Movie Review-Jolly LLB 2

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When Jolly LLB was released, it won over a lot of hearts and became a moderate success at the box office. It is a simple film with simple elements. A plain and simple story, simple and honest characters, most importantly, an everyday man everyone could relate to. A man who fought and defeated a big shot lawyer, though also because his passion pulled the judge in his favour.
Come the sequel, and the straight as a needle character is changed at the start. Jagdishwar Mishra, urf Jolly (Akshay Kumar) comes off as more of a player. He plays the system and people’s emotions to get his way. It is only when the plot thickens and he is way out of his depth do we get to see the straight common man being troubled by those with more power.
The story is full of twists and turns and bureaucracy and greed in the echelons of the police. Jolly LLB 2 is more majestic, cinematic and dramatic than the original. While the original was a simple steady river, LLB 2 is a raging river which isn’t afraid to pull big waves of dramatic scenes. While the sequel loses the simple charm of the original, it creates a position of its own.
Jolly LLB 2 could be termed as a bad sequel, because it doesn’t adhere to the style which made the first movie so great; but never a bad movie. As a movie, it is terrific. Funnily enough though, even though LLB 2 doesn’t follow the spirit of the original movie, it does have all the twists and turns of the first. You could put the stories of the two movie side by side and see no difference. The only difference comes across in direction and conflict and its magnitude.
In our talks and hypes of Kaabil and Raees, we never gave Jolly LLB 2 all that much attention. Ironically, it is Jolly LLB 2 which is the best of the lot and more deserving of our attention.
LLB 2 is formulaic and clichéd, but it never seems so. It checks all the points: Good guy is a good guy, but circumstances force him to do something bad, that bad thing has repercussions, which force good guy to do good things which involve him making a lot of sacrifices, essentially cementing that he is good. Also, doing the good thing gets the good guy into life threatening situations, but he doesn’t ever give up. He goes through a lot of hardships, but he never gives up and eventually good prevails!!! WOOOHHOOOO!!!!
Know what the funny thing is? Till I sat down to write this review, I hadn’t notices much of these points as well. Till I didn’t give it enough thought and stripped the story down, I never caught onto the formula. That’s how well executed Jolly LLB 2 is.
Akshay Kumar won my heart with this rile. This is undeniably Akshay Kumar’s finest role in the past couple of years. He pulls it off to perfection with his role as Jagdishwar Mishra urf Jolly. Akshay Kumar is the embodiment of the common man we all can relate to.
Like all stories, this story requires a villain too. This time around, the villains are pretty terrible people. Much more so than the now looking like a nice person Boman Irani and his client. Annu Kappor plays Pramod Mathur, the bad judge defending his guilty client for so many things, you actually lose track. And his client, dirty, terrible, heinous cop Suryaveer Singh, played by Kumud Mishra.
There are plenty of cameos/short roles in LLB2. They have little parts all throughout the film; some at the beginning, some at the end, some intermittent throughout the film. Except for the characters I’ve mentioned and one more I’m about to; all the roles have little screen time and massive impact.
A lot of Jolly LLB’s heart was Saurabh Shukla, as Justice Sunderlal Tripathi. Just like the many plot points the sequel kept, it also kept this element from the original. I’m sure glad they did. As will everyone who enjoyed the first movie will. Saurabh Shukla is once again the buffoon but serious judge who has an intuition when things are going wrong and ominous He is the reason both the Jolly films were Jolly(Wink Wink. Yes, that’s a pun). His character is a moving force for the story as well as the unbiased opinion of a person who has no idea what is going on, looking at it from the outside and judging based solely on the facts.
Jolly LLB 2 strays from the original in the first half a lot. The first half is busy in building up Jolly’s character which is not a bad things. But it does have a lot of melodrama and stupid dance sequences. For those with Bollywood Masala-intolerance, the first half will feel like a drag.
The second half picks up pace; with the third act kicking it up several notches all at once. It becomes intense, fast and hitting; all the things you want in a film. It returns to the intense courtroom action of the original (though more intense), the verbal banter between the lawyers, their palpable animosity, desperation for comebacks, the quick comebacks and the lies.
Jolly LLB 2 is the first good Bollywood movie this year. It easily has a shot at Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Supporting Actors (Annu Kapoor and Saurabh Shukla), and Best Dialogue. Jolly LLB 2 is amazing and I recommend it to everyone.

Rating-3.5/4

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Movie to Watch-Looper

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In my opinion, Looper is one of the most forgotten and under-rated movies. Whenever we talk about the best modern sci-fi, we talk about Inception, Source Code, Ex Machina, The Matrix, Twelve Monkeys, but never Looper. Even when we talk about the best movies of its leads, Joseph Gordon Levitt, Bruce Willis and Emily Blunt, we talk about 500 Days of Summer or 50-50, The Die Hard Series and The Devil Wears Prada respectively. But Looper is almost always certainly overlooked and forgotten in such discussions.
It’s a shame really truly. Looper is a well-crafted, genius, inventive and bold and innovative movie that is refreshing and unflinchingly shows that a science fiction movie can have a story, a well-crafted and well-acted drama story with a ground work of science fiction. And that a science fiction movie doesn’t have too incorporate a science fiction plot or delve into the mechanics of the movie’s science(In this case, Time Travel) in order to be a good science fiction movie. Most people, after watching this movie, whine how the time travel mechanics are never cleared up or were too vague. Those people, I believe truly missed the essence of the movie. Because writer, director Rian Johnson himself has stated that Time Travel is only a part of the overall narrative and the movie is not a study of time travel. And all the characters in the movie, when faced with the question about time travel, very carefully deflect it, with the most memorable one being, “We would be sitting here all day making diagrams with straws.” But there are some details given, some background given as to how time travel functions a bit, leaving us with only an outline and allowing us to work on the nitty gritty details. And that’s just how it should be. It satisfies you, but leaves you curious as well.

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Josepg Gordonn Levitt or Young Bruce Willis (Time Travel Joke) XD

Looper has some of the best writing, acting and direction combination of any movie I’ve seen. One of the best, up there with The Empire Strikes Back, The Dark Knight, How to Train Your Dragon 2, Half Nelson, Sideways, Good Will Hunting and so many more. Its script is tight. It has no branching side plots or complicated characters. Looper is a mix of sci-fi, drama, neo-noir and thriller. It’s a fast movie, it has to be, but it gives time to its characters. Carefully showing their motivations, their lives, how they think, what they think and so on so forth. The characters feel natural and organic and sympathetic and the moments in the movie hit you hard. The script alone would be powerful enough to hit you, but the sheer class of writing and acting make it more impactful.
Rian Johnson is undoubtedly the star of the movie. He wrote and directed it. Which meant, he made up the world he has set Looper in, he made it come to life, he cooked up the story, he told the actors how to act out their characters, he told where to film the scenes. All in all, Rian Johnson is like a one man army. It gives me so much confidence that Johnson is helming Star Wars Episode 8. Disney might not be able to go much better than this guy. His scenes are beautiful. His words are engrossing. His characters are motivated. And most of all, there is boldness in his writing and direction, which shows in the choices his characters make.

