Am I sleeping in the coffin!??.,

Never you possess anything, without the fear of losing it..,                                                 Never you pass the night, without the hope of seeing the sun..,                                           Never you aspire for anything, without the feel of redemption.

Such is the height of irony Life holds in it's platter. I will feel the greatness of north pole, when I'm in  south pole. I value shadow through sun, I value sun through moon. It takes the capricious coldness of winter, to praise the warm golden rays of spring. And, there is no better way to realize the gift of Life, than through death.

So, this strange imagination goes like this. I lay in the beautifully decorated, coffin, embellished with fresh flowers. The scent of the flowers, is carried away by the wind, filling the entire atmosphere with it's mesmerizing incense. Oh, am I lying dead in my coffin? Seems, the flower incense is so mesmerizing that, I feel, I can die a hundred times, to smell it. All I can see is the Big banyan tree, that seem to be enveloping the whole of the big park, filtering the fiercely intruding sun light, that cut through it's branches, forming multiples grey patterns on the ground.

Am I lying dead in the coffin? Oh my God, I feel glad for it. I never imagined Death, could be such an awesome experience. I feel, as though an extremely auspicious event, is about to happen on that auspicious day, with the birds chirping harmonious tune, digging deep into my very extremes of  memory, excavating sweet nostalgia, and the Big banyan tree, being the only evidence. If at all I'm lying dead in the coffin, I feel very much glad for it. I don't want to know the event, that caused my death, nor it's effects. You never think of reasons to be happy, nor ask for reasons, when joy engulfs you. Do you? I feel at peace, and I'm at the gracious hands of Mother nature, basking in the foot hold of that huge, Banyan tree. Am I lying dead in the coffin? Oh my God, Yes, I do. And I'm glad I'm dead.

All of a sudden, out of no where, a strong waft of dread wasp through the air, and I feel terrorized. An inexplicable feel of uneasiness, paralyse me. Heart begin to leap big, making it's every beat, very pronounced, as though, I hear it reverberating on the sides of the coffin. Oh, If I'm dead, how could my heart beats? But who cares, it's my imagination after all, and I spice it up with some fantasy elements.

Aspirations. Wishes. Dreams. Passion. The words, that sound inspiring when said, and leave you into broken  pieces, when it's not achieved. I felt unfulfilled, in-adequate, a strong feel of bereavement engulf me. I feel  hatred on almost everything. The inexplicable sadness, the strong feel of melancholy, everything started getting itself transmuted into hatred. The Big banyan tree, which made me awe struck with it's grandioseness, now seemed as meaningless,as the imperfect scribbling of a child.

The sweet cadence, of the chirping bird, now seemed a noise. A noise, penetrating the very depth of my consciousness, evoking a sense of grief, making me almost weep, at my own demise. Am I lying dead in the coffin?? Oh my God, No. For the first time, I prayed it should be a dream. Death seemed a gift, sometime back, as I never realized I had aspirations, unfulfilled dreams, wishes that make me sleep, every night, convincing myself, that I indeed have some meaning in life. Abandoning a meaningful Life is indeed a painful thing to do.

Now, the irony begin to reveal itself, in it's most gore, ugliest, cunning form. Now, I want to live. Or at least, I don't wanna die. But the irony is, I'm already dead and lying in my coffin. Oh My God! Am I lying Dead in my coffin?

Yes I do. That's the fact. Hard fact of the omni present and of the omni potent. In a moment, my whole perception of the environment changed drastically. The view of the Big Branches of the banyan tree, is now replaced by the sad gloomy faces of my friends. Probably, mourning for my death. Oh, I now feel the intense urge to give a strong blow on them. They never cared to value my presence, and now what would their crocodile tears would do for me? Will it console my embittered soul and make it rest peacefully? For some reasons, I don't want to bring in my parents in this awkward imagination. So, I limited my fantasy, with I'm lying dead in a beautifully decorated coffin, left with 'NOT-CARING-WHEN-I'M ALIVE' friends, under that Big Banyan tree, that probably stand as a metaphor for Buddha attaining enlightenment, under Bodh gaya. But, How can I be so mean? How stupid I'm to compare, enlightenment with death? But, of course, these 2 are interrelated. These 2 are mutually exclusive indeed. The lack of one, means the presence of other.

