9.26.2009

Tara, T, Alice, Buck.

"The United States of Tara has been written by Diablo Cody and produced by Steven Spielberg."

Immediate attention, that is exactly what this sentence deserved from my side. A few minutes later, I was scrolling through the wikipedia entry on the show and a week later, I had with me the whole of the first season. Five episodes down, the show has me hooked.

Shows based on psychology have always been a hot favourite of mine, but this is something different. Written with stinging wit and slightly profane humour, the show balls itself into one's heart. Tara has Dissociative Identity Disorder (better known as multiple personality disorder) which gives her different personalities or alter-egos in times of stress. While an almost negligible amount of audience would have encountered the disorder, Cody's thinking behind stringing together our modern life with DID is brilliant.

After all, how many of us have felt absolutely helpless in a situation, only to force a facet of us out to keep everything running smoothly? I'm guessing many. The transition between personalities is so effortless in the show, that you feel Tara could just be faking it for effect. But nothing about the characters seems staged in any manner. I honestly thought that Tara would be such a focal point of the show that the rest of her family would seem like props. At which point, the daughter-son duo showed in intricate detail the patience and trials of living life. This was matched perfectly by the husband, whose eyes seem to be the only indication of the anguish he at time feels.

The United States of Tara is an intelligent show to watch, acting like a two way mirror. You look at Tara's life from behind and slowly reflect on your own on the inside.

Signing Out,
Purple Brains

9.13.2009

Them Things They Call Fests

Overheard, read, gmail chatted during the times of our 'beloved' college institution, the Fest.

Before..
"Cancel the fest? Which idiot wants the fest cancelled?"
"Arre, no problem ma'am, aap tension mat lo"
"I love you! I love you! Marry me!"
"JJ. Phirse."
"MTM. Phirse."
"Koi paise dene koi ready hi nahi hai. Kaise se log hain. Main hi 5000 de deti hun."


During..
"Fest. Pest more like."
"Cancel this stupid fest!"
"I love you. Kill me please."
"Mujhe toh vella samjha hua hai naa?"
"Oh-My-God, yeh kya bakwaas hai?"
"Wake me up when september ends"
"Squeeze whatever is left out of me"
"Paise kiske paas hain? Koi paisa hi nahi deta! 5000 toh main de deti hun"
"Why on earth will i want to publicise only a damned debate when i have an entire page in a magazine??!!!"
"JYOTI!"
"YOGI!"
"Main nahaa sakti hun?"
"Photoshop, aur kya?/Media lab, aur kahan?"


After..
"Yeh kya bakwaas hai. Agle saal se hum kuch nahi karenge"
"Saara kaam maine kiya tha."
"Uffo. I want to die!"
"Par kitna mazaa aaya tha naa?"

Inputs from me and my friends from both IP College and Kamala Nehru College. May MTM and JJ both be roaring successes. Or something like that.

Signing Out,
Stupid Fests

9.05.2009

Bittersweet Memories - II

As said by Aldous Huxley,

"One of the principal functions of a friend is to suffer (in a milder and more symbolic form) the punishments that we should like, but are unable, to inflict upon our enemies."

I love my college friends, but I now know that it is simply impossible for me to put up with all of them five days in a row. I'm sure they feel the same. To worsen things, six of us were crammed in one room. We had our good times talking about ghosts and watching fat people vibrate on TV. We had our laughs over certain style statements attempted and thwarted. We screamed and shouted our lungs out sometimes with happiness and other times with a deep hatred. We even fought over the bathroom and the beds. Among all of this, I see the truth behind being us. We adore each other in a way that others can't quite understand.

This is a friendship quite undefinable. We're there for each other, you know. Just there. Like it was meant for us to be. It took us five days in a bus to know that.

And also, Hotel Asia The Dawn SUCKS! Do not go there, unless you plan to stay inside the hotel only for the food. Somehow, the food was quite delicious.

Signing Out,
Remembering Shimla.

Bittersweet Memories - I

Shimla came as a surprise to me. With all my hopes and expectations, it still managed to change a lot of things. Things I've forever taken for granted in a way. It felt like the hesitant shock one manages when their elderly neighbour, known yet a stranger in many ways, dies one summer morning. It's been difficult to accept what all has changed, but with the memories I work my way through.

To start with, the planned part of the trip was pretty much crap, which spoke volumes about how much we have started to crave being able to make our own decisions. The one time we left the hotel without any supervision, did we have the most fun. Wandering about Himachal University, the misty lanes gave the campus a very other wordly feel.

I was pretty much ready to stay there and possibly come back for my PG. The one thing I noticed first off was that it is more inviting than any other campus area I've been to. Maybe it was the sweet people or the wonderful gravelly paths crunching away in my ear. Trees rose out of nowhere from the surrounding rocks to cast twisted shadows on a sundial. A crest of arms sparkled in the little patch of sunlight, while birds bravely struck up their morning banter to entertain us. Rocky outcrops and secluded stairwells created the most romantic melancholy I have known. Painting a melody of enchanting visuals, every nook and cranny of the rolling hills, including that murderous-suicidal cow has me hooked on forever. In a way, I promised to come back and I shall fulfill it soon. It's only during the impromptu trek that we undertook did I realize I would not survive the walking that Shimla required from its admirers.

Mall Road is like an inky drawing on a roughly hewn canvas. Emotions and memories have spilled over and the lines between friends and enemies have been blurred. I fear that boundaries that we had maintained so carefully have been lost between the small blurry motions of the hand. Is it possible that one little market could have changed everything? For now, the answer is yes.

(Contd.)