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Bruce Willis, meet your younger self.

Looper is set in 2044, and instead of showing an advanced, almost cybernetic world, 2044 is more like an advanced slum. There is technology, no doubt, but Kansas is a dump. There are beggars, prostitutes, garbage, thievery you name it. It is this unconventional setting that pulls you in from the start. It intrigues you, coupled with Joseph Gordon Levitt’s narrative. What kind of a world is this? Is this really the future? Seems crappy. Let’s see more. The setting is so unconventional. I’m pretty sure half the production must have had a heart attack. But then again, Johnson makes bold choices.
Acting wise, this movie is top class. The actors have intensity, clear motivations, and don’t mince with their feelings. They cry, get mad, grow angry et cetera et cetera. Joseph Gordon Levitt once again proved with this movie that he deserves a better crop of films. His acting was so confident, so subtle and nothing too pretentious.
Bruce Willis’ acting in this movie really makes you wonder. Why the hell does this man still do crappy action movies that are critically reviled when he has amazing acting chops? Bruce Willis kept his own in the movie and showed why he was the senior most actor in the movie and deserved his role. Something similar goes for Emily Blunt. Given her skills, you look at her filmography list and wonder why she hasn’t done better roles.
But the real star of the movie is Pierce Gagnon as Cid, the son of Emily Bunt’s character, Sarah. He is the new Haley Joel Osment in AI. I have the deepest and most amazing respect for Pierce Gagnon. He was seven when he starred in Looper. And the kind of acting he pulls off shows just how much talent Pierce Gagnon has. He outshined the three major actors in his moments. He is the backbone on which Looper found wide success and a powerful third act. I act as well, in theatre. But the amount of skill Pierce Gagnon brought is unimaginable, for me.


The supporting cast as well, Paul Dano, Noah Segen, Paul Daniels are fantastic as well. The praises heaped for the leads apply to them as well. Even though they have small roles, they make you remember the acting as a cohesive whole rather than discrete parts.
In today’s time, Science Fiction is a genre plagued by its own legacy. Ever since we’ve known science fiction, we’ve associated it with big action sequences, massive production values and sets, philosophy and complicated science theories. So most science fiction movies of now a days falter under the weight of the genre’s legacy. We’ve seen so many movies failing for being too trite and repetitive. So may movies that have tried to be big and bold, in sets and have failed, like 2012, Independence Day: Resurgence, Battlefield Los Angeles, the Divergent and Hunger Games and Maze Runner series to name a few. The directors try to evoke the same sense of awe we have for the science fiction movies made years ago. Sadly, they fail, because they don’t understand their own sensibilities and abilities in making those movies.
Looper, Ex Machina, Inception, Primer have brought the science fiction genre back on track. I feel they’ve given the genre some much needed new direction, away from the massive production values and sets and scopes of the old movies, like Star Wars, 2001, Blade Runner, Dark City and so on. Of all the movies that have given the genre new direction, Looper stands as one of my favourite. I won’t shy away from saying this, but Looper is, for me a better movie than both, Primer and Inception.
Looper is the kind of movie that really makes you feel. It hits you right in the gut. It’s dark, it’s gritty, but it leaves an awkward smile on your face. Also, before I end this, Looper has quite possibly one of the most amazing, “OH MY GOD”, “THIS MOVIE IS THE BESTSSTSTSTSTSTST” ending ever. No really, I know friends who re-watched the last twenty minutes of this movie twice, because the ending is just that good. It’s a movie worth watching at least once. And then a couple hundred times more before you die!


Looper! Oh the memories attached with the first time I saw this film. Just came back home after my JEE-Advanced paper, my dad was packing to go abroad, I got home two Subs and had a kilo of pasta made(giving the JEE-Advanced was a big deal).  It was 2 June, 2013, that amazing day.
Looper had been on my list for a lot of time, i was just waiting to get JEE-Advanced over with to finally enjoy it. And on 3 June, 2013, it finally got off! Finally! And I marvelled at this film!
A beautiful and impactful film. I’ll be damned if there has ever been a more innovative or original sci-fi movie made in the past so many years. Like I said, this movie beats Primer and Inception, both for me. This movie is fantastic!

 

