And you know it

And you know it before  you see it

Yes,I am referrig to our typical Indian movies.Most INdian movies evovle around the concept of love at first sight.Almost in every movie we have a hero meeting the heroine in an unexpected scene and with the exchange of a glance they are in love.Excuse me?Do they even know each other?Have they any clue if the other is married?BUT [irrespective of all our doubts and queries] they fall in love,because that's what is expected,followed by a series of songs where the hero runs behind the heroine among the trees or you have the heroine destroying the sand castle built by the hero and then the hero chasing his love on the beach.Ofcourse all these scenes come to a sudden halt when the girl's family finds out about her love.And then we have to watch the problematic fmaily of the girls' going against the concept of accepting the hero.

99% of the movies will have the the girl's family portrayed as filthy rich and the hero from a lower income family.By then the rich dad has his daughter's marriage fixed to the son of his business partner which is again a politics ie, marriage for money or a smooth flow of business or perhaps a matter of prestige issue.The movie then is not to be expected much from as we all know that either the hero makes a dramatic entry on the day of the wedding or we have stunts with the heroine's finace.Not to mention the depresion following the state of fear where the hero loses hope of marrying the heroine ,by consuming liquor in large quantities to exhibit his masculanity and then barging into the then heroine's finance's house and claming for his love. ;)

If the movie doesn't take a twist of this kind then we have another case where the heroine's father sends men to kill his daughter's love(how inhumanely!!!)and then you have the daughter too suicidng eventually.Now all this happens if the concept is love at first sight.If not, then we have a hero who hires men to cause nuisance to the heroine on her way to college and the hero junping from nowhere into the scene to rescue her from the roadside romeos and impress her.So you have the girl impressed but she isn't in love with him.Shae says a thanks and walks away.BUt like every movie where falling in love has become a necessity, scenes are introduced to ensure they somehow fall for one another.ANd definetly,we have even another exclusive category of movies where the hero goes head over heels for the heroine in the first glance but the reluctant and least bothered heroine isn't really concernd about the hero's existence.Then follows a sequence of scenes where the hero makes desperate attempts to unravel the residential address of the heroine only to relaise at the end of the movie she stayed next door!!!!(so check out whose ur neighbour..lest shud you miss any hunks/chics residing in your next flat!)

Another category of sentimental romance movies arise from the ending where the hero doesn't end up with the heroine,leading to excessive exercise to the tear glands of audiences and therby attaining the name of "really touching movie" and a hit at the box office.Almost every movie follows the same pattern in some way or the other.just with an alteration in dialogue to outsmart audiences like us.

We have a lot too mnay problems with INdian movies considering the fact only obstacles faced by the hero and heroine before marriage is only shot and at the end of the movie they marry,credits roll up and the lights in the theatres are turned on:Movie Over.( "They lived happily ever after"knock! knock! problems arise after marrigae.whose there to shoot issues on that? ) And of course INdian movies don't have intimate scenes as such (not like i am keenly interetsd in watching them but I am pointing out a drawback in comparison in english movies) except for songs where the location is a pub and we have scanty clothed damsels moving their hips(which is not an intimate scene but considered politically inappropriate for the display to indian population).But now hindi movies do exhibit a lot of kissing scenes(leaving youngsters no scope to watch a movie in peace fearing the abrupt entry of an adult into the room since kissing is so casual-shot without prior warning to change channel)after the emergence of Emran HAshmi who set the trend in.South Indian movies still haven't progressed much in that category either.ONe kissing scene and that's the commotion for the movie to be rated as 18+.Yet not wanting to lag behind,the scenes are shown but mostly it is two shadows moving closer and then the vision is blurred (how disappointing! :P)
So now you know how every movie begins and ends.Next time you make plans to go for a movie,glance a thought at this article by a very keen observer of Indian movies as myself and spare the ticket+popcorn expenses for shopping!

Broken Promise

Broken BY the Broken Promise          

           ~ A sincere dedication to my pals - Ann & Asha  ~Soaked in tears of agony I tried to come in terms that I was once again left to fight alone.Broken by the broken promise I writhed in pain,buried by sorrow and mercilessly stabbed by the dagger of love.                          I sat all night                          Trying to think it right                           I knew it was wrong                          Yet wanted to think about it for long.Memories,like the fallen leaves of autumn awaiting the wind,were washed by the bitter tears gushing from my eyes as it were an immortal spring.Regret sprinkled upon reality as I battled to blur the visibilty of my question on the insignificant role I played in his life.Struggling to believe the delusion that I am fine,deliberate I was fooling myself,dejected by his words,I was compelled to conclude LOVE-AN ILLUSION.                         Wanted to forgive him through a kiss                         And make our life a bliss                         Yet somwhere deep down                        Acceptance had already been sown.Smile-a ruse I had to be constantly reminded of,his return-yet a hope I desperately clinged to,his voice-a signature tone of my life now kissed a silent death by the snowflakes of his silhouette,I let  a tear escape knowing that holding them back wouldn't aid in them vanishing.                       I would recite myself strong                       And drown again into thoughts                       Which instead I should have fought                      But cried again and proved myself wrong.Meaningless was my presence in his life,wrath feeling the zenith,soaring was my hatred but I tell youWHEN I SAID " I HATE YOU " I DIDN'T MEAN IT JUST LIKE HOW YOU DIDN'T MEAN WHEN  YOU MADE PROMISES. 

