Growing older is hitting closer home. An old school friend recently got married and I got pwnd as the loved one says. I found out through Facebook that AB has been tagged in an album named ‘Wedding.’ So I click on it because I love to see wedding pictures of people I have no idea exist and don’t care they do, when suddenly I see that old gummy smile, and those twinkling eyes winking cheekily at me. AB was married a couple days ago and I found out through Facebook. Imagine that. I have become a social victim of the internet.
AB is younger than me by a few months and I have always thought of him as the House Captain with the epaulets that would stick out on his shoulders and make him look like a Star Fleet officer. But now that our AB is married, reality is sinking in even faster. I am soon to be 25, I am soon going to be officially in a place where I can’t depend on my dad for getting the car serviced, or expect my mom to cook dal for me. I have to start caring for other people; I am soon going to be a care giver. Shudder. The word ‘care giver’ reminds me of pristine, white gleaming hospitals.
A favorite childhood AB memory of mine is when we got dressed in our best Indian clothes to go for an Independence Day Dance at the Naval Club. And soon we were boogying the night away to ‘Cecilia,’ and ‘Macarena,’ and I remember our two left feet dance: Jump to the left, hop to the right, do a mini pelvic thrust…or do what AB does…stomp the ground with each foot. Stomp stomp in perfect rhythm goes one foot, stomp stomp goes the other.
Another time, I was asked to play the harmonium during the school assembly. As I struggled to lead the totally disinterested Class 7 choir into the nasal bars of Daya Kara Daan, there he was: AB. Smiling and encouraging so that I don’t forget the chords. Just the night before, he had painstakingly taught me all the chords and keys of the school songs.
This is how it feels when my childhood actually feels like it has ended. Empty. And yet, happy. And grateful. Look how far we’ve come.
Good luck, and many congratulations, AB!
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Monday, August 03, 2009
Reel Life - Real Life
I am quite certain I have seen a fair amount of Life. I have seen births, deaths, love affairs, flings, break ups, divorce, being jailed (not me, please. it's too early.), being sued (not me, please. it's too early)., cheating, disappointment, happiness, debt. And of course, there are film parallels for every experience. after all, all life, like all literature, and all pop culture, is based on one meta narrative, one meta text. Everything is but a derivation.
Remember the scene from the Dead Poet's Society where all the boys stand up on their desks and speak out 'Captain, oh my Captain!' and Robin Williams smiles, salutes them and walks out of the classroom? In Class 7, my English teacher Mrs B on her last day at the school , tells everyone 'girls, I am going. you were a noisy lot.' and as she walks out, all of us break into spontaneous 'yayyyyyys.' not as inspiring, but the collective relief felt was real.
Another time, when the Man I Thought I Loved Forever decided that he wanted out, and as I broke down, in my pretty little house in Hyderabad, I was channeling all those movies dealing with relationships and giving up on people. not the best experience in life. There is a scene in keeping the faith, where Ben Stiller says Jenna Elfman does not understand his religion and it's a sad thing because it's a part of him and Elfman counters she loves him because of his devotion to his spirituality. It's what makes him. Two people saying the same thing, but unable to understand each other.
In Nostalghia, in what is the longest scene without any cuts in the history of film making, Oleg Yankovsky crosses the river bed with a flickering candle. if the candle goes out, he must do it all over again. The scene was 8 minutes and 45 seconds long, and it sums up the 8 days I spent sick with a viral fever of 104, worrying about my dad who was getting open heart surgery in Apollo Chennai. Never again will I put myself up to such waiting and watching.
During my years as a teaching assistant at Akanksha, I saw kids bruised and yet getting up, kids who were 15 and could not sign their own names, and yet were willing to learn from scratch. On a particularly bright afternoon, we were in the junior classroom, shut all the doors, and we danced around and around and around to 'sunshiney day.' Just like how Mary Poppins sang a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down! Just like Maria and the children chasing the clouds in the mountains of Austria and shouting/singing fa, a long long way to run!