Oh my God? Am I lying dead in my Coffin? Oh no. How many things I procrastinated for the future. How  badly I wanted to start writing that novel, but I delayed it for stupid reasons.How badly I wanted to convince my friend. How badly I wanted to go, deep sea diving. How badly I wanted to see a list of my favourite movies. How badly wanted to read the pile of books, but I always delayed it for the future. How badly I feared to abandon what all that I possess, in order to achieve what I really wanted. How stupid, I'm to care about my future, killing every invaluable minutes of my presence. How stupid I'm for keeping sticking to the concept of 'Secured', when such a word, never actually exist in Life.It took me the cost of Life, to realize what's essential and what's not. I've given a big prize.

Am I lying dead in my coffin? Oh My God, No. They're lifting the coffin. For what? This aroused the deepest scary thought ever. They probably going to bury me. Oh god no. I start yelling for help. But for some reasons, couldn't shout. I hear my own voice, shouting fiercely "Hey Idiots, I'm not dead yet. Don't bury me!..," They never seemto hear anything. Stupid, Morons, My Friends... They never heard my soul, when I'm alive, and now they turn a deaf ear to my mumbling voice, crying desperately not to bury me.Suddenly, I felt a complete absence of Light and sound. Probably they'd buried me, and started covering up with the mud. Stupid friends. They always hurry up for everything. Right from completing lunch, to shrinking our weekend hang out time. Now, they're too impatient to even look me , for the last time.

With all my might, I kicked the lid of the coffin, but it wouldn't budge. I couldn't even hear the sound of my thumping. I started kicking it furiously, with all my strength, repeatedly. I have to do it, before I lose my consciousness because of suffocation. The oxygen supply is too low, that it wont cater my lungs for more than a couple of minutes. I have to break open this lid. I have to Live. I don't want to give room for the negative thoughts to upsurge, and what all I have in my mind, is to break open this lid, and inhale the air, frantically.

It seemed an eternity, while I furiously thumped the lid, repeatedly, each time, with more force and at last, when I've almost lost all of my remaining energy, the lid thrown opened in the air. I jumped out of the coffin, out of the mud that covered me, inhaling as much oxygen as possible, in  a state of euphoria. Like a fish, out of the frying pan. Like a phoenix out of the fire, I emerge victorious. I emerge out of death.

All of a sudden, waking out of my imagination, I lay in a stone bench on a deserted park. I had a glass of water, from the nearby dispenser. That seemed the best moment, ever in my life. Full of energy, having realized the value of Life, it's magic, it's miracles, it's mysteries, I totally bow completely to it's vastness..,

P.S. : If you want to live life, in a best possible way, try imagining yourself death, and think how you wish you'll live your life, provided if life is given back to you, by any superior power.. Wake up.. from the imagination, and You'll have a fresh out look on things. (Inspired Paulo cohelho's 'The Pilgrimage')..,

Chennai International Book Fair..,!

Only Book lovers will know the sanctity of that mesmerizing fragrance that emanates from the pages of a tightly bounded book. Well, that fresh whiff gusting in almost every direction, right from the parking lot, to the temporarily sprouted cafeteria making a perfect blend with the  hot steams of coffees and dosas,  leave you 'spell bounded' in the Chennai International Book Fair.

A teenager is making  brisk business, serving hot coffees, to the crowd, and also offering them a complimentary by guiding them towards the right stall to find the book they want. Ask him for paulo coelho, and he'll show you the 14th shop in the 4th lane. Ask for journals and magazines, he'll inform that it's available in almost all lanes. This is just one of the many, such unusual, healthy thing thats happening for the past 10 days in the fair.