Just a bad day

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It was a long day for him. All he wanted to do was sit on his bed, throw himself back first on his bed, after having removed his sweaty clothes. But he couldn’t, not just yet. He was still metaphorically far away from his house. Even though he was right outside his house, he couldn’t seem to get in. He tried his keys again and again, but the lock wouldn’t click and open. He took it out, then put it back again, each time with increasing desolation, the one a traveller feels trying to find his way out of a desert.
He tried it a couple times more, and then sat down, next to the door, against the wall. He put his knees up to his chest and put his palms on his face. His key was still in the lock, slightly bent.
He mumbled a few words, cursing his situation. All he wanted to do was to get back home and lay down, and he can’t even do that. His face turned a mix of helpless and indifferent, not knowing what to do, and being too tired to care about it.
He couldn’t get a locksmith to repair the locks at this hour. And he couldn’t break his own lock. How would he be safe at night and how would he leave it when he had gone off to work? Nor could he go to his parent’s house this late. As it is, the house is too far. This is the perfect culmination of all the things which took place today. Everything going wrong with no ray of light at the end of the tunnel.
He had put his face back into his hands and nodded. It all started the previous night, when he got caught up reading an interesting book. He went way past his routine bedtime. He was acutely aware of what was going to happen he next morning, but he still couldn’t keep the book down. He eventually did, two hours later, after having read hundred extra pages and leaving the remaining eighty for the next metro next morning.
Consequentially, he woke up at the right time feeling tired. His eyes were paining, his head ached a bit and a sort of warmness, irritation spread through his body. He thought of calling an off, but he wanted to save his holidays. He got up, heavy with sleep, nowhere a man refreshed after sleep (like so many of us) and went through with his routine. He yawned and walked tiredly to the metro station, his thought of completing the book far beneath his brain’s constant buzz of tiredness. The metro, was uncharacteristically full. The crowd in the metro irritated him even further. Usually, he could take out his book to pass the time, but he couldn’t today. He was extra-ordinarily clumsy and uncoordinated as well, ever since his irritation spiked in the metro. He bumped into two people while getting off, tipped on the stairs out the metro station, bumped into his office’s glass door and put his bag down at his table so forcefully, it made a loud noise throughout the office, startling all those who were there.
Next thing he knew, the entire day had started to fly by because of the monotony and mundanity of office. He had to trudge through it all, bumping into people by accident, one of whom was his senior who gave him an earful, all the while trying to keep awake. Come lunch, he realised he had not brought his own. The next flashing thought was his table, where he left it packed as he walked out his house in a sleepy and tied haze. He went out for lunch at a nearby restaurant. It was a self-service restaurant. He ordered the food and eventually forgot to collect it, sitting at his table with his head in his right fist on his cheek. He had a miniscule falling sensation and fell awake. He realised he had to collect his food. For a fleeting moment, his fear of getting to office late galvanised his brain into action as he brought back his food to the table.
In the time he walked back, his brain again fell into sleep. He ate slowly, dropping some food on his shirt unknowingly. He completed lunch but left some of the food. In a feat of special extra-ordinary clumsiness and incoordination, he put his hand down on the tray rather than the table. All the remaining food splashed onto his shirt. He took a moment for it to register, then ran to the washroom, wetting the stain trying to clean it. At the end, the shirt was a multi coloured mess. He looked at his tie, still somehow left spotless. He came back out of the washroom and looked at his table. It was empty and clean. The tray of food had been taken away and the dropped food had been cleared. Startled, he ran towards the table. He checked the floor around the table but couldn’t see it. His company ID card had been taken away to.
He ran to the management for information, but they knew nothing about it. Tired and baffled by himself now he walked back to the office, well after lunch time. The guard made no fuss about his entry. Perks of working at the office for years, he thought. He sat back in his disk and tried to minimize his movements as much as he could. Everyone commented or quipped about his shirt. Usually, he would go along, but today it tired him further. He made it through the remaining day rather uneventfully, which he felt relived about.
Just when he was about to leave office, his senior told him to stay back for a discussion. He wanted to say no, but the discussion was important. So he thought better of it. The discussion went on for about an hour and fifteen minutes past his routine leaving time. He was uncharacteristically quiet the entire discussion, rather than giving his opinions like every other discussion. He couldn’t register a single point the entire discussion. His head was low, and he kept falling asleep, woken up only by the falling sensation.
The discussion too ended without much event. Luckily, since he didn’t talk much, not a lot of attention was paid to him. He packed his things and decided he would call a cab instead of the metro. He sat in it and set home. He wanted to just reach home and put his tired self on his bed. But not even half way through, the cab got stuck in traffic due to the construction of a bridge and a religious festival parade taking up a lot of the road and moving slowly. He was exasperated by all the things which happened and asked the cab driver of there was a better way. The cab driver said no.
His eyes were closing and he could only just keep himself awake all throughout the arduous journey. He eventually reached a very exasperated himself home, eager to get into bed. He tried his key and the lock wouldn’t click. He tried his key again and again, but the lock wouldn’t click and open. All his exasperation turned into desolation as he continued with the lock and nothing happened. He eventually sat down on the wall next to the door, his head on his hands.
He had started sweating now, helpless and tired at his door not opening, this late in the night. He tried to relax himself, but the hall had no fan and his sweat troubled him. Every time he tried to relax, a bead of sweat went over his eyes or nose and disturbed him. He looked at his palms, which were full of sweat. His legs felt uncomfortable in his wet pants now. Had it not been so hot, he wouldn’t have minded sleeping out here. His shirt had become even more of a mess, the shirt started sticking to his chest, adding to his discomfort. He put his head on the wall behind. He couldn’t think of what to do, and sat uncomfortably in his own sweat.
Some more time passed as he simply stared at the ceiling, acutely aware the tragedy the day had been and how much he would want to be comfortable. The salty sweat to stop, the shirt to stop sticking, and legs to not feel so wet. In the course of this, he beam ever thirsty. He opened his bad and saw his bottle completely empty. He had forgotten to refill it before leaving office. At rock bottom, he decided to get up and at least get some water.
He raised his hand and pulled the door handle for support to get himself up. His sweaty palm slipped from the door handle and hit the key. The key turned in the lock and the lock clicked open. His door nudged in a bit, opening. He stood up all of a sudden, marvelling at what just happened. All his thoughts of feeling helpless dispersed in a moment. He picked up his bag and ran inside the house, closing the door behind him.
He was ecstatic. Finally, something had gone right in the terrible day. He switched on the lights and kept his bag beside the door, which he proceeded to lock. He saw his tiffin box kept on a corner of the dining table. Encircling it, his company ID card. Looking at it, he felt foolish. But it didn’t matter to him. He went to the kitchen to get a drink of water and then he sprinted to his bed. He took off his tie, shirt, vest and pants and threw himself on the bed. Feeling the fluff of his mattress and the bedsheet on his skin, he felt happy. This is perfect, he thought as he made himself comfortable. This is all I wanted today. Without another care in the world, he drifted off to sleep happily.
All was perfect for him. After a terrible day, this was all he had wanted. Wanted so badly, that he jumped at it so eagerly, he forgot to pull his key out of the front door lock and it never ever once crossed his mind as he went to sleep.


I envisioned this as a short post, and it turned out to be 1700+ words! I guess you know something has changed in you when your short stories are this big, given they used to be 300 back in 2013! A lot has changed, and I guess it has been for the best.

Happy Reading!

