Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Wednesday late morning in New Delhi. Not fun. Nothing looks pretty here, or even interesting. The buildings are new, dilapidated and unwelcoming. The people are arrogant and intimidating if not outrightly dangerous. Nothing around me is happy except Feist. Even Elliot Smith sounds like he's singing his last few words. and right outside the window I can see dragon flies whizzing around, reminding me of the freedom i no longer have.

I had been mourning the unexpected death of my best friend (she lives on in someone I don't know anymore so the only way I can deal with it is to pretend she simply doesn't exist.) all this while but it just struck me that its probably for the best that she's not around. She and a couple of others I no longer have the same kind of access to, for various reasons that are beyond my control. They'd made my life too comfortable I guess for anything constructive to happen to me. I was too happy around them and discomfort is the only thing that will yank me out of the cocoon I've been building around my myself all these wretched years.

The last two paragraphs were the outcome of a particularly bad day, thats all. My life isn't that bad, really. In, fact I have very little to complain about and thats probably why I crib so much in the first place. People with real problems are way more mature in the way they deal with them, I'm sure.

I am back in Phuket, this time with Studmuffin and his family; apparently their first family outing in many years. I have nothing else to write about this one. 

Everyone has been a little maniacal about Slumdog Millionaire for some reason. I am yet to meet someone who liked the movie without having any silly reservations. Most people did not like it for one or more of the following reasons:

1. "It showed the real India." - What the hell is wrong with that? Danny Boyle or any self-respecting director will obviously not be interested in doing an (politically or otherwise) orchestrated India Shining Campaign. The point of the movie was not to showcase India to the rest of the world. It was, simply to tell the story of a slum boy. Thats what movies are made for: to tell extraordinary stories of ordinary people.

2. "It did not show the real India"- Of course not. Child prostitution and slum dwelling are only figments of western imagination, as are child labor and street begging rackets! Besides, its best left for Premchand to write about. Danny Boyle should stick to James Bond.

3. "It was so gross. Where was Shah Rukh and who the hell is Irfan?"- This was the reaction from all those people who liked DTPH and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. There are just so many of them in the world: its nauseating!

4. "What was so great about it anyway?"- Jesus! Its a goddamn movie. Like it or leave it. Why all the fuss? Whether or not anyone knew what political party they were gonna vote for, it was socially imperative for everyone to have an opinion on Slumdog Millionaire. If you hadn't watched it you were making a mistake BUT it wasn't really much to speak of. ( I am tempted to say "Bloody Delhiites!") 

Anyway, enough nonsense for the day. My eyes and fingers are beginning to complain now. 
Goodnight all.