Livinghigh: I'm sick, I'm BUSY
Monday, February 28, 2005
Livinghigh was here at 10:21 PM /

I'm sick, I'm BUSY

I suppose, convalescence is all about being able to read the books you'd like to, see the movies you'd like to, write the stories you'd like to - and so and so forth. It is certainly true, that I have been more or less hooked onto my computer here in Calcutta - though my mum would like me to be more social to visitors when they come calling to see me. I can't help it. I have written more stories more consecutively, than ever before, gone through some of my older works, read at least three books in a week (which is a LOT for me!) and even done research for my next novel.

And today, I saw the Tom Hank-starrer, Road to Perdition, something which I have been meaning to see for almost two years now, since a college-mate first told me it was a brilliant movie. I agree with him - it IS a brilliant movie. It has something director Sam Mendes incorporates perhaps in all his movies - a bitter-sweet ending. The death at the close of the film seems so unavoidable, as did the death at the end of American Beauty, and yet - there is so much beauty in the world. Road... is a chilling movie, but more than that, it is a beautiful movie. It touches you, and you can't help but feel the hope by the time the credits roll by. It is the same in ...Beauty: you get a feeling, after all the disasters have happened, that perhaps now the people involved will be able to find a sliver of the peace and beauty that has eluded them so far.

In case, anyone else has not seen the movie: Road to Perdition is set in 1931, and shows the events unfolding when a young boy discovers that his grim and distant father is actually a hatchet-man for the mob, played by Tom Hanks. In a mistake, Hanks' wife and younger son are killed, and he is on the run with his older son. It is a story of revenge, and even, to an extent, redemption. Hanks discovers both his son and himself. I love the way Perdition is portrayed as this lovely little place by the sea, white beaches, barking dog, far away from the big, bad city of Chicago. (Marve beach, perhaps…?)

And, like I said, the fiction-mill is also on overdrive. This is a new one, titled A Song. I suppose, I'm actually missing those horrendous Bombay locals, or I would not have written this one. I'm actually also taking a swipe at some people here, and letting some other sleeping dogs lie, as they are. It's complicated, but here's a tiny extract:

Ayesha had come on the line again, and explained to the RJ that her husband had surprised her this morning when she came out of the bathroom with a dozen long-stemmed red roses lying there on the bed, while he himself was no where to be found. The RJ laughed and asked her whether Arun knew she had called up to ask for a special song for him, and Ayesha said, she didn’t think so. That was when the RJ had his brilliant idea of getting Arun’s cell phone number from Ayesha and said, he would give the busy husband a call, so that they would play a little game with him. Ayesha, of course, was quite delighted at the turn of events. The RJ started playing Kiss Me, by Sixpence None The Richer.

It's a love-hate relationship I share with my RJs!

Mirror Mirror #12: My favourite show on air is Jaggu and Taraanaa's Good Morning Mumbai! Most of the women I speak to say that Jaggu is amazing, and I agree with this, but I think Taraanaa's pretty cool in her own way! I love the way they jibe with each other, in the typical Old Mumbai-versus-New Mumbai style! Every morning, before going in for my bath, I shut the door to my flattie's room so that he won't get disturbed (yes, I'm NICE!), switch the radio on LOUD, and jive to the beat. I carry my walkman with me in the cab to work, so I listen to the show till it ends at 11 am. My editor hates me for this, but she can't stop me, so THERE!


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