The Fault in our Stars-The Best book I’ve ever read

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Ever since I’ve delved into stories, in the form of video games, movies, books and songs, I’ve had a great disposition towards stories which are real, deep and heartfelt. There is a lot of variation in the presentation of stories in all the mediums; but the emptions, or what the story makes you feel when presented to you remains constant. If a story is well executed, it will make you feel things. Make you cry, or cracking up with laughter, or put you in a deep state of thought. It could be a movie, a video game, a song or a book.
Like I said, I have a soft spot for stories which are real, deep and heartfelt. These are often stories which revolve around characters. Show them growing, having beautiful interactions. Movies about human will and love, and which tear you up or leave you with a single tear at its sheer beauty. I haven’t been able to put it exactly. But stories which leave a deep impact on you, especially emotionally.
The Last of Us in video gaming. That game is a masterpiece. I have played over 200 games by now, from 2005, on the Gameboy, Gamecube, PSP, PC and PS3. Never have I ever played a game remotely like The Last of Us. Its story, its direction, its execution. I remember applauding and having a single tear at the corner of my eye when I ended this game. Naughty Dog (the developers of The Last of Us) managed to make a game and redefine what a game could make you feel. Never before had a game left such a deep and lasting impact on me.
Movies like Good Will Hunting, Wall-E, Filmistaan, Bhaag Milkha Bhaag, Up in the Air, Dil Dhadakne Do, Piku, This is Where I Leave You have drawn and mesmerised me. They are beautiful films with stories about the human condition; with amazing character development and inspiring or amazingly emotional dimensions.
These movies are amazing. However my disposition for story has often lead me to alienate various other fantastic movies. Which may have amazing direction or cinematography but not so great in story, such as Gladiator, Zootopia to name a few.
In terms of books, there are only two. Two books, which have stories so powerful, so impacting, you felt for their characters and were as much a part of their problems as they were. I’ve mentioned this in a number of articles. One if A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. The second one is The Fault in Our Stars, by John Green.
I’ve mentioned in various articles before how much I love this book and the bar at which I keep it. It’s a beautiful book.
At its basest, The Fault in Our Stars is a tale about life, not cancer. It uses the background of people with cancer to shed light about life. It talks of such vivid and real concepts and describes them perfectly. “Funerals are for the living”, “Depression is not a side effect of dying. It’s a side effect of cancer”, “Pain demand to be felt”, “I’m on a rollercoaster that only goes UP”.
I cannot describe how much a lot of these quotes and concepts have impacted me. I remember, me reading to my friend (now my girlfriend) and she reading me back our favourite verses from The Fault in Our Stars. It was a beautiful talk.
Then there are the characters. The book has two types of characters: those with cancer and those without. Most of the characters without cancer are in some way related to the characters with cancer. The characters are real, their sufferings as real and painful and heartfelt as those with cancer. All the characters, with and without cancer are all reeling from the side effects of life. John Green beautifully explains that with every sentence.
Hazel’s mother was one of my favourite characters in the story. Her character was powerful. A parent whose child has cancer and she knows her child will most probably kick it from cancer. She embraces it and chooses one of the most beautiful, poignant way of reacting to it. Even though that particular dialogue is never given that much attention whenever we talk about this books greatest scenes, it is exceptionally moving and powerful.
The Fault in Our Stars also does something which happens rarely in the world. It talks about people with a disease like normal people. Not people who are less than anyone because of a disease or deserve our pity.
At the same time, it’s not a preach about cancer. It’s simply a story about people, with cancer.
The emotions of this book are very well written and powerful to say the least. It was a rollercoaster of emotions. I know a lot of friends who’ve cried at this book, who’ve sat thinking about their own feeling, while or after reading it.
I feel the same intensity of emotions on each of my five reads of this book.
While there are a lot of heavy memories for this book, there are also a lot of lighter ones associated with it. While also being one of the most emotionally intense stories, it is also one of the funniest and hilarious ever. A lot of the humor comes from Gus, with his combination of wit, spontaneity and word play. This doesn’t mean other characters don’t have their moments. They all get their moments to shine comically.
I laughed and I chuckled and I giggled a lot of the time reading The Fault in Our Stars. The Fault in Our Stars even doesn’t cheapen humor or depreciate it as a place holder or make it feel inappropriate or sheepish, which most modern stories tend towards. It has the best use of humor I have ever seen in a book. It made me laugh even at the most intense of moments without undermining the emotions or the laughter. The humor worked very organically.
With its combination of emotion, humor, reality, life and characters, The Fault in Our Stars stands as one of the most complete novels of this decade. It has a delicate sensitivity towards cancer; never mocking, caricaturing or exaggerating it.
It is a book everyone must read once in their life.
Now, most people will disagree with my next few words. Because we often reserve this word for movies, or games or novels or songs which are revolutionary, defining, usually epic in nature. Words we don’t often associate with Young Adult Fiction. We’ve used this word for The Godfather, The Empire Strikes Back, The Last of Us, Uncharted 2, and Half Life 2. The Fault in Our Stars is a masterpiece.

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I’ve had this post pent up in me since the day I revived this blog in 2016. This is the Book Recommendation I have wanted to write since the beginning, and I’ve finally found the impetus to do so after watching the terrible movie adaptation( Lol!).

But this book is amazing. Absolutely amazing. I hope all my feelings regarding this book have been properly conveyed to everyone reading this article. This one, and this book, are close to the heart.

Happy Reading!

