I watched Avengers some time ago. I liked it. But this is not a review of the film. This is really about something else.
All through this film that I had waited and waited to catch, I was totally disturbed by the 3D glasses. They were so uncomfortable. And well, the 3D was quite unnecessary, I thought. I don’t know if everyone felt this way or it’s just me. I want to be completely into the film when I am watching it, and the 3D just didn’t let me!
It’s like every two minutes something flies at you and reminds you that you’re watching a movie. They might as well shake your seats and laugh loudly in your ear. We go to the cinema for the high of losing ourselves in the story. Something coming flying at me every two seconds is not really my idea of involvement.
The screen looked dark almost the whole time. Not sure if this is how it was everywhere or the theatre I watched it at had some problem. In any case, a part of me was just dying for this torture to end so I could take off the freaking glasses. Interestingly, the film was good so it kept me in my seat despite the inconvenience and discomfort. But I couldn’t help thinking how much more I’d have enjoyed it if I’d just watched the 2D version of it.
The most annoying part is that the images look grainy and blurred if you take off the glasses. But at least the screen gets lighter, so I did watch part of the movie without the glasses; blurry, but in perfectly good color. So basically, I paid through my nose at a multiplex to get annoyed, irritated, and totally miserable.
And I hear 4D technology is here. Geez. I wonder what it does. As if just the glasses were not uncomfortable enough.
I am scared to think of what 5D, 6D, and 7D technologies will do to me. Will the actors stand around me and perform while I cower in fear of being struck dead? Will the hero jump and kiss me instead of the heroine? That should be good though! Imagine being kissed by Tony Stark. Haha. I can sure deal with it.
But then there are some movies I absolutely enjoyed in 3D! How to train your dragon was brilliant and I really liked the effect. Avatar was great! I only remembered at the end of the movie that I was wearing the glasses.
Maybe 3D needs a whole new technological shift – lose the glasses, for starters. Most viewers don’t want to be dazzled by a firework display of super effects – we still want the good old storytelling and emotional involvement. Somehow technology seems to come in the way.
I believe 3D should come with a caveat: Use only if absolutely necessary. And please, only if it enhances the emotional connection in some way, not if it hampers it.
Again...
Cheated by you again
Eyes blandished
Smile lied and led
Again…
Again I believed
Again I sang
Again heart leapt
And fluttered some more
Again I dreamt
Again I soaked in
Some of you
Again tears brimmed
In my eyes
And stayed there
Refusing to fall
Refusing to be contained
Again...
Restlessness and Sleep
Restlessness comes,
Peeks over my listless body
Smiles and
Curls up next to me
'Why so alone?' he asks.
And then my mind whirls,
Flutters, sways, churns.
Peace forgotten, I rest
My body alone,
My mind, all in a dither
Silent tears brimming
I think of Sleep
My old paramour...
You left me for
A new love...
Does she smile
When you caress
Her hair?
Does she whisper to
You from distant lands,
Her closed eyelids moving?
Does her bosom heave
With the slow rhythm
of your song?
Do her hands smell
Of fading henna?
Restlessness embraces me
'Look at me, darling,
He never did love you,
But I...
I am here for you...
I'll hold you.'
I stifle a sob and
Rest my tired head
On his thorny shoulder
For tonight he'll do
Tomorrow is
another night, though
And I'll hope again...
A river’s tale
A blithe river
Young and nimble
Jumping, sliding, slipping, bouncing
Chattering of snow capped mounts
Of trees tall
Of yaks and yetis
Of braided hair
Of joyful tears
Of carefree months
Of winding years
Of the silt of sorrow
Of the dump of angst
Oblate-d by men
And women’s hands
Of heavens opening
With showers galore
Of water evermore
Than she could hold
Of pouring forth
And bringing it out
Of stretching out arms
And embracing all
Villages, temples,
Schools and huts
Boys, men,
Cows, and mutts
All alike in their
Drowned-ness
All in the silence of the sea
All alike in half-lived lives
Just like you and me
Young and nimble
Jumping, sliding, slipping, bouncing
Chattering of snow capped mounts
Of trees tall
Of yaks and yetis
Of braided hair
Of joyful tears
Of carefree months
Of winding years
Of the silt of sorrow
Of the dump of angst
Oblate-d by men
And women’s hands
Of heavens opening
With showers galore
Of water evermore
Than she could hold
Of pouring forth
And bringing it out
Of stretching out arms
And embracing all
Villages, temples,
Schools and huts
Boys, men,
Cows, and mutts
All alike in their
Drowned-ness
All in the silence of the sea
All alike in half-lived lives
Just like you and me
TMI (Too Much Information)
I am feeling a little overwhelmed. Honestly, who can blame me? Everywhere I turn, I am bombarded with information. TMI everywhere! Online, digital, whatever name you give it.
And why, I wonder, do I gravitate towards this information myself? I subscribe to newsletters, I join forums, I say ‘yes’ to notifications. And when these arrive in my mailbox, I frown at them.
But wait! But this is not just me. This is a trend!
I see people on Twitter following a 100 or more accounts.
I can’t even keep up with the twenty something accounts that I follow. Luckily, most of my friends don’t tweet every time they burp. Thank god for small mercies.
I just sit at my computer and I receive a hundred emails on subjects spanning the length and breadth of our planet – sometimes about outer space too.
Seriously, am I interested?
And I generate information myself too – painfully aware that each character I type takes up space on some server somewhere, whether someone reads it or not.
