Phantom of the Opera

Sunday 6th De 2009

I saw the "Phantom of the Opera" lying on a cot with fever and a running nose. And by Rairakhol standards quite late in the night. I had not seen a Hollywood musical before, at least not completely, though Chicago, Moulin Rouge and Phantom of the Opera were on my wishlist for quite a long time. I hardly had been interested in musicals. Anybody who happens to view any number of Bollywood movies surely can skip these musicals. It doesn't get better than here in India "Hum Apke Hain Kaun" Who can forget it for both good and bad reasons. As for me I slept through the whole ordeal. :)

but what really caught my imagination in the Phantom of the Opera was

1) Gerard Butler.

King Leonidas, whose thundering voice commanded an army of Spartans to fight the most fearsome battle according to Hollywood standards is a legendary tale of courage, now singing in an opera was way too much to digest. What was he doing there and if he was there how the hell did he manage to sing.

I guess he did manage to get a team of Fat opera lady singers along with his Spartan army to dine with him in Hell!

2) the Promo of the movie... Featuring a bone chilling masterpiece by Andrew Lloyd Webber which hardly seemed to be the music of opera. It sounded more like a rock anthem. whatever it was, I was really done in by the trailer.

3) A.R.Rehman:I mean I had read somewhere that he had played for Andrew Webber. But i was really not sure whether this was the one. As it turned out this was not it.

The Opening of the film with the celestial music sweeping away the remains of the Opera from the B&W background to the past filled with Light and colour had a great first impression and that was where I decided to watch it completely irrespective of my aching head.

and What a Film!

Gerard Butler and Emmy Rosseum were rightly cast in the Film and Gerard really did justice to the Character of the Phantom.

The music is top notch and the songs portray the real theme of the story.

The title song composed by Andrew Lloyd Webber is remarkable...

There are some really remarkable moments in the film, one of my favourite is the ending, the phantom leaving its mark on the grave of the one he loved. The Ring and the Rose, lying beside his beloved...

well you can watch it if you want to...

PREMONITIONS

Thomas Martyn Jr wasn't happy with his work as a photographer. After more than eight years as a free lance he had yet to come up with his story. The story that he believed could change his professional life and jettison his mundane existence. He was always on his heels, he travelled through the dark lonely roads spending the night in remote motels near to the highway. He had no family, no responsibilities and most importantly no story.

22nd November 1994 was a different day.

The thirty five year old photographer had finally found what he was looking for and may be more. He managed to write his story. But the story was not any that he had written before. It was real life incident that happened and was still happening somewhere in the thousand of acres of land surrounding the Corbett national park. But there was a missing piece that needed to be captured before he could turn back to the confines of his desk and the writing pad. It had to be unearthed. And there was only way to do that; return to the park.

This proved to be his nemesis.

He walked alone. And as he walked he would stand still at times on the open road keep staring over his shoulder, never turning back to look in to the void behind him.

Fear was writ large on his face. His breath was heavy and even the darkness ahead of him was a relief compared to what he had left behind. He walked further down the road, breathed heavier and stood still at times to stare back at the sight and the events of that unfortunate night which seemed to follow him all along. He could see it happen right behind his back and he would gasp for air. He wished he could run as fast as possible but deep down he could feel the ice beneath the ankles. He was paralysed with fear at times. Fear he had not known since the day he was born.

He felt lost and but never tired, because he knew they were coming and they were very close to him. very close to feel his breath, to sense his plight, to see the droplets appear on his forehead, his watery eyes and the raised hairs under many thick layers of garment.

"They are coming!" that's all his mind could conjure. His lips was parched. The adrenaline pumped up and his breathing hard. He tried to walk as fast as he could summon his limbs. He remembered something and he let a gush of air vent through his nostrils. He had a gun, but there was only one bullet now or may be none. Had he fired all or one remained. He thought he prayed that god would listen to him just once more. They can't be killed with one but The one could relieve him of his misery. Yes! that's it.

He put his hand inside his trouser pockets, pulled out the gun, Cocked the gun, smiled at his fortune, and fired.

The Bullet did its job, and did it well. There remained no signs of his brains inside his head. It lay splattered all around as his body came tumbling down and finally rested on the side walk.

"Thanks" was the last word that his mind could sum up before the exodus...

To be continued....

The Awakening

"You better spit that philosophy out of your mouth because it really stinks!"

The above is the single line summary of what happens when you try to explain the sadness and misery that arises from an over reactive imagination that cannot be resolved by material means.