Grown Up

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I woke up. I don’t know where, but it sure wasn’t my bed.
I woke up in this huge expanseness. It was a cream whiteness which spread infinitely all around me. The only limit to the infinity was the ground I was standing on. Up above, it was a multitude of textured of white, as though they mixed in that space. The plethora of textures could make it feel as though they were stars or clouds, but they weren’t.
All around me, the white and all of its textures were spread out. If I focused really hard, I could make out the silhouette of trees in the distance.
With all the whiteness around me, I couldn’t make out if it was night or day. I don’t know why it mattered, but it seemed like something imperative to think about. But on second thought, I don’t think it mattered, and I started walking.
I moved towards the tress, because it was different from the emptiness of the remaining three sides. It felt like the place for me to go. So I went.
The trees then began to fade into the whiteness. Their contours became more and more obtuse, going away into the nothingness. It didn’t matter they were going away. But soon I saw smoke going up into the space above. The greyness of the smoke wasn’t transient like everything else. It was thick and tangible. It broke the white’s supreme. It wasn’t going to go away like the trees.
I walked towards it, hoping to find a reddish orange fire fluttering fire somewhere. Hopefully as permanent as the smoke it produced.
In the distance, close to where the smoke was rising up from was a figure. Sharp, it cut through the whiteness with its physique. The figure sat hunched on a brown log, right in front of the fire, I think, because the smoke was coming right from in front of the figure.
The figure was slender, and sleek. It had a pony tail at the back of the head and was wearing a brown suede jacket.
It seemed familiar. I couldn’t however remember where it was from. Only if it stood up, I would’ve been able to guess where I knew it from. It seemed so familiar.
I must have started squinting my eyes hard and walking loudly. Because when the figure became big to my eyes, it suddenly straightened its back in attention. Then, it started to get up.
I stood there frozen. Frozen in curiosity. Every inch the figure rose, it became more and more familiar. It finally stood upright and I knew.
The figure turned around and even though I promised not to react, be completely non-reactive, a smile betrayed me.
The figure’s eyes went wide and it went into a state of surprise. In one fluid motion, the figure ran towards me and hugged me.
“Sonnnnnnn! It’s been so long.,” the figure said. The figure hadn’t lost her raspy, sweet voice. It hadn’t withered down one bit. The figure hugged me tightly. By my calculations, I should have been taller than the figure by about three inches. But I wasn’t. When the figure was hugging me, I realised I reached only to where I did ten years ago, the last time I hugged the figure. The embrace was warm. No matter how much I resisted, I was a small boy again. It made me hug her. It was involuntary. I felt safe and warm. I felt comfortable. I felt I had gained what was missing from my life since I was twelve.
The figure, is my mother.
She ended the embrace. She hadn’t aged a day since she had left. She looked exactly how I remembered her. As sleek and thin and pretty as she had always been.
I was too mesmerised by the moment I didn’t see her hand coming towards her cheek. She touched my cheek and wiped off the tears I didn’t know had come out. I let out a couple more tears. I closed my eyes to let them come out. I opened my eyes. Instead of having to raise my head a lot to look at her face, I only needed to raise it a little. Surprised, I looked at myself and saw the ground a bit farther away, little of its white showing colour. I looked around in wonder and saw some colour coming back. It was slight, but the line between the sky and the space had started to come back to life.
Then my eyes fell on my mother. She was still unchanged. The same smile, the same glow. Just like I remember it.
“Come on, let’s sit. There is so much we haven’t talked about.” The excitement in her voice was apparent. He was never the one to mince her words or emotions.
I was hesitant. I, I didn’t know if I wanted to. The resistance in me was slightly less, having flown out with my tears, but there was so much more that wouldn’t flow out with a few tears. There were some answers which I needed, some acquisitions yet to be placed on her.
She had turned around and taken a step but quickly realised I hadn’t taken budged. In one swift motion, she turned around and looked at me. I shook my head. My eyes were solemn and I wasn’t the ever smiling, always agreeing with her boy anymore. She can’t expect me to listen to her after how she went away; without so much as a word or warning.
She walked towards me. I was still tiny when compared to her. She had a knowing smile. It wasn’t the first time I was like this. I had thrown tantrums and said a lot of no’s a number of times and whined more than an infant, but she would always get me back.
She bent down on her knees and flicked my hair to one side, like she always did. Her smile said what she always said after. “My handsome young boy.” I would always squirm a little, but I never let it down easy.
But I shook my head. I told her nor this time. Not again. She motioned with her hand. “What happened?” She motioned in her usual way, with her smile and body language sweet enough to melt you down.
I resisted, looked away. I knew I couldn’t hold on any longer. I saw into the infinite with misty eyes. I felt the warm tears rolling down my cheeks. Then her hand wiping it away. Then she held my head between her hands and turned me towards her face. She shook her head no and wiped away all the tears.
She would do it, telling me it’s okay. Okay to cry. Whatever bad happened will be okay in some time. And before long, it wouldn’t even matter.
She did it. She did it again. Then she continued making these funny faces. Whenever I would get upset or angry or unresponsive, she would make these funny faces. She would blow up her cheeks and then pop them. Then she should fill them up again. At times she would take my tiny little hands and hit her cheeks lightly with it. She would then slowly release the air one by one.
That would always cheer me up. It did again. I started laughing through my misty eyes. I could hear my own laughter filling the infinite with colour. Through the misty eyes, I saw some colour seeping into the whiteness. The trees which were fading away into the nothingness started to come back. I could see tiny hints of brown springing to life in the trees. The ground was mostly white, with some patches of green coming to life. The sky was assuming a faint vivid blue, as though the sun was about to set in some time.
I looked down at my mother, she was farther down an inch or two since before. I looked beyond her at the fire. What had formerly been just a sire and four brown logs in a square floating somewhere on a white landscape, seemed to have found ground.
She knew I had started laughing and she had pulled me out of my tantrum. Again, she got up and went. I followed. She sat on the wooden log she originally sat on. I sat hunched on the one next to her.
She pulled out two sticks from the ground. They both had white as the expanse marshmallows at their ends. She handed one to me and we both went forward to heat them over the fire.
There was a time when I was young when we us to camp a lot. All of us. Me, my mother, my father and my sister. But I would huddle with my mother and my sister with my father. We would warm marshmallows, bring out our packaged food, looking at the star filled sky where the smoke dispersed into. We wouldn’t ever bring clocks. That way, we never knew what time it was or how long it had been, into the dark sky started becoming blue.
“It’s been long since we did this.” I said with a smile.
She looked over at me and spoke with a smile. “This is the first time you’ve spoken since you’ve come here.”
Her words hit me. And I realised she was right. These were the first words I had spoken since I’d woken up. First words I’d spoken to my mother in over ten years. And they were perfect.
“Yeah,” I said. My smile grew even larger. I heard my voice and it was like when i as smaller. A little boy. A little boy who was growing up. A lot of the bitterness and ager in m had faded. I saw the colours in the expanse getting stronger, more vivid. The tree trunk brown had become more permanent. The grass around us started to dance in the wind. It was no longer transient. It was closer to opaque now. The smoke now flew into a better defined sky. A faint dark blue, which would soon become black. There started to be little lights here and there, slightly illuminating with their blurry, transient lights. They seemed to lie somewhere above, a place unfathomable beyond the infinite sky, which was still merged with outer space.