I feel I am slowly getting obsessed with online information and its irritant quality. I never have this feeling about books. Probably because I have a choice - I can decide to not open a book. But can I ignore an email that says ‘must read!’, ‘amazing facts about blah blah’, ’10 best things about blah’? My internal filter seems to be failing. I can’t decide what to read and what to give a miss anymore.
What am I interested in? Art? Cinema? Books? UX? What do I like? Chaat? Cake? Pasta? Choosing is so difficult when you have so many choices. When someone offers me vanilla and chocolate ice-creams and says, ‘pick any one’, I can quickly decide which one I want. But when I go to Baskin Robins, I stare at the menu for 10 minutes, decide on something, peek at other tables while eating it, and feel that the others are probably eating a better flavor.
I feel attacked and bombarded with TMI. I am over-stimulated and overwhelmed all the time. Sometimes I try ‘blocking’ or ‘not paying attention’ to save myself from a burnout. I scan, skim, or plain ignore.
So if you want to tell me something, please tell it to me. Don’t point me to a website with a 1000-word article. I don’t have the energy.
And I am sleep deprived. I need an opiate. And a soft bed. And a soft blanket. And a padded cell, maybe.
And why, I wonder, do I gravitate towards this information myself? I subscribe to newsletters, I join forums, I say ‘yes’ to notifications. And when these arrive in my mailbox, I frown at them.
But wait! But this is not just me. This is a trend!
I see people on Twitter following a 100 or more accounts.
I can’t even keep up with the twenty something accounts that I follow. Luckily, most of my friends don’t tweet every time they burp. Thank god for small mercies.
I just sit at my computer and I receive a hundred emails on subjects spanning the length and breadth of our planet – sometimes about outer space too.
Seriously, am I interested?
And I generate information myself too – painfully aware that each character I type takes up space on some server somewhere, whether someone reads it or not.
I feel I am slowly getting obsessed with online information and its irritant quality. I never have this feeling about books. Probably because I have a choice - I can decide to not open a book. But can I ignore an email that says ‘must read!’, ‘amazing facts about blah blah’, ’10 best things about blah’? My internal filter seems to be failing. I can’t decide what to read and what to give a miss anymore.
What am I interested in? Art? Cinema? Books? UX? What do I like? Chaat? Cake? Pasta? Choosing is so difficult when you have so many choices. When someone offers me vanilla and chocolate ice-creams and says, ‘pick any one’, I can quickly decide which one I want. But when I go to Baskin Robins, I stare at the menu for 10 minutes, decide on something, peek at other tables while eating it, and feel that the others are probably eating a better flavor.
I feel attacked and bombarded with TMI. I am over-stimulated and overwhelmed all the time. Sometimes I try ‘blocking’ or ‘not paying attention’ to save myself from a burnout. I scan, skim, or plain ignore.
So if you want to tell me something, please tell it to me. Don’t point me to a website with a 1000-word article. I don’t have the energy.
And I am sleep deprived. I need an opiate. And a soft bed. And a soft blanket. And a padded cell, maybe.
Poetry is trash
Burns without ash
and burns within
colorless, odorless
it burns and stings...
not real tears
it’s the eyes
watering from the
stinging smoke of my
burning poem...
All trash to be
burned,
turned into ash
all trash…
and burns within
colorless, odorless
it burns and stings...
not real tears
it’s the eyes
watering from the
stinging smoke of my
burning poem...
All trash to be
burned,
turned into ash
all trash…
So it came to this...
From vows exchanged
To swords trained
From happily ever after
To end of chapter
From the dark mane
To color and rogaine
Seen and done it all; what’s new?
Still lost within, and have no clue…
Locked up! The body a cage
Oh, it sure is lousy to age!
I write like...
I visited a site that allows you to paste your writing and then tells you which famous writer your style is most like. And see what I got!
Most pleased :D
Decisions
Walking through the forest road
I caught a glimpse of a path
That not many feet had trodden
Grass growing where feet once fell
Maybe with good reason?
‘Who knows what I’ll meet, if
I go down that path?’
I turned away and walked on
And have been walking thus…
To things and places pre-ordained
No surprises in store
Far away from the forest now
I think of the old footpath
Who knows what I’d have met, if
I had gone down that path…
I caught a glimpse of a path
That not many feet had trodden
Grass growing where feet once fell
Maybe with good reason?
‘Who knows what I’ll meet, if
I go down that path?’
I turned away and walked on
And have been walking thus…
To things and places pre-ordained
No surprises in store
Far away from the forest now
I think of the old footpath
Who knows what I’d have met, if
I had gone down that path…
the wannabe
She woke with a start
Too tired, after the
night’s escapades…
With herself and her imaginations
Running wild both
One egging the other on…
She wore lipstick too
Not like the other nights
When it’s just pretend-play
This was the real deal
And boy, it felt good.
Madonna came…
And Elvis was there too
‘She looks pretty’, he’d said.
She sang and won hearts again
And again
And again
And then was too tired
To carry on
Body revolting against mind
She fell on the sofa, asleep,
Smudging lipstick and mascara
And dreaming on…
And on…
Too tired, after the
night’s escapades…
With herself and her imaginations
Running wild both
One egging the other on…
She wore lipstick too
Not like the other nights
When it’s just pretend-play
This was the real deal
And boy, it felt good.
Madonna came…
And Elvis was there too
‘She looks pretty’, he’d said.
She sang and won hearts again
And again
And again
And then was too tired
To carry on
Body revolting against mind
She fell on the sofa, asleep,
Smudging lipstick and mascara
And dreaming on…
And on…
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