Friday, March 28, 2014

Goin' home

I went home for two weeks.

I landed at the airport, and stood outside waiting for my parents to pick me up. A car pulled up, with an older couple in the front, a dog at the back, clearly waiting for their offspring. It wasn't for me. Their son showed up and got into the car; they drove off, and my parents pulled up. For the first time since I left home, and came back to visit, the back seat was empty.

We reached home, and there was silence in the house. Excited voices chattering over each other, yes, but silence otherwise. No paws pattering (or slipping, as I used to perennially worry) on the marble floors. No deep sighs of exasperation when I got into arguments with the mother, or the brother when he showed up a week later.

I celebrated my birthday at home this year, and my parents brought out a cake and the camera and gifts at midnight. And my mother took a piece of cake and dropped it to the floor, in memory of the four-legged idiot who would go berserk on hearing the words "happy birthday" and would salivate and palpitate any time a cake was baked or cut at home, and would be the first one to be fed every time. And I looked the other way and pretended I didn't see.

We went out, and no one bothered closing the kitchen door to prevent someone from sneaking in. I did, out of habit. We came back home, and no one jumped off the sofa guiltily, or came pattering up with a wagging tail to greet me. I went down to the basement, to the father's office, and there was no one sprawled on the stairs, blocking my way. The brother went for a run every morning, but there was no one sighing patiently as he and I argued over whose turn it was to take her out.

Two days before leaving, I was sent to get the laundry, and I passed the father's white board, where he's put up post cards and magnets sent to him by his kids over the years. And next to them, was the release form he signed for her cremation, when she left us nine months ago. And I read it, and broke down. And bawled.

And I came back upstairs and my phone was playing music, and this song came on, and the silence in the house grew louder.

I went home for two weeks, and Kyra wasn't there to greet me, or sleep with her head on my feet, or eat my birthday cake, beg for food with those guilt-inducing eyes of hers, or make me go for a walk at least once a day. And the house felt so damn silent.

Monday, March 24, 2014

Of broken eggs and deleted posts

Sometimes you go to Whole Foods and accidentally drop a crate of eggs. And you pick up the crate and stand wondering what to do with it, and while you're standing there with yolk dripping on your fingers, a woman who's been glaring at you ever since it happened stops a Whole Foods employee and points him your way. And you keep apologizing, but he just laughs you off saying he drops eggs several times more than you do, and you don't feel so bad. And then you see the woman who was glaring at you look disappointed that you didn't have to burn in hell for what you did and you feel even better. And then you come home and type out a long FB update about the incident and the woman who wanted to see you pay for your sins but delete it without posting because you realize you have an overactive imagination and no one really cares.

And then you open Blogger and post it there instead because what is a blog for if not your overactive imagination that no one cares about.

Saturday, March 01, 2014

Thoughts I had while watching Highway

I think these are by and large in the sequence I had them, but some might not be, plus I'm pretty sure I've forgotten some.

I'm fairly certain this is pretty spoiler-free, but tread with caution?
  • Oh good the UTV dance. I still miss the fingers doing the rangoli thungummy though.
  • This Window Seat Films sketch is the cutest thingummy for a production house I've seen in a long time.
  • I've clearly spent too much time in Amreeka, because the opening montage in the movie is from the viewpoint of the driver's seat, and is absolutely gorgeous, yet all I could think was: that's... not the right side of the road.
  • Wow that fiance's a pansy. (Sidebar: you would think there would be a better video of that beautiful line available on YouTube. I am disappoint.)
  • Ugh creepy guy pretending to be nice and helpful ugh.
  • It's a good thing this movie has subtitles. Being from Gurgaon obviously hasn't done much for my Haryanvi comprehension skills.
  • Alia Bhatt has gorgeous hair. 
  • Ugh creepy guy ugh.
  • I'm very sure that scene was filmed on the main road near my home.
  • A review I read a few days ago talked about Veera - Alia's character - having a "secret from her past". I was bang on with my guess as to what that secret would be. 
  • The jump from being terrified of your kidnapper to confiding your biggest secret to him to dancing in the wind seemed too abrupt.
  • Can I bash the heads of these two idiots sitting in front of me? Maybe that'll get them to stop talking.
  • Where does the second kidnapper (Adooda? was that his name?) keep disappearing?
  • Excellent casting, I have to say. Adooda and Tonk, especially.
  • That dance scene - love how the entire hall erupted in laughter when the bhangra started.
  • India's quite beautiful, no?
  • On the other hand, the progression of emotions shown by Mahabir - Randeep Hooda's character - seemed far more natural.
  • I can't remember another movie where I watched actors cry so realistically. 
  • Okay I might need to stop my friend from punching these two idiots. But seriously, shut up. It's not your living room.
  • I'm not quite sure what's going on right now with this QSQT-like living in the mountains scenario. I like movies to have an identifiable end goal, and I'm not seeing one right now.
  • I'm not sure why I don't love Randeep Hooda. The man is gorgeous, can act, and does interesting movies. What exactly is it about him that doesn't stick?
  • Holy crap, I did not see that coming.
  • Wait, the movie's not over? What could they possibly do after that?
  • Ah okay, I see where this is going.
  • Huh. Okay, I can live with this ending. Not overly dramatic, and largely believable. 
I have to say, after watching Hasee toh Phasee two weeks ago, and now this movie, the question begs to be asked: was Student of the Year really the only option Siddharth Malhotra and Alia Bhatt had for their debut? They deserved so much better. Both can act, which I had suspected when I saw SOTY, but am convinced of after their subsequent movies.

Well done, Imitiaz Ali. I am inclined to forgive the hash that was Love Aaj Kal. I still don't plan to watch Rockstar, however.