Mischief not managed

I’ve watched the movie yet again – I’ve lost count as to how many times I’ve watched it, but it, as always, leaves me  hollow, pained and angry.

It really is surprising how an unknown actor, after a mind-blowing performance as your favourite fantasy character, can suddenly become an inspiration; an idol. That’s exactly what happened with Gary Oldman. I didn’t know  about him before Batman and Harry Potter. Having been lucky enough to read the books before watching the movies, easily my favourite character was Sirius Black. Of all the stories I’ve read post Harry Potter, I can still confidently say Sirius is my favourite. I’m not joking; I’m totally Sirius!

The moment I read the episode of Sirius’ death, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t ever watch the movie. The book and the words haunted me and I knew the movie wouldn’t be better. It proved worse. A few months later I, just like every other fool, thought I was ready to see the movie at last. I needed some time after the book and I indeed took it. Only, my calculations of being mature enough to handle it, were pathetic.

After his appearance in the 3rd movie, Gary had really made a mark on me. I was enjoying that moment when you realize that an actor did total justice to the character himself. Yes, I did enjoy the feeling. Having expected to see Gary as Sirius in the fourth movie, I was terribly disappointed. But no matter, I told myself, I’ll be soon watching part 5 and I’d see Sirius again. By this time, he felt like family.

When I did see him, I was utterly awed. He looked nothing less than handsome. What I liked most about Sirius is the fact that he turned a blind eye towards others’ view of himself. He wore decent robes and looked decent but underneath all those niceties that mischief and spark in the eye were still intact, unscathed. And I felt Gary had incorporated every cell of Sirius’s non-existent body into his own, and I adore him for it.

When I finally got round to watch the 5th movie, I honestly believed that I was prepared, despite knowing that it would be difficult to witness. I was mistaken. It wasn’t difficult; it was heart breaking. Every time I saw Harry and Sirius in the same frame (which wasn’t many) I could feel the powerful rush of emotion in my veins.

The movie being well poised, when the sad part came, I was first moved and then infuriated, which I feel even to this day. The movie had an extra piece of exchange between Harry and Sirius moments before Sirius’ death. When Harry artfully disarmed Lucius Malfoy, Sirius appreciated him, “Nice one James”. Those were his last words.

Sirius addressed Harry as James; Harry’s father and Sirius’ best friend. Sirius saw James in Harry while Harry saw his godfather as the closest he felt to a father. The brief relationship between them is one of the most beautiful relationships in the story. Sirius’ last words made my insides squirm. The old friendship story between James, Sirius and Remus ran amok in my head.

In less than a minute after this came Sirius’ death. That was irritating. Very.

Just after a wonderful scene from his own imagination, the director and the crew, did ultimate injustice to Sirius’ death. I’ve already mentioned (more than once, I think!) that Sirius is my favourite. Insulting his death got my blood boiling.

As far as I know, Sirius was never hit by a Killing Curse. It was another spell that threw him off-balance, right through the veil.The movie didn’t show it that way though. They seemed to think that a killing curse would’ve been interesting. So they made it that Bellatrix had cast a killing curse, thus killing him even before his body floated through the veil.

Sirius was not such a fool to let his wand-arm hang loosely by his side and catch a killing curse squarely on his chest, and I feel the movie had been filmed so. Watching it, with the knowledge that it shouldn’t have been that way, felt like Sirius’ character was incomplete.

Pissed off, totally

Workaholics!

Oh, bugger! These people are everywhere! Having newly joined as a trainee in a company, all I see around me is people who refuse to look away from their laptops. I’m surprised to see this though, because this is a place where people are supposed to enjoy working; they play cricket; catch up on latest gossips; get some coffee together. But I still call them workaholics because, honestly, I doubt that they think about anything other than their work, even while playing.

Their laughter doesn’t reach their eyes, the mirth doesn’t last long; they pretend to be sophisticated when all they want to do is have some fun honestly. I have a feeling that these people are not who they seem to be. Like they have two complete faces; one inside and another outside the company of their colleagues. Such a two-faced life!

Alas!

Not everyone is like that though; I’ve met some people who honestly say that they enjoy the job, or not. What annoys me is the pretence and false self-contentment of the  majority. Some are so pathetic. They know that they don’t like their job, yet they stick around, because they know that the money is good for their families. They are the pitiable who convince themselves that their life becomes worthy, when living for others’ pleasures.

Then, there is the other kind who feel that they love their job only when they have little or nothing to do at all. When these people are burdened with a heavy workload, they get so cranky and desperate. Oh, my! The look on their faces when they try hard to concentrate and try to retain the weight of their paycheck!

Are these, people who would listen to some stupid ranting of a youngster and try to change themselves? I don’t think so, but that doesn’t stop me from putting down my thoughts.

I’ve seen people who look up to the software community. I’ve seen the desperate longing in their eyes. Why?

It’s simple. Those who are not part of this elite believe this life to be paradise; that’s what they are forced to believe. All they see from the IT crowd is luxury. They cannot be blamed.

Not until they join this industry, that they realize that the life of a software guy is just disguised luxury.

This “software” industry just pisses me off. Already.

