Imagine being provoked, tested and pushed almost to the point of tearing my hair out, by a man on New Year’s Eve.
By a man who does not even exist.
I mean by a fictitious character. I was not drunk, no not all. But then, it happened to me for real. I never thought Andy Dufresne was going to get into my thoughts the way he did.
I am talking about the same Andy Dufresne, the unbelievably positive hero of ‘Shawshank Redemption,’ one of the greatest Hollywood movies ever made, according to me. I have seen the movie – twice. It indeed had a great impact on me then and continues to be one of my favourites. But, this is not that Andy Dufresne.
I happened to chance upon Stephen King’s book ‘Different Seasons’ containing four novellas and the first story in the book was ‘Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption.’
I knew the story well, yet, I was curious about the differences that crop up when books are made to movies. There were minor ones I agree. To his credit, the director has maintained a tight grip on the storyline in the movie.
But, the story in print is like a lip smacking dessert. Every sentence was an absolute delight. And the fact that I could hear Morgan Freeman’s voice narrating the entire drama while I read the book stands as a testimony to the effectiveness of the movie in translating to such powerful script and visuals on screen.
In case one is wondering, this is not what bothered me.
I experienced a peculiar sensation while reading this tale. Some kind of inner tumult going on parallelly. I felt as if I was hypnotized. Later, I forgot about it as the vacation drew to an end.
Recently I was caught unawares by changes in the weather and, on one of those nights as I lay in the bed, slightly feverish and unable to sleep, it came back to me again. I can’t really put a finger on what it was, but it could be roughly translated as a provocation – to detach myself from self and stand as an external party observing my own thought process, my hopes, desires, beliefs and my pessimism. To question the path that is developing in my life on its own, to challenge it and dare to chart it out according to my wish. It was as if Andy Dufresne was making fun of me – his silent laughter innocently mocking my feeble attempts at making decisions, all the while worrying about the possibility of falling flat on my face. Of me trying to be safe and not rock the boat.
Of course, I chided myself: I was just getting carried away by the wonderful optimism of a story – something that is not real.
But then, that strange word stuck in my mind: Institutionalized.
I liked the way the word was used. How convenient it was to describe the way the prisoners felt! However, it exactly describes what we have turned out to be – outside a prison, living in a progressive community and free, yet, institutionalized. By the society that chains us with moral obligations, responsibilities and unrealistic expectations. Expectations that have no business to be there in the first place.
But I cannot waste time trying to question and change the way it works; I’d rather change things for me. I still have the freedom of choice between what is expected and what I want to do. It does not matter if the act of choosing is near impossible.
May be I was plain high on the feel-good factor of the fiction or, may be I was delirious; I had not been keeping well. What else would explain such thoughts bouncing off my head at 2 a.m. in the morning?
Still, somewhere in a small corner of my heart, I dared to hope that a small conflict created in the mind today could later snowball to a strong change to become a better me.
After all it took about twenty seven years, according to the book, for Andy Dufresne to dig a tunnel in the prison wall with a rock hammer.
Jan 8, 2008
Dec 21, 2007
Road Trip
Life on a friday morning is quite ordinary. Nothing useful or meaningful happening around. I have four days of leave ahead and am shocked to find out I am not excited about them. I have never been this jaded all my life. Probably I need another road trip. Speaking of which, I have realized travelling by one's own vehicle is so much fun and relaxing.
My trip two weeks ago from Bangalore to Udupi via chikmagalur, kalasa, kudremukh was a bliss.
My trip two weeks ago from Bangalore to Udupi via chikmagalur, kalasa, kudremukh was a bliss.
Chikmagalur Hills 
Arecanut plantation, chikmagalur
Twilight in Kudremukh
Bamboo forest - Thirthahalli
Hair pin bend - Aagumbe
Sahyadri Range - Agumbe
Sunset Point - Aagumbe
Note: The pictures are quite fuzzy since we were constantly on the move.
