Get Haunted

Turning to jack-o-lanterns or to old raconteurs to miniate your Halloween is so passé; nowadays, it is all about the personal experience of feeling the first-hand-tickle of the paranormal world. Put on your plangent outfits and grab a handful of the thoroughly churned paranormal delicacies, like "Ghost Adventures," "Ghost Hunters" and many more, haunting the showtimes day and night. Switch on your television any time of the day, and you are sure to have the hell scared out of you. With the whole TRP world ready with first hand confirmation that the heretofore unknown, and, dare I say, unimportant, world of the dead is just a click away, you have no other option but to let your pavid hearts take the shock. Teeth into a few episodes of these paranormal soaps, and you will be convinced that death is not a simple finale anymore. Hang in there, baby, there is much more to come!

Now, touching the business of discovering ghosts and serving them up in a platter may seem to some folks as lusorious amusement; but it isn't that easy, I tell you. Ask Zak Bagans, the host of "Ghost Adventures," and this DJ-turned-ghost-hunter will tell you how difficult the process of rousing the dead is. They run around with their EVPs and EMF detectors and such sophisticated gadgets to catch that one snippet that might hit the skeptics squarely in the nose and end one and for all the argument for whether there is indeed life after death. Fully conversant with the life-style of the dead, Bagans and his gang have had such astounding experiences as being possessed by spirits and encountering half-cooked apparitions.  But isn’t being so close to the spirits stuck between the stages of afterlife dangerous? You bet it is, and that is why they do it; and that's why we watch them do it deriving voyeuristic fearful pleasure from their deadly encounters with the otherworld.

And how do the spirits feel about this infringement of their privacy? I wonder if they are thrilled by the newly earned stardom these paranormal shows have given them. Right now, from what we see in the television, they do not mind much this intrusion of the reality television into their nebulous lives. Perhaps they are as deluded as us; or are confused not knowing what to expect or deduce from these endless questionnaire sessions with the relentless paranormal investigators. May be, just like us, they experience short-lived distractions from these shows. Who knows?

Trick or treat ? -- Wish you a Happy Halloween!!

I just finished carving my first pumpkin. Initially, it took me a few hard stabs to get into the core; but then I did it. I guess the pent up energy and hibernating calories finally found one happy outlet. And here it is--drum roll, please--my happy--ee--lantern:

Wish you all a very Happy Halloween!!

Rain, rain, here you come-- A vlog

A rainy day in Nashville

Visiting the Mountain of the Moon in pen and paper, etc.

Bibhutibhusan Bandopadhyay and his Hemingway-styled narrative "Chander Pahar"-- a story that won him innumerable accolades from readers of all ages--is a complete life-enriching experience. It is a book in whose chapters you relieve history once written, probably in the medium glow of an evening lantern, by one of the greatest writers of all time. I never so much could find proper words to appreciate the story, and how I feel after every time I finish reading it. So, to taste this fascinating narrative down to the bones, I have decided to start translating it.  An official translation of the book does exist in the market; yet, it is more my personal initiative to pay this wonderful author my humble homage. I cannot tell you how amazing it felt when I found myself searching for the right words, losing myself in the labyrinth of plain Bengali colloquialisms, and ultimately, hitting on the right phrase and settling a puzzling sentence. I have never considered myself as a translator; but now I see that translating texts is as much fun as drooling over them. Since it all amounts to the same thing--writing for fun. As open-minded as I am today, I can tell you without the slightest doubt in my mind that I am unsuitable for the world. I dwell in my own secluded nook--which is currently the cemented floor of my patio--and fill page after page with absent minded eccentric thoughts. Yet, there is so much fun in the whole process that now I can say that I am ready to give up a prospective career just for the fun of writing. I haven't discovered the joys of writing in this crazy, open-hearted way before; and now, suddenly, I feel a door has opened up and I could see myself drawn out of the clichéd imago of life that we are all born to be either homemakers or semi-formal career ladies. Well, I frankly do not care how stupid people think I am becoming with every passing day because I have started living a part of my dream in my own daily life. Nowadays, I do nothing but wake up every morning and pen down the morning ramblings, then indulge in a jorum of mountain-high knowledge by reading some of my favorite authors, and then, after lunch, I get back to my own stories, as stupid as they are, I try to polish and edit them, after that, around evening, I finish my daily work and head with bull-eyed attention to the television set. Frankly, there is nothing extraordinary in the procession of events in my day, but I somehow feel life should be this way--natural and unsharpened. 

. Fall is in the air and the drying leaves and emaciating trees with almost-barren branches have become the pivotal point of my interest. I am thinking of grabbing a fair-sized pumpkin sometime this week and taking a thousand pictures of the tree just outside our apartment drooping under the weight of abundant yellow leaves.