Quotes

Quotes -Disastrous fantasies of Romance-I
  Here I present A small set of my thoughts in the form of quotes.A pure and sincere dedication to my neighbour-cum-friend-cum sister,Mary Miranda- who inspired me to pen down my imagination.  

• A feeling of affection for someone,so rare,so strange and yet so mysterious-that somebody decided to name this unique feeling LOVE and not long ago had I realised without any question of suspicion that I had fallen a victim to this mystique.

 

• LOve and MOney are two-one must never rely on.They betray you when you most need them.

 

• Stumbling accidently upon something FORTUNATE is how I would describe our first meeting.

• Relationship is like a handful of sand,the more ur fists tighten easier does the sand slip away.

 

• If I were ever to repay you for the pain you caused me..This lifetime would have seemed INSUFFICIENT.

 

• It took her an entire life to realise"..And the prince and the princess lived happily everafter" was only a mere illusion in REALITY.

 

• Eventually I realised,I had been transformed into a PRISONER OF HIS LOVE.I accepted my captivity of his warmth around me with immense glory.

 

• I cry when I miss you because then I see your face in the reflection of my tears.

 

• Hell spat a thunderous ligthening that split us apart forever and I felt the shattered crystals of my life pricking me.The sky growled and roared like nature had borrowed my feelings.

 

• Never did I take my tear-flooded eyes that blurred my vision away from the spot you had disappeared, but continued waiting for you with beaming hope.

 

• Every time you hurt me,you hoped to heal me with a five letter word S-O-R-R-Y. Yet I said nothing but forced a smile in response hiding the piercing pain of bleeding heart.

 

• Tired of crying,so I try to hate you,so I may forget you-to let your charming face fade away,to let our dreams of "being together" die,to stab any thought that remind me of you,to smile because I know I am dying deep inside.

.

• Regret shadows me in the world of SINGLEDOM..

 

• He was born angelic, but ended his life the devilish way, continuing to haunt women by infecting innocent hearts pleading salvation.He has turned every life a victim of his blessed curse. And yet people continue to belive in L.O.V.E

 

• Beneath every layer of regret,lies my SECRET DESIRE to play the role of his heroine once again.

 

• When DESIRE dominated me,I gave up the temptation to admire you from a distance and so UNLOCKED the doors leading you into my life.

 

• Breaking into a fight and wearing the outraged mask of hatred -was my way to bury the burning desire to get you all for MYSELF.

 

• How could you balme me for your heartbreak,when I was only trying to make you realise the pain you gave me was much more worse?

 

• Blank beneath the title - "HOW TO HANDLE"  yet tagged with a warning label-"HANDLE WITH CARE" is what some passerby said was "LOVE".

 

• Desiring for something you don't deserve is what I concluded when you left me.

 

• I set aside my likes  for him

          I set aside my time   for him          I set aside my life    for him                          &          he set aside   "  ME  "  for someone else.  
     