I came closer to the fire by about two inches. I realised this was the longest I was going to be. My hands and feet were as big as I remembered them. My chest was as large as when I fell asleep. It was my face that would change anymore now.
I rose my back about two inches, to compensate for my increase in size.
I looked at my mother. She was still looking at me, smiling.
“You’ve grown into a fine young man.”
“Yeah.” My voice had grown deeper. We sat there, looking at each other, smiling. As though we were both at ease with each other, nothing much more to say to each other. Our silence was interspersed by the crackling sounds of the marshmallow being cooked.
Then it gnawed on me. Even though I was happy, ecstatic at seeing her again, there was still so much I needed to know.
“Where did you go?” I asked her. I was still smiling, but there was sadness underneath. At being left alone without as much as a warning. Or a clue as to where she went and how to find her.
Her smile turned frown and she tilted her head to one side. She looked at me, at the sadness forming on my face. On the edge of my lips, my cheeks, my eyes. She saw it and thought of a second. Then she smiled again, and I knew she was going to speak.
That was her classic. Whenever faced with a situation, she would tilt her head to one side and think. She would do that because she said it would help her get a different perspective on things. Look at the things she missed. I never tried it after she went away. I stayed away from everything which reminded me of her.
“I came here,” she said with her usual smile.
I couldn’t fathom why she would come here. To this barren textured whiteness. To this desolate place where there was nothing.
“Why, why did you come here?” It’s barren. It’s empty. It’s fully white with fading colours. Why would anyone come here?”
She let out a laugh. She always did when I got confused and asked her questions in my fast, scared voice.
“Who said this place is empty or barren?” She spoke through laughter. “It’s such a beautiful place. It’s so lush and green all around. Look, over there,” she pointed with her finger. “Look at that beautifully raging forest of tress. Look at all those green leaves and sparse flowers. Look there,” she pointed to another place. “That beautiful blue stream flowing. The banks with that green. I strained my eyes hard, but I couldn’t see what she was talking about. “And then, there are the birds, flying high into the sky, their shadows cast on the ground. And at times, when it’s really auspicious, the fireflies come alive and brighten everything up. This place is only as full as you.”
I still couldn’t understand what she was talking about. I thought she was lying. I tilted my head to one side and saw her eyes and her smile.
Her smile was full. Even from a different angle, it was just as real. And her eyes. There was a particular gleam in her eyes. I hadn’t caught it when I looked straight at her. My mouth opened when I remembered. She had that glint in her eyes when she cradles me in her arms as an infant. When I would lie down on her knees. That gleam had always been there, just now when you looked straight at her.
I smiled, a crooked tilted smile. Her smile grew even wider, if such a thing was possible. I looked on at her smile, mesmerized by it and by how long ago it was when I last saw it. A sound then emerged in the middle of my reverie.
It was the sound of a gushing stream. The sounds of water falling from one place to another, overflowing the banks, cutting through the rocks embedded in its way. I closed my eyes and let the fusion of sounds in. That smile and the flowing water. Slowly, I could imagine what my mother was talking about.
Above the water, birds started chirping, though they were transient, like the trees in the beginning.
The fresh cool air rose from the steam. I could feel it. It hit my arms, my legs, which were barely covered by the pants which had become too small for me now, my chest, and my nose. The coolness entered my body and settled in, expunging out the heat of sadness from my body.
I felt a way I hadn’t in a long time. I opened my eyes. The colours had grown fuller, more vivid. The tree trunks had become an opaque brown. I could see the leaves fluttering with their contours. The green grass felt softer and more cutting. The fire had finally reached onto solid ground. The stars shone their brightness down on us, but the sky was still incomplete. I could see now why she chose this place to wait.
“I can see now.” I told her
“See what?” She was a bit confused. This was a first. Usually it was me on the confused end.
“Whatever you described about this place. Why you came here to wait.”
Both of us turned to look at the fire, sitting in comfortable silence.
But I still felt unease in the moments in between. Whenever I caught up a look at the newly coloured expanse, the gnawing feeling came back. As though something was amiss. Whenever I looked up at my mother, all things which seemed amiss went away. Her smile, her face made it all go away.
This is the first time I’m looking at her, and the thing amiss have stayed. For the first time, I’m looking up at her and feeling there is something amiss with her as well. In the moments she thought I wasn’t looking, I felt it in her.
My smile faded every few seconds as the thoughts came. But as soon as I realised, I rapidly shook my head and brought the smile back. I didn’t want her to catch me without a smile. I wanted her to see me happy. That nothing was amiss.
“I’m sorry I hurt you son,” she said all of a sudden. I was caught off guard as I heard her say those words.
I jolted upright and looked at her face. She still had her ever present smile, but mixed with pensiveness and regret. I couldn’t remember anytime when she had anything other than a smile on her face.
I was too caught up in my thoughts to respond to her.
“I didn’t meant to. I never did. It just happened. And I never got a chance to tell you I’ll be coming here, or that I’ll be waiting for you. Or meet you one last time. I’ve hurt you so much.”
I was shocked. I’d have never thought I would see my mother like this. “No, no. It, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do it on purpose. If you had any other way, you would’ve taken it. I know.”
I could see her smile shining through her pensiveness and regret. And I realised my voice had no heaviness, or hate or pain. It was my voice, like it used to be. The thing which was amiss seemed to dissolve away by her words.
She got up and sat next to me. She placed a hand on my cheek. I felt her touch. It had been so long. I was transported back to when I was twelve, the last time I felt such a way. The warm, homely touch. I smiled as I let the feel of it travel through my body. I smiled. Seeing me smile, she got back hers, just like it always has been. I tilted my head towards her hand to get the maximum area of her warmth. At that angle, the smile was even more different; enough to light up even the darkest of places in your heart.
“You’ve grown up so much son,” she said. Her voice was a whole gram sweeter.
“I finally did.” I smiled like the twelve year old me would have. Like an idiot, a smile covering my entire face. Happiness covering my remaining body.
She hugged me sideways and I hugged her back. I knew this could quite possible be my last hug with her. So I closed my eyes and I cherished it.
It was a long, hard, warm hug. We left our embrace and looked at each other, both smiling. My eyes went to the fire after, which had started to burn out.
She took in a deep breath. “I think our time here is about to end,” she signalled to the fire.
“I guess so,” I said heavily at the prospect.
She got up from the log and followed suit. She moved to her previous log and picked up the stick with the marshmallow. She took out the marshmallow. I did so too. We looked at each other. Like before, we smiled and ate them whole, in one big gulp.
The fire was starting to become a tiny ember now, barely able to keep alive. The sky had almost taken over. Except it was not entirely black now. Dawn had started to break. Time to finish our camp and get some sleep. The sky didn’t feel incomplete now. I looked at her and we both nodded our heads. It was time to leave. She started towards the infinite on the side from where I came. Little by little, as she kept on going farther, the entire expanseness lit up.
I looked around in surprise. Tens of millions of fireflies, came to life just as the last ember went to wait in another expanse for somebody else. The fireflies were everywhere. In between the tress, above the grass, over the water, in the infinite space everywhere. They were dancing in groups, shining amongst the stars.
I saw everything else in the expanse. The little patches of brown in between the grasses of green. The cuts in the tree trunks. The branches bereft of trees. The stream which occasionally overflowed the banks. The mud which was made around it. And then I saw my mother, lit up in the golden and white light, the way she has been throughout my life, and will always be.


