the kite runner - the film

The Kite Runner is a story told with great detail, touching the emotional chord. It is so poignantly told that one starts to imagine the scenes herself/himself. The Afghanistan prior to the Russian invasion and the Taliban rule is pictured beautifully. It makes one want to holiday there. It's a pity the country had to undergo such a devastating phase.

The film goes by the same name.

When i started viewing films adapted from books that i've read, i always used to say that the movie adaptation fails to get the entire essence of the film (mostly Harry Potters'). But, i retracted on my statement after watching the Da Vinci Code, and perhaps, Angels and Demons. I really enjoyed the former. Every page is represented in the film. I did not think that the director missed out a major point present in the novel.

After reading an article about the film adaptation of The Kite Runner, i made it a point to watch the film. It skims through the pages, editing out those sequences which i feel is essential. As they are recalled upon.

On the other hand, what i really liked about this film are those scenes viewed from the sky, from a kite's point of view. The event of kite flying is filmed appreciably well. With kites travelling on air currents, dipping and rising. The blue sky in the background with excited cries from children.

In total, it's an O.K. film, by me. I guess the 'O.K.' might have been a 'good' if i hadn't read the book.

the art of sleeping

I learnt the art of sleeping, during classes, when in undergrad. I use the word sleep specifically, as i literally used to sleep. Doze, i did at times, but i slept many times. I also did sleep in post grad, many times. Was caught red-handed
once or twice, but my friends came to my rescue.

Monday mornings used to bring in the blues. At times, i groaned after waking up on Monday mornings, and pushed myself into the bathroom. The first hour on Monday was Zoology. And it was handled by a very nice lady. Mrs. V is fluent in her subject, and is kind-at-heart. I used to sit in the 3rd or the 4th row, occupying the position beside the aisle. Quite under her nose. And dozed. I found it so difficult to keep myself awake. She taught us the classification of Zoology, and had that special ability to make a class interesting. I was threatened most classes, that i'd be marked absent. As and when my name was called out from the register, she used to glare at me; in a friendly manner. Apprehension ruled me for the first few classes. But, later, when i got to know her a bit well, i was never bothered by her threats.

I used to sleep in Micro classes too. They were scheduled just after lunch. Eyelids would close, as if by magic. All of us used to lie down. Watching everybody struggling to keep their eyes open was fun. We were chided, scolded at times. All harsh words fell on deaf ears.

We had language classes for the first four semesters. We were about sixty in a class, and were hardly noticed. In the fourth semester, i was asked to freshen myself quite a number of times, during an on-going class. I guess, i was the only person to do that, repeatedly. And the Kannada lecturer did ask me to show proof of water on my face. I was shocked. How could somebody, a senior faculty at that, ask a student to do something like that. I then replied, saying that the water had evaporated, and hence my face was dry. I don't think she bought that, but i was true to every word of my answer. If you ask me, her face showed suspicion, high levels at that, even on hearing my answer. And i was asked to enter the class. I still can't comprehend the reason behind she asking me that particular question. God alone knows!!

Again in the final semester, Mrs. V handled Genetics for us. If i'm right, it was a Monday, and it was the last period, from 3 to 4 in the evening. We were tired and couldn't take any more of Zoology. Ours was the only class functioning on the entire floor. We did complain, and i did reschedule that hour to a more convenient time. Mrs. V was talking about Epistasis. I blinked a few times, drank a few sips of water, to keep my eyes open. The minimum i could do was to prove that i was not dozing, if not attentive. I was sitting in the second row, and didn't want to be caught by her. Of course, me being caught napping was nothing new. In vain. I slept for a few minutes in peace. Nevertheless, i was not noticed, or even if i was, nothing was mentioned about it.

I found myself refreshed (after the nap), ready to soak in Genetics. She was speaking about something, which i never understood. I did think logically to grasp those inferences made by some scientist. I still did not get it. I then, interrupted the class, asking her to repeat the theory. She stood in silence in moment, saying that i could have asked her earlier, and enquired as to what i was doing when it was being taught. Hesitantly, i told her that i slept. The class burst out laughing instantly. Mrs. V, who speaks in a loud note, told me, 'Mouna, i speak loudly, in fact i almost shout in class, and you could still sleep. How's that possible?'.

james herriot

I'm back to doing what i like and enjoy best. I read James Herriot: All Creatures Great and Small. I remember having read/heard about this book a long time ago. I chanced upon this book, only last year.

It's a lovely book. The book revolves around the protagonist, a veterinarian and his life in Yorkshire. The people, the food, the lifestyle, the animals. It reflects the life of the author, who was a vet himself. The read is easy, with funny anecdotes put in every now and then. Experiences of the vet with his boss, the horse, cows, pigs on farmland, the farmers themselves, is endearing. The language is rustic at some places.

The author has a couple of other novels in his name, like All Things Bright and Beautiful, All Things Wise and Wonderful etc.

All trees receive the same sunlight and water. Thought the quantities required or received may be different. One cannot term a huge tree to suffice itself without these elements.