I entered the gigantic, artificially erected tent, covering up for almost 100 square km, consisting of 10 lanes, each lane filled with numerous stalls, and each stall brimming with frenzy readers, fiddling through large pile of books, almost hypnotized by it's incense. Everything and everywhere smell of books, and everyone speak of it, in minute details. This form of art, which lay dormant in it's publicity and business for the rest of the year, is organized as a commercial fair, reaching out to the masses.

Very much like a bride carnival, where the brides and grooms mutually look out for their prospective partner, the books piled up here yearn for a suitable reader, and the reader is in turn on the look out for the books savoring their souls, resulting in the culmination of 2 mutually, soulful searches.  With it's attractively designed covers and the enthrallingly written preface, it seems as though the readers are haunted by the soul of the book. Each book speak in their own way, conversing with the reader's mind at various levels subjective to their exposure and knowledge.

If you're having an ear for politics, the book stall having karl marx, Mao and other activists squeal in your ears. If you're that little grown up kid still vying eye for an adventure, the harry potter, and lord of the the rings speak to you in large volumes. The stalls specially dedicated to competitive exams pull your legs, if you're one of that arduous studying geek. The crime novels and detective fiction cater to the spying quotient in you. Many books are so readable that you tend to finish off reading it then and there. Movie aficionados have large collection of books ranging from good reviews to the deep introspection of the great movies of all time.

The love for books begin to ebb in you, and the throbbing crowd and the mass appeal for it may make you wish, you writing your first novel, and it finding it's place in one of the stalls. It doesn't stop with inculcating the reading instinct in you,but also sow the thought weed of getting your hands dirty on writing. The tamil book stalls bring out the long forgotten childhood love for historical classics. Familiar authors and less familiar books are stacked around speaking volumes of it's equanimity to it's wide reached, much celebrated english counterparts.Often heard author names, like akhilan, prebanjan, sundara ramaswamy, janakiraman, sujatha excavate the deep hidden sweet nostalgia, thanks to the school teachers and grandmas incepting the legacy of these great writers in our memory.

For extremely lucky ones, this may even be the place for a start of a love story. You're in look out for a book, and you find someone in opposite sex  scouting for the same author or book and you happen to know it accidentally, and this could brew a love wave, provided you make a bold attempt to start conversation in someway. ;) I'll say more than  a college, more than temples and churches, a book shop is far more a better, divine place to make  a love story sprout. Because here, the attraction for each other happens at the intellectual level, rather at the physical level.

But, for some, whatever I've narrated from the start of this post, may seem undecipherable. The book speak to the people, who're not into reading, and who hardly even read a news paper, in sign language. It has nothing to share or pull these rusted minds, filled with their mass hero movies and unnerving crassness. They look out for something that cater to their limited knowledge and constrained self awareness. Their outlook is shaped by their surroundings. Their creativity is artificially nurtured by the necessity. Not everyone be a sportsman. Not everyone can excel in chess. Not everyone can be book worm excelling in academics. But everyone has to be a reader. Because quenching the creative thirst, is a fundamental, vital need for a soul. So, if you don't read, it can be said, there's something you lack in your fundamentals basically.

Are you a Brand???

The shirt you wear, or the watch striped to your wrist, wouldn't cost you half  it's price, if not for it's brand. You wouldn't be offered same respect if not for the salary you earn. We're valued and validated based on the brands associated with us, right from the slipper you wear to the family value you hold. Have a deeper look, and you'll be astounded by the irony. These brands wrapped on all of your  social, materialistic, spiritual levels,actually weigh more than you. You live for the brand. You think, life's ultimate is to boast these brands you adore. Rip out this ensemble of brands camouflaging you;place yourself naked, devoid of all the stigmas you're glued to, and of the appellations you hold in a nook corner of the wide spectrum of your conscience. And you realize, you're just like a particle of mud in the midst of a desert. You don't have any uniqueness. You're no different.