It’s the New Year!!!!! And for the New Year, I had reserved probably my best post!
This is the most deep, metaphorical and emotional I’ve gotten in any writing, prose, poem or novel in the past year. The fun I had while writing this, and the satisfaction after typing it and pasting it here is indescribable. Never before have I ever tried to use so many story elements all at once. But looking at this finished piece now, it’s paid off big time.

Hope everybody loves it!
Happy Reading!

Movie Review- La La Land

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La La Land. Possibly the most anticipated movie of 2016. Written and directed by Damien Chazelle. Honestly, to say La La Land is a magical movie film is an understatement. If Whiplash is Damien Chazelle’s love letter to jazz music, La La Land is Damien Chazelle is his love letter to Jazz Music and acting.
La La Land is the tale of every artist to have existed on the planet. It shows all the various phases artists go through. Having an audition disturbed. Putting years of your life into your passion and leaving the rest of your life behind. Getting ripped off. Finding nobody who understands your love for your art. Fluctuating self-respect, ranging from downright low and giving up to being self-obsessed. Setting for something less than your passion for stability. Losing heart after what you thought would be your lucky break doesn’t turn out to be. And eventually the good times as well. Getting motivated by the people around you. Working hard again after you get that break once after years.
La La Land centers around two people, but it tells us the story of each and every artist, be it a singer, writer, dancer, actor.
La La Land revolves around two people struggling in LA. Mia Dolan (Emma Stone), a struggling actor who works part time as a barista in between auditions. She loves singing and dancing and finds good music worthy of appreciation and mesmerising.
The other person we have is Sebastian Wilder, a jazz music aficionado who too has a plan, which I Won’t be revealing. It’s very different from the archetypes we have had in the past and his story is unique. It’s the sort of twist we all had in Whiplash.
Emma Stone, Emma Stone! She is absolutely lovely as Mia. She is the perfect Oscar contender for Best Actress. She gets every emotion right, every note right, every dance move right. She is flawless in her portrayal of Mia and there is no second in the movie where you can fault her. She is, amazing.
Ryan Gosling. It’s been a damn long time since I’ve seen him do a good lead role. The last one was Half Nelson, in 2006, where he received an Oscar nomination. Gosling was amazing as well, though there were a few missed steps. In the dance sequences, between the big steps, Gosling fell a bit silent and seemed to be lost. This was the only hitch in an otherwise perfect performance. Plus, I’m absolutely positive Gosling learned how to play the piano for this role. Wow!
Both of these actors were marvellous and amazing.
The choreography of this film is W-O-W. The dance steps used and the way they were executed as well. Spectacular. There is a huge large scale dance that takes place on a bridge. It isn’t easy co-ordinating that, nor choreographing. But it was done, flawlessly, without a single error.
Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling! They were so amazing with their dance! They were perfect!
The movie could not have been as amazing without the right camera angles. No movie can be. And La La Land has the finest cinematography in a long time. The scenes were perfect. Shots of LA all lit up in Stars; Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone in a building to the left and the world on the right. No movie can ask for better cinematography than this.
Before I move on with more praises about La La Land, there are two problems I found in it. First off, I felt a lack of intensity in the scenes at times in La La Land. I cannot be absolutely certain. The people in the theatre were constantly talking and texting and I was getting distracted a lot. Second, at the beginning, the chemistry between Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling felt forced. It smoothed itself out eventually, but it still pinches me.
Now, let’s get to the most essential and tiresome job which makes La La Land possible. The director. This year, there is no better directed movie this year in Hollywood, possibly even world cinema. To get the magic out from the script and the director’s mind and put it on display on the big screen is always a tough task. To make people fall in love with your movie and it’s world.
La La Land has the grandest, most magnificent and elaborate dance sequences. Then one of the most visually aesthetic and beautiful pieces. And then a beautiful and moving climatic piece, reminiscent of Miles Teller’s drumming at the climax of Whiplash.
Plus the effects Damien Chazelle uses. Then extracting such intense and intricate work from Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling. Merging all the aspects, acting, choreography, cinematography, dialogues all into one cohesive whole. Then keeping the audience in awe of it and its magic.
Take a bow Damien Chazelle, Take a bow sir. You have directed one of the best Hollywood movies of maybe the past five years (Maybe even better than Inception) and the most magical movie easily. You’re a magician, as I’ve said all along, this movie is your magic. Directing it, your greatest trick. Don’t tell the trick to anyone, then we lose respect (Movie reference. Wink Wink).
La La Land is the perfect send-off to 2016, which has had some of the most amazing movies released in a single year. Udta Punjab, Pink, Finding Dory, Deadpool, Neerja, Civil War, Arrival, Nit Battey Sanata, Doctor Strange, Manchester By The Sea( Yet to watch this, but it has gotten amazing reviews) and Kapoor and Sons.
There is no better send off to all the movie awesomeness we’ve had this year.
La La Land is original, unique and serious. Directors don’t make movies like these anymore. If they do, they’re rarely musicals or imbued with so much magic. I loved this movie a lot. I don’t know how else best to put it.
Magic. Love. Music. Acting. Dance. La La Land.

Rating – 3.5/4


And ending the Three Days, Three Posts frenzy, one of the finest, magical and amazing movies made in this year as well as in a long time. This movie is beautiful, completely original and unique. No one else has made a movie like La La Land, and scavenge all Hollywood movies, you won’t find anything like it. All those who are yet to watch it, or are planing not to or in two minds, watch it. Do yourself a favor and watch it. Close this window, throw this review away and run to the nearest cinema hall and watch this movie.
The perfect movie to end my Three Days, Three Posts. It was something entirely new I did out of a sheer creative impulse to write more. It helped me not only write these three amazing reviews, but also two more short stories and some parts of my novel.

Also, I reached 1000 blog views in a single year as well in these three days as well. Thank you everybody who has supported my blog by coming here and reading what i write and for all the love showered on the blog. Thank you. Here’s to keeping the blog in tip top shape till I write.
Happy Reading!

Chats-The one at the Party

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The sea of singularity and collective-ism

