13 Reasons Why Not

To you who felt that the screams of your pain remained unheard,

And to you who needed a corpse to remember that you’re still alive,

Welcome to your tape…

Tape 1, Side A

I know life is not your favourite colour at the moment, and you are seeing everything in black and white, but honestly, even seeing things from just a black-and-white filter is better than being blind.

Personally, no colour will ever be brighter and purer than black and white. And black and white always merge to form shades of grey. It’s not easy recognizing people as warriors fighting a battle every single day, doing the best they can to not let their dark side overshadow their good, but everyone is a fighter. So are you! We’re all fighting battles every day. It’s alright if some days we don’t emerge as winners. Tomorrow we shall try again.

Tape 1, Side B

The world is not simple enough to just accommodate black, white and shades of grey. Everything began with a white palette and then you were handed the paint-brush. Even if you have lost sight of it, the paint-brush is still with you.

It’s still your life, your easel, your soul. Do it up with any and as many colours as you want! How you choose to paint your life is completely your choice!

Tape 2, Side A

Do you remember that clear night when you lay in bed and stared out of your window, gazing at the stars shining in the sky?  

Stars are nothing but carefully bandaged lights, aren’t they? Just mark all the memories that hurt you, so that they can become the stars that enchant you…

Tape 2, Side B

Stargazing in the city is a rare feat. Just paint your bedroom ceiling with the starry skies and the heavens above! You can then live under a dazzling sky every night.

Or just get out of your room and paint the town red. Red would suit the town more than your wrists, my love!

Tape 3, Side A

It’s alright to question. It’s alright to wonder. It’s okay to just talk. Shout if you must, scream if you need to, but please speak. I know you don’t want them to hear you, but there is always someone who’s ready to listen. There is always someone who’ll want to listen to you, not to a map of cassette tapes. You are more than a map of crisscrossed pain pathways. You are so much more than that!

Tape 3, Side B

I know you think that you are not enough. You feel you did not matter enough for them to save. No matter how hard you tried, you never were enough, even when you did your very best.

Guilt is not what you need to satiate, honey. You matter immensely. You are so much more than just ‘enough’.

Tape 4, Side A

We’ve all had some hot chocolate friends. And then there were the caffeine-addicts. You’ll also come across the white-collared whiskey-drinkers or the ones who are perennially on a juice-cleanse.

People come and go in pairs, threes, and fours, and so does pain. No one is meant to last forever. Even pain will not last forever.

Tape 4, Side B

Life is filled with joy and the chaos of happiness. Life is also sad from time to time. How else would we be able to appreciate the good times if we haven’t ever experienced anything bad?

Life’s a mixture of good and bad times. That’s just what life is. Life cannot be used as an excuse to not love yourself. Life cannot be used as an excuse to just give up.

Tape 5, Side A

Life is like a novel with many chapters. Some good, some bad. There are some great stories in the book of your life. Your laughter is like music to the ears, every time you speak, it’s like poetry oozing out of your mouth, your entire mind is a museum and every thought of yours is a work of art.

If only you saw yourself through my eyes…

Tape 5, Side B

You are so beautiful! Crimson love is present in your blood, and it is love that flows through your veins, making you the most loving person in the entire universe.

Your beautiful heart is like the crown jewel of your entire being treating everyone it meets with compassion and care. If only you could treat yourself with the same amount of love that you bestow on others…

Tape 6, Side A

You are like light. If you didn’t glow, darkness would engulf all in its path and instruct many to just live half-hearted lives.

Without your shine, they would be comatose; just lost in a world of life, a living grave of their childhood hopes and dreams. You are the light they need to let the night turn into day.

Tape 6, Side B

You are the light synonymous with life. It would be a shame if you would not love yourself for shining bright.

Go ahead. Radiate. You are not meant to burn.

Tape 7, Side A

You are meant to live another day, my dear light. I see you wandering at night staring at the stars. There is an unknown puzzle that you seek to solve, a journey that you hope to sight…Hiding from the day-star and only conversing with the moonlight, why do you not wait for dawn to arrive?

Let the Sun be proud of its progeny, after all?

Love,

Someone who genuinely believes you’re worth it. 

The Devastation

Do you remember the last time when you felt completely devastated? Last night? Or today at the breakfast-table? Or maybe during the last flight home? Did you feel like a colossal mess? Did you feel like killing yourself? Did you want to just fall asleep and never wake up?

I guess it happens to everyone. I know it happens to me, so I am sure it must be happening to you as well. Please don’t make me feel alone by letting me believe that I am the only one who goes through this…It’s alright. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

We all die a little every day – you’ll realize that when you walk into a corporate office and see people who, as kids, dreamed of being astronauts, writers and musicians are stuck in the monotonous, boring 9 to 5 jobs. We all kill a little every day; and sometimes we just assist others in the killing process. How many times have you crushed the dreams of your loved ones by telling them they are unachievable just because you meant well, and wanted to save them from failure? It’s alright. Don’t feel guilty about being a killer, and don’t feel hurt because you’ve been a victim. Dying is an indispensable part of life, as is causing death.

Just go for it. Buy that dress even if it shows your less flattering curves. So what if you feel that you look ugly just because you have those few extra pounds? Go finish that half-read novel. So what if you get dark circles? Go order the extra toppings on your pizza. So what if you’re broke? Go sing that song aloud. So what if you’ve got a terrible voice? Because what if that part of you that’s living today dies tomorrow?