If whatever I put this in my blog, comes out from some well known, brands like chetan bhagat or amit trivedi, you would pay enough attention to read and nudge your best to understand it. This is what exactly branding is. Look at what a huge difference it makes. A simple, cliche'd one line or a view on a public matter, expressed as a tweet by a branded author will be of more significance than that of a novel by a yet to be branded, unknown author.We keep an eye for the brand, more than it's content.

Life's most uncertain, bizarre, hard phase occurs at this stage, when you're unknown; you tend to suspect your skill and capability, on every onset of a disappointment. Life offers you opportunity at the most awkward moments, when you're not in a position to take it up, and demands you to prove yourself at the most inappropriate times. Only those striving to register themselves in that embellished, overrated gazette of brand, will know the hard hitting, mocking, callous nature of the journey it involves. The fact is: most of us, are not part of that journey.

We're all born unique. The science involved in the creation of a human offspring by itself makes us unique. Haven't we realized, that we've landed up on this earth, after rejecting a million applications to have a foot on this earth? We were unknown; We were one among the large stack of applicants to be a part of the Life journey, until we're born. And when we're born, we're already winners. We're unique. And we're branded too. And this branding phenomenon stick to us, grown with us, with all it's insidious nature of making us an object of less importance, before the ever emphasized brands we're accustomed to.

This uniqueness fades out in due time, and we're lost with the crowd. We lose all qualities to prove our existential necessity. When death is given a hypothetical choice of choosing one among the crowd, we don't have any legitimate grounds to prove our worth living here. We live in our comfort zone, and we're hesitant to budge our ass off this comfort cushion, this society have offered us. We cease to live; We exist with the crowd.

It seems as though we've been poisoned by this strange idea that celebrities, and so called established, branded people, are born with the same stature they hold now, or that they're some specially manufactured creatures. We're so moronic, that we don't realize that each one of us have the capability to become  special; away from the crowd; high above the altitudes of a lay man; An elite place in the social order.

Your favorite actor, author, musician, singer and whomsover or whatsover, added to your branded, VIP list, quintessentially, have one thing in common. They're all unique. They're not part of the crowd, with the common boundaries, and limitations. They're indifferent towards the masses, the common ideologies in some way. They've wouldn't have reached the stature have they hesitated or felt awkward being indifferent.

We've to crack open the shell, bounding us, tearing away multiple layers of stigmas, comfort zones, risk factors, and do something extraordinary or insanely crazy that most of our fellow beings, don't even think of doing. Like one prick of a needle, bursting a balloon, it's that one saturation point, where we go beyond the line drawn by our commitments, comfort zone, the illusionary image we think we hold, the satanic addictions we're accustomed to, and  the twinge of vanity that resides deep in us, just one course of event, could change us for ever. Once you're branded, the rest will become history.

There are so much of consumers, and very little brands. :) Become a brand, and life will become easier. :)

Hang Over Break up.., (spoofy 1 page tale)

Not every time krish wakes up to a rattling sound of the door. Being dragged out from his deep, beer induced sleep, an amalgamation of varied emotions surged him, making him as unbalanced as the proportions of water and alcohol as the sip of drink, he had the previous night. The reality seemed as abstract and weird as the complex, alcohol driven dream he just had a few moments ago, which ended up abruptly before he could possibly make out anything from it, by the hard tapping sound of the door.

Characterized by a somnolent walk, he strolled over the entire breadth of his dingy, unbelievably small, yet compact cozy room, reaching for the door knob,all the while his eyes being shut. As soon as he opened, someone entered stomping him, hardly, while his eyelids opened suddenly, in a reflex to witness a near absurd sight. Standing before him, was a gigantic figure; untidy and dirty to maximum extent. More untidy and nasty his shirt would get in his alcohol stimulated frenzy. What was even more bizarre was that he was holding a stack of currency notes in his left hand. More than half a dozen Ghandhijis  delightedly,  smirking at him.

Leaving no time for him to react, he stuffed the hot cash in his pocket while saying,          "I want it, as soon as possible", in an authoritative tone, very much like his project manager.                "Want what?", he asked. Swerving as swiftly as he could in the staircase, he retorted, "Already enough is discussed. I want it. Just for a day and if possible for a night." He wanted to probe further, but the 10 notes having ghandhiji's smiling at him, gave him an instant excitement, leave alone the consequences.