We the people of this free world are running towards our death at a much faster rate then ever before. However all the time we just ignore the truth and keep on living a mirage-Death will never pay a visit to us. We wish to be fair, young, dynamic people and the adage continues all through our life. We don't want to accept death. Why?

Time doesn't know a period. It is flowing continuously. What we see today will not be forever. Nature is all about change. It doesn't stop at the wish of the free world. Of the many species that inhabited the earth, only a few remain. A grave tragedy indeed but also a great truth. All things that have taken birth have already started to march towards their demise. What more can be said about humans! We are not different. It has to be faced.

But what is in us that can withstand the mighty blow of time is a question worth thinking over.

I believe it is the action that we perform over our life time that can make a difference to the world that is still being nursed at the womb of the mother. Our actions doesn't have to end with our death. This I believe is what makes us different from all other species. Our deeds are remembered for aeons.

Is it not our responsibility then, to make this world a better place worth living even if we know that over the time it will also meet its end. But alas how naive we appear to understand this world, Our so called Mother Nature. Why do we have to be so greedy? why do we want to live life as if we can live till the end of the world. We have to make room for the new young ones and give them a better, more healthier free world.

Material comforts have put a huge toll not only on the climate but also on other living beings inhabiting this world as well. We hear it all the time. And we keep on ignoring. It is happening in some other country, to some other people. We heard the news and we are so sad. Nature is going to the dumps. But you know my neighbour just got a new dining table made of pure Rosewood. I cant stand her smile. I should get one for myself.

what does it mean, " Honey!Lets go and chop some trees and disrupt this eco-system and by the way I almost forgot, put our child to hunger and misery."

Our actions have both direct and indirect consequences and we cant pretend to be naive the impact of our deeds has on this world. Ignorance is bliss, and addiction to it will lead to the ultimate suffering.

We know what we have to do, all we need is to take that first step... We have to awaken ourselves from this self induced sleep. It is time for the Awakening...

SMOKING MUSHROOMS: Insight on Outliers

" A large, mushroom-shaped cloud of smoke, flame and debris that rises into the sky as a result of a large explosion, especially after a nuclear explosion"

"Outlier:A person or thing away from others or outside its proper place."

"Outliers is nothing less than a nuclear explosion"....

I read " OUTLIERS" by Malcolm Gladwell and the first thing that came to the mind was, could this really be true. Story of success has a lengthy history of its own. And it is no feeble fable. Facts and figures hounded me over three days on completion of the book. What about the age old sayings bombarded day in day out! Books, magazines and inspirational tales of success. Vanished after 300 odd pages. Wiped out in a huge cloud of smoke and now the dust and debris lie somewhere in the periphery of my mind.

The Book has challenged the conventional thinking of ages. Proved that "individuality" after all is a collective effort and is dependant on many factors but the H.C.F is hardwork and there is no substitute to it.

In order to be the greatest Jackass or the smart-ass you got to spend ten thousand hours doing it...

That's the summation of success.

The Beatles, Mozart and many other similar awe-inspiring names had worked hard and were present at the right place at the right time. That made a huge difference to the outcome of the individual's career and the society at large. The same can also be summarized for Mahatma Gandhi, Pandit Nehru, Sachin Tendulkar, Amitabh B. Raj Kapoor and many others.

Nobody inherited Talent or whatever that word means, each of them was Born into an age where the world was waiting for individuals to take up the challenge, armed with out of the box thinking and hours and hours of hard work and grit behind their back to meet the challenge head on.

I have seen both natural and artificial mushrooms throw dense white fumes, toxic waste in to the atmosphere. The natural ones i never tried to gulp down but the amazing artificial mushrooms are the ones I cherish to chew up in my head.

The Mustang

Enzo Ferrari was a true genuis. May he rest in peace.

Year 1989:

However as a five year old, i had often wondered, where would the driver squeeze himself in my brother's racing car; the foot long red Ferrari. During those days, I had no idea what a formula one car looked like. All i was concerned about was, first; it could zoom past you with thundering sound if you happen to clap your hands, second: i didn't had one with me. The car belonged to my elder brother and was one of his prized possessions. A toy not be touched by anyone. My brother Zubin, never used to play with toys. His interest lay in reaping them apart to see what

lay beneath. How they worked, why they made sound, etc. his childhood curiosity got the best out of him and no doubt he became an engineer.

