Wayside flowers

The flower i got from wayside, colour-photocopied... Thanks to the friend who left his colour pencils in my room.

Seasons of change

It was not mere the picturesque posters by the wayside which caught my eyeballs to the movie 'Ritu', but the memories of my orkut life(once i lived there in a hut, but now i just often visit, or to be precise,just make a glimpse of it at times).Josh(Joshua Newtonn) was always there with the updates of his developing story and movie shoot. I never took it that serious or I never felt such a beautiful work would evolve out from it. The same caused a shock-wave of elation when I could clearly locate his name under the title, 'story:'. I remember, the evening sun stood bright up ahead as if evolved from the movie poster. I shouldn't deny, the poster was damn beautiful.

Thank you Josh, Thank you Shyamaprasad, in breaking the conventionally followed frames of malayalam cinema.

Its amateurs who built the ark,and professionals the titanic. Varsha(Rima), Sarat Varma(Nishan) and Sunny John(Asif) are of-course the right choice for their characters. Let me not limit it to those three, many more of the thespians were not bad preference for their roles. The way they embodied the characters made difference.

Varsha was not the same 'big eyed simpering idiot with all squeaky wails and cries*' as happening in typical malayalam cinemas(*the definition given by my friend, well known among bloggers as mikimbizi). Dubbing artist Bhagyalekshmi is probably (un)lucky to make another replica of the heroines of past.

Hari Varma(M.G Sasi) was different from the characters I had met at communist party offices during my college days(when i'd a bit of political activity). The rooms were more of a go-down with flags, flag sticks and blood red hangings. Che and Bhagat Singh stood high inside framed pieces of glass as if they were the founder members of the communist party(pardon me respected souls, its the way they think of you, they wanted your soulful eyes to (mis)lead people).There were people who slept on narrow benches in a rickety building of the party office conglomerate.These people spent their days talking about the increasing membership funds of their party and other seemingly ethical things. I could rarely find shaven faces among them. Better I use the word, Che Guevara worshipers as stated by dear friend mikimbizi. "Democracy, an arrangement for convenience'" is thus a thoughtful piece of speech.

Thank you Zero(Manoj Abru) for forwarding me the mail, 'Guess a letter for Sarat'. Mr. Ayyappan has created a saga with his reviews of multifaceted vista, and obviously this forms another.( http://entertainment.expressbuzz.com/entertainment/Entertainstory.aspx?Title=A+letter+of+disquiet&artid=7vnArU0hF6M=&SectionID=TPEu9LXF3Wk=&MainSectionID=TPEu9LXF3Wk=&SectionName=H6Lz7EG5SyQeO7G0FyybQg==&SEO=).The mail and review formed another strong reason which prompted me to make another drive to the movie house. this time I could see it from both the angles. the experience was too exciting that I even thought of watching it a couple of times more to find the third angle of mine(this contains my envy to Mr.Ayyappan).But at times I felt like standing for Sarat Varma, for I felt a hare of my self in him. Could not hesitate when he poked out the socialistic and liberal thoughts in me.

As an ardent lover of the visual art world, I would appreciate the daring achievement of Team Ritu in twists and turns within the circle of commercial cinema i never believe in such a distinction of commercial and art cinema, but it is really disgusting when malayalam movies which claim to be screened at festivals round the globe are just clones of the previous.My most recent experience of Randu Pennum Oraanum stands proof as I couldn't find it different from Nalu pennungal.

The witty phrases and dialogues, "nammudeyullil nammal ariyathe thanne etrayo nammal" takes a dive into the multidimensional aspects of human mind, known or unknown to the self. I remember my friend's piece of thought comparing earth's inner as human mind, with volcanoes lashing searching a tiny crack to vent out the pressure.

Something I should never omit should be about the cinematography. There is no wonder when Josh himself is a photojournalist, i am his views and frames might have influenced the cinematographer. My fingers had ached typing wows on the snaps he clicked and displayed in orkut. Thank you Shamdat for that feast.

"Anubhavam vakkine theevramakkunnu: Experience intensifies words" I don't know how much intensified my words are. I wish to write more..And we are all waiting for the change of seasons, nah, the seasons of change.

after the unpublished...

I dared to write this out even when my last scribbling remains unpublished.Things need not be publicized in the same order it happens.Back on the edges of insanity, nah !! sanity, nah !! in a plasma of both.

After a very long time, I spent a few hours in orkut, viewing albums of my highly witted/halfway insane(either of it suits) friends.This was something I wanted to do for long....Changed the title in my profile as ' de socialized loner'.It was the mere escapism I started showing these days which prompted me.To escape from the online 'hi's(I remember, I had spent lot nights chatting), to believe that I never received a text message even when my cell produced beeps frequently, to remain silent whenever i made outings with my boss and colleagues..Once I had stated this as 'chronic melancholia'.Now I fail to make a judgment.

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Sorry, I dozed off in between.The dinner was heavy with the homely delicacies, pavaykka theeyal, karimeen varuthathu and uppumanga.The orkut profiles still open before me. Closed the tabs one by one.....

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Dozed off again..I badly need to hit the bed.

Do skies blush?

" I sat beside the skies,
grey, yellow, amber and red.
Melancholic moods...

The birds flushed away by wind
The squeaky sounds follow me.

Silent trees in black.
Are they lifeless?

I am the lost soul..."

Well, the title has no connection with these unworthy lines.The title is a question for you.Do skies blush? I have never seen.

Anxieties of a recession blogger

Its not at all controversial that the counter at blogspot and the other blog servers are working hard this recession, as many bloggers round the globe are getting enough time to spout their frustrations, being jobless.Not just being jobless, but being haunted by the monotonous emotions .The most interesting thing is that many including me were raised into ‘blogger’ status.The “recession bloggers”, hereafter known 'rbs'.

‘The rbs wrote about their boring days.’Pin to piano’ of their chaotically set room(once these rbs worked upto 12 hours a day and seven days a week, but now they are too lazy that they enjoy the spider weaving webs on their body).The rbs wrote how they turned nocturnal.They wrote about the bugging characters around.They kept writing until they felt their writings monotonous.Paused, and turned the diary pages back to past inorder to find the scribbling about a fantasy filled dream.Ha !! Some of the rbs’ friends felt sorry for them.They told, the rbs were turning into pure narcissists and cynics.The rbs never denied. They wished, they could give a million lashes to the corporate and society rules. Whenever the electricity board turned the power off without prior notice, the rbs thought of buying AK 47s to shoot the officials, but they were financially too weak even to buy a toy gun.’

Recently I realized without much pain. My mobile had only those poems recited against the perverted social setup.Everyday I scroll through the daily with hope.I’m not wondered.It just have the same filthy politics and news about the greatest economic shrink after worldwar-II.I wish to write till the last pulse of thought passes my neurons.Let me remain hopeful until the next mood swing takes me away.

The sinner

He is the accused
For he betrayed his soul,
For he wore the mask of civility
Closing eyes..speaking loud,
He deceived himself

Cowardous of hard realizations,
He dozed off
And woke upto absolute blankness

Accumulating fears
Contemptible justifications
He is the accused, nah !!
The sinner.

Before the sinner was executed, he burnt himself into ashes; not jus to save his ego, but a whole hearted confession.

starving..

Was about to write on the sequential nightmares which have been shocking me for past two days.But after reading some hypocritical and sarcastic blogs by a group of fetishists, I felt my soul starving. Starving of conscience.