Without you

I will forget..I promise to forget everything for you.The dreams we saw together,the moments we hsared,the secrets you whispered-anything and evrything.I will let it fade from my heart..like a forgotten fairy tale-for THE HERO OF MY INCOMPLETE LOVE STORY,I will forget evrything because that's all I can do for you.You wre the light of my life and my eyes can sense only darkness since you abandoned me,what for wa it ? ? I still don't know.
Every time you hurt me,you hoped to heal with a five letter word
"S-O-R-R-Y".Yet I said nothing but forced a smile in reply hiding the piercing pain of bleeding heart.the pain only getting unbearbale,the wound stays unhealed,memories like a stain continue to chase my life.Yet my love for you is still the same.Everything around me reminds me of you-of the days when I used to scribble your name everywhere,of the moments we shared-how much I value those priceless moments ,I fail to explain to you.
I shut my eyes and I see you talking to me,I fear that I may lose and each time I try to touch you,to feel you,you seem to move farther when I step closer.Yet my broken heart continues to beat for you.Tired of crying so I try to hate you,so I may forget you-to let your charming face fade away,to let our dreams of "being together"die,to stab any thought that reminds me of you,to smile because I know I am dying deep inside.But all my attepts failed and I feel like a failure before your ETERNAL LOVE for me.I try to conside everything as a bad dream or perhaps hope someday you would come upto me only to say " baby , it was only a joke , donchu still love me? "
Wonchu come?? I will wait.Wait till you come.Wait for your return.And I have been waiting since so many lives.The lonely shores are the witness.The stealthily blowing wind knows about it.The stars are the witness..and so are the lonely shores and now that I have revealed it to you..you too know about my longing to see you again..
Many Many Happy Returns of the Day Dedicating this work to Asad Siddique
There was a time when birthdays weren't known to me, a time when the bursting of balloons,flash of camera or the singing of the birthday song in chorus made me look around with bulging eyes till my lips turned into an unpleasant curve-a pout, followed by my loud cry. That, was my first birthday. 2nd birthday should have been similar because I don't recollect anything differently either.
With time passing, I realised , the singing chorus was a happy event unlike my belief of having concluded it was a mass yelling directed at me,camera flash was nothing to fear but a mirror that showed me cutting cake and opening gifts, and bursting of balloons happened only when someone squeezed or stepped on it.
Birthdays in the later years, was a long awaited event. The idea of being the centre of attention for the day excited me heavily. However, concentrating on the cakecutting and playing games made me impatient with my eyes stealthily glancing at the growing pile of gifts and flashy wrappers.
A time approached my mindset of 'awaiting' birthdays when teen years struck me with the fantasy of its own. Pangs of desire to be frozen to eternity in the youthful phase of life pricked me as my days of buying soaps and creams promising to replenish fairness and beauty filed my drawers.
As I write this, I see myself on the threshold of adulthood, a long journey of battle ahead awaits me, wanting to see how I would face the unexpected twists and turns of life. Birthdays will then be nothing but a day to shun away from the ritual of being enquired one's age. Gradually the uninvited guest will walk into my life -Oldage.


Memory would fade, days would drag, reltaionships would be a name, living - a pain. Sooner, there will come a time when my birthday will be known to none and then I will close my eyes to eternity celebrating my....

.........................................................re-BIRTH

That's mischievious me!

That's mischievious myself! 

  October 12th marks my 17th birthday and I hesitate to speak about my age.Ofcourse, no girl would like turning old.It is either the wish to remain in her ravishing and heart throbbing teen years or the want to be a kid again.Years have gone by and I plead to return to them.Those were the years I would call-a cocktail of innocence,mischief,play and so much more.Mischief ?? Did I say that ? Well,deduce the first 4 years where my memories were blurred and the next 4 years when I was in India where my parents were always stopped from hitting me by my saviours-grand parents,uncles,aunts or any adult for that matter.That makes it to 9 years of adventurous Tom and Jerry play with my mom.Why 9 years?The play has not come to a halt even now except for the new improvised version where the cane has lost its role in this drama.In those days, the moment I realise mom's temperature rising,(I bet it would blast the thermometer,)I look for various means to escape.Tuition?Dance class?Or is it drawing?No time to spare!Flee!!Mom rushes to the kitchen to take the cane which she carefully treasure beside the cabin just above the oven because she knows no matter how hard I try,I wouldn't reach there in an attempt to hide the cane in her absence.There is never a day when the cane is allowed to rest in the cozy place offered.The cane had been so overused that splinters stand from its end.At times my wicked mind wouldn't fail to give a thought on those splinters piercing my mum's fingers and she rushing in search of bandage rather than chase me.I may not be well in sports but at those  crucial moemts all I remember is wearing slippers as  a preparation to run and  flee at supersonic speed to vanish in a jiff to my neighbour's house who apparantly happens to be my aunt,seeking refuge.Sympathising this poor refugee,my aunt whom my mum believes is the source for my spoilt nature would comfort me and assure mom that I woudnt attempt on any more mischief.Wearing an outraged mask,my aunt would question me before my mum,"will you do that again?"I would stare at the transformation in her mood  and nod my head uttering a valueless "no" which is purely inaudible.Few months later,my aunt flew to her native place for her first delivery.When she returned,I went to meet her baby and her,but  was never comfortable at her place like before all because I wasn't willing to share the attention I recieved at her house long before,with her baby!!My visits to her house shrunk,gradually.Soon,I found a new place to hide.My very own sweet washroom!Dad had removed the lock of the other rooms fearing my little brother would lock himslef up and he didn't want to imagine what chaos that could create.I knew the other rooms wouldnt suffice my need because I wasn't strong enough to keep the door shut when mum tried to push it from the other side.However my new refuge offered none to cool my mum.So all I did was lock up myself in the washroom and wait for a few minutes or so till my mum chilled.And then I would open the door slightly giving space just enough for my two little eyes to peek through and when I sense the situation has calmed and the weather in the house is pleasant,I step out without leaving the door knob as a matter of precaution in case mum appeared at the battle field from nowhere.And then I would take  few steps further to spy on what she is doing.And heave a heavy sign of relief at the sight of her resting elsewhere after a series of failed attempts on hitting me.