But this was a matter of concern to me. We both knew the toy had travelled all the way from Bombay to prove our dexterity. I was the unanimous choice for the gift. In fact for any gift. I was the one who cared, nurtured and maintained my toys before their sad demise. It was beyond my comprehension how it landed in his hands. I wanted it. I couldn't. I was jealous. No other toys seemed to come close towards the beauty and panache of the Red Ferrari.

But i had a mission to accomplish.

First came the clapping, then pulling, pleading, begging, crying, kicking and little skirmishes and terror attacks on my brother. Nothing seemed to daunt his will. The attacks continued, i was a shrewd diplomat, a great general and i knew the art of war. Atleast i thought so...The ongoing skirmishes, became full fledged war and just like any war, the result was devastating to both of us. Both of us were parted from the object of our desire. Soon enough, the Ferrari landed in the darkness of a towering locker. It was the graveyard for what our hearts desired. Both of us knew we wouldn't be seeing it in the near future.

The big iron doors were opened only during festive season. Out came the toys, but all eyes would be fixed on the " Taali mara car(Clapping car)". All my cousins, uncles and aunts would assemble in the living room. The red Fe

rrari would zoom past them and all would be delighted that finally the toy lay in able hands. Cheers and hurrays would fly by. And thus the lord of the Ferrari, the skilled driver would stand and bow down with reverence and style of his own. After the show, the toy would go back to the graveyard until the next Dussehra.

Four years later...

While roaming in the Bazaars of Berhampur, holding my Mom's hand, i came across a Toy shop. It didn't boast of a decent collection, but i was attracted to one particular toy, a small yellow convertible Mustang just over an inch in length. After lot of struggle and negotiation, promises of studying all night, i had my way. I returned with it, happy as a doodle. My heart skipping a few beats.I had the power of the wild horse in the palm of my hands. My first car. A Ford Mustang.
Since then we have been true buddies, we have travelled the world together. Skidding, maneuvering across mountain slopes, vast width of the river, the long road never ending. the mountains were steep at many places and there were occasional earthquakes. The mountains happened to be the creases made on the blanket that my dad wrapped while sleeping. It was as white as the snow. The open road, wind howling across my ears and my little dream pushing across the vast plains... (the bed). I kept pushing it to the limits, the tyres making a high pitched metallic sound. It travelled across the valleys and plains, on roads and forests alike. there were no cops giving tickets or stopping the yellow thunder from breaking the speed limits..It was the world to me. Freedom beyond my immediate surrounding. The man, with the untamed beast.

Ages have passed. Things have changed.. we have both grown up and wide. However those few moments of life never seems to end.

in the year 2008 my brother's dream of seeing the Red ferrari in action came true on a trip to Japan. The red ferrari looped lap after lap across him on the Suzuka race track. Roaring and thundering as minutes passed by... I think it may be one of the best moments of his life to see Michael Schumacher thunder past him.

As for me, the thought of riding the Mustang across the vast unconquered lands still rekindles a great hope. A hope to ride into freedom from my thoughts, my surrounding, my failures, my achievements, my days and nights.

Mustang...
One day i will be riding you.

Strange Ranger...

---

"
Stuntman Mike: Well Pam, which way you goin' left or right?
Pam: Right.
Stuntman Mike: Aww, that's too bad.
Pam: Why?
Stuntman Mike: Well, because there was a fifty-fifty shot on whether you'd be going left. You see, we're both going left. You could have just as easily been going left too and if that was the case, it would have been awhile before you started getting scared. But since you're going the other way, I'm afraid you're gonna have to start getting scared... immediately!"
From Death-proof


Its kinda strange!, A feeling i get, not often but once in a while, to express the cursing ache in my heart..
you know the way you felt guilty witnessing the killing of the poor chicken for the first time.
that flutter in your stomach and pity on the miserable chicken.
You walk away paying the butcher and then... you get over it.
You don't feel the same the next time or time after that.

I felt the same except for the fact that i wasn't killing any one , neither was I paying.

Jack was the guy next door, cool as a cucumber. young, vibrant, always eager to help.
He had the uncanny gift to fix anything mechanical. Be it lawn

On the Road again...

