ON 'BREAKTHROUGH ACTS' LIKE US...

Attention journalists (if you know to read) this is sort of a disclaimer that claims that this isn't an edited piece so if you're looking for a point in this statement it's just that I'm not lame as you geese are, because I don't have a third party poring over my works, and even if they did I'm not dumb enough to not be able to differentiate 'prodigality' from 'prodigiousness' and though this dumb thing's underlining the word in red, I don't care because I've counter checked (unlike you, whoever I'm referring to :P).

Well firstly, before i get into the actual topic, I guess I have a problem because the person I allude to isn't gonna read as creative a blog as mine, she (oops!) would rather go for Harsha Bhogle I guess, but anyway I don't mind at least I'm venting out my emotions which, otherwise, would result in burning of yet another 12 pages' worth shit as well as soot on my gas stove (technically, my mother's, but never mind). Yet, I am taking measures to make sure that the concerned person reads this, (if she doesn't, it's not my misfortune it's just her lucky escape and I'd really be grateful if anyone of you who read this care enough to dunk the information into an apparently empty head) so if YOU are reading this, THIS is what I want to tell you...

(What comes below isn't an own version 'sadly', but a straight lift from this 'amazingly helpful' website called 'www'freedictionary.com' where I'm sure you can quadruple-check, so you needn't heap me with your bullshit and hence - just read)

Prodigal - prod-i-gal:

adj.
1. Rashly or wastefully extravagant. prodigal expenditures on unneeded weaponry; 'drown away this stigma of prodigality' - 'my worst nightmare' by Roshan George Thomas (If you're reading this by chance, I'm still a fan, mate, and I'm sorry)
2. Giving/given in abundance, lavish or profuse: prodigal praise noun. One who's given to wasteful luxury or extravagance.

adv. prodigally

Prodigious - pro-di-gious:

adj.
1. Impressively great in size, or force, or extent; enormous. a prodigious storm
2. Extraordinary, marvelous; a prodigious talent
3. Obsolete (meaning it's not that obvious) Portentuous, ominous;

pro-di'gious-ly: adv.
pro-di'gious-ness: noun.

So, if anyone had read page 10 of 'THE HINDU - NXG' (an incredible weekly with an equally incredible staff that explore extremely innovative topics ranging from 'Drug abuse' to 'Sexuality' and 'Sexual choices') they'd know who I'm referring to, and I'm sure her 'breakthrough' didn't do Jesse Owens proud (even a bit!) for I don't know how he was a prodigal talent and I know for sure she couldn't know about his 'prodigality' because neither did he have enough on him to be classified as anything close to a 'spendthrift', nor did this posh princess live at that time to see Adolf Hitler treat the man with disrespect (he handed him the medal, not hanging it on his neck - sorry for the lack of subtlety, I think things need to be said 'direct') so anyway, as this is proving to be a personal attack on a 'goofball' reporter who didn't graduate her English class (OMG, that was so San Fransisco!!! *just for the rhyme*) and who apparently hasn't sense enough to ask people the right questions ('young like us' isn't getting anyone a pulitzer, and neither is she 'Stephen Glass' and again, I insult a man...) and actually wrote that Sachin Tendulkar's 142 amidst a 'Desert Storm' (name of the chapter in Gulu Ezekiel's version of the man's life) was his 'breakthrough act' when clearly he had a pretty smooth career to have highs and lows and the only thing that stopped him for a moment from hogging the limelight being his captaincy and the match-fixing issue, I really think I have to make her read this... Can I get some help, people? :P

So, I don't know... This could be my vengeance against the newspaper for not publishing my review of one of the greatest films of all time in their 'classic films' section - Ozu's TOKYO STORY (and for calling 'Four Weddings and a funeral' as a classic!) or a personal vendetta against shitty work involving skating over the basics and seriously, I think the girl needs an English course (not for speaking, of course, don't suggest FLUENTZY! :P) and I most definitely am not willing to teach her... Well, every 'dog' has its day (I'd be fired at by my own 'censor board' - that's my dad - if I use the feminine form of it) and maybe someone would pick her up for a proper scrub, so yeah...