 Everything looks so magical this time of the year. 

Anyways, so much for today; let the void prevail and let the ticking clock fill my life with the sweetest rhythm of the day:-)

Chao.

Movie Review: You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger

                                                  

Woody Allen's new movie "You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger" provides a much-needed respite to culture shocked movie goers trying their best to acclimate to the ever-changing social troposphere. In Woody's movie our over-strained nerves taste the smooth wine like richness of retrograded filmology where we enjoy the subtle background music and nod our heads to the character developments in the plot and say, "There, there…I believe you've got it." If you feel that films should be — vintage, old-timey, and pleasant, this icebox of shifting morals is sure to be your joy ride. What amazes me is that this cinema being so different from the snazzy "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" or the plump-plotted "Match Point" portrays Woody's creative abilities in the same no-nonsense level. Stripped off of much of the flamboyance and glamour of the last Woody Allen blockbuster, the new movie shows a side of Woody we haven’t much appreciated in the past—a calmer Woody with calmer judgment and nerves.

The story, which is no space-age unique, thrives in skillful character sketching brought to life by the amazing artistry of the pivotal actors cast in this creation. The narrative begins with Helena (Gemma Jones), a lovelorn heroine recently separated from her husband, Alfie (Anthony Hopkins) an old-youth who leaves her and marries a promiscuous deity turned stay-at-home pleasure packet, Charmaine (Lucy Punch), goes to a fortune-teller to know the possibilities of her future. Helena is an over-strained lump of emotion that thrives on self-blaming and has once tried to end it all. The clairvoyance of the prognostic, however, sees a roseate future for Helena along with a fair chance of meeting an interesting stranger. Meanwhile, Helena's daughter Sally (Naomi Watts) has her own battles to fight. Stuck in a frustrated marital bond with a slugabed writer of a husband, Sally feels incarcerated in her cluttered apartment, neck-deep in books and her husband's failed raconteuring attempts, and flirts with her art-gallery owner boss Greg (Antonio Banderas). Sally's husband, Roy (Josh Brolin), a cabby and an ex-medical student, sees himself more as a writer than a man of the world. Although after his one finished piece of art—a novel that has been his sole name-work till now, he has failed considerably in his attempts to weave up a story, he is hopeful with his latest fictional creation. He feels divinely linked with his muse — an esoteric creature in red, a lady who is the sum-total of all the perfection in humankind — now more than ever. This woman, a musical goddess called Dia (Frieda Pinto), gives Roy all the hope of a bright future and Roy caves in by divorcing his wife and deciding to marry her. Sally, on the other hand, sees her love life stuck in a dead zone when she discovers her suave superior having an affair with her friend. The story is stretched and the characters and sent to their extremes: Alfie finds out that a fallen woman is too hard to pet; Helena fights for love with a deceased competitor; Roy's new novel is rejected and he steals the lifework of his friend who has had an accident and is now in coma; Sully wants to start a new life but finds the renaissance a tad too hard on the pocket. As the plot reaches its crescendo, we see the ultimate truth of existence coming to life: despite our best efforts, all our life's establishments do not always bear fruit.

Close your critical eyes and dig in for the drama is my advice to you if you decide to head to the theater to scoop up this woody dish. Certain obviousness and loose ends might hit you in the face, yet you digest it all and try to get to the core. At certain points the plot appears too deliberate for even the charming Gemma Jones to pull it through. But love it or loathe it, it is the weary pointlessness of the whole creation that strikes an unusual chord in the illusion-inflicted flicker.

Like several of Woody Allen classics and failed attempts, we find in "You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger" the common Woody ingredients: a frustrated writer looking for a big break, ample promiscuity, loose morals, and a twist ending. In fact, this movie, like the others, has the same pale-eyed cynical outlook on life, although blanketed for easy swallowing. The exquisite playfulness of the theme gives the movie an unusual vim; however, you can't help feeling somewhat disappointed with the whole effort. Woody has masterfully strewn the bits, added variation, piquant moments, yet the overall dish is not as grand as you had expected it to be; especially after the rather Brobdingnagian success of his last effort. You feel the stellar cast is thoroughly wasted in this blunt drama. The movie seems such an anachronism in the 3D-flick enriched market, and that explains why our theater didn’t even have its name posted among the featured movies of the week. I cannot say if it is Helena's unshakable faith or the sheer emptiness and mortality envisaged in the scheme that got me through with it, but in the end I did come out of the theater feeling victorious gloating, once more, over Uncle Woody's comic appraisal of human life.