Pansy posted a status expressing her thought on how dead people don’t age. I guess she lost someone close to her when she was thirteen. The loss of loved ones can absolutely break us down in ways unimaginable. Some people are never able to move on; they start hallucinating and cry over haunting memories. Just imagine how it would feel to lose a best friend. Who’d tolerate you in your worst states? Who’d help you get back on your feet when times seem harsh? I certainly won’t be able to cope with the death of Gaurav. I would lose most of myself after he passes away. I don’t want to think about it at all. Dying is pretty easy, to be honest. You just stop breathing, your heart stops pumping blood and the pulses cease to run. My grandfather once told me as he was laying on his bed, “baperok sai jabo kobi, ketia singi jau kobo nuaru”. What he wanted me to do is tell my father to see him one last time for he might not know when he’ll stop living. Although he survived cancer, he’s still suffering greatly. He was a very energetic person who didn’t shy away from hard, time taking work. But now, he can’t even get out of his bed without moaning out of pain. I didn’t really get emotional when he told me this but it kind of hurt me. I was a bit taken aback. I guess he’s just waiting for death to knock on his door. It’s all about that last moment before you close your eyes to life. I have no idea how it’d feel. What have we gone through as human beings? I am sure no one knows about the other’s life. I know what he has gone through in life. Hell, he has seen his eldest son speak his last words in front of his eyes. How heartbreaking would it be for a father to lose his eldest son? His eldest son was my nisa (elder uncle) who died of liver failure three years ago. I still remember how my mother sobbed as our car drove in to her natal house. The entire place was crowded that evening. My uncle was a well known personality in those parts. I cried because I saw others cry. I was a kid and I hadn’t really come to terms with the loss of family. I was almost oblivious to emotion. I can never forget that day. And sometimes, I think about him. I try to recollect memories of him in little corners of my head. He loved me like a father loves his son. He was the only person I loved more than anyone in my maternal family. I wish I had seen more of you. Life would have been so better and colorful if you still lived. Like all dead people, you left nothing but memories.
So selfish of you to leave your entire family alone. You left Mou and Mon (my cousins) and you wife alone. Mon, he was just three years old. He was so fucking young that he doesn’t remember how you looked. I doubt he has any memories of you. Then, you took away your children’s mother. It took another two years for Apaa (my aunt) to die of an impromptu disease. Your children lost everything. Now, they are living under my grandparents and younger uncle and aunt. I hope you know that Mou is stronger than she seems. She doesn’t cry anymore. I don’t know and seriously don’t want to know how she has coped with life for all these years. Just know that they can take care of themselves. You don’t have to pay any heed.
My parents annoy me a lot and I swear there are times when I wish for them to die. But is it that easy? I’d be forced to make major life decisions and I don’t think that I am ready. I know that I won’t be able to handle myself. I’d probably drink and drown my sorrows in smoke and music. Just know that I won’t recover. Dying, as I said is easy but coping is hard. That is all there is. Moments like these make me think about people I love and loved, how I want to tell them that they make my life better just by being in it. But then, everybody has to die.
WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN AFTER WE DIE
I have a theory on what happens after we die. I mean, most people think that life ends after birth. The presence of that particular human being vanishes off the face of the Earth. Then people would talk about rebirth or resurrections. I wouldn’t go down that alley but I have an analogy of my mine. I think that someone dies they almost instantaneously take birth somewhere else. The sense of being would of course disappear after you die. But that very sense of being would return. You’d come out of your mother’s womb crying aloud. You wouldn’t have any idea about your past life. You know how some people have ideas about what they were in their previous lives. It’s the same. People die. Period. They lose life and take birth somewhere else. It’s crazy but I live by it.
You know how crying without making any sound feels like? Well, If you know then you’d understand how heartbreaking it is. Nothing’s so soul crushing. You wouldn’t believe if I told you that I was crying while writing this. I just came back from my parents’ room with eyes as glossy as an arctic lake. I came back running to my room. As soon as Neil gets undressed and wears his crown, I switched off the television and rushed back. I mean, I started sobbing ten minutes before Neil could shoot himself in his father’s study. The entire movie gets painfully emotional and rather slow from that point on. I didn’t want to see him kill himself or watch Mr. Keating cry or witness Todd run into the snow because he just couldn’t bear knowing that his best friend had died. It would’ve made me sick. This movie will always be close to my heart, more than any other film. It’s amazing how it was made 28 years back but it still hasn’t lost it’s shine. It’s would be the best coming of age movie of all time if Linklater wouldn’t have thought about Boyhood. Let me make myself clear on why I love Dead Poets Society so much. Every teenager should watch how Mr. Keating teaches a classroom full of boys to make them have a different, more ambitious outlook. The very first words he spoke were Carpe diem which is a latin phrase famously known as seize the day. Which teacher would dazzle the impressionable teens on his first day? All I got was a robotic, deadbeat math teacher who kept providing us with ‘guidelines’ on how to behave in his class. I would only remember three high school teachers who effected my life in great yet varying degrees. I wish the number was higher. If every student had one Mr. Keating during their time, they’d create wonders. The movie was set in a more disciplined and respected preparatory school whose students made their names in law, medicine the other ‘sought’ after pursuits. For the heavily trained students, a teacher who stood apart from the others felt exciting to them. He simply swum against the stream. He enamored the boys with his love for poetry and life. The principal of the school didn’t approve of his ‘unorthodox’ and ‘not related to the course’ methods. He did everything differently; it was all about sucking the marrow out of life without choking on it.