He tried to decipher the strange event that had just happened, figuring every possible signs, and the remnants of the previous night's intoxicated frenetic moments. He had known that guy, and recollected almost every conversation he had with him, previously. He was strange; every aspect of him, appearance and the series of disconnected long sentences he usually used to speak, makes it not much difficult to figure out that he is mentally deranged. His insanity never gets beyond the blabbering and drinking stuffs. If not, he would've been long put up behind the bars of a mental asylum. Krish gets insane to such an extent, to give a match to this strange guy's strangeness whenever he boozed up. And every bit of words he had shared with him , was either in person or through long chatting sessions  in facebook, at the peak of his intoxicated frenetic moments. But Krish wondered, what strange thing on earth, he must've said that made the strange man to stuff 6 notes of 1000 rupees in his pocket. After all 6000 rupees is more than the quarter of his salary. More than enough for him to survive, with food and water for a month.

Leaving no time for these investigative thoughts to germinate, his door thumped  again. This time in a  very lightly, deliberately creepy way, like a ghost making it's presence felt, in the weird hours of the night. Striken by a strange fear, he reached swiftly to the door knob, unclutched it, and witnessed something, which triggered a  heart attack, sprinkled with a little surprise.

It's was her. The very girl, he'd been prowling over for the past 2 years. It's hardly a week since his name in her waiting list, moved up to RAC, and got confirmed unexpectedly. Seeing her, the alcohol triggered blush in his face, became even more gloomier, with the happiness of her unexpected early morning attendance. Waking up to the company of the girl he loves in a confused, inebriated condition, caused by the night long alcohol induced frenzy,  made him  think that his day was made. But instantly, this series of thoughts subdued into a sense of doubt and strangeness. He just remembered the first quarrel he had with her, the previous night.

Like a sudden power failure, his thought fan stopped whirling abruptly by the sight of her right hand, strecthing towards the top,  like a fast bowler, preparing to deliver the throw in full toss,  her hand's direction, swerved perpendicular to his cheek,  before he could even realize what's happening, he felt a sudden sense of soreness; a pain that reminded him of the slap, he got from his maths teacher in the good old school days.

Slapping him, with all her might she left immediately, leaving no clue of the series of bizarre events happening around him.

Left with no clue, to the gory hands of frustration and disappointment, he took his mobile, to call her. His android phone's home screen, displayed a facebook notification.

Suspiciously, he he opened it. Facebook home page said, 4 people like his status. He hardly remember anything on posting a status. Something smelled fishy.He opened.

A photo of his girl friend, appeared. Facebook said, he posted it on 11:48p.m the previous night, with a tagline.

"Girl friend for sale. No pun intended.."

P.S.: My friend suggested this a 1 line script for a funny short film. :)

In Praise of an ever budding rose!..,

When you don't experience something in reality, you've to create an imaginative arena, with your own characters, emotions,  contradictions, and a perfect setting to let these entities wander. Describing one of such beautiful, awe-inspiring imaginative entity.

She-is beautiful. I fell for her at the very sight. It was love at first sight, at last sight,at ever and ever sight.!.. I run out of adjectives, descriptive words whenever she fills my mind. She has been a subject of my thoughts. An object of my awe; A verb defining my actions. I don't even have to pay full attention to think about her, that even a slight clue or a remnant trace of her thought,  excites me instantly. She don't have a name. Or it should be said, I'm yet to name her.!

She is not materialistic. She is not real. An illusion. An imaginative object, that stands a testimony to my impeccable creativity..! She totally belongs to me. She belongs to my personal space. I created her, nurtured, and incubated in the deepest crevice of my sub-conscious. She grew with me. I grew with her. It's been a decade, since she born. She born, on a night; Probably, she the first living character created in my imagination.