It is perhaps, the same with us too. Just because somebody is capable of doing and handling tough situations, it does not mean the same person does not require assistance. She/he seeks for a helping hand, with no obvious verbal communication. Encouraging and supporting people during such instances, it's something beyond providing assurance. It's to show that a second or a third person is present, she/he who cares for you, though the frequency of such instances may be low.

It's a pity. We forget to say, 'It's alright, things will get better...', when it is required of us. Who knows, this phrase may lighten somebody's heart, someday. One can never tell. At times, even the srongest person, asks for a supporting hand, to stand up straight.

yesterday's ads'

When in Mysore, we friends used to play videos of old indian ads repeatedly. Over and over again. Until we get tired and sick of it. the process used to be repeated after a few days. That's when i realized that the ads that i saw and listened to when growing up, were kind of special.

Those tunes, to this day, are memorable, and are still in use. With some electric guitars thrown in. I wish some of them could be aired even today, you know, just for the sheer fun of it.

The ads for TITAN, AMUL, Bajaj, Dhara, Sundrop. My favorite is the Bajaj ad. The jingle, the video co-ordinates each other pretty well. Even the recent ads of Bajaj carried the same tune with stylish music, of course.

Some of them were funny. Nevertheless, they were nice.

a bird, set free

Darkness ascended like a pleasant shroud. A dense shroud that blanketed all sources of light. That vanquished the outlines of nearby buildings, all in a sudden. Until the eyes got used to the various shades of gray splattered in front of it. From light gray to solid gray which appeared seemingly black.

Eyelids fluttered. The decision to close them or not was contemplated upon. For a few minutes. Complete darkness would do some good. Tied hair was let loose, and the head rested on a pillow. A stream of thoughts flew, one after another; some fed by memory, others by imagination. Laughs were heard, whispers were spoken and listened to. When thoughts were released as a string of words.

Silence ruled the environs for quite some time. Until the eyelids slid back, allowing eyes to visualise things.

A bird flew in the gray sky. The wings made beautiful movements. As if no thrust existed in the atmosphere, as if no pressure was felt. It circumscribed a certain radius, and descended slowly. Net, a pair of crocodiles moved towards each other, snarling with angry grunts. The sounds were provided by the ever-imaginative mind. Only, the engrossed could hear it.

Flowers blossomed, peacocks romped around, water flowed. Every movement was performed with grace. Lasting for a very brief period of time, when another took position.

The hand which created everything grew tired, after the fingers darted in the air, now and then.

The wall which acquired a perfect backdrop for the wild birds, flowers, faded. Shadows merged with each other.

Light beamed into the area through an open door. The loose hair was next observed in the presence of illumination.

The ' feel good factor'. Does it signify that committing mistakes, feeling low, portraying joy on one's face, having tiny eyes due to the lack of sleep, being irritated, screaming at somebody; all of it is a part of life. Bearing all of it on our shoulders is necessary. To keep up the spirit of life, something of that sort.

And what is that wonderful sense of goodness obtained when we see, listen to or read something of this sort? Does it impact us by implying that all of it is common, and we are not the only suffering souls. Suffering in what context and to the degree to which the word is applicable.

They are many "firsts" in life, they say. It again, depends on what one wants to categorise as first. If at all the mind takes the first into consideration. Many "firsts" go unnoticed.

Isn't the human mind prejudiced? According to one's convenience.

I've been wearing something on my ears since yesterday. This change in me makes me finger it every now and then, to get a feel of it. Or to get a glimpse of myself, every time i pass the mirror.

I hardly wear something on my ears, unless some occasion demands it. Thus, most times, my ear remains undecorated. Many people who know me, have enquired about it's absence. I've never given it much importance, and i think i never will, if my life proceeds in the same fashion as i'm leading it presently. ( I hope i've not spoken too soon).

They wonder about the craziness in me to opt for this abnormality. Perhaps, it's just my style or i'm too busy for it (this is the reason that i quip when asked). I don't have to do something just because somebody else does it, or because the society expects me to do so. Call me rude or arrogant. I've been called both, as i don't heed a third person's advice, unless really necessary.

It shouldn't matter a lot. Really.

back to bengalooru

I wanted to come to Bengalooru for 2 reasons. I was and am tired of being ill. I'm not totally myself since one month or so. I've swallowed so many pills, than i ever had; during my stay in Mysuru. And two; after realising that my blog still had it's readers, i wanted to come back to blogging.

Therain has been constant in Mysuru, since the past week. I started complaining, when i used to get wet riding to and fro from the university to my hostel; clothes hung out for drying, always used to get soggy. After a couple of grunts, i shut my mouth. It had to rain day in and out, if we were to enjoy the fan, a glass of cold water on a hot day during the middle of a scorching summer, and if we want to buy grains and vegetables at reasonable prices. Nature does teach mankind!

Anotrher thing that cheered me up, is the Strand Book Sale that's happening at Basava Bhavan, near High Grounds Police Station. I was waiting to visit it, and i did. Good books at some discount till this sunday, the 12th of July.

Yes, M.Sc. is over. And i'm back in Bengalooru. Now arises the big question, 'What's next?'. Only time can tell me.