Today was a bad day. But tomorrow will be better. How do I know? Because I like to believe that whatever happens, happens for a reason. And things will be the way they are meant to be. Go cry your heart out. No one is judging you. Or maybe they are, but do their judgments really matter? You know they don’t! Go send that reckless text. No one’s stopping you. It may all be for nothing, but at least you got what you needed to out of your system. Go walk that extra mile because you are only what you think of yourself to be. Don’t let others’ opinions of you stop you from advancing towards your goals.

So, when was the last time you felt completely devastated? Today? Yesterday? During that last conversation? It doesn’t matter. You’re going to feel devastated yet again. There are so many times when I’ve felt that things could not get any worse, but they actually have! And, I also remember times when I thought the future was absolutely bleak and hopeless, but things suddenly changed for the better. You’re going to die yet again. You’re going to kill yet again. Some dreams need to die, and all wishes need not come true. Some experiences will force you to kill certain bits of you, but never kill the parts of you that you cannot live without. Devastated is beautiful; because the last time I checked, broken crayons still colour. 

Pieces

She sits down on the floor and makes no move. She sits and does nothing. She knows she wants to think, but she just can’t. She has been paralyzed, but with what?  The blade goes back and forth, back and forth. Back and forth, it makes a sound, almost like some melody. It hurts. It pains and pains. It pains a lot. She smiles. She keeps feeling the pain, and the pain keeps intensifying. She laughs.

Her entire room is dark. She has been sitting down far too long. Today’s the day, she decides. She thinks that this is it. Today is the day. And then, it suddenly stops. No more sound, no more melody. There is red around her…Staining red…But she is still able to get up. Her wrist oozes the most stunning vibrant red, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. Turns out today wasn’t the day after all…

She gets up from the floor as the sunlight falls on her face almost mocking her existence. With a smile, she covers her face, and with a long-sleeved kurta, her scars and steps out to brave yet another day.

There’s something about her, something that’s strange, and something that’s unique. She does not appear broken, but he can hear the shrill cries inside her. She seems strong, she seems happy, but he can see the numbness in her eyes, and hear the pain in her voice. She’s probably made a deal with her demons, and yes, they have left her alone, but he realizes they took something with them in exchange – a part of her soul. Each time, she feels love, the crater in her soul longs to be filled.

Nobody ever sees her for what she is. No one misses a part of her. But, there are times, when she does miss some old part of herself. He notices her looking around for pieces. He wishes he could paste them back. Tiny pieces that may seem insignificant to the world, but they still belong to her, and she wants them because they are hers to take back, hers to place back. There are moments when she stands to search for them and place them back, and then the reality hits her, and it hits him too with harder force. He can see the pain behind those gorgeous eyes of hers. He wants to be there to fill in the blank spaces that she leaves behind every time she walks. He wants to be the shine of her eyes, the strength of her voice, and the reason for her happiness.

He wants her to feel loved, to feel happy from within, and become the symbol of hope and tranquillity that she is capable of becoming. He sees her for what she is – someone born to lead, not to lurk in the shadows. She is a being of purity and integrity.

He knows that she can cradle the existence of this small world of theirs one day, but today, he lets himself be consumed to bring light upon her so that she herself is able to shine one day. He knows that by doing so, he’ll be losing a part of himself, but for her, it will be totally worth it. 

Chrysalis

Don’t we all love butterflies? Well, maybe not all – I know my brother was scared of butterflies as a kid (yes, laugh all you want!) – but I’ve always been inspired by them to a huge extent. The first tattoo I got was of a butterfly…

I really feel that Nature is the best teacher. I mean – look at the butterflies! Magnificently hued and the objects of everyone’s envy! But then again, I wonder: what do we envy? We envy their beauty, we envy the fact that they blossomed from relatively ugly, green caterpillars to luminescent self-propelled flowers, if I may put it that way, and we envy everything we cannot be and cannot do. Human nature…

Just some time ago, while reading random facts online, I found out that butterflies have short life-spans. Yes, the longest may be a year, but their average life-span is a mere five days to two weeks. When I read this, I remember thinking to myself that this was yet another example of the law of impermanence in life. Nothing lasts forever. Now, that is both good news and bad news. What really was the point of being so beautiful if your life was merely fourteen days long, at the very best? Ironically, two weeks later, I got the answer to my question. Mother Nature’s mysterious ways cannot be undone; these fractals of our amazing world are here to inspire all of us, if only we paid a little more attention.

The butterfly counts not the days or weeks it has, but the moments it has, and that is time enough…

Today a caterpillar, tomorrow a butterfly. We should never lose hope of what tomorrow might bring. Despite all the heartache, sorrow, pain and insecurities, we are all butterflies waiting to happen. Just when the caterpillar thought life was over, cocooned in darkness and misery, it transformed into a butterfly.

The caterpillar thought, “It is the end of the world.”
The butterfly realized, “It is the beginning of the world.”

The struggles, the battles you fight today, prepare you for tomorrow. They help you develop the strength and make you realize that you need to fly. You might feel that you are about to fall, but butterflies can’t see their wings, can they? They can’t see how beautiful they are, but people around them can. People are like that. We really are butterflies waiting to happen. People are like butterflies and the world is our chrysalis.

