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I don't know if i liked the movie but i must talk about it. I loved bits in it. Particularly Danger, i think the best character in the movie, he doesn't have anything in him but heart, and he believes in freeman's words when he says it's not over there's always another fight.
frankly the only person who deserved an oscar for the movie didn't get it. Clint Eastwood played his part well, the rest probably got it due to the shortage of competition. it definitely didn't deserve the best movie award. clint eastwood's Mystic River was a much more powerful tale.
Well the feeling i came out with was -- boxing is no game man it should be stopped and it definitely is not abt earning respect.
The Touch Me Not Girl by Rajlakshmee Debee is a wonderful book. The writer died a few days back and I wish I could have told the writer how much I loved the book, I could have I know someone who could at the least pass on my message to her. But I guess she doesn't need a medium to know my thots now. The book does not say in so many words but it wishes that we erase the imaginary boundaries that separate us as countries and live as a united fraternity.
Where there is no Pakistan
Where there is no India
Where there is no Mussalmaan
Where there is no Hindu
Where the womb bears love
Where the mind dreams of peace
And in that heaven of of Freedom, God, let my world awake....
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Fake v/s Real
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It's not a split personality disorder but something they term as 'Feeling Fake Feeling'. While speaking to her it dawned upon me that I am not as nice or as intelligent as people think I am. I haven't consciously tried to build this image but people around me make me feel that way.
I feel "Wise" at times almost tending to "I am the most intelligent man in this world". Not only that, there's a thot sapling inside me which is dying to grow into a tree of compassion and benevolence.
But the "Mean Man" inside me isn't a sleeping giant either. Especially the wounds of sarcasm that he can inflict in people are quite lethal. But I try to curb this bad boy. Make sure that he doesn't get out of hand and at the least is good to nice people. Maybe thats why the nice people think I am a nice guy. I almost always have never had any problems of conquering the hearts of the elders around me. My modus-operandi is simple, when you meet them first ensure that they have smiled or laughed at least once during the ice-breaking chat.
So am I the genuine hero, the nice-guy, or if not the hero-the hero's best friend who sacrifices his life for friendship? Or am I a character in the soap-opera of life who is at the whims and fancies of the script writer, who one day from the apple-of-the-eye turns into the worm-in-the-apple. Am I the nice guy about to go rotten?
Am I believing what people are believing about me? Am I living to their expectations and are they ready to accept the unexpected?
But chatting with an another her today, I realised that how convoluted the reality is and how simple being fake is. For a diamond to be real it has to satisfy a lot of criteria. But you can still call it a stone. So is reality just a subset of being fake?
Our truest, innermost, deepest feelings are like diamonds only those who have quarried deep into you will know them. But all our feelings that the outside world sees are stones. Valueless but necessary.
Isn't reality a part of this Illusion?
It's not a split personality disorder but something they term as 'Feeling Fake Feeling'. While speaking to her it dawned upon me that I am not as nice or as intelligent as people think I am. I haven't consciously tried to build this image but people around me make me feel that way.
I feel "Wise" at times almost tending to "I am the most intelligent man in this world". Not only that, there's a thot sapling inside me which is dying to grow into a tree of compassion and benevolence.
But the "Mean Man" inside me isn't a sleeping giant either. Especially the wounds of sarcasm that he can inflict in people are quite lethal. But I try to curb this bad boy. Make sure that he doesn't get out of hand and at the least is good to nice people. Maybe thats why the nice people think I am a nice guy. I almost always have never had any problems of conquering the hearts of the elders around me. My modus-operandi is simple, when you meet them first ensure that they have smiled or laughed at least once during the ice-breaking chat.
So am I the genuine hero, the nice-guy, or if not the hero-the hero's best friend who sacrifices his life for friendship? Or am I a character in the soap-opera of life who is at the whims and fancies of the script writer, who one day from the apple-of-the-eye turns into the worm-in-the-apple. Am I the nice guy about to go rotten?
Am I believing what people are believing about me? Am I living to their expectations and are they ready to accept the unexpected?
But chatting with an another her today, I realised that how convoluted the reality is and how simple being fake is. For a diamond to be real it has to satisfy a lot of criteria. But you can still call it a stone. So is reality just a subset of being fake?
Our truest, innermost, deepest feelings are like diamonds only those who have quarried deep into you will know them. But all our feelings that the outside world sees are stones. Valueless but necessary.
Isn't reality a part of this Illusion?
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