Practical trauma

In a week,two days are alloted for practicals.As one enters lab,the rule states that the student must be euipped with a rough record which is amusingly any book that my hands feel at the spur of that moment and should be wearing labcoat.It also requires the submission of record of the recent practical class which I admit to never have submitted until the previous day of the exam.Just like me,there would be many others who run around at the last minute to all classes pleading for a labcoat.This very act proved our lose preparation towards practical classes.Unlike a few other students who were keen on letting the apparatus work, my interest was only at copying the observation table from them and presenting it before ma'am for her approval,simultaneously stealing the credit of having undergone successful practical hours.Always having considered practicals as a period devoted to getting loads-of-nothing-done, I was finally taken toll of,on the day of practical exam.
The procedure for practical exam wasn't much of an ordeal.All one had to do was draw a sheet from the stack of question papers and begin working on them.I made a sincere prayer and walked into the lab hoping to pick the sheet that would miraculosuly let me answer every question.Only wanting Lady luck to be by my side till I am thrown out,I gently pick one and hand it over to ma'am like I were the chief guest and had been called upon to pick for a raffle draw!She points out  to my position and I grab the sheet from her and rush to my position only to decelerate as I brushed past my partner with a nudge followed by pleady look requesting her help.I look at all the apparatus served on my table waiting for me to be  connected and wish sympathetically if I could impart my helplessness to them and wildly hope they would assmeble on their own upon my command & make life easier for me.MY EYES SEARCH FOR THOSE FAMILIAR FACES WHO HAD BEEN MY LAB PARTNERS ONCE UPON A TIME AND HAD SHARED MY LETHARGIC NATURE OF COPYING READINGS FROM OTHER BOOKS,NOW SEEMED SO ENGROSSED IN WHAT THEY WERE DOING & GUILT HITS ME HARD AS I WATCH THEIR FINGERS FUNCTIONING EFFICIENTLY LIKE EXPERTS.It is during the experiment that the teacher calls students one by one to be saughtered with the razore sharp questions(viva).As I connected the circuit after a history of failed attempts,my mind did not even forget to skip a thought on the circumstance whereby I might get electrocuted.My knowledge about circuit connections made me think at heights of insanity and I wondered whether boards would pull down practical exams had the news reached their complaint resistant ears.I had managed to eavesdrop a few answers from other students during the occasion of their viva but unfortunately the frequency of their voice seemd inaudible even to ma'am who had by then stretched her neck across the table in an attempt to make the conversation all the more confidential.The scene reminded me of confession at church.Startled by the call of my name,I realise I am the  next chosen victim for the always feared viva.Like a PRISONER SENTENCED TO BE HANGED,I walk out of my place and feel my legs going wobbly as I head towards the teacher.Eyes that I had flinched from looking into,would now focus compleltey on me and the very thought about it made my mind go numb.She shot questions at me, and I FELT LIKE A CRIMINAL BEING QUESTIONED.Had i been offered a TABALA AT THAT INSTANT,I WOULD HAVE MOST SURPRISINGLY PROVED MY ABILITY AS A WORLD RENOWNEDREMARKABLE TABALIST.That was  the height of my nervousness.Unable to answer any question,I get up after my turn with a heavy heart dragging myself out of the lab as though THE DOCTOR HAD DIAGNOSED ME WITH AN INCURABLE DISEASE.But experience has forced me to take an oath on NEVER TO TAKE PRACTICALS LIGHTLY WHICH PRACTICALLY KILLED ME!!

THE CHEMISTRY OF CHEMISTRY

Dear C6H12O6,

I am diluted in your love.As the intermolecular bond between us strengthens,I realise no outside force can separate our triple bond.The interstices in my mind are filled with your thoughts and you precipitate even in my dreams.I donate you my heart and I am positive that you will accept it with immense pleasure.My dad fumes at the thought of us getting married.He is pretty exothermic and quite unpredictable.Yet I hope his anger will settle at the bottom and willingly participate in our reaction.However,mum continues to remain at equilibrium when I speak about you.Now because we don't meet everyday doesn't mean you behave like sodium metal in water(reactive)at the sight of any chic on the street.I get excited when I think about you and visualise golden sprangles.I am hoping you share the same feelings.I am decomposing my letter here.P.S:I love you for not behaving like noble metals at room temperature(unreactive) towards my feelings.With loads of electrons,

 your solute,C12H22O11.