A month ago, I found a dead butterfly. It’s not the most common sight. Incandescent green wings, unimaginably beautiful…Dead…It really is not every day that you find a dead butterfly. Until I held it in my hands, its frayed wings, I could have lived in the bubble that butterflies are fairies that come out of nowhere, entertain us with their beauty and disappear into nothingness soon thereafter. But no life is unfair…and fair: an integration of happiness and sadness; change. Change is the only constant. And probably, that is the biggest lesson we can learn from a butterfly.

If nothing ever changed, there would be no butterflies. If nothing ever changed, clear, blue skies would not follow storms. If nothing ever changed, life would have no meaning.

Just like the butterflies, we will awaken in our own time. We really are just butterflies waiting to happen…

Movie Review: Chotushkone (Bengali)

This weekend, I happened to watch one of Srijit Mukherji's movie, Chotushkone. Even though the movie released last year, I just felt the need to review it for it's been long since I watched an Indian movie that breaks the conventional style of story-telling.

You know the movie is going to be gripping when the first scene of the movie begins with a woman writing a suicide-note stating that no one is responsible for her death and then scratching out the 'no one is responsible' part. The premise of the film seems simple at first: four directors are on their way to meet a producer who has agreed to make a film featuring four stories directed by them. Each of their stories, however, must represent 'death' as a theme in some way or the other. These four directors, Trina, Joy, Sakyo and Dipto are familiar with each other, and as the story progresses, their past is discussed and several disclosures come to light.

Even though 'chotushkone' actually means a quadrangle, I liked the way Mukherji deconstructs this structure, first, as a triangle, and revealing the fourth side only towards the end. I will take the risk of not saying anymore about the plot for I do not wish to give the story away. Chotushkone  takes the audience on a bumpy ride with constant flashbacks merging with the present day. The plot is extremely layered with many twists and turns, but one criticism that I do have is that I feel Mukherji gave the climax away a little, say about five to ten minutes, early. Also, some of the sub-plots could have been fleshed out more. Out of the stories of the four directors, I particularly enjoyed Trina's story the most.

The music is melodious and refreshing. I particularly loved the song Bawshonto Eshe Geche. 

The cinematography is brilliant with the film being shot in five different tones. Srijit Mukherji's brilliant story is supported by a stellar cast comprising of Aparna Sen, Parambrata Chatterjee, Goutam Ghosh and Chiranjit Chakraborty.

I would recommend this movie to everyone. It is an uplifting ode to Bengali cinema that breaks conventional styles of storytelling and is bound to keep you entertained. Looking forward to watching more movies from Srijit Mukherji. He is definitely one to watch out for!

The Absent Friend

Every morning as I rushed out of the house, I always saw her lying in her self-designated spot with eyes only half-open. She enjoyed a lazy morning and rarely stirred. Initially, as I passed her by, she would look up expectantly, hoping to be patted. On most days, she would face disappointment because I, usually running late to work, could not afford to waste an additional five seconds to pat her and go. On the few days that I did manage to find the time to pet her, she would get a wee bit more demanding and want to be stroked all over. She would then follow me till the end of the gate where she would stare at me with a forlorn gaze as I left her behind and headed towards the station.

She had been living in the compound for many years and had befriended all the small children and the watchmen. Everyone called her 'Bubbly'. Our compound has many dog-lovers and she was always well-fed. Every evening when I returned home, she would again be lying in the compound treating herself to a siesta after eating a heavy, hearty meal.

It was in the night-time that she was quite active. Whenever I returned home late, she would nicely be taking a stroll in the compound. Her presence made me feel safe.

There were occasions when she did venture outside to meet some of her other friends. There was a black and white dog who often visited her, but she was very possessive when it came to the sharing of attention! I remember playing with her black-and-white friend on a couple of occasions but if I dared to first pet her friend rather than her, the jealous dog would snarl, growl and chase her friend away!

Once, the watchmen had adopted a small kitten that had been abandoned by its mother, and they were looking after her. The poor kitten was missing one leg and half a tail. I had always heard that cats and dogs can never be friends but Bubbly, to my surprise, welcomed the little one and had no qualms in sharing her relaxation-spot with her. Of course, the only time she threw tantrums was if I ended up playing with the kitten before greeting her. Oh, how she would sulk!

On some particular nights, Bubbly would allow me to feed her biscuits. Such times were rare as she used to be usually full. But it was funny to see her jumping to eat those biscuits just because she knew that if she refused, I would offer them to the kitten who I had affectionately named Beraal!

Bubbly had been missing for quite some days. There had been episodes in the past where she went into hiding for quite a while and suddenly resurfaced so I did not read much into her disappearance. But, after a while, her absence became more pronounced. It had been more than ten days since I saw Bubbly. Finally, after a conversation with a watchman, I remembered how dogs run away from their homes when they know that their end is near; and I realized, with a lump in my throat, that my Bubbles was no more.

I knew she was quite old, but I wish she had been around longer. Whenever I felt upset, I would just take a walk down my building and play with her. She was intuitive and seemed to know when something was bothering me - on those occasions, she would be more playful than normal; and spending time with her caused my troubles to evaporate for that brief moment. I miss her. I wish I had got a chance to say a proper good-bye. After all, she was the pet I never had. I just hope my memories are enough to keep her alive...

