Reignited Interest

I’ve begun making fancy bead jewelry again.

beads

It’s been long since I had given up on the art of making do-it-yourself jewelry. It all began with a class in school, where we were asked to get creative with thread and beads.

I came up with stuff I never knew I could do. With the help of the internet and other fancy stuff we see on television, I learnt to create patterns on my own to make bracelets, chains and ear rings.

One thing led to another. And soon, I was sitting up all night making bracelets, even though I never had the interest to wear them.

The suddenly, it all changed when a “friend” asked me to do a bracelet for her, and then displayed it as if she had made it. That was the end of it all. The friendship, and my interest in putting beads together.

You can call it childish , because I was young. Thirteen, if I’m not wrong. And at that age, you get offended for things like that. (Honestly, I’ll get offended for something like, no matter how old I am.)

Now though, it’s all back.

Refreshing Memories With Nancy

Nancy Drew

It’s been long — literally years — since I abandoned Nancy Drew to the unavoidable circumstance of growing up.

After such a long time, I was able to lay my hands again on the series when I visited a book fair at home.

This book fair comes to my hometown twice a year; in July and in December. And though I have been to the fair more times than I care to remember, I am, unashamedly, every time overwhelmed by the collection they seem to display.

Any vain pride that I have about knowing a lot of books, is just washed away in a huge wave of unheard authors and books.

But it was Nancy Drew that helped buried memories surface. So I bought a Nancy Drew: Girl Detective trilogy. (I didn’t even know Nancy Drew came in trilogies!) This particular trilogy is the Eco Mystery Trilogy.

I started reading the first book and was surprised (like countless times before when it came to books,) with the narrative. All of the previous Nancy drew books I had read followed the third person narrative. This trilogy however, was of Aladdin Publications (whose books I’ve never read before)  and followed the first person point of view. That was unexpected. I have never experienced Nancy describing a situation from her view. It was rather bizarre. It had always been the narrator-writer, Carolyn Keene, who told us about Nancy and her friends.

This Aladdin Publications raised a question in my mind: how was the stories originally written? It is possible that the author herself adopted a change of point of view? As always, I turned to Wikipedia. It says that Carolyn Keene was a pseudonym that multiple authors wrote by. So Nancy Drew was a work of multiple authors, the revelation leaves me a little disappointed.

Moving on to other things, there was one other thing about the story that caught my attention than anything else. It was the simplicity of the narration. This is one thing that almost everyone speaks of nowadays. But what I’m trying to point out here is that the books are so simply written that it involves less or no effort to read it.

That’s really important, in any book. As we grow up, we move on to bigger and, what we assume, better books that are merely complicated reads. In other words, they are just simply too tough to read easily. Which is one of the reasons reading has become a chore.

Mysteries are knotted, complicated and twisted. If a writer (or many) can vividly bring crime scenes to our minds, without using twisted vocabulary and grammar, then it is a good read, isn’t it?

Children’s and young adult mysteries like The Famous Five, The Secret Seven, Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys are all great examples of simply describing serious plots.

We do need more of such books, if we are to encourage youngsters to read. Maybe after reading effortlessly and loving it, kids would opt to explore the more complicated plots.

Just a random thought.

A Journey Within… on the Highway

I think we made a huge mistake going for the movie. It made me ache in places I didn’t know I had. “A journey within” was the caption. I should have expected it.It was a really deep journey. Particularly the last 45 minutes, with a deep message — a social one (obviously!) but told in a subtly pricking way.

The locations were amazing. The music — needless to say, a A.R. Rahman musical. But there was something else — something that made me feel like I’m missing out on something in life. Obvious, you might think. Because it is. I am missing the liveliness of Nature. And watching Alia Bhatt reminded me a bit of a nomad’s life. Perhaps it was the icy mountains that added to the coldness that the movie ended with.

Later, when I was back home trying hard to not visualize the scenes in front of my eyes, something quite unexpected happened. Every programme on tv, and everything I spoke of with my room mates, reminded me of the movie. I simply couldn’t get it out of my mind. Even now, as I’m typing out this piece, first thing in the morning, I am listening to the songs. It seems like I can’t get over it, like trying to give up after multiple attempts at an unrequited love interest.

The greatest thing about the movie was that it was a love story, but not a love story too. It’s not one that we’re used to in Indian cinema. I know we’ve heard that comment too many times to know better than to believe it, but really, for me, this was so different.

Here’s what I found out: everyone who watches that movie can find themselves relating to the characters at least once. And I don’t just mean the girls.

From what I could deduce from my fellow audience in the theatre, almost all of them had that glum feeling of being stuck in reality, and not being able to make that one journey within, the journey that could change our lives.

Even I, who can’t understand a word of Hindi, was moved by the movie. This movie will reach heights. It might not make a blockbuster hit, and make it rain dollars, but it will touch the people. And that’s what makes “Highway” a successful journey.

Valentine’s Day – or so they call it

Ah! Love is in the air.

Oh, really? I couldn’t care less. Everyone is talking about the great Valentine’s Day. Really, what is the purpose of Valentine’s Day? Everywhere I see, I can see shops all draped in red and pink with ridiculously stuffed hearts. Not to mention the sequins and the glitter that make them shine, and pain my eyes.

I’m not really against love. What I’m against is spending money on huge human sized greeting cards, each with a message of love(!), that someone wrote to make money.

I appreciate love. Pure and unconditional love. But, we don’t need a day to celebrate love, we don’t have to confine affection to one day. Any day is good for that.

Talking of unconditional love, I remember this short story. Enjoy, if you haven’t already.

The Gift of the Magi — O. Henry

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one’s cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

Read on…

A Lingering Stress Buster

There are some days, some times, that you just feel like leaning back on your chair, wishing that the song playing inside your head would never end.

Happens.

A lot.

To me.

Music.

music washes away...

It keeps playing, preventing you from doing anything other than listening. The words, the tune, the sound of the strings of the guitar that seems to quietly tease you to sing along. To forget the world, to ignore everybody.

On a dull day, it’s bliss.

On a great day, it’s bliss.

You’re sad, and some good music is all that you might need to heal. It’s what seals the heart that’s torn at the seams.

The notes striding smartly on the staves, pausing at the right time, pausing just long enough, to create an impact that lasts, probably forever.

Simple, but it has such power. I’m happy and it’s the music that shares my joy. I’m sad and it’s the music again that seems to hold my hand, whispering in my ear that everything would be alright. It’s what makes me believe, even if I know it would and could never be alright.

I don’t know if the magical world of Narnia exists, but I do know that there is one magic that makes its existence well known by persistently ringing in my ears.

Music is Might.

Music is Magic.

You probably already guessed it right.

This whole post is just a result of an overdose of subtle music that’s been playing in my ears all day.