Dec 18, 2007
Leather connection
What is it with men and leather jackets? While traveling to work in the office bus, I see this guy with a 'passion' for leather jackets - black, brown, fawn, and even red! (What was he thinking?)
I suppose it's about being macho. I mean, it probably gives them the feeling that they are macho men or, may be the belief that they turn into one once they wear such stuff. But for the jacket, most people would not have noticed the guy in question who is well, kind of short, skinny and totally self-conscious enough to look down diligently while moving towards the rear seats. I always wondered how did he know which seats were empty – if he kept his head that low!
Before one jumps into conclusion that I don’t like him or any men of similar stature, let me clarify it was the jacket that had me gagging and not the person.
I guess it is not fair to expect only the rippling muscle men to wear leather jackets and accessories; after all, every one is entitled to their bit of fantasy.
I suppose it's about being macho. I mean, it probably gives them the feeling that they are macho men or, may be the belief that they turn into one once they wear such stuff. But for the jacket, most people would not have noticed the guy in question who is well, kind of short, skinny and totally self-conscious enough to look down diligently while moving towards the rear seats. I always wondered how did he know which seats were empty – if he kept his head that low!
Before one jumps into conclusion that I don’t like him or any men of similar stature, let me clarify it was the jacket that had me gagging and not the person.
I guess it is not fair to expect only the rippling muscle men to wear leather jackets and accessories; after all, every one is entitled to their bit of fantasy.
Nov 12, 2007
Post gorging session
There were three things to cheer about this Deepavali (or Diwali, as more commonly called nowadays and somehow less appreciated.)
*Great food back home, lovingly prepared by mommie dear
*Having Potter around for few days without having to worry about his and my work
*Gifts to be given and received
As the lights faded and I tumbled back to reality, I realized the monotony of our lives – mechanized by work, a crowded city and general listlessness, is all the more highlighted.
Added to the misery is my new found love for sweets. I can not believe I have grown to like these squishy looking halwas, browned burfies and other seemingly unappetizing eatables. Life has not been easy – hiding all those bulges takes a certain amount of efforts, skill and preparation on my part every time I go out.
But, it is not the time to ponder over such depressing things now.
I have more things to worry about than the President of United States – for example, I have to think and strategize about how to counter the magic spell by all those awful sweets on the already weak muscles and growing adipose reserves.
After five days of holiday bliss, the Monday morning is another major hurdle that I will have tackle now. Thankfully, the blow is less painful since the boss is not around yet – allowing me the pleasure of cribbing online.
The one thing I am happy about these festivals and the breaks that come along with them is that they urge me to demand more out of myself. And a purpose to get out of the usual laziness that surrounds life.
Nov 5, 2007
I, Me(me) and My left little toe
Dreamcatcher has been up to some or the other mischief of late. If not, why else would she think of dragging me into this?
But it works for me! Though for all wrong reasons – it has given me a chance to write something/anything, considering how little I have been visiting my own blog.
Meme – I am quite ignorant when it comes to things like these…
However, I am equally open to try it out and see how it turns out in my hands.
So, from one link to the other and another, I kept reading and reading, trying to understand what exactly I have to do. I would not say I understood it quite clearly, but then, has it ever mattered? Looks like the ‘chosen one’ has to put down her/his thoughts on Writing – probably, on good writing.
Of the lot, DC has given the best clarity to this whole thing. So, I shall follow her steps with glee :-)
Why write?
When nothing can cheer me up about myself, writing does the dark chocolate trick. Instant gratification. The moment I finish what I started, I feel good, reaallllllllll good about everything around me. Yes, the fine-tuning process is painstakingly tedious, but that does not really dampen the spirits. I am amazed by the words that tumble out of nowhere to form a wonderful sentence that has the capacity to make or break my day.
When to write?
Anytime is a good time. Having said that, one is gravely mistaken if one thinks I can write at the drop of a hat. I hate to ponder and wander and not write a word. There are times when I really have to struggle hard; this makes me quit immediately. Then there are days, when I can see bright yellow butterflies perched on my writing, flitting from one line to the other.
What to write?
Anything that I can think of, as long as it makes sense: straight, honest, diabolic, twisted inverted, simple – basically, sense in some form or the other. The fun element dies the moment I need to search for a topic, which is why most of the times I am underground in hiding!
One should write what one feels strongly about; emotions, logic, science, fiction, philosophy, anything. Most importantly one should know what one writes about.
Where to write?
Depending on the type of mood I am in, I go headlong into frenzied typing in the middle of an assignment during office hours or peck on the keyboard for eternity at home (if and when PC is available)
How to write?
Write as it comes. Thoughts are tricky little monsters. They suck the life out of you but they fly away laughing at your useless efforts if you think you can handle them later in leisure. There is just one way to hold them: catch them instantly and pin them up on your writing boards.
Who to write for?
Sometime ago, I used to be under this illusion of writing for that someone special. No such silly notions now.
It’s thankfully I, Me and My left little toe!
Do I tag?
After much deliberation, I have decided that I follow the proverb ‘united we stand…’
Hence, two bloggers are going to ensure we don’t fall divided.
So it is your turn Bees…
Bikerdude (you have no option: you get tagged every time I get tagged hahaaaa!)
Backpakker (Have not seen you doing meme/tags/whatever other names – so one super chance to do and get over with!)
But it works for me! Though for all wrong reasons – it has given me a chance to write something/anything, considering how little I have been visiting my own blog.
Meme – I am quite ignorant when it comes to things like these…
However, I am equally open to try it out and see how it turns out in my hands.
So, from one link to the other and another, I kept reading and reading, trying to understand what exactly I have to do. I would not say I understood it quite clearly, but then, has it ever mattered? Looks like the ‘chosen one’ has to put down her/his thoughts on Writing – probably, on good writing.
Of the lot, DC has given the best clarity to this whole thing. So, I shall follow her steps with glee :-)
Why write?
When nothing can cheer me up about myself, writing does the dark chocolate trick. Instant gratification. The moment I finish what I started, I feel good, reaallllllllll good about everything around me. Yes, the fine-tuning process is painstakingly tedious, but that does not really dampen the spirits. I am amazed by the words that tumble out of nowhere to form a wonderful sentence that has the capacity to make or break my day.
When to write?
Anytime is a good time. Having said that, one is gravely mistaken if one thinks I can write at the drop of a hat. I hate to ponder and wander and not write a word. There are times when I really have to struggle hard; this makes me quit immediately. Then there are days, when I can see bright yellow butterflies perched on my writing, flitting from one line to the other.
What to write?
Anything that I can think of, as long as it makes sense: straight, honest, diabolic, twisted inverted, simple – basically, sense in some form or the other. The fun element dies the moment I need to search for a topic, which is why most of the times I am underground in hiding!
One should write what one feels strongly about; emotions, logic, science, fiction, philosophy, anything. Most importantly one should know what one writes about.
Where to write?
Depending on the type of mood I am in, I go headlong into frenzied typing in the middle of an assignment during office hours or peck on the keyboard for eternity at home (if and when PC is available)
How to write?
Write as it comes. Thoughts are tricky little monsters. They suck the life out of you but they fly away laughing at your useless efforts if you think you can handle them later in leisure. There is just one way to hold them: catch them instantly and pin them up on your writing boards.
Who to write for?
Sometime ago, I used to be under this illusion of writing for that someone special. No such silly notions now.
It’s thankfully I, Me and My left little toe!
Do I tag?
After much deliberation, I have decided that I follow the proverb ‘united we stand…’
Hence, two bloggers are going to ensure we don’t fall divided.
So it is your turn Bees…
Bikerdude (you have no option: you get tagged every time I get tagged hahaaaa!)
Backpakker (Have not seen you doing meme/tags/whatever other names – so one super chance to do and get over with!)
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