Hanging By A Thread

"If you were watching a movie and found that it was utterly ridiculous, would you judge someone for leaving the theatre in the middle?" she asked.
"Of course not," he replied. "In fact if the movie was really bad, I'd walk out myself and judge those people who remained inside!"
"Then, why do we judge those who choose to commit suicide because they find life unbearable?"

At that time, he had not answered her question. But today, as he stared at the lifeless body in front of him, he thought about all the conversations they had had. And about the ones they hadn't.

Days passed and turned into months. But he was still woken up every night by her dreams. It didn't matter whether they were good or bad, because they hurt all the same. People still asked him about her. Few asked him what it was like without her. He never knew how to respond to those questions. Going through life without her was not something he had wanted to do. He had never wanted to live without her. And without her, he wasn't really living...

She was the person who'd made his life wonderful. The guilt that he had failed to do the same for her plagued him mentally and emotionally. When someone leaves the way she did, everyone wants to point a finger. Everyone wants to know why. And she didn't leave a "why" because she left behind no note. It was in her nature to leave things unsaid.

He often blamed himself for her death. Well-wishers told him that it wasn't his fault but he knew it was. He knew he could have told her to hang in there but he didn't. He wished he could apologize to her - tell her that he was sorry for not being able to help her. Perhaps, that would take the guilt away. But she was not in front of him and he was tired of speaking to her imaginary spirit.

He felt that his life had lost all meaning and purpose. He was doing nothing constructive. Sometimes, while driving his car, he wondered how easy it would be to just lose control. He stared at the sleeping-pills his father took every night and wondered how many it would take. It would be so easy for him to end things the way she had. But then, he wouldn't want to make anyone in the world feel the way he had felt after her untimely death. He realized that he needed to hold on just to make life bearable for himself and for those around him. She was gone and while he would never forget her, he realized he would also have to remember his old self that he had forgotten, somewhere along the way. Even though he felt dead, in actuality, he was not. He would have to move on because life (with or without her) was all about learning, loving and being alive.

Regret

Her head was spinning with endless questions. She wished she could stop the destructive thoughts flooding her head but she wasn't powerful enough. Never in her life had she felt more alone than she did at that particular moment.
She wished she had someone to tell her that they cared. She wanted someone around because she needed a friend; someone who would have the sense to tell her that she was not alone...Someone who would tell her that they knew how it felt to be lonely in a crowd. There was more to life than living, there was beauty and real joy and she wished there were people around to protect her from the hurt that she experienced...
The pain was too much to bear. As she dug the blade of the knife on to her skin, she kept wishing till that very moment when she breathed her last that someone would call her, just say "hello", laugh with her and share those things with her that she had been forced to face alone all this while. She wished she had been brave enough to talk about the way things were - and she ardently wished someone would have told her to take things easy, how close they had come themselves and how lovingly they had been sheltered...
Things could have been alright. But it was too late now. Unable to seek help and unable to endure her suffering, she murdered herself with the hope that it would take her to a better place.

He was home when he received the phone call informing him that she had ended things...The news shocked him beyond belief. She had not left any note - this bit of information did not surprise him. She had a habit of leaving things unsaid. He couldn't really blame her. This was something she had picked up from him - but at that moment, he couldn't help repenting the fact that she was not in front of him for him to say the things he wanted to say to her.
He wished he could have talked to her about the seriousness of her problems. He knew she rarely opened up to people but perhaps if he had persisted, she would have told him what she was going through. He wished she would have let him have a bigger role in the story of her life. He wished he could tell her that he knew what it was like to wake up in the morning and feel that life is completely meaningless. Even if she wasn't in a mood to listen, he wished they could have sat together in silence until that insight dawned on both of them that life wasn't so bad after all...
He wished he could tell her all the things he had kept away from her...She would scold him for keeping secrets but maybe then they could get to talk about things she had kept away from him, like the fact that she was dying on the inside the whole time.
He wished he could tell her all the wonderful things he loved about her. With no care of the world, he loved the way she always spoke her mind and did what she wanted to do. Always caring more about others than herself, he knew she had not shared her problems with anyone because she would not have wanted to burden them with her troubles. Now the only burden people carried was the knowledge that she had suffered so much, until she could take it no more.
He wished he could tell her that he loved her and that he would always love  her. He knew that without her, his life would never be the same. But it was too late now to do anything...All he could do was live with the regret that he could not save her...

Suicide is a dark word. It stole her from him. They could have grown close, helped each other...But just because he did not realize that he could make a difference, he actually didn't.

Living

We all talk about living life to the fullest and enjoying each and every moment that life has to offer. But what do you make of days that just pass by as if they are already dead by the time you begin to experience them? What do you make of those experiences? Do they just disappear from your universe simply because you did not take the trouble of registering them?

None of us succeed in remembering each and every detail of the things that happen to us. If something is forgotten, does that mean it has ceased to exist? What happens to people who suffer from Alzheimer’s and cannot remember what happened just a while ago? I find it very difficult to put myself in their shoes. If I woke up one day and did not know who I was, I cannot even fathom how I would feel. Would it mean that my life-time has just gone by silently, crawling away from my memory and leaving nothing but traces of anxiety buried within me? If that happened, would my life-time be measured simply on account of the anxiety that I will, then, harbour?

