, baby?”
“Ah..Ummm…we..ll…nothing really, I am fine”
“No you are not; I will take to the doctor, first thing tomorrow morning”
“Please don’t do that. It is just that I did not sleep properly last night…you know na how much I hate having tablets. Give me another chance, please?”
“Chance? It is your health for God’s sake”
“Pllleaaaaaseeeee”
“Okay! But this is the last time, and I mean it.”
“That’s like my baby”-said Manvi as she pulled him close and planted a kiss on his cheek.

The next morning Manvi vomited blood and hit her head on the wash-basin, after which collapsed on the bathroom floor. The next time she opened her eyes, she was in the hospital surrounded by dozens of bouquets from friends and relatives.

“What am I, a terminally ill patient or something?”- She said on finding David sitting by her side.
“Ha, nice one, Now please be a good girl and rest, while I go talk to the doctor.”
“Rest, what rest? I can’t even remember the last time I was awake, Please don’t leave me here.”
“I will be back, I promise”-said David as he left the room.
Little did he know that what he was about to hear would change his life, FOREVER.
******************************
David rushed into the washroom, crying out loud in disbelief. Why did this happen to her? ‘Her’ of all people? Someone who would not even hurt a mosquito, why? Why? WHY?
Manvi had been diagnosed with Cervical Cancer. She was in her second stage. Chemo-therapy would help but it could not guarantee her recovery. Her condition was delicate and a decision had to be taken, fast, very fast.

When informed about her present condition, Manvi could not help but laugh.
“Me, Cancer? Impossible”
“Everything, will be fine please cooperate”
“Fine? I am Fine? The doctor does not know anything!”
Without saying anything else, David hugged her tight. With moments Manvi melted in his arms, crying out loud, unable to register any of the recent happenings. For all she new, this could not be happening to her, not now at least.

A week later, Manvi’s treatment began. For a girl who despised medicines and syringes, chemo therapy was something way out of her league. Twice a week, she was made to succumb to the most excruciating pain but after some time she had become obvious to all bodily activities. What made her weep was David, who stood outside the operation hall, watching her helplessly without make an effort to wipe his tears effortlessly flowing down his cheek. Time also stood beside them, thinking that this was just a passing phase, and David would soon grow tired of this and
just resign to his fate.

But David did not give up, he stood by Manvi giving her as much support as he could. After six sessions of therapy, Manvi had lost incredible amount of weight and she was nearly bald. She felt that she could take no more, but for David’s sake she did not say a word. She wanted to get married, have kids, but everything seemed impossible right now.

Four months and ten sessions later, Manvi was reduced to a mere vegetable, unable to respond to almost anything happening near her. But that night was different, that night she felt uncannily strong. She felt capable of doing almost anything, and she knew what she wanted more than anything else in the world.

“How are you feeling, honey?”-David asked as he entered the room.
“Fine”
“I see.”
“Make Love to me.”
“What?”
“Have you gone insane or something? What about your no sex before marriage rule?”
“Please. Do as I say, Make love to me, please.”
“You are too weak; please don’t make me do this.”
“Ok, fine, go then, Leave me alone.”- said Manvi as she turned her head to the other side.

David looked at her intently, he wondered why she had such a sudden demand, but he knew he could do anything to get that smile back on her face. He turned her face towards him, and kissed her gently as he slid into her bed, under the same blanket. She kissed him back as he undressed her. He caressed her body tenderly as he made love to her, trying to be as careful as possible. That night, they slept in each other’s arms without worrying about lay in the future. It was the present that mattered; it was all they ever had.
Manvi had died that night; just a few hours after David fulfilled her last wish. She had written a note to him saying-“If I were a bird, you made me fly,
If I was a human, you gifted me the entire sky. (Ya, I know I am not entirely poetic but so what?)
Thank You for being there for me. I am finally convinced that you love me, much more than I ever did. Sorry for making your life such a mess, and forgive me for leaving early.
-Yours forever”.
**************************************
David stood next to the burning pyre, lost in his thoughts, thinking about a world where he would be again united with the love of his life. TIME stood next to him, crying out loud. But David could not hear it, nor could the people around him.

Why I write...

What do you do when you realize that people from London, St Louis and Florida check out your blog in a span of two days??Jump with joy may be??Well, I do much more!I ACTUALLY make it my facebook status and go around informing random people about it.So much so even a friend would ignore me in college, afraid(read:terrified) to be meted with a news which she has heard for about a zillion times by now. Yeah, that does me make a very emotional person. I am overjoyed by anything remotely happy and even a chick flick can make me cry.

Some people have told me that my articles are becoming a little far-fetched.Quoting a person who had commented on my last piece saying that-"It just didnt feel lyk coming frm the heart...more a tool to showcase ur empathy towards prostitution".I don't feel the need to justify myself but I would definitely like to make a point.See, the fact is if I don't feel strongly about something, I would not write about it in the first place.Also, writing a straight forward, essay type article would come easily to me, but sadly I don't find it challenging or a creatively engaging process.