When I was in school in Visakhapatnam, I went on a trek to Dolphin's Nose with school friends. It was our version of a road trip, because although for a day, and on foot, we bonded and laughed and jumped into the water. It was our version of going to Whitecastle, complete with the dirty toilet humor. but glucose powder replacing coke. For the longest time, Harold and Kumar were the boys I wanted to date.
And as I am writing this, I feel like Kane, recounting my life's experiences. I just wonder which is the rosebud I will call out for.
Remember the scene from the Dead Poet's Society where all the boys stand up on their desks and speak out 'Captain, oh my Captain!' and Robin Williams smiles, salutes them and walks out of the classroom? In Class 7, my English teacher Mrs B on her last day at the school , tells everyone 'girls, I am going. you were a noisy lot.' and as she walks out, all of us break into spontaneous 'yayyyyyys.' not as inspiring, but the collective relief felt was real.
Another time, when the Man I Thought I Loved Forever decided that he wanted out, and as I broke down, in my pretty little house in Hyderabad, I was channeling all those movies dealing with relationships and giving up on people. not the best experience in life. There is a scene in keeping the faith, where Ben Stiller says Jenna Elfman does not understand his religion and it's a sad thing because it's a part of him and Elfman counters she loves him because of his devotion to his spirituality. It's what makes him. Two people saying the same thing, but unable to understand each other.
In Nostalghia, in what is the longest scene without any cuts in the history of film making, Oleg Yankovsky crosses the river bed with a flickering candle. if the candle goes out, he must do it all over again. The scene was 8 minutes and 45 seconds long, and it sums up the 8 days I spent sick with a viral fever of 104, worrying about my dad who was getting open heart surgery in Apollo Chennai. Never again will I put myself up to such waiting and watching.
During my years as a teaching assistant at Akanksha, I saw kids bruised and yet getting up, kids who were 15 and could not sign their own names, and yet were willing to learn from scratch. On a particularly bright afternoon, we were in the junior classroom, shut all the doors, and we danced around and around and around to 'sunshiney day.' Just like how Mary Poppins sang a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down! Just like Maria and the children chasing the clouds in the mountains of Austria and shouting/singing fa, a long long way to run!
When I was in school in Visakhapatnam, I went on a trek to Dolphin's Nose with school friends. It was our version of a road trip, because although for a day, and on foot, we bonded and laughed and jumped into the water. It was our version of going to Whitecastle, complete with the dirty toilet humor. but glucose powder replacing coke. For the longest time, Harold and Kumar were the boys I wanted to date.
And as I am writing this, I feel like Kane, recounting my life's experiences. I just wonder which is the rosebud I will call out for.
Friday, July 31, 2009
What Does It Feel Like?
I am really hoping that turning 25 is really like having your first kiss. You know, with the build up that has all these butterflies in your stomach, and you hoping 'the deed' will take place in a very romantic setting with violins and white doves flying to create a heart shaped border above your heads and the sound of the ocean in your ears as you move closer to complete said action. And then it's over, with nothing to show for it, and you go home with a little disappointment thinking 'that's it??'
But then, that's just one side to it. I am hoping that turning 25 is also a bit like your first day of college, where you had to travel all the way to VT by BEST bus, all by yourself, get off at the wrong bus stop and then walk from Fountain to St Xavier’s College with a need to throw up due to Fear and Excitement, the two characters that always play such a major role in this movie called The Life of a Totally Moronic Person. Produced by Tanushree Baruah, Directed by Anon. (He is one of those French New Wave directors who never follows the script and always ends up going over budget. A bane to producers.) So anyway, Fear looks at Excitement and says: 'You're still here?' And Excitement replies: 'No no, you are the all powerful one,' and then proceeds to make a quick exit. By this time, you are hopelessly lost, with no mobile phone to call daddy and wail about the scheme of things, and then you see some people dressed in jeans and t-shirts and you follow them blindly, and almost cry with Joy (one of the difficult to retain characters on-screen, her schedules are tight and need to be carefully coordinated with her agent) when you see the old stone building and the sign in Marathi: Sant Jhavierjh Kawlejh. You flash your brand new ID card at a guard who funnily enough want to check it thoroughly, gives you a glare as if to say 'I know you are going to grow weed behind the boys hostel but welcome anyway' and then you, still following the crowd, enter the first quadrangle and instead of going along with the girls wearing the identical cleavage revealing blouses, but with full-sleeves and in different colors to what looks like the washroom, I look to my right and spy one of the most beautiful staircase leading somewhere upstairs. As I walk away, and let my hand touch the banister, I have a flash of the future - this might be what turning 25 feels like. And then we climb, fear, excitement and joy, all leading the way to lecture room 56 A.