These days, I find myself becoming a rather passive observer. I don’t really desire life but I definitely have no wish for death. It upsets me that I have no other option – in a world where one is always spoilt for choice, having just two alternatives does not feel good. There are many things that I still wish to do but none accommodated by either one of those choices.

People sometimes feel I over-think. These days, I feel I just cannot think anymore – if I do, my head will explode! I feel my thoughts are held at gun-point to live and breathe as if they wish to survive. Sometimes I feel as if my thoughts have disowned me and I am left with no memory. I only have everything that has been forgotten and each day, I am struggling to live this forgotten life that seems to be whispering to me in an undead manner through words that keep running away from me the moment I choose to speak them out.

Silent Screams

She was a believer. No matter how bleak things appeared to be, she never lost hope; and in the end, everything did become alright again. So, there really was no need of her to question faith. Yet, these days, there were too many questions arising in her mind. Some of the questions seemed ridiculous; others she felt were valid. Each question that was raised weighed her down – she did not have answers to these questions and that made her uneasy. She felt stuck in a rut, unable to move. The unpleasant feeling tied her down as if her entire body was bound by heavy, sturdy, iron chains.

Why was it so difficult? If she had managed to arrive at the question, why was the answer so far away? Each day, she grew increasingly restless. Was this just a phase? Would it ever pass? Why was nothing happening? When would it end? Was she just wasting her time or was there a possibility of something good coming out of all this? She desperately needed answers.

She had smoothly flowed along the course of life. She had graciously accepted everything that life brought her way overlooking all flaws and seeing only what was good. She used to proudly proclaim that her life was perfect despite the presence of some imperfections. Where had she gone wrong? Was it not right on her part to ignore faults and just appreciate people for their goodness? She had never seen it as a conscious effort. It was something that came naturally to her. Why was it suddenly such a difficult task? She was known to be a motor-mouth. There were days when people wondered if she ever paused to even take a breath. But, all of a sudden, why was she tongue-tied? Where had her voice disappeared? She felt like a stranger among familiar faces. Her mind was like a volcano almost at the brink of bursting with a lava of questions but it just could not find an outlet to erupt. Every day, she was screaming in rooms filled with people who were seemingly deaf for no one took any notice.

She started questioning everything. Doubts emerged. She became frustrated. A few noticed that things were not as they usually were as far as she was concerned – they asked her what was wrong. Finally! Finally, people were starting to notice the change! She was delighted! She was ecstatic! She had a wide smile on her face – the time had now come for her to open her mouth. But alas! No sound came. She had become so accustomed to not being heard that she had ended up losing her ability of speech. She stared sadly at the inquisitive faces and just shrugged her shoulders. “It’s nothing,” she said in a dismissive tone, “I’m alright.” The people believed her. No one saw the fast pace with which she pranced, rapidly blinking away the tears that were now brimming in her eyes. Even if they did, they did not give it a second thought. Time is precious – why waste it fretting over an individual who doesn't cry for attention? The world is kind to just attention-seekers.

She gave up and resigned to her fate. She decided to stop speaking altogether – if she never asked questions, the disappointment of not receiving an answer would not haunt her. She was a victim and her silence played the part of rescuing the very world that had victimized her. In some way, the silence was also protecting her – shielding her from possible answers that she may receive but not like. She was being held hostage by her rickety belief-systems and was restricted from taking any action. Was there someone out there who could still hear and rescue her from this mess? She needed help even though she did not know how to ask for it. Was there anyone who could feel her pain and lend a hand?

Someone heard her. Not all was lost. One day, along came her friend, Death, to take her; and she gladly went with Him – after all, Life had betrayed her by not showing her the silver lining and leaving her alone. In the midst of her darkest hours of despair, she gladly embraced the company of Death and went with Him away from all her miseries, finally at peace. 

Before Sunrise | Before Sunset | Before Midnight |

Spoiler Alert: This post is about my thoughts on the movies, “Before Sunrise”, “Before Sunset” and “Before Midnight” and it is, unfortunately, not free of spoilers.

Eighteen years ago, on a train-ride starting from Budapest, two people from very different worlds – Jesse (played by Ethan Hawke) and Celine (played by Julie Delpy) – met one another. Even though the movie, Before Sunrise, was released in 1995, I saw this movie, years later, and I was completely floored! I raved about it to everyone I knew, even stating that it is “one of the best films ever made!” Knowing that I have low tolerance for uniform superlatives like “the greatest this” or “the worst that”, some of my friends were rather intrigued. They asked me to tell them more about the film in terms of the plot. Usually this is an easy question to answer; however, how do you get someone hooked to a movie simply by telling them it is a film essentially about two people just walking around and talking to one another? Yes, Before Sunrise is a movie about two people talking but I don’t really mind that because the conversations are stimulating, thought-provoking, engaging and allow you to know more about the protagonists in terms of how they see themselves, each other and the world.

