Ode to Cynicism

Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot, Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here, The Notebook (film), calligraphy exhibitions. A growing fascination for these means not all's quite well in your life. Did I say my life? No, I meant yours, and you could be anybody. Even me.

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil

As I walked in the garden of good and evil, little did I know how I was being consumed. Now that I know, I am nothing but a skeleton.

Pursuing happiness

Of all the qualities that people my generation have, the one I respect the most is the sheer irreverence we tend to have for certain things. And a part of this irreverence is the casual detachment most of us have towards a couple of things in life. Something that was a prized possession once (even if in our thoughts), transforms into a memory--- good or bad, you don't know. You gave birth to a dream and began to live it as well. You nurtured it with utmost care and believed in it when others mocked your obsession. You realised that they were right, but pretended to move on hoping for the impossible to happen. You grow with the dream, the dream grows on you. You bloat with the hope of an impending happiness. And then...


.... it is all over. You can't figure out why or how? It's just over. What comes along is another hope, another place where you can find happiness. It is like a shallow pond that has nothing to offer you except for a momentary high. This is when you realise you are dreaming...dreaming once again of greener pastures, those subtle drops of rain and the flower beds. Your flight of fancy has taken off pretty well. Will it come to an end soon. Maybe, maybe not. It's the rise before the fall, its the salvation preceding the doom

The Other Knight

It took me a week to realise why exactly I liked The Dark Knight. There were great special effects, Batman had a new vehicle to drive and finally Heath Ledger. I must confess I like such psychologically s*****d up characters but this one certainly takes the cake. You see, for me, first impression is not the last impression ... it's more of a teaser. SO WHAT DID I DO?

After a rather gruelling day at work, I decided to watch the film again… alone. And so on a rather lazy Thursday evening I went to see the latest installment of the caped crusader’s latest adventure. After a second watch, the movie seemed to be a parable of the eternal good versus evil conflict. It seemed like an extended lecture on Milton's Paradise Lost, for this wasn't just yet another that heavily banks on the popularity of the heroism of the superhero in question (sometimes even imposing it), but it was something more.

I found most of my answers in the Joker. Being a sceptic myself, I found the anarchist in the Joker more appealing. He is very similar to Milton’s Satan (in the early sections of Paradise Lost). Like Satan, he too questions the authority of an established order, in this case as a self-proclaimed vigilante. Like Satan, he too convinces people to sin, and in fact succeeds in transforming Harvey Dent to a potential murderer (remember the way the serpent convinced Eve to eat the apple). Like Satan, the Joker too, admits being an 'agent of chaos'. It’s a choice he has made seemingly because of a father who was “a drinker and a fiend. And one night he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn't like that. Not. One. Bit. So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. Turns to me and he says "Why so serious?" Comes at me with the knife,"Why so serious?" He sticks the blade in my mouth. 'Lets put a smile on that face!' And..... Why so serious?” He also remembers his wife in one of the most poignant scenes in the film. “I had a wife, beautiful; like you. Who tells me, I worry too much. Who tells me, I ought to smile more. Who gambles, and gets in deep with sharks. One day they carve her face. We have no money for surgeries. She can't take it! I just want to see her smile again. I just want her to know that I don't care about the scars. So I stick a razor in my mouth and do this... to myself. And you know what? She can't stand the sight of me! She leaves. Now I see the funny side. Now I'm always smiling!”

A viewer never really gets to know if all this really happened or if this is just a figment of a 'psychopath's imagination'. But what seemed more real to me was the fact that the character, pretty much like his other half (read Batman) makes an attempt at heroism through a battle that's more psychological than physical . His heroism is anarchy, chaos, anything which could shake the very foundation of an otherwise acceptable existence. Come to think of it, there's a lot that binds the destinies of these men. Both have had seemingly troubled childhood. Both choose to hide behind a mask and most importantly both, in their own ways, claim to be vigilante. While one attempts to don the hat of a saviour, the other is the self-proclaimed new "classic gangster that the city needs".

What I liked about the film was the way Batman's pedestalisation is deflated in the film. This time Batman wants someone to take forward his legacy (through DA Harvey Dent who ultimately goes against what he once stood for), wants to be with his lady love (who chooses someone else over her long time love interest), makes a choice as to who to save (he saves Harvey Dent while Rachel dies in a trap set by Joker) and finally accepts to wear the mantle of a Dark Knight (even though he has not killed Moroni). In a nutshell, towards the end of the film, even though he remains a guardian figure, but by then the society he's been protecting has already turned its back towards him. The Joker wins the battle.