It was another usual grand outdoor party. It was just the right combination of warm and cold. Nobody was sweating, and everyone was wearing only one layer. At least the weather was pleasant.
Floating all around the party was the usual air of fake sophistication of people who’d want nothing more than to go crazy and di stupid stuff. But they didn’t. Because it wasn’t expected of them and also because it was unseemly. So naturally, whenever they saw an unrestrained soul. They were usually taken aback in equal parts shock, horror, discomfort and longing.
They couldn’t believe their eyes or ears and tried to disprove their heart when they saw somebody smiling heartedly, or having a hearty laugh, simply enjoying themselves with no pretence.
At this party, there was this huge magnificent beast of a man, whom you’d see from afar and prejudge him to be one of the most solemn, grim men to pace the Earth. A bulking 6’2, beat hair and beard. You’d expect him to shoot you a look if you so much as made a joke around him. A proper grown up, in terms of the air of false sophistication possible for a person. Somehow, we just couldn’t be more wrong.
There he was, talking like it was the single foremost and greatest pleasures in life. He had a glass of coke in his hand, which spent more time in the company of other people, because that man was too busy jumping around and waving his hands in the air and making everybody laugh. He said the craziest and most random of things. There was one man, trying to make banal small talk and try to show how popular and well connected he was, went up to this structure of incredible energy and said, “I think I’ve seen you somewhere. Now where was it?” He tried to act important and that structure responded, “I think I know where. I do a lot of hard-core gay porn movies.” The man was taken aback. “Always a pleasure to meet a fan. Can I interest you in an autograph?”
I was standing a couple of feet away from where this happened. Everybody there downright lost it, and started curling their mouths inwards to stop their imminent bursts of laughter. The more shameless like me walked away and let out our bursts.
Mind you, this is a party where people thought laughing except a fake and low one meant you were uncivilised. So, this is how people lost it.
I was standing next to the man again after some time. He was speaking about this book, “The Fault in Our Stars”, a novel by John Greene. The way he spoke about it, with so much passion and love. I couldn’t remember the last time I talked about anything like this. I simply remembered talking as a means to an end. A forced activity to pass the day till I could enjoy some silence and quiet. Had I, and most of us here, forgotten what the art of talking?
What struck me most about this man was his almost infinite quota of energy. He just wouldn’t settle down. It should be illegal for anybody to possess so much energy. Then again, I think all his energy came from the simple fact that maybe he didn’t need to expend any energy in trying to be sophisticated.
I actually want to go up to this man, and talk to him. But a certain fear has gripped me. I don’t know what it is, but it is pretty strong. I’m obsessing about whether I should go or not. Or you know what, maybe he’ll come here for a drink and then I can casually start a conversation like, “Hey! What’s up?” That should work right?
Great. Now I’m obsessing how to talk to a guy who literally talks all the time. I’m like, that awkward little boy again who never spoke to his crush in high school because she was the popular one and he was always intimidated.
Okay. This is getting way out of hand now, this guy is awesome and everything, but it’s not worth fretting my sexuality over. I’ll just take my drink and sit down on this lonesome looking chair. The next few minutes I thought of myself and forgot all about that man.
It’s so weird, to see something like him. Like this weird prank he did. He fake yawned and on purpose, hit the guy next to him with his elbow when going to cover his mouth, then, he acted like it was a mistake. He made it obvious it was a joke and didn’t even mask the humor. Then, he hit another person while he said the sorry when he took his other elbow backwards. Within a minute, everyone had lightened up and was laughing, or simply smiling heartedly.
This man had this mystical ability to make anything comic. Eve between his passionate tirades, he let in a quip to make you smile. He wasn’t a comedian, but he had the heart of one.
I came out laughing when I thought about it and then saw him. The man, flesh and bones sitting diagonally in front of me. I was like, Wow! This was my shot. SO I mustered up all my courage, pushed down any feelings of latent homosexuality I may have had, and just said, “Dude! You are crazy awesome!” Crazy Awesome. A phrase I never thought I would ever use in my life.
He turned around, all stiff and solemn, his coke in his hand. He looks me in the eye and says, “You talkin to me?” In a crazy western accent. I was a bit taken aback. All I did was let out a little uhhhh and then he said it again. “You talkin to me?” A completely different, heavier tone this time. I gulped.
“Yeah,” I said meekly and awkwardly.
In a heartbeat, all of a sudden, he dropped the whole act, turned sideways to face me better and said, “Cool man. What’s up? “I let out an incredulous laugh at his charade. He had a knowing smile. Just like that, I realised he had lightened me up.
“Seriously man, you’re insane,” I said while laughing. He let out a laugh himself. “Thanks,” he said.
“No really. I mean, you’re a breath of fresh air,” I said with so much excitement at seeing such a person.
He laughed. “Thank you again.” He was almost shy when he said it. Humble like almost.
I didn’t get it. Here he was, somebody who did what he loved, who obviously didn’t care how he was perceived. Here he was, being somebody everybody in parts wanted to be like, and he had no streak of arrogance at all.
“How often is it, you come to a party and see somebody jumping around like crazy? Answer that question and you just might feel how I feel,” I continued then paused for his answer.
“Well, everyone I’ve been to,” he said with his coke glass raised and a smile.
It was a second before I got the joke. He smiled and waited for me to get it and then we both laughed.
“Why does the fact that there aren’t people jumping around at parties tick you off?” He asked me with concern. Like he genuinely cared about it.
“Well, because, you know. Ever since birth, you’ve always been told not to do certain things. At parties, at other people’s house. No matter how much you wanted. And if you did it by mistake, you would be reprimanded whenever your parents caught you alone. I mean, so many people here want to laugh and tell jokes and not fake laugh. But can’t do it, because it’s not the proper thing to do.”
“What is the proper thing to do?” He swiftly cut me in between. There was a pause in which I looked up at him. “The only proper thing to do is what you feel you want to do. Anything else is the improper thing to do.”
It made sense.
“You’ll realise that when you do the proper thing, the right thing as I call it, you’ll do it for much longer, with more energy and more zeal. Simply because, it comes from right here and you feel like doing it.” He pointed to his heat as he said that. I could feel his talking coming from the heart, otherwise he wouldn’t be talking like this. “And it’s not only about doing what you love. It’s also learning what to do it while still being kind and respectful to other people.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “That’s why nobody loves parties like these, except little kids. Because we are conscious and act so much energy trying to act a certain way’ kids never have to, because they’re excused because they’re kids. We get bored. Because we aren’t doing it from the heart. We realise we could be at home doing something we actually love. That comes from right here,” I pointed to my heart.
“Precisely. All this conditioning. To act, speak, walk a certain way. To be a certain way. To live life a certain way. It all comes from right here,” he pointed to his head. “But we can’t fault our parents or anybody else for that either,”
There was no hate or indignation in his voice. Instead, I found a slight hint of understanding there. A keen understanding and acceptance for why we were conditioned. “It’s because we aim to be better. But without ever knowing it, it’s ingrained in us to be better because of the fear that if we aren’t good, we’ll be left behind.”
He has me hooked. Something in there made sense. Something felt similar, like my mom who always told me to study more otherwise I would be a stupid and not smart.
“We’re told to study more, get better marks. Because if we don’t, we’re termed as failures. So we study not because we love it and want to be better. We do it because we’re afraid of being left behind. Just like this party. We’re all acting a certain way, afraid to go crazy or act out of it in fear of how we might seem to a colleague or a superior. If we act out of the streamlined way, we might not get the next big raise or the net big promotion. So, we act like this out of fear.” His voice changed, becoming more emphatic, as though he was about to make appoint. :We all become so accustomed to always not failing, we see ourselves as people trying to defeat failure, rather than as people wanting to get better.”
“Yeah,” I said as I had a moment of enlightenment. “Everyone wants to do better because they don’t want to fail.”
He shook his head with a smile and approval.
“But I still don’t get one thing,” I asked him.
“Hmmmm,” he responded, indicating me to ask the question.
“But how does it all add up? I mean, people being afraid of failure, and the ability to have fun at parties and what we do from the heart? And how do our parents come into this?”
He gave a knowing smile, as though he had been a recipient of such questions. “Because you see, when we’re not afraid of not failing all the time, we tend to not end up thinking about it. So you don’t expend any energy thinking about what how you might fail. So, you’re free to do anything with that energy you have. I want to joke around and have fun. While somebody else might just want to sit and have a great chat. Whereas somebody else may want to sit in a corner and observe the party. And someone else may want to leave the party and sit at home and read. But at the same time, while doing what you love, you must never shy away from doing new things. Who knows, that new thing could be another thing you end up loving! But you can do this only if you’re unconcerned with how you might seem or what people think about you.”
“And our parents were conditioned with a similar thinking, all of which they couldn’t shake off. So, some things they shook off. The ones they couldn’t, they passed down to us.” I don’t know how I reached that conclusion as I cut him in between. ”They believed telling us to behave a certain way, to get better marks were the right things to do,” he responded.
“Cant’ blame that,” Isa di as I raised my glass. “To parents. Who always try their best!”
“Here here!” He responded, raising his glass of coke. Diet, on closer inspection. “And to trying to do the right thing. What our heart tells us to do, without fear or restraint.”
He said that one with an entirely new accent.
“Aye,” I responded.
He gave an accepting smile, making a pug like face, pushing his face downwards and lips upwards and nodding his head. “I approve. Cheers!” And then we drank from our glasses.


My exams are finally over, and for one month, I can write like there is no tomorrow, and also blog like that as well!
To all people who love reading “Chats” stories, this is the latest collection to it; why I believe we all hate parties and why we avoid them as much as possible; mostly.
Do sound of in the comments below whether my theory is correct or wayyy of the mark!
Happy Reading!