Or, the one time when I was stuck in an Andheri traffic jam, surrounded by drivers who blamed each other for their traffic woes and I had to receive The First Ever Job Offer while being assaulted - verbally and via audio. 'Congratulations!' the HR person from Hyderabad was screeching into the receiver, G is happy to make you an offer!' while a heated exchange of 'behenchod madarchod' was taking place between my auto driver and the auto three cars ahead of him. When I saw the G flash, everything went quiet, the frame was now in slow motion, the focus was on me, and the extras, drivers and vehicles alike, blurred in the distance. everything was surreal, and I swear I could see the sun become the moon and descend to earth and hang by a silver thread all the while ants, in their dot like black bodies swarmed the now descended upon earth sun turned moon. Maybe this is how I will feel when the clock strikes 12 to welcome August 5.
But then, that's just one side to it. I am hoping that turning 25 is also a bit like your first day of college, where you had to travel all the way to VT by BEST bus, all by yourself, get off at the wrong bus stop and then walk from Fountain to St Xavier’s College with a need to throw up due to Fear and Excitement, the two characters that always play such a major role in this movie called The Life of a Totally Moronic Person. Produced by Tanushree Baruah, Directed by Anon. (He is one of those French New Wave directors who never follows the script and always ends up going over budget. A bane to producers.) So anyway, Fear looks at Excitement and says: 'You're still here?' And Excitement replies: 'No no, you are the all powerful one,' and then proceeds to make a quick exit. By this time, you are hopelessly lost, with no mobile phone to call daddy and wail about the scheme of things, and then you see some people dressed in jeans and t-shirts and you follow them blindly, and almost cry with Joy (one of the difficult to retain characters on-screen, her schedules are tight and need to be carefully coordinated with her agent) when you see the old stone building and the sign in Marathi: Sant Jhavierjh Kawlejh. You flash your brand new ID card at a guard who funnily enough want to check it thoroughly, gives you a glare as if to say 'I know you are going to grow weed behind the boys hostel but welcome anyway' and then you, still following the crowd, enter the first quadrangle and instead of going along with the girls wearing the identical cleavage revealing blouses, but with full-sleeves and in different colors to what looks like the washroom, I look to my right and spy one of the most beautiful staircase leading somewhere upstairs. As I walk away, and let my hand touch the banister, I have a flash of the future - this might be what turning 25 feels like. And then we climb, fear, excitement and joy, all leading the way to lecture room 56 A.
Or, the one time when I was stuck in an Andheri traffic jam, surrounded by drivers who blamed each other for their traffic woes and I had to receive The First Ever Job Offer while being assaulted - verbally and via audio. 'Congratulations!' the HR person from Hyderabad was screeching into the receiver, G is happy to make you an offer!' while a heated exchange of 'behenchod madarchod' was taking place between my auto driver and the auto three cars ahead of him. When I saw the G flash, everything went quiet, the frame was now in slow motion, the focus was on me, and the extras, drivers and vehicles alike, blurred in the distance. everything was surreal, and I swear I could see the sun become the moon and descend to earth and hang by a silver thread all the while ants, in their dot like black bodies swarmed the now descended upon earth sun turned moon. Maybe this is how I will feel when the clock strikes 12 to welcome August 5.
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