For many cynics, a chance train-ride leading two strangers to form an instant connection powerful enough to motivate them to disembark in Vienna and spend time with each other until the next morning may seem to be too magical a fantasy to actually come true in real life. Yet this is exactly what happens in Before Sunrise and the powerful performances of the cast and the ease with which they converse with one another makes it absolutely believable. The characters are regular people – Jesse is an American with a Eurail pass on his way to Vienna to catch a flight back home. Celine is a French student on her way back to Paris. Their conversations are exactly the sort you would have with anybody any day –childhood, parents, former relationships, music and arbitrary philosophical stuff. The sexual attraction is obvious but it is handled with great care and patience. I like the way that their short stay in Vienna is not presented as a travelogue but as a series of meetings with amateur actors, fortune-tellers and street-poets. The tourist-sites are not emphasized; instead, they are seen inside a music-store, spending time in a church, going to a grave-yard, and drinking wine in a random park. The movie ends with them at the railway station the next morning making a pact to meet six months later at the same place without exchanging any contact information.

Before Sunset released in 2004. Fortunately, I had watched the first film in 2008 and I did not have to wait nine years for the next release – I saw it immediately.
Before Sunset is set in real time i.e. nine years after the two characters had first met. Jesse is in Paris on a book-tour – his novel, This Time, which he wrote, inspired by his time with Celine, is an American bestseller. Celine happens to be in the same book-store. In the beginning, itself, they broach the subject on why they did not meet after six months – it turns out that Jesse had come but the sudden demise of Celine’s grandmother made it impossible for her to make it. Since they had no contact information, there was no way of getting in touch. Jesse has a flight to catch the same evening and so they utilize the rest of the afternoon catching up with one another. While they continue to talk about environmental concerns, violence in third-world countries and religion, through their conversations, we also learn what has happened in their lives since their first meeting. Both are in their early-thirties and are dissatisfied with life in varying degrees. Jesse is married and has a son but he does not really love his wife. Celine is dissatisfied because her current boyfriend, a photojournalist, is not around as often as she would like him to be. The connection that they had with each other still holds and as the movie progresses, you can see the fumes of passion getting rekindled with whiffs of tension; especially when Jesse reveals that he wrote the book with the hope that he would find her someday and Celine replies that reading the book brought back painful memories for her. The movie ends with both of them arriving at Celine’s apartment and Celine playfully telling Jesse, “Baby, you are gonna miss that plane!” and Jesse smiles nervously, fidgeting with his wedding-ring, and replies, “Yes”.

If Before Sunrise painted before you a simple picture of ideal romance between two dreamy youngsters who meet, fall in love, and are very hopeful and enthusiastic about the future, Before Sunset, to some extent, is heart-breaking as you re-visit these characters who are now more grownup and somewhat jaded by their life-experiences. It brings you closer to reality and the picture that the first movie painted does not appear so beautiful anymore.
Being a fan of happy endings, I was somewhat disappointed when I learned, in the beginning of the movie, that Jesse and Celine never met after six months. However, I hoped that the second movie would show them having a happy ending. The abrupt end of the second movie seemed unfair to me! I hated the fact that it just left me hanging! I wanted to know whether they actually ended up being together “happily ever after” or were there going to be more twists to this romantic saga.

The wait ended when Before Midnight released this year. I was extremely upset when I found that this movie was not releasing in India. However, I watched it yesterday. Jesse and Celine are now middle-aged. They have two beautiful daughters who are twins. The movie begins with Jesse bidding farewell to his son from his previous marriage and is unhappy to see him go. The air of tension is evident throughout the film and you can see the cracks beginning to surface in the relationship between Jesse and Celine. The film exquisitely depicts a day in the life of the couple and you can see how the years of togetherness has brought into their lives a fair share of conflicts along with love. The couple is not just quarrelling over every day things like, for example, the fact that he does not shave; but it is quite apparent that the couple has genuine issues lurking beneath the surface of their fairylike relationship. As the story progresses, one can see that Jesse’s humour is a mask to hide the serious problems in their marriage while Celine’s assertiveness and strong-headedness are triggers for unpleasant confrontations. They still talk a lot, argue even more, sometimes are exasperated with each other  – in other words, they are everything a real couple is in today’s times; and like regular couples, they too sometimes fail to re-create the magic of their past romance despite good intentions. In every relationship, once the newness wears away, one is exposed to a lot of sides of the partner which one may not necessarily like. While acceptance is the key, a lot of us try changing some things about our partner and do whatever we can to make things work for us in the best way possible. Jesse and Celine are no different. They are still fond of each other but the spark that was so apparent in their years of courtship is dwindling with intrusions of reality in their relationship in the form of ambition, parenthood and work. One thing that really struck me while watching the third movie is how convenient the internet has made things – at a lunch-table, a young couple tells Jesse and Celine how they maintain a long-distance relationship through Skype. The subtext, here, questions whether a situation like Jesse and Celine’s would be possible today in an era where communication technology is so pervasive.

The three films, when seen together, beautifully depict how our shared connections just seem to bounce back and forth with the passage of time – it is a rare, beautiful yet real experience. In the first film, the couple largely talks of the future; in the second, they are focusing on the present; and in the final movie, Jesse and Celine are seen reflecting on the past and how their lives have turned out to be since their first meeting. You can actually see how a couple progresses in a relationship and how one advances and alters from one stage in life to the next. Before Sunrise is about the idealism of romance, Before Sunset grounds Jesse and Celine’s love as a decision they both have to make while Before Midnight is about the consequence of these choices. All the three films depict the protagonists trying to control the flow of life, attempting to find the meaning of their existence and struggling to keep their anxieties at bay through their words and actions. The most interesting feature of the Before trilogy is its focus on real-time – the gaps between when the films are released (1995, 2004 and 2013) are reflected in the characters’ ages in the movie. A part of me hopes that another sequel releases in 2022 – after all Jesse and Celine’s love-story only seems to grow better with age - but only time will tell if my prayers are answered! 