My Summer Travels

I visited Trichy during my Summer holidays. I’ve been wanting to visit Rockfort for a long time, therefore I was overjoyed when my father accepted my proposal, but I wasn’t too happy at the fact that  I had to wake up at 4.00 a.m.

Once on the streets, I was actually happy that we left early. While travelling from Salem to Trichy by car, we had to first leave the breathtaking Yearcaud scenery behind us. In that early hour, the silhouette of Yearcaud was beyond words.

At length, I saw nothing but trees and highways, but while travelling towards our village I was thrilled by a couple of rare sights. Firstly, I have seen goats, grazing the piles of garbage(!) on the streets of Salem but in complete contrast, I saw goats being themselves and grazing grass.That was the first time(and probably the last) I saw goats being – goats.

A few years ago, in a book about a fishing village, I read about a village dog, chasing the town dwellers’ car. This was something I only read. It would be absurd if it happened where I live, but I witnessed this while going on towards the village. A tiny dog, just about a foot in height, kept barking and chased the car. I must say, it was an amazing sight.

Moving deeper towards the village, I was disturbed at the fact that there were plenty of bare lands with boards, of housing plans. The lush greenery was soon to be adulterated by smoky buildings. Those lands had a look of all hope lost. The villages were the only lovable places of India and those would also soon be destroyed of their nature.

This year’s trip to Trichy made me realize the truth in Gandhi’s words,

                   -“India lives in her seven hundred thousand villages”-          

The trip also taught me that India’s life is gradually being sucked out of her, by her own inhabitants.

Alas!

Five Point Someone

A best seller, adopted into a Hindi movie which topped the charts for several weeks.

Well, that’s not a petty description. It’s the highest a novice author can dream of. Chetan Bhagat shook the Indian literary industry with his first novel; Five Point Someone, in which he portrayed life in India’s greatest institute of technology (or in simple terms, life in the hell on Earth) which, by the way, is supposed to be IIT.

 Though it portrayed a normal college story craftily, and there were some parts which were highly enjoyable, on the whole, I wasn’t too impressed by the story. I have no reasons, but the novel didn’t seem unique to me.

Though it was highly advertised that the book was adopted into a movie, I didn’t see too many similarities between the book and the movie. Only the theme seemed similar.

I am usually interested in the cover of a book. In this case, the cover just didn’t appeal to me. Firstly, it was white. The next thing, it looked like an illustration of a highly confused mind. Maybe that’s the way IITians’ minds are: disorganized.

Bhagat has openly criticized certain habits in IIT, though it’s worth noticing that Chetan Bhagat is an IIT alumnus himself. This is a story about three youngsters, who didn’t take long to realize that their common dream had taken the wrong turn, right into a nightmare. The story relates their lives, their trials and their not-too-many triumphs.

They go through a lot and love blooms, in addition to the educational burden. Their lives move on, and they never score more than five-point-something. At the end of their final year, they leave, as three five-point someones, each pursuing a different career. Life at IIT is tastefully said in this story, and yet again, IIT proves to be a student’s choice of a suicide spot. I am confused as to whether the author was criticizing the overall educational system or the way thing are done at IIT, or both. That, in my view, is the only confusion in this otherwise artfully knit story.

Victims of our beliefs

Indians and superstitions are inseparable. We allow our beliefs to define us. A typical Indian limits his range of thoughts to his superstitions and fancies. We all are aware of the fact that various superstitions exist, even among the well-educated families. Logical reasoning is not enough to uproot superstitions from our culture.

How can we explain it to a person, who discontinued his quest, just because a black cat crossed his path? Poor cat, would’ve been hunting for food. How, possibly can it be an evil omen? Now that I’ve mentioned that, I remember a quote I read somewhere: “A black cat crossing your path signifies that the cat is going somewhere”. Worrying about that cat’s sinister behaviour isn’t going to get us anywhere, so why worry?

If cat behaviour is tormenting us on one side, there are people who don’t want to face widows. What kind of honest reason can they give for avoiding a widow? It’s considered a bad omen if one faces a widow before doing anything auspicious. I don’t think any ‘god’, has told us to avoid or shun our fellow humans. Then why do some people ignore them? Is it a girl’s fault if she obeyed her parents; married the man they pointed at, who just happened to face an unnatural death?  People and society make these women vulnerable and then shun them saying they bring bad luck.

My friend accidentally dropped a mirror. It shattered to a million pieces, each reflecting her mother’s angry expression. She wasn’t angry because her daughter had broken an expensive mirror; what angered her was the simple fact that her daughter had broken a mirror. She said that it would bring seven years of bad luck! It was quite surprising; she was an educated and socially reputed woman, but here she was, worrying about a silly superstition. I can personally guarantee that I’ve broken a lot of mirrors before, enough to bring me a life-time of bad luck. These beliefs just don’t work.

We generally tend to blame others. If something bad happens, we blame cats for crossing our paths, we blame widows if our prayers aren’t fulfilled and we even blame crows for cawing if undesirable visitors turn up. We simply blame others and victimize them for our superstitions.

I think we can develop ourselves, only if we could accept the consequences of our own actions, instead of blaming others, in the name of god and superstitions.