How to train your dragon: March 2013

Monday, March 25, 2013

Stoked & Annayum Resoolum

A friend saw the movie three times. Honestly I will not attempt it, with any movie. But life, let us not talk about life. It has not been slowing down for some time. I can not sit in one place. I heard the movie is more than 3 hours long. It kept tempting me, with flashes of things that I like. A stolen glance, a trepidation, a hungry laugh and river journeys. Everything seemed slow. I went for the movie, for the slowness it seemed to be giving me, through all of the said above.

I use the word 'stoked', only, I repeat, only when I am too full.
I should write 'stoked' continuously, because that is the case!

Yet I drag out words, incoherently they jump out, the wordsmith here is not helping me either. The movie made me cry! For the beauty of it, not because the heroine dies in the end. Coming to think of it, I am the average cine-goer, who wants the heroines and heroes to win it in the end. Yet, I do take note of and appreciate poignant beauty of things. That is where the movie: "Annayum Resoolum" , wins. It reminds of a beautiful line from the song of Katie Melua- "...that beauty need only be a whisper.."

The movie wins hands down in stealing a stolen glance from you. Through the chink of your armor, through the chink of your defenses, through the chink of your tiredness with the world and life. The movie and the characters walks in on finger toes, ever so slowly, ever so silently, finds you in despair and emptiness, fills your heart with singular happiness that makes you sing the next whole day. I sang a ghazal the whole day, "Sammillooni.."!

I am grateful for the movie to have happened.
And yes, I may watch it .. probably more than three times.
But it demands me to give myself more..
A long corridor, a silent afternoon, a movie projector, running just for me and what "Annayum Resoolum" promises the next time..! There is promise in knowing just that!

Saturday, March 23, 2013

at times ..at most times; language is hopeless

read on for how poet delivers
the inevitable ..
failure of it all

read on,
my at times listeners

~
some times as i lay dreaming of you
night came by
then the day
a circle of seasons passed
then yet another
cracked mellowed wounded flowing
breathing dying birthing
i lay dreaming
a riot of colours
a flock of pigeons
the women with pitchers
men as gypsies' herders,
walkers of the earth
mooing animal sounds
flickers of hope
moans of despair
everything passed by
then even i wandered off
some times dropping
some times carrying
the histories of it all
as i lay dreaming ..
as i lay dreaming of you