Leaving Crossroads

He was a silent worker who always kept to himself. His reclusive and lonesome nature was one of the many objects of interest for most of his co-workers.
She used to chatter away to glory with anybody who as much as looked in her direction. She was the life of many parties. People were mesmerized by her charms and mannerisms but she did not seem impressed by anybody.

It was a typical Monday morning for everyone at work. Almost all the people were cribbing about returning to work after having “so much fun” during the weekend. It wasn't just another day for him. It was that day of the year when he had turned a year older. As he entered office and walked towards his cubicle, not one head glanced in his direction. He was hardly a prominent figure – no one noticed his presence nor missed his absence. He sat at his desk and switched on the computer. He, suddenly, noticed a note on his bulletin-board. It simply read “Happy Birthday”. He recognized the handwriting. It was from her.
The whole day she was busy with presentations. He managed to catch hold of her at lunch-time. “Thank you,” he said. “But how did you know it was my birthday?”
She flashed her million-dollar smile, “I keep a list of everyone’s date of birth so that I don’t forget to wish them! Birthdays are important, don’t you think?”
She walked away without really waiting for a response. He watched her go, baffled by the ease and comfort with which she did things. No one would believe that this was just her first month at work.

After this incident, their interactions increased. He found that he could talk to her about anything. His evenings were no longer spent doing over-time and his weekends were never spent alone at home.
She gave up being a people’s person and settled for a small group of close-knit friends.

They were inseparable. They completed each other’s sentences. One knew what was on the other’s mind even before words were spoken. 

People talked about them. People made up stories. 

This did not bother them. If anything, it was nothing less than a source of entertainment for them!

After some time, he quit the organization to pursue what he felt was his “real calling”. She stayed on only to join him later, after some months. This move was in “their” best interest. Distance was not doing their relationship any good.  It wasn't what her heart wanted but she did not want to disappoint him. He needed her just as she needed him, she told herself.
He hated it when she used to prioritize work over spending time with him. It tore her heart to a million shreds when she found him choosing the company of other people before her. Something was amiss and it was now time to strike a compromise.
She gave up her passion to help him follow his path of dreams. She plunged herself in darkness in the hope of showing him the light.

As time passed, it became clear to her that it was all futile. He did not need her. She decided to go back to her old life. But going back isn't as simple as it seems to be. Retracing one’s steps does not mean that one manages to restore themselves back to their old selves in a complete manner. She found that she could just not force herself to be the person she used to be. She no longer craved company – she did not like having people around. They annoyed her. She immersed herself in work but her zeal had vanished. She was just not as good as she used to be at one point of time. She felt that her parts had gone rusty. Each day, she was dying a slow, painful death. She wanted to run away but she had no place to go. She did not even know who or what she was running away from. In the end, she settled for a life of mediocrity. She was with people but felt alone all the time. People are, after all, no substitute for the emptiness one feels within.
He became extremely successful in his new field and stood on top of the ladder of success. People looked up to him in awe. He had everything in life. He was content, blissfully and conveniently unaware of the damage he had caused, perhaps unintentionally, to someone who, once upon a time, was his closest friend. It was alone up there but he wasn't lonely. After all, he had always enjoyed his own company.

They had crossed paths but their destinations were different. He wanted to be like the Pole Star, the brightest star in the northern sky.
She wanted to burst like a star and dissolve like a handful of glitter into the universe to give herself back to where she came from...

The Redemption (Flash Fiction)

She always looked like a picture of happiness. No matter how bad the day was going, she always had a radiant smile pasted on her face. With her incessant candid chatter, she always amused her colleagues and friends. You could have a dialogue with her on any topic under the sun. It did not matter that she was not interested in politics or current affairs. She could still weave a conversation with the inputs you gave her. She rambled about the weather; she discussed movies and books; she could lecture you on any topic pertaining to philosophy or the behavioural sciences. However, when it came to talking about her personal life, she always remained silent. So engrossed were people in catching up with her lively chatter that this significant aspect remained hidden from their view.

She was a strong woman. She treated the thoughts in her head in the same manner as she treated the bruises on her body – she concealed them successfully from the eyes of the world and grinned at her wonderful accomplishment. With time, the bruises increased. So did the intensity of the thoughts she swallowed. Suppressed thoughts, however, have a tendency to gestate; and over a period of time, they grow into something else. She got tired of paying the price. She started harbouring bitterness towards herself and for her victim position.  She tried in vain to mutate these thoughts into something beautiful. As she hid more and more, she found herself forgetting who she was and she was gradually getting lost.

A fire was raging inside her and she needed to do something to extinguish the hell that was burning her insides. She dug the blade on to her skin and watched it peeling off all vulnerabilities – of pain, of pleasure, of life, of death – with a broken smile on her face. She did not flinch and she did not scream. With each drop of blood that fell, she felt her tainted soul getting more and more purified.

They found her body the next day. Even her lifeless body exuded a portrait of serenity. Why wouldn’t it? She had successfully managed to escape the agony that had been eating her inside. Her soul, now repaired of its ugly marks of pain, had successfully renounced the physical body and was already on its way to a new and, hopefully, better destination.