So what exactly makes the Joker more convincing to me?

a) He wants to puncture the deification of Batman by asking him take his mask off. Once the mask is off, would the hero be still worshipped? Probably yes, but even then at least he would come across as a more human a figure.

b) He doesn’t want to kill the superhero because ‘you complete me”. In a rather poignant scene in the film, the Joker says ‘You just couldn't let me go could you? This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. You truly are incorruptible aren't you? You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness, and I won't kill you, because you're just too much fun. I think you and I are destined to do this forever.” They truly complete each other. Probably that's why neither of them wants to kill each other.

c) Millionaire Wayne aka Batman is just too heavily dependent on technology to rescue him (probably because he can afford it) while the Joker falls back on his dry wit and presence of mind. That proves more powerful as the narrative progresses.

If the negative characters are so deeply etched like this one, a day will come when movie buffs like us would go and watch superhero flicks for such super'villains'.

Surviving Brida

Reading about a quest for fulfilment has rarely been this predictable an experience for a Paulo Coelho reader. But there's always a room for exceptions. The author's latest book, Brida, delves on quintessential Coelho themes --- search for wisdom (read Soul mate), magic, failures and self introspection. The story is set in the eighties where a young Irish woman embarks on a journey, both physical and psychological, to find her Soul mate. In her endeavor, she seeks the help of a witch, Wicca and a 'wise man', Magus. To attain that everlasting wisdom she does not mind spending a night in the woods, even though it scares her to death. She "dances to the sound of the world" and wears each and every cloth in her wardrobe because "everything that contains energy should be in constant movement". Twenty one year-old Brida's journey might be a novel experience for her but not for a Coelho reader who has treaded on similar paths before as well (remember The Alchemist and The Witch of Portobello). However, there are moments of self introspection. For instance when Brida is advised to wear all the clothes in her wardrobe, she wonders "Perhaps Wicca had overstepped the bounds of her power. Perhaps she was trying to interfere in things she shouldn't." At this stage, the reader can't help but celebrate the protagonist's pragmatism, so what if it lasts only for some milliseconds.

Pitted against her is a witch, Wicca, who like Magus, sees 'the gift' in her and helps her 'find the Soulmate'. For the uninitiated, Wicca is also a term used to refer to a modern version of an old witchcraft religion. While Brida is still jostling between the ifs and the shoulds, Wicca, on the other hand is a complete believer. Magus comes across as more believable of all the characters. One gets acquainted to the genuinity in his very first meeting with Brida, when he realises 'he had met his Soul mate', but simultaneously wonders 'She's pretty. But I am twice her age." At yet another poignant stage in the narrative he realises his masculine needs are more important than the ones he has being a Teacher of the Tradition. And then there is a moment of realisation, "The Magus watched Brida lie down on the ground. He tried to concentrate only on her aura, but he was a man, and a man always looks at a woman's body."

You certainly can't miss those one -liners that form the core of all Coelho narratives. "We might know the how, where and when of being here, but the why will always be a question that remains unanswered." or "Gardeners always recognise each other, because they know that in the history of each plant lies the growth of the whole world."


The novel is pacy and just in case you feel too compelled, you can read it on a lazy weekend afternoon.

A drink and a heartbreak later...

A drink and a heartbreak later, you begin to wonder if life was just incidental to living. Even if it was, it has to be lived. There are things to look forward to and people to run away from. Every high has to be cheered for and every fall has to be lamented. Happiness is not just over-rated, it's also overpriced. We all have our Godots to wait for. They turn their faces when they see us, only to return when they aren't needed any more. The tragic farce is that you live your life but that life never lives in you.

A bit of Neruda

Nothing beats Pablo Neruda. Of many of his poems that I have read, this one's my personal favourite.

Thinking, Tangling Shadows

Thinking, tangling shadows in the deep solitude.
You are far away too, oh farther than anyone.
Thinking, freeing birds, dissolving images,
buying lamps.

Belfry of fogs, how far away, up there!
Stifling laments, miling shadowy hopes,
taciturn miller,
night falls on you face downward, far from the city!

Your presence is foreign, as strange to me as a thing.
I think, I explore great tr5acts of my life before you.
My life before anyone, my harsh life.
The shout facing the sea, among the rocks,
running free, mad, in the sea-spray.
The sad rage, the shout, the solitude of the sea.
Headlong, violent, stretched towards the sky.

You, woman, what were you there, what ray, what vane
of that immense fan? You were as far as you are now.
Fire in the forest! Burn in blue crosses.
Burn, burn, flame up, sparkle in trees of light.

It collapses, crackling. Fire. Fire.
And my soul dances, seared with curls of fire.
Who calls? What silence peopled with echoes?

Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude,
hour that is mi9ne from among them all!
Hunting horn through which the wind passes singing.
Such a passion of weeping tied to my body.

Shaking of all the roots,
attack of all the waves!
My soul wandered, happy, sad, unending.

Who are you, who are you?

(From Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair)