Tuesday, 11 March 2014

What’s in a name? A promise, I say.

Throw at me a book or a film with an unusual title and I’m sure to grab it. I've had mixed success though. I loved the film How to Lose Friends and Alienate People, but didn't quite enjoy the book The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. So, when I was scrolling through the TV guide and came across a film called Love and Other Impossible Pursuits, I had to watch it. 

I was 30 minutes late to the party, so I don't know how the characters had developed. The TV guide blurb mentioned that it was a film about a woman trying to forge a relationship with her husband’s son. The main character Emilia Greenleaf, played by Natalie Portman, was trying to be very Stepmom-esq with a boy of about eight or nine, but the efforts lacked the chutzpah of Julia Roberts. It was more like an Indian-bahu-trapped-in-a-joint-family trying to do something she had been instructed to do. That’s Natalie Portman’s forte, I guess. She’s made a career from playing characters seemingly trapped in impossible situations (often involving the mind), be it The Black Swan or Anywhere but Here. I digress. Back to the film.

My mixed success with unusual titles continued with this film.

I loved the backdrop – New York City. My heart ached to be there. The sights and sounds of that city call out to me on silent afternoons and chaotic mornings. It’s one of the three cities in the world that I’ve fallen in love with from the word go. I digress again.

It turned out that the blurb was probably written by a newly hired intern at the production house because the film turned out to be about something different. It was about the internal struggle of a woman who had lost her three-day-old daughter to SIDS to come to terms with this reality. Her grief resonated with me. I ‘got’ it. I’ve been there, although not exactly there – I’ve experienced similar trauma, caused by my multiple miscarriages, that dragged me to the darkest corners of grief, something I hope no one has to go through. I wanted to learn about Emilia’s personal journey. One particular exchange of dialogues that I will remember for a long time was between the main character and her once-estranged father. She said, “I want her [the daughter] back.” He replied, “That’s not one of your choices, darling.”  There was no drama, just a conversation between a daughter and her father. I wanted to reach out and hug the character. Again, that’s what Portman does. She breathes life into characters.

Nonetheless, overall the film was a drag. It had a few poignant moments, but there were many more things I did not understand. I did understand Emilia's helplessness and self-blame, but that was it. I did not get the remembrance walk or Emilia’s rage when she discovered that her husband’s ex-wife was pregnant with a boyfriend’s baby. Many things were rather abrupt.  I didn't understand how she could go for an impromptu stroll with her then-estranged father whom she had bumped into on the road and frankly discuss her split with her husband and longing for her daughter. I didn't get how the extra-venomous ex-wife of the husband could easily go out of her way to ‘establish’ to Emilia that Emilia was not responsible for the death of the daughter. Emilia’s physical transformation – from long overcoats and lanky attire to fitting pants and jackets, and from wavy hair to a straight, structure tuft – took maybe three shots and less than a minute of screen time. It was just too sudden and rapid to be true to the story or its narrative. The ending was abrupt too. I will not give it out here, but I doubt anyone would watch the movie anyway.

So, yeah, my unexplained love affair with ‘all things unusually titled/named’ remains unrequited. They don’t always love me back like I love them. Will I stop? I doubt because the book I’m reading currently is an autobiography called Thanks for Nothing and it’s quite interesting.

PS: I wrote about the film purely based on my opinion. After writing this piece, I ran some internet searches and discovered that the name of the film is NOT Love and Other Impossible Pursuits. That’s the name of the novel by Ayelet Waldman on which it is based. The film is called The Other Woman, a title I think is utterly boring and nearly suicidal for any work of art. There is no mystery left – it gives away the story, all of it. No wonder not many really took the pain of watching the film. Box office collection was rather dismal. It was also panned by critics for bad direction and a melodramatic script (I nod in agreement), despite good acting by Portman (another nod from me). Based on the reviews I read, I think the novel explored the relationship between the main character and her step-son in detail, but it got lost somewhere in the film.

Again, will I trust my title-based judgement? Yes, I still will because technically this wasn't exactly a film with an unusual title. The TV guide listing misled me.

Friday, 28 February 2014

Kids say the darndest things. They also ask the darndest questions.

He was munching on a piece of guava while I looked on impatiently, waiting for him to finish his snack so that I could take him to the park. He asked, “Why do we need time?” Patience is not my best virtue and I snapped, “We don’t need any time. We need to get going.” “No, Mama, why do we need time? The time on all the clocks?” That’s when it hit me – my about-to-turn-five bundle of cuteness wanted me to help him understand the concept of time.

Bill Cosby was right all along. Kids do say the darndest things. They also ask the darndest questions. I guess I signed up for this when I decided to become a mother.

I’ve worked hard on inculcating in my son the habit of asking questions and he had just made me proud. Evidently, my boy has a mind that is smarter than I give it credit for. Nonetheless, my challenge was to explain a universal, albeit complex, concept to a little person. To make sense and to stay on the same page, my reply had to be simple and short. I gave it a thought. Then I proceeded to talk.

“You know the world is a big place, right? So, to maintain our schedules and to not disturb other’s schedules, we all need to know what time it is. What do you think will happen if you and your bus driver didn’t know what time it was? He might reach the bus stand early, wait for some time and leave, thinking you had forgotten to go to school. On the other hand, when you would reach the bus stand on time, you would think the bus driver had forgotten the bus route. Both of you will fail at what you set out to do. But if everyone knew the time for the bus, we would all reach school on time every day.” I wasn't sure if my reply would hold water. I waited for his reaction.

He considered the answer over the last few bites of his snack and nodded. “I get it now! We all should know the time so that we can do what we want to. You, me, Papa, driver uncle, all of us!”

I relaxed my tense back muscles and smiled.

As an afterthought, he added, “I think I get it now because I’m old and wise.”

Kids do say the darndest things, don’t they?

Tuesday, 28 January 2014

How the day spent me

Bore alert: This is a random post. If you want to go away, now is a pretty good time to do so. You've been warned.

What I planned to do yesterday:
  • Get a haircut (which always involves submitting my sparse and yet utterly unruly crop over to the dresser and keeping my fingers crossed) and try to sneak in an unscheduled facial appointment.
  • Drop a cheque at the bank.
  • Maybe visit the insurance office and pay the overdue premium.
  • Maybe pick up grocery. Noodles! Definitely visit the grocery store.
  • Maybe pick up the two serving bowls that the new dinner set is missing.
  • On the way back, hop into the library, return the compendium of celebrity interviews that I've thoroughly enjoyed and get an interesting book.
  • Take a long, relaxing bath and adore my new haircut.
  • Play with my sonny boy, help him with homework, allow him a bit of Jungle Book or Curious George time on YouTube, read him a book and put him to bed.

And then the driver called in sick. So, here's what I ended up doing:
  • Made a copious amount of pesto and finished it with the help of the hubby.
  • Taught the boy how to 'run' a sack race, first with a garbage bag (epic fail) and then with a large pillow case (super hit). The boy hopped all over the living room and stopped only when the pillow case ripped. But it was fun while it lasted.
  • Set up a play tent without any help from anyone and without referring to the user manual. 
  • Helped the boy with a bit of homework and let him watch TV for an hour. Yes, yes, judge me.
  • Watched the much-hyped and much-awaited interview of Rahul Gandhi by Arnab Goswami.
Meanwhile, my hair is a mess and the only thing I've read today is the newspaper. Oh, the noodles! I'm still craving noodles. 

Yet in all earnest I don't think I'll ever drive. Really.

Friday, 15 November 2013

The one about the thing called parenthood and a test

I came across a new-parent test on the Daily Mail yesterday. It cracked me up enough for me to want to laugh uncontrollably, but I couldn't as I was surrounded by a number of unknown faces. So, I launched my body into a shaking fit, the kind that happens when you try to repress a full-throated laugh. I'm just glad that I wasn't eating anything. Choking is no fun, I'm guessing. 

If you are a parent, plan to become one, have one or seen one, this is for you to read. My favourite part? The grocery-shopping test.
  • Go to the local supermarket. Take with you the nearest thing you can find to a pre-school child - a fully grown goat is excellent. If you intend to have more than one child, take more than one goat.
  • Buy your weekly groceries without letting the goat(s) out of your sight.
  • Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys.

The writer Bianca London has hit the nail on the head. Although there is some obvious exaggeration -- like trying to put a live octopus in a bag when a kitten would have sufficed -- the message is clear. Parenting is not easy (but it can be fun IMHO).

Monday, 28 October 2013

I'm livin' life in the fast lane

When I planned to launch 'That fleeting moment' two months ago, I had no idea how rapidly my life was about to change and days, even weeks, were about to become fleeting moments.

Days are a blur, and I am having to dive deep rather frequently, come up to catch breath and dive back in. I cannot believe October is almost over. Believe me, it was August just a few days ago. In the past couple of months, I've seen life change course like a flooded river -- I welcomed a new member in the family and lost her (my precious niece spent a mere four fleeting weeks with us before she departed), accepted an exciting job offer, realised (yet again) I don't suffer fools gladly, resolutely changed priorities and made some life-changing decisions. I hope these are the right decisions for me and my family. I also hope I can look back some day and feel proud that I made them.

What lies ahead? Life in the fast lane, at least for some more time. Then, I will stop and smell the roses. I know it'll be sooner than later. Once again, I'll cruise on auto-pilot.

Monday, 2 September 2013

Get off the pot

Me: "Oh, your warm and soft fingers. The son likes them very much."
Hubby (looking smug): "Really? Why do you say so?"
Me: "I can think of no other reason for him to ask only you to wash his bum after he has done the job."
Hubby (looking crestfallen): "You are disgusting."

Just another conversation between a couple trying to teach their son how to clean his own butt.

It doesn't escape my attention that when we achieve this goal, we'll be cutting off the last tissues of the extended and invisible umbilical chord we share with him, setting him free from any physical dependence on us. Nonetheless, it's not really a shit-or-get-off-the-pot situation, but a shit-and-get-off-the-pot situation for now.

Sunday, 25 August 2013

That fleeting moment

This blog hasn't been my most-loved child and it's so blatantly obvious that I cannot even afford to make a fool of myself by offering an explanation. I've been thinking about ways to force motivate myself to be more regular in visiting my little nook on the internet and here's my fix - That fleeting moment. The plan is to post a picture every other week with a brief description. It sounds doable even though I'm not big on photography and own an ordinary point-and-shoot camera. Nonetheless, I'm going to make a jab at making this project a success. So, without much ado, here's the first installment.

That fleeting moment - Aug 2013
The rain drops fall on my window pane
The landscape in this part of the country is a far cry from the landscape I'm most fond of, the Himalayas and its foothills. A recent road trip to Coorg made me change my mind, though. I think it was the rain, which had the magical effect of making the landscape look prettier than ever. I whipped out my poor-man's camera and started clicking. I love this picture because the lens decided to focus on the foreground, which explains the sharp rain drops and the dull scenery. Who would have guessed I clicked it on a lark?