The sub-conscious thought impulses reflects the need of the soul every time. A dream factory, that generates a framework, where infinite landscapes  created in varied tones. We create people, the way we like. Or the way we hate. We sometimes remodel the people in real world, with a different characteristic traits. I created you at the dawn of my teenage; on the verge of my childhood era. You was the utmost need of the hour then. You was created to quench the thirst of the young man, born out of my childhood; A tiny droplet of water to quench the hormonal appetite that was just sprouted.

An abstract image in black and white shade, carved out in the entrenched area of the mind, far off from the awkward realism of the reality,were to be created during the budding stages of my teen, which lay as a personification of the girl, fitting the creeks left out by the wariness of Life and filling the unhealed voids left out by it's scars. This imaginative personification of the girl, has always been periodically replaced by almost every girl, who was looking good enough to transfix my gaze on her on the first sight. The texture and the hues of this mental image may vary. But not it's nature. Water adopts to the shape of it's container. But the container has nothing to do with it's volume.Likewise, the mental image, the personification of my search for the better half, remains intact, irrespective of the girls periodically filling it's space, only to get replaced eventually by other girls. In other words, I've created a mental abstract framework for the nature of the girl, and I just dynamically alter her appearance with the features of the girl, who'd impressed me in such a way to fit to this framework.

You, are probably the 7th girl to get into this entrenched personal space, penetrating various stages of filtration. You look good. As I said, I run short of adjectives to describe you. You fall in an uncategorized category, that is apart from the basic Good looking-Bad looking comparisons. It's love that changed my outlook on you. I loved you deeply, and so, I observed you deeply and not the other way around.!

As you're sitting there, opposite to me, with a transcending gaze, intruding to the deep crevices of my personal space, which I've not opened up so often to anyone. Like a skilled investigating personnel, extracting words with a lie detector, you trigger me to speak my heart just with the aid of your soul penetrating gaze. That gaze, just the mere thought of it, have the potential to transport me to an infinite space boundless of space and time.

Through you, I discovered the love for myself. You make the buds of pride to bloom; The pride induced by the thought of owning an object of exceptional beauty. Perfectly chiseled features, a little pointed nose, lips that are perfectly in sync with the eyes giving aplenty of varied body language or lip language, as I prefer to call it, with calculated, varied amounts of contractions and expansions, reflecting various possible moods of the eye. It will be difficult to describe your neck, without cliche'd metaphors. But I'll say, it has a low leveled, little empty space that'll make a perfect couch for my Adam's apple to rest, while I kiss you. You're an infinitely blooming ever budding rose..!

I limit myself in describing everything about you in a single post. I assure you, that you will be re-christened with words, every time my emotions towards you ebb. :)

P.S. : Sometimes we ought to do something we love, forcefully, just to feel good. I love writing. I love linguistics. But then, love needs to be expressed. Not suppressed. So, I'm just writing this post, more out of compulsion, to be in touch with this beloved habit, than out of the urge to write.

I wanna Date with Richard Parker......,

I'm happy, this is my 75th post. :)

I've reviewed 'Hugo' on my 50th post, and just when I thought of sharing about the movie that inspired me the most in the next post, I'm also happy that this happened to be my 75th post. Lemme Disclaim that this is not a review. It's an unforgettable 120 minutes reverie in Sathyam cinemas.  I've Lived throughout the movie, and living with it's soul forever.

Heck a lot of people have already praised, analysed it's technical brilliance, and if I gonna say all those well known facts, again,it would sound a cliche'. Ang-Lee's attempt is beyong criticisms, reviews.  'Life of Pi' re-explores the potential and the magic of cinema.  It's the bravura piece of filmmaking.