The water was kinda cold for Bangalore weather... I waited for the gush of shower to do its trick. It was soothing to the nerves and almost washed away the pain of the nightmare.
It was 5:00 Clock. The day had finally come by. There will be no more looking back. I was ready.
I put on my ipod, a ragged wranlger jeans, still ragged shoes and a fancy "hell rider" T-shirt. Although I had wished to take my cell with me, but i decided against it. Somehow I wanted to be away from everyone I knew.
The first rays of the sun kissed the earth. The night was slowly fading away into some distant land. I stood beside the bike, studied it minutely as if it was a laboratory specimen. It was always a satisfying feeling when the bike looks ready to undertake a long hard journey.
One Long Breath gushed out of me.
And the next moment i knew i was on the road again. Here i am again, driving the black Pulsar 150 CC in full throttle. the engine roaring like a jet on that deserted road. In a few minutes i was out on the highway. and after an hour of drive , i had left back the last traces of the mundane, sloth like life of the city. I was free again; roaring, thundering across many vehicles, big and small.

The thing with driving alone, is you get bored soon and you start thinking, dreaming, laughing all at the same time.
The thought of home, just made it difficult to concentrate on the road. I just wish i could travel all the way back to the house that brought me up to face the world, the narrow country roads upon which the Bullock carts had left its trace. The village belles holding big earthern pots on their head and walking along the road. the vast green rice and paddy fields, running away into the horizon. It was green all around. Green as a banana leaf.
And i roared on...

i had almost travelled for 6 hours without a halt and my limbs had started to fill numb.



to be continued....

A broken blade...

“All that is gold does not glitter,
not all those who wander are lost;
the old that is strong does not wither,
deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
a light from the shadows shall spring;
renenwed shall be blade that was broken,
the crownless again shall be king.”
From Lord of the rings... By J.R.R.Tolkien

Turning Cold Turkey

"Cold turkey" is a term describing the actions of a person who gives up his habit or addiction at a single moment, rather than through gradually easing the process through tapering off or supplemental medication. " Wikipedia

I wouldn't say falling in love is bad, no it never is... its blissful,
its the falling out that hurts...
I have been in and out of it, a couple of times just like you! I had my share of pain and joy. And I have  learnt all my lessons the hard way!
So I dared to end it in a single moment!! All the pain and suffering in that one moment. In that split second of my life...

So just like any other story, anywhere across the world, in any time and through any generation this is about a girl and a bit of luck
I have always asked myself a question, Is it right to share about a life of failures, joy and pain with you?

The answer is Yes!!!!
Yes! I Would; because just like you, i have a story to tell, an experience to share and a puzzle to solve. And above else being a human, blessed with the ability to make a conscious choice under any circumstances, I feel this is a righteous choice .

And so it begins....

I held my heart in the palm of my left hand, and dragged myself slowly towards oblivion.The heart is a throbbing mass of muscle, scarlet, with tendons oozing out blood with every throb, but that day it somehow settled down in my outstretched hand. I walked slow but steady and I felt my legs were on a course of their own, unmindful of my conscience. They walked alongside my mind without intention of going where I wanted them to go. Momentarily I would look back to the palm of my hand and it was still there, my heart, neither could i put it down, nor could I put it back to where it belonged inside me. With my mind paralyzed conjuring every possible nightmare,  I walked on, each step after the other, with the dread of a knight who is about to slay the dragon, once and for all.
In that moment I realized what it takes to become a man, to fight the Goliath, to have the heart to see blood ooze out of it like slime.
That monsoon night sky was darker than any other night, everything sound drowned in the sea of darkness, even the sound of screeching tires beside me seemed a far cry. I hovered around the majestic apartment, troubled and sweating... and before I could take my next breath, I was somewhere, on some floor, in front of a dark wooden door of that building. The ring of the bell was answered on the 3rd call.
The door opened giving out a little cry as if to say, now is the last chance, just turn and run away... go away, you don't have to slay any dragons, My legs froze in that sudden palpitating moment and I was still holding my heart.
There she was, a princess, cascade of hairs flying across her bright face shaded with a curtly smile, perfected over the years, unknowlingly inviting me to step into her world. I felt as if pleading her against my wish to hold out my heart for me.
It was heavy, could she just hold it for a moment. Just this once. Never again.
And she did hold my heart, cupped in her hands, relieving me of my trouble. She mended it and put it back to where it belonged, inside me. It was a simple act of courage. And she didn't fail me. I went on to her apartment, met with her family, her husband and a little angel tottering around her legs, lost in some dream world of her own, just like me.
I shared a brief moment with her family, a conversation with her handsome young husband, took her parents blessing and walked away from her life not turning back for once. The days that followed were miserable in every sense of the word.
Halucinations of a better life hovered like a bee, stinging with a will of it's own, again and again. Something was lost in that moment. A realization dawned on me that this was the last meeting. Never again shall I meet her. Never again...