I don't know if there'd be spelling mistakes or grammatical errors in what I've written until now, I'm not going back to check, so I think I need to be genuinely forgiven for those ;)

(not her though - throw her in the dungeon! :D :D :D)

KEYS TO THE STREET...

It's a momentary source of inspiration that made me write this thing. the first thing I thought about when I saw the title called 'THE KEYS TO THE STREET' was something like a house where the people are stuck inside and want a key to get out. And here's what resulted.

THE KEYS TO THE STREET

I had thought the tumbledown house was

inhabited by none, save for a field mouse,

still I walk up to the door and knock;

A shudder at sounds of footsteps inside,

retreat at the prospect of a vocal override,

curiosity busted by mad anger, and shock;

“O mortal soul, come help us out,

we’ve been trapped inside a 1000 years;

on a sullen shoal, death taking toll,

we’re fighting friends, fearing our fears;

fidgeting for life in a fickle furore,

Oh mighty one, we can stand it no more!

so please, slide the keys to the street,

under the door…”

“For as long as our internal tenure

we’ve never been a united lot;

and togetherness, it never was a lure,

what never was cannot be forgot!

Now we feel the need for amends to stew,

what say you? (awaiting your review!)”

When there’s a rebellion in the wake,

fear-forsake, it’s a door you must break!

“O condemned crowd, pay heed”, I said,

“there’s an autocratic army to pierce;

call out loud, arouse the living dead,

stoke your fires to dry your own tears;

command your courage than implore,

wait no more, for someone

to slide the keys to the street,

under your door…”

IT'S NOT JUST ABOUT TOKYO...

CLASSIC CINEMA - IT’S NOT JUST ABOUT TOKYO…

FILM: TOKYO STORY (1953)

DIRECTOR: YASUJIRO OZU\

STARRING: CHISHU RYU, CHIEKO HIGASHIYAMA, SETSUKO HARA

LANGUAGE: JAPANESE

The storyline: It’s about an elderly couple from a seaside small-town of Onomichi planning to make a trip to Tokyo to visit their children, who apparently live established lives over there, and how every son or daughter of theirs turns them out citing monotony and bustle in their respective lives, and how in the end there’s a death and subsequent circumstances to mark the irony of the whole thing. Well, in short, master director Yasujiro Ozu’s TOKYO STORY is a social drama that touches upon how clockwork and insensitive urbanization makes people.

The funny thing here is, just as ‘western’ critics saw ‘Crime and Punishment’ as nothing but a peek into the psychology of a killer, we find the same fate here as filmcritics see this as just a ‘cinematically vivid’ film (and hence hailed as one of the ‘ten best films ever’ by SIGHT & SOUND magazine) and not the ‘social masterpiece’ it is. Hence TOKYO STORY is renowned for adopting the technique of ‘ellipsis’ where important events are narrated and not shown, as well as low-angle shots where the camera seldom moves. I guess those are what the Americans saw in the film: Here’s what I felt about it.

Undoubtedly, TOKYO STORY isn’t a kind of film you would tolerate if you had on mind a ‘lively classic’ that ‘moves’. It’s incredibly slow-paced and there’s such inactivity in play that it’s like you see nothing but real life before your eyes. And there’s a considerable lack of impact in many sequences, particularly those involving the mother and the daughter-in-law where the characters are shown speaking directly to the camera in straight-face shots, and not to each other, which takes a toll on the amount of impact loaded in the words written. Also, Ozu often chooses to show a totally still locale right next to the active room. For example, there’s a sequence where the footwear of the elderly couple are shown, instead of themselves, struggling to get a night’s sleep.

Apart from cinematic details, TOKYO STORY is an unbelievably ‘good’ film where ‘goodness’ brims as much as the ironically cold laugh he laughs, its effects chilling us from head to toe. Particularly intriguing is the youngest child asking the daughter-in-law, “Why aren’t you mean like them?” to which she serenely responds, “It’s merely a matter of time…” Brilliance. Considering this film was conceived in 1953 where familial bonds were only on the verge of starting to deplete, I have to say that this film is not just ‘applicable’ to the present day, but rather ‘compulsory’. After all, one cannot ‘serve his parents beyond the grave…’