What I'm gonna share is how I do I relate myself to this spectacle.  What U think the most adverse, difficult time U ever crossed in ur life? A fateful Accident U've met? A financial crisis? Difficult times of searching job? Watch 'Life of Pi' and U'll realise these are not a problem at all. We all been multi-coated, laminated with various layers of religious beliefs, caste and creed, Social ethics, fairy tales of 33000 hindu GODS, Bhagawat Geetha, a Bible, a Quron.!.. We may think we're all Theists. i.e., we're all believers of GOD. But the bitter fact is that, we're all Agnostic. i.e., We're skeptical about the existence of GOD, and we're not sure about our beliefs. In my point of view, 'Life of Pi' oblige that the real faith U have on GOD will unleash at the most difficult situation U ever face.!  

In the words of the movie, which probably taken from the yan martel's original book, " Believing in all GODS is as good as believing in nothing." :) Only when you're in the verge of death, U're mind wont conflict with it's ideas. There wont be any conflict between ur intelligence and ur faith, and thats the moment, U'll realise GOD is oneness.

Theists, Atheists, Agnostics are all branches of the same tree. 'Faith' is GOD. U've to faith in something. U've to faith in the future, no matter how darker ur present situtaion is in. Faith keeps U going. Being a fan of Paulo cohelho's vision, I cant help every frame of 'Life of Pi' reminds me of Cohelho's words. Be it cohelho's alchemist, or yan martel's 'Life of Pi', the ultimate message delivered is that 'Letting Go' is the ultimate key of Life. The ultimate celebration of Life is not in keeping you're faith when U have everything. Its in keeping  faith , when U've lost evrything. Still Let go and hope for the future.

I imagined myself lost at the pacific, with fearsome memories of my family, the girl i love, everything vanished in a moment and I'm all alone. It's the time, the GODS I've been praying since time immemorial, to save me. It's the moment where the faith I've kept in GOD, is put to ultimate test. Now,  not  Lord Brahma, who craeted me, or Lord krishna, the savior of Humanity is gonna save me. Only my faith does. The faith I have on these GODS does save me.

Throw away ur religion, just believe in something, without any form, any name, that created U, the creatures U consume, the creatures which consumes U, the mighty very Nature that reminds it's prowess with frequent disasters. U're less than a dot before that ultimate power. The Creator's intelligence is beyond human scope, and very few experience the ultimate moment of facing HIM. Through the protogonist, the 120 minute celluloid brilliance presents U a platform to realise it. :) 

Just introspect urself. have the patience for Questioning u're existence, have some patience for analysing that the objects u're striving for is really worth it? The most difficult question U'll face at the end of the movie is that, 'Am I Living or Just Existing?' for which obviously majority of the answers would be existing.

The most touching moment in the movie is when, the boy drained off energy lay motionless on the sands , the Tiger, with whom he shared the most near-death situations, just goes through the jungle and without taking a moment to look back at him. The adult 'Pi' literally cries, when recollecting the moment the Tiger left him.

" We cant be with the loved one togther always. It's neccesity and survival instinct to go. But take some time to bid a final 'Good Bye' " Awesome words. How badly I expected 'Good Bye' from many, and felt bad most of the times, they left me just like that. :( 

The Book and the movie ends with the open note and the climax is surprisingly hypothetical. Pi narrates another story, personifying Zebra as his mom, fox as the co-traveller and threading a new story with it is awesome. And ironically, he lefts out equal emotions when narrating this version too leaving the audience skeptical that whether the latter version is true.. For a moment , I felt Akira Kurosawa's touch. They give us choice.. "Which version of the story do U prefer?"  :)  

I prefer Tiger story..the most. Because, I think am already living other version of the story with all sorts of betrayals, losses, faith, hatred everything..

I wish and yearn to be alone myself with Tiger, Richard parker in deep , untraceable, unravelled islands in the pacific.., :)

Oh My GOD!.. I Lost Myself..,

I'm confused. I'm sick. Sick of everything that I witness. Though I've been through this difficult, bizarre phase often in my Life, the impact is much more this time. I find no time, and I feel I'm gradually drifted away from my most lovable activities. viz., Blogging, Reading, and Dreaming.! Burning the mid-night oil, deeply lost in thoughts, I arrived at the fruitful conclusion in the Dawn.! Somewhere, sometime in the past 2 weeks, I lost 'myself'! I decided. The first thing to do is lodge a complaint, in the nearest police station.!

