in transit

Scene 1

Person1 is sleeping in the corner seat in the subway car. Person2 is sitting adjacent to Person1 and reading a newspaper. The subway car comes to a station, the doors open, Person2 is still reading the paper. The chimes go off to indicate that the doors are closing. Person2 realizes that this is their stop. “Oh shit!”, says Person2 before they drop the newspaper on the floor and run towards the doors.

Scene 2

Person3 walks into the subway car. Sits in front of the paper and starts to read it without picking it off the floor.

Scene 3

Person4 and Person5 are reading the paper and start having a discussion over one of the articles.

Scene 4

Person6 (guy) and Person7 (girl) are sitting next to each other, both reading that paper. Person7 goes to turn the page but Person6 interrupts, “I’m still reading.”

They strike up a conversation and at the end Person7 decides to give Person6 her number. She has a pen, but nothing to write on. “You have a piece of paper?”, she asks. Person6 searches his pockets and finds nothing. Person6 decides to tear off a piece of the newspaper and Person7 writes down her number.

Scene 5

The subway car comes to a stop at a station. Person1, sleeping all this time, is startled. The chimes go off. Person1 realizes this is their stop. “Oh Shit!”, says Person1 and runs towards the doors. Person1 steps on the newspaper and slips and falls to the floor.

The doors close.


triumph over hope: at rest

Jacob is sleeping in his room right now. He is at rest. But really, he has always been. The words above are the first time he’s said anything or communicated in anyway in the last six weeks. Those words were transcribed from what he said to himself in his room after returning from a routine walk outside. He was alone in his room at the time and I was standing just outside.

I’m not sure how I should react. I am not shocked nor surprised, though we have not been able to pinpoint his condition, we know to expect something like this. Still, I am dismayed. Not because the words don’t reflect the outer reality. His room is spacious and there are a few windows. He is in control of the lighting and there is hardy ever any darkness. His sleeping patterns are, for the most part, regular. I am dismayed because there is someone in him who would say those words. And further dismayed because there are people everywhere who would share his sentiments.

Hope cannot be torture for that is not the nature of hope. Torture is the absence of hope. Hope is yours to keep and yours to drop. No one else can take hope from you. But how do I tell him that? How do you communicate with someone who not only does not think like you, but sees a different world? He sees a different reality. So when I hold his hand, I wonder what he sees.

I’m not sure what I do next, there are no guidelines for this. I need to figure things out. I have to do something.

iron man

I shouldn’t be alive, unless it was for a reason.

While I understand the type of resourcefulness one engages in when time is short and life is at stake I found it slightly difficult to accept that even the great Tony Starks could make that suit in a cave in Afghanistan. But I kinda did anyway, just so I could watch the rest of the movie.

Movie had one-liner situations that made me laugh out loud and other funny machine-human interactions. I also liked the ending. But overall it was highly predictable, sometimes that can be good, not so in this case.

I’m not much taken by special effects, and why was Terrence Howard in this movie?



This post is inspired by Geetha’s posting of one of her childhood stories (one of many to come, hopefully). I really don’t remember too many stories from my childhood. So I’ll post a moment I had with my niece mid June this year.

It was some time in the afternoon and the rain was falling steadily. I climbed up with both knees on the couch, held the curtain to one side with my hand and started to just watch the rain fall on our front lawn and on the road ahead. Erum walks up behind me (in that style that she walks in =D) and asks, “du mama, kya kare aap?”. Du mama, what are you doing?

“Baarish ko dekhre”, I reply. I’m watching the rain.

“Hum bhi dekh satke aap ke saath?”. Can I watch with you too?

“Ji jaanu, aajao”. Yes jaanu, come on.

So we start to watch the rain. She held her side of the curtain, and I was holding mine. I began to notice a snail that was climbing up the fence in front of us. I immediately pointed it out to Erum, however she had some difficulty locating it. When she finally found it, both of us started to watch the snail. We spent a few good minutes in silence watching the snail with the rain falling in the background.

“Yeh snail bohut slow hai”, she said. This snail is really slow.

“Can you imagine how long it took for the snail to get up that high?”, I ask her. Hoping to plug at her imagination.

She says nothing, and we continue to silently watch the snail for a few more minutes.

“It’s really slow, it’s getting boring watching the snail”, she says in a slightly irritated fashion.

“Is it because it’s so slow?”


“Well, what would you rather do?”

“I don’t know”, she pauses a beat. “Let’s watch the snail.”

I burst out in laughter and she walked out of the room, in that style that she walks in.

letters from iwo jima

I saw both Flags of Our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima this weekend.

All I can mainly say is wow. I actually have not seen too many war films for me to be able to draw comparisons. I should probably see Saving Private Ryan and some other war movies (any recommendations?).

I like the perspective that Flag of Our Fathers takes, how it depicts the war on the ground itself and how it tackles what it is to be a “hero”. But at the same time, I thought it was somewhat confusing to follow with the Doc character narrating and his son interviewing. Perhaps that could have been better handled, though I don’t know how.

Letters from Iwo Jima was just unnerving. I wonder if the downplay of colour in the movie was a pre-production or post-production decision. Seems to have worked out really well. I liked the fashion in which this story was told better, and I suppose the letters narrative makes it more compelling. The story itself here was more gripping than Flags, though perhaps it is this way by design? Letters deals with questions of honour (suicide), and the treatment of POWs and leadership etc.

All together so well directed and edited. I need to dig up more Clint Eastwood movies. This guy is unreal.