Parents somewhat expect a lot from us. I mean why wouldn’t they? All they want to do is make their child’s future into a bright one. Ever since Mr. Keating came, the boys felt a lot freer. They weren’t forced to do a thing. Along the lines, they discovered themselves. Neil Perry found out that he was good at acting. Although his father wanted him to study hard and get him to be a doctor, he acted anyway. He was breathtaking in the play. God knows he could’ve done better in the future.
I could only relate. Just like Neil, I can’t just up and confess to my parents about my dreams and ambitions. For a fact, they wouldn’t understand it. And secondly, all they want me to do is earn money and live a pretty normal life. I wouldn’t shoot myself, of course. That’d be plain dumb of me.
Now, a question swivels in my head. Was Mr. Keating wrong? He planted many ideas in his pupils’ heads and somehow in the end, they were ruined. Almost broken. I think studying is as important as the work you put into your passion. Things turn to shit when you can’t manage the time to do what you love the most. It’s only fitting that good things might end in bad terms. Pre climax, the film got as depressing as it could be. But Todd showed some raw bit of confidence as he stood on his desk and bid farewell to Mr. Keating. And so did the others. Mr. Keating, finally got the applause and respect he blissfully deserved. I still remember his face glowing in pride. He put a warm smile on his face as he said, “Thank you boys.”
On a more personal note, I just want to say that wherever you (Robin Williams) are stay amazing. It’s kinda weird. You don’t even know me. All I do is worship you, all of you. You made the world empathise with you. I laughed and cried for you and I know nothing’s gone to waste. This is an ode to you.
Rest in peace, captain!
Lately, I’ve been having these sexual awakenings where I long to spend some time and make love to someone. It is not necessarily desperation, I wouldn’t call it an outburst of hormones or something like that. My sex life is not that active, I rarely go out of my room nowadays. I have a special friend who satisfies my body but we haven’t met in a long time. She is somewhat out of touch these days. We both aren’t to be blamed really. Today, I visited a temple with my parents. Right before entering the shrine, I had this drive to hold her body against mine and kiss her luscious lips. What a time and a place to get ‘horny’! I guess it’s perfectly normal for a healthy teenager to get these drives. I mean, why not? We are all mature teenagers who want to feel spontaneous and excited during intercourse. It’s a taboo because sex is supposed to be done and talked about ‘behind closed doors”. Nobody really talks about it. Why would they? It is more civil to talk about your break up than the way he made you come thrice last December. Not everybody can gather the guts to open up about their sexual encounters. It’s only about those two individuals who make love and celebrate their relationship. There is no absolute need for an outsider to intervene. What people really talk about are bodies and how they vary. ‘We’ prefer enlarged assets on our partners. It’s funny how big breasts stand taller than beautiful almond shaped eyes. I can somehow understand how a man feels when he is told that he’s not that big. Doesn’t mean that I have a small penis. I mean, who’d prefer a small, limp dick? How else could you please your girl? Some like trimmed pubes while others like it shaved. We are petty human beings with complicated likes and desires. We can’t always be satisfied with what we get.
But things change when two individuals fall in love. As they make love, they’ll sensually kiss each other and keep moving at a slow yet erotic pace. Their sexual organs won’t matter now (as long as they have them, of course). Realistically, sex can be rather disappointing. It’s not porn. It’s the ugly and underachieving sister of porn. But as practice makes a man perfect, in the same way intercourse can only relished in it’s most vivid form with effort and spontaneity. You got to be ambitious when it comes to the pleasing of your partner. Good sex is a progressive process. No one becomes a Johnny Sins without experience, resistance and a ‘big dick’.
Surprise your partner every once in a while and stay safe (use a condom).