The Other Side (Flash Fiction)

He was quite groggy in the morning when he got up. Last night, the farewell-party had lasted too long. Although sleep-deprived, his spirits were high at the thought of the new job in a foreign country with the love of his life by his side. Life just could not get any better than this! He got into a taxi and headed for the airport. He did not know when he dozed off but he woke up to the sound of blaring horns. A crowd of people were gathered at a little distance away from him. He could also see an ambulance parked. He wondered how he had landed on the road. Without looking behind, he tried making his way through the crowd. They had surrounded a broken down taxi. The bonnet of the car was smashed and the bumpers were off. A taxi-driver lay dead on the ground. He recognized the driver – it was the same man who was driving him to the airport. He overheard the conversation of the people – there had been a terrible accident; both, the driver and passenger had died on the spot. He turned around to look at the passenger and was shocked to see his own body lying on the ground. He realized that the people could not see him, hear him or sense him. Surely this wasn’t real! He could not be dead!

As she waited for him at the airport, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach, fluttering around with excitement. The future that she had always anticipated was soon going to turn into reality. Her knight in shining armour, who had already swept her off her feet, was finally taking her away from home so that the two of them could begin a new chapter of life together. As the thought that she was leaving everything that she knew behind crossed her mind, her heart started feeling heavy. Letting go is never easy even if one knows for certain that a better life lies ahead…Giving up on things with which one is familiar is difficult, even if it causes one pain, because no fear is greater than the fear of the strange and the unknown. The idea of leaving behind her nagging parents that had initially seemed welcoming was now pricking her. What if the feeling of being alone appeared and started biting her? She quickly tried dismissing those thoughts. She knew that she wasn’t alone. He would always be there to hold her hand. A smile appeared on her face and her eyes lit up at the thought of him. Even if she was being invaded by feelings of emptiness and barrenness, his love would shower her, once again, with fulfillment and contentment.

His soul found her still at the airport. There was a crease of worry on her forehead and a frown on her face as she repeatedly dialled his number and found his phone not available. He wanted to speak to her but she could not hear the sound of his voice. He was a rain-cloud, held back behind the mountain of doom. She was a desert, aching for his touch, on just the other side…

Freedom (Flash Fiction)

“She is stunning,” he thought as he looked at her intently. “Bright blue eyes, rosy cheeks, luscious lips…She could get anyone!” He remembered the large swarm of boys in his class who had had a crush on her. She wasn't a head turner but she was the cute girl next door with whom every guy wanted to be; and of all the men standing in line to be with her, she had chosen a brat like him to spend the rest of her life. She wanted his love, care and attention. He bestowed upon her insults, injuries and rebukes. Finally she could take it no more and decided to walk out of this loveless marriage. She wanted to be free. He granted her wish. He could see what he had done to her. Her rosy cheeks had become pale. Her luscious red lips were dry and her bright eyes had lost their luster.  In the spur of a moment, he raised the knife and dug the blade into her back. She gasped with her eyes wide open as she was released from her suffocated existence. He bent down to close her eyes. She had always believed in the best of everyone yet she had experienced the worst for herself. He had murdered her today but he had raped her dreams and her life long ago. Each day, a part of her was dying a tiny death. Today, he had ended it once and for all. He wiped a tear that was about to surface on his face. With a grim look, he dropped the knife. Without giving her another glance, he just walked away from the house, now, in search of his own freedom. 

Write Your Own Epitaph!

"If you were to die today, what would you want written on your epitaph?"

The first time I was asked this question, I was a little startled. I am just 22 years old, perfectly hale and hearty and I still have many years to go before I can think of dying! But then, Death does not visit only those who are sick and old. There are times when you can be busy carrying out the activities of your daily life when Death can creep up stealthily from behind and take you along with Him...

No matter how young you are, you always have the potential to achieve great things! Looking back on my life, I wish to have lived a life with no regrets. If I were to die today, I don't want to regret the fact that I was not able to do the things I wanted to do because I was busy with the mundane tasks of the day! I want to live life to the fullest. I don't want to keep making bucket-lists of things I want to do and end up doing nothing because I am waiting for the right time...I believe in seizing every opportunity that comes my way and making use of it to gather new experiences!

The one reason I fear death is because I fear oblivion! I don't want to be forgotten. Even if I die, I want people to remember me for certain unique qualities.
At the same time, if a stranger comes across my grave, I don't want him or her to merely read:

Divya Srivastava

1989-2012

Even if the person did not know me at all, I wish that he or she would get to know me a little better by reading what is inscribed on my grave-stone. I strongly believe that Death is not the opposite of life but it is the opposite of birth. Life is eternal. Death, according to me, is merely an event that marks a transition between incarnations. When our soul is born, it travels from one body to another depending on the soul's karmic requirements. On my epitaph, therefore, I would want written:

" She is a part of life
 But not just a tiny bit;
 She is life itself -
 She is the whole of it!

The physical part of her soul - the body - is what lies here. Her soul has been set free and has already embarked on its quest for adventures to newer lands."

 Writing your own epitaph can be an extremely emotional experience. This activity helps you gain a perspective on your current life and the way you are living it. Now, I ask, "If you were to die today, what would you want written on your tomb-stone?" What is your reply to this question? Do spend some time and reflect on this question. If you are comfortable, I would really appreciate it if you can share your epitaph on this space...