Personally, I have always believed trying touch a person's heart rather than implanting a certain perception in his mind.It is because of this I write the way I do.I would be lying if I said, I write for myself.I write because I get inspired by the strangest of things.I write because I want to share my ideas with people all over the world.Also, I don't post quite often because I need to be convinced myself that I can execute an idea to the best of my abilities.That does make things complex but I am used to it. For me writing is an art, something which needs it own time and space. However I take criticisms positively and hope I am able to add on to the lives of people who take their time out to go through my blog/mails.

Some say I am a deep thinker,that I find comparisons between the most unlikeliest of things.I don't deny any of it because I believe in the fact that you do not need to be a Shobhaa De to attract attention.People like her are very fortunate as the masses have a certain attachment towards a popular figure more than anybody else.Socialites like her should take special care to ensure that whatever they write gives a sense of direction to her readers rather than confusing them.But sadly,hardly Indian writers/columnists write anything remotely positive about the society or the nation.

I have been asked by numerous people that why do I maintain a blog?They feel that a common man's blog is supposed to wither away into oblivion as I would be no match to, say a Chetan Bhagat or a Arundhati Roy.Even Amitabh Bacchan did not become a star overnight.Hence, If I am so apprehensive about the outcome, I would never do justice to whatever profession I take up.

Anyways,I feel I have just said too much now.And yes, if you have a passion for something nothing else matters. I will continue to write, no matter how cliched or "subversive" I seem to be.Lastly quoting Jack Dann-"For me, writing is exploration; and most of the time, I'm surprised where the journey takes me."



P.s-I love my blog.It is just too awesome.

A hundred miles away from home....a hundred miles

"Naya Maal hai, Chalega?
"Sab Chalega"

She stood in front of him without a care in the world.She was fourteen, she looked twenty. Time had made had brave but not enough to comprehend or prepare herself for what was coming next.
He entered the room, drunk and fed up with his life. He was thirty, single and jobless.Luckily,his father still earned enough to accommodate his opulent lifestyle.It was not that he did not try to cope up, but he never tried enough.He was not egoistic neither was he courageous enough to say "sorry". He wanted to settle down but the prospect of getting married scared him.So, once again he was standing in a place where he visits often.The only place which sets him free,where he can still feel overwhelmingly powerful.

The door closed with a bang.She felt a sudden shiver run down her spine.She undressed and turned back standing face to face with the stranger who had just entered the room.
He stared at her with a blank expression on his face.Her face was soiled and she seemed like a child in front of his 6'4'' frame.A cheap cotton brassiere clung on to her young bosom as she approached him with steadied grace.She was instructed that the customer might be shy, hence she should always be the one who initiates the process.The service must be such that he comes back wanting for more.

He looks down at her as she unbuttons his shirt.He picks her up in his arms effortlessly and kisses on her lips.A hundred things occurred in Mira's mind then, but the only thing she could later recollect was that kiss which instantaneously transformed her from a young girl to a woman.He carried her back to the bed and removed the last piece of garment covering her body.Instead of a promiscuous one night stand,what awaited him was a vulnerable soul ready to succumb to the plight of her destiny.He wondered whether he was pondering too much.A voice ringed in his head-"C'mon Man, she is a whore, just do it.Whats there to think about?"

He unzipped his trousers and within moments his male hardness penetrated her body tearing it apart by the sheer intensity of his sexual desire.Tears flowed down her eyes but she was too shocked to react.She held him tight and closed her eyes unable to bear the pain.In spite of that she continued to be victimized till she could not feel herself anymore.She grew numb and cold with every passing second.

Vikram had never experienced such satisfaction in his life.He felt as if he had attained salvation.He let go of her for the first time after what seemed like eternity.Her feeble hands brushed past his shoulders and fell on the bed as effortlessly as the rest of her body.She lay unconscious on the bed, bleeding internally.

Mira was fast asleep on her hospital bed unaware of the conversation going on in the same room.
"How is she now, Doctor?"-Vikram asked.
"She is fine...BUT"
"BUT sterile, she can never conceive after this incident."
"What?Why?How...."
"Viiikkkrraaam"-someone called from behind.
"Yes,dad"
"Who is unwell?"- he asked concerned.

He looked back at the Mira.He knew he would never forget her.And he knew for a fact that at least in this lifetime "Sonagachi" would cease to exist for him....slowly but steadily it will be a name he can no more identify with...

"No one is.I just came for a few tests.That is all."
"Let us go then?"
"Sure,LET US GO."

*************************************************
This week I have completed one year of blogging.A lot has changed since the first time I had started writing but that passion still remains intact.This May,I will be going for my first internship.My options are already decided but my MOM still does not know that I want to work for one of the biggest red light Area in Asia.She will never agree, and I will never back down.
When I think about young girls being sold off and dragged into the world of prostitution, I feel extremely helpless and lucky at the same time.Lucky because my life seems heaven in comparison to theirs, helpless because those girls deserve a life just like mine,if not better.
This post was just an attempt to perceive the situation and write about it.Lastly, I would like to end with a quote-"Prostitution will always lead into a moral quagmire in democratic societies with capitalist economies; it invades the terrain of intimate sexual relations yet beckons for regulation. A society's response to prostitution goes to the core of how it chooses between the rights of some persons and the protection of others."