The Japanese stranger stands up to leave. For a moment, he thinks to himself and eventually reaches into his slinging bag to take out a notebook. He hands it to Paterson calling it a gift. He says, “Sometimes empty pages present more than possibilities” and walks away. God knows where he went. Even though Paterson was feeling distraught ever since his dog chewed up his ‘secret’ notebook where he wrote all of his poems, he felt somewhat dazed after the Japanese stranger left. I guess life teaches us things we were supposed to, not because we want to. Destiny has it’s own supernatural path barely known to nimble human minds. I was feeling a little out of place ever since I got home, my favorite team lost and I couldn’t write at all. I posted a status on facebook saying I was dealing with a sizable writer’s block (which I am) and was bored to the point where I could go insane. But then I watched the beautiful movie ‘Paterson’, I picked up where I had left last night. I like think the words that came out of the Japanese stranger’s mouth meant something. I mean, artists cannot always keep creating. They need space, time and bits of inspiration every now and then. Paterson dealt with his shredded notebook in a very mature way which was impossible in my case. I would’ve cried my heart out. He was shaken yet couldn’t show. After he was gifted the notebook and those words, he was inspired enough to write something that naturally pleased him. Such is the highlight of my day. That Japanese stranger broke Paterson’s incubation period and so did mine. Hell, I am writing now. What could be more delightful than writing something that feels good? I can never put something before my writing. It’s what I live for and what I want to do. It might be the only thing I’m good at. Maybe Paterson felt the same as I did when I was dealing with this block.
On a more spiritual level, Paterson is real. He’s a living, breathing, walking and kissing human being. He is not a rock star or a multi billionaire. He’s a plain, blue collar citizen who has an ambitious girlfriend and a hungry dog. Nobody shall put this movie on the fiction shelf. Movies like these don’t come out very often. There is nothing extravagant or eventful about Paterson. He just wants to wake up to listen to a dream his girlfriend saw, eat cereal, write some ordinary piece of poetry based on what he sees everyday and drive the bus. The words he jots on paper are not mesmerizing or memorable; it’s observation disguised in detail and simple musings. He’d eat lunch on a bench looking at a scenic waterfall. Some things about Paterson feel so enchanting even though it’s so simple. I mean, for most people the movie is boring or not entertaining enough. There is a reason they are not artistic enough. They have no idea how to praise good, natural cinema.
“A good cinematographer must know how to present normal, routine elements of life in the most beautiful way possible.” Well, that’s quotable. Paterson is haunting. It’s so simple. A shoutout to the makers of this brilliant film, for they have created a world unto itself. And half the credit goes to Adam Driver to have acted so naturally complemented by a equally strong cast.
It is one of those rare movies that cast a magic spell on the patient and humble lovers of cinema. It has appealed to me in a way I didn’t think it could.
How many minutes does it take to smoke one regular sized cigarette? I’m guessing 5-6 minutes when you’re alone. I mean it’s a whole different story when you smoke alone; all the things you did yesterday come floating aground to your awareness while you get dizzy by the drags. I like to think that people who tend to be busy work are chainsmokers. They drown a hard day’s work into several smoke breaks spread out during the course of the day. They do it to become docile, almost to the point where nothing can invade your consciousness. You get so calm when you smoke that even if you want to be violent at that moment, you can’t. Those five minutes are somewhat precious. Take my father for an instance, sometimes I feel that he carries too much on his shoulders than a person of his mettle should’ve. He has so many problems regarding his brother, his son, his multiple jobs and an angry wife back home. He doesn’t want me to see him smoke but he does. I think he smokes a lot without being too cautious about it. He deserves those heavenly intakes. But what about me? I started smoking just to look cool. I can’t entirely smoke a large cigarette in one sitting, alone. I go on rampages only when my friends are around. I still think it’s cool to have a cigarette in between your lips burning lightly. You don’t know how cool Gaurav looks when he smokes with one hand pushed into his jeans’ pocket.
But smoking isn’t ‘cool’. It is not what you do for fun. It is probably the most harmful thing ever created. It has enough capabilities to tear your lungs apart until you form cancer or what not. That’s why most places restrict smoking. In the 70’s, smoking was even allowed in flights. Now it’s all just a matter of shame. People won’t miss the chance to give you an eye when they see you smoking. Our parents aren’t cool with it nor are our teachers. Cigarettes aren’t illegal, they are bought and sold openly and in large amounts. It’s one of the biggest industries in the world. But still, people are touchy with the matter of smoking. I smoke rather regularly but not much. I’ve seen people who I think have ace smimmers’ lungs. I’ve seen their eyes lit up when they come to know that this café’s got a smoking zone.
So where do we finally land on this subject? Is smoking bad? Well, I don’t think so. The smoking part doesn’t kill you so easily. But being obsessed about that smoke and the nicotine odor will definitely kill you. Anything can kill you. You smoke you die, if you don’t you still die. You must go by that age old statement,” too much of something is bad” which is delightfully true. But in the end, nothing beats the feeling of sharing a cigarette with your best friend under the stars. Also, cigarettes can prove to be effective catalyst for a good conversation.