The Sub inspector strongly denied filing an FIR, ridiculing me. I really cant understand What's so funny?!!.. The Police value Gold, property theft. But they just dont care about 'myself'.  I lost 'myself'. Where will I find me? again..? :roll: I reached for the help of my full time soul stirrer, my mom. :) She just gave almost the same kinda look as the police, and started advising me I shouldn't go alone in night times!.. :) OMG!.. So, I lost 'myself' in the late night cab, I've been travelling for the past 1 week?

I even  asked the cab driver. He too gave the same awkward look. So, where to find 'myself' again? I asked my friends. They made serious arrangements for admitting me to mental hospital. :) One friend suggested I should've lost myself in the pouty smile or magnetizing gaze of a Girl. Oh Yes!.. There is a possibility for that too.., I started recollecting the events, but to the best of my knowledge, I never remember seeing such gaze or smile in the recent past. Every girl's eyes I've seen are filled with mascaras and eye liners, making it difficult to have that magnetizing gaze. ;)

The most beautiful pair of eyes I ever saw was in my school days!. I lost 'myself' seeing my first crush. But i found it in sometime. Even this time, I should be able to find it. Hopefully!..  So, where else I need to search for it? Was it lost in the endless, complex lines of code, I work with? Yes, I searched through the complex MVPC architecture, I've been working. But I couldn't find. I'm not even able to find where an exception is thrown, in that complex code, then how can I find 'myself' there? lol :)

Was it in the office communicator.?  No. Not at all. Apart from my very few well wishers, and soul stirrers, no one pings, nor me ping them. So, definitely not. But I realized at that very moment, that I've been quite depressed, as the work heat crossed the threshold, and it was drifting me from my dreams, and my likes. So, if not in the cab, I must have lost it in the train.

The next morning, I enquired a string of railway officials viz., station master, driver, ticket checker etc., if they have spotted 'myself' anywhere. They again gave me same insane , dirty look as the police, and handed me to the railway police. The railway police suspected that I may be the psycho who hijacked the train and caused accident in 2009. :) At last, after confirming, that I'm a 'dummy piece', they left me.

I found out a hint. 'myself' is not lost in some nook or corner of the world. It's somewhere hiding it's appearance, behind my laziness and weariness. I've been used to my work and the pressure, life laid out upon me, and instead of re-discovering my likes , potential and dreams, I stupidly adapted to it, and never paid heed to my conscience. I didn't respected 'myself'. Thats why, 'myself' has left me!  :cry:

When I'm on train , I saw the old man selling 3 pens for 10 bugs and torches, and railway timetable regularly. I know him. I've been seeing him for a long time. Why not ask him? The top railway officials nor the railway police could not help me. Why not give a last try.?!.. The answer may be wit this end servant.

"Sir. I lost myself somewhere, sometime in the past 2 weeks, and I'm on search of it madly. Could you please guide or suggest or give any clues to find 'myself'.? "  He gave an instant reply, "Get down in the next station, leave this train. Wait till the next train. You'll find 'yourself'. "

I obeyed his order. The five minutes I waited there, made me pass through a series of thoughts, thats been bothering me, and troubling me. But more than all these thoughts, one haunting, thought surpassed everyother impulses. It said, 'It's time to office. Are you stupid? Get to work ASAP.'

There I found 'myself'!  or i should say, the way to find myself. Dont pay heed to the thought, that makes you adapt to survival, and make you forget 'yourself'. Just reserve some time, think peacefully. That 5 minutes, made me realize this. and for the second time, after losing it to the gaze of my first crush, 6 years ago, I found 'myself' again, this time too.. :)

So, I made a pledge to 'myself'.

I will always lose 'myself' to the things I love. But never will lose it for the things, I hate. :)

P.S.: This must be yet another strange post from me. :) I understand. I'm not sure, how many readers, will understand the real feel I been through, compiling my thoughts. If you've read it fully , patiently, thanks a lot...! :)