“Get up again” May 22, 2012
Posted by Akriti Bahal in Feelings, Life, Peace, Struggle.17 comments
The last time I wrote a blog entry, I was quibbling about it with my mom, “Mom, I’m not writing anymore, nobody even reads my blog, it’s a screw up.“
My Mom tried a great deal to boost me up saying, “There may be many instances in life where you may feel petty in front of the world, stifled with no one around, but just remember that life makes you face your weaknesses, only for you to extirpate them. Challenges arrive only for you to have a one-on-one combat with them. And who says nobody reads your blog, I do! Now, this avid reader earnestly requests you to keep writing, so won’t you?”
I knew she alluded toward something more than just Writing-A-Blog, it was about life she was talking about. But, me and my shortsightedness, nothing seemed to mollify me then. (Although, her last line did make me smile, but I still felt the same from beneath.)
But last night, abruptly, I finally saw my driving light, or rather ultimately gathered the courage to accept that it was something (or someone) that has always brought me through. And this feeling of illumination innervated me to write a diary entry.
Dear Diary, 21st May 2012, 2:00 a.m.
I woke up from my sleep to write this feeling, I don’t know why, but I just had to.
The time passed apace,
I stumbled, staggered, bruised
And even fell straight on my face.
But, something always got me through
And that light was You.
Sometimes, in life, you know somethings can’t happen, they just don’t make any difference to the other person, but they still mean a lot in your life. And even though unaware, sometimes they just end up doing the benignant work of holding you through.
For me, it has been someone (or something) too. Breakdowns- I have had many. Aid- I have had none. But, each time in my breakdowns, I have helped myself to stand back up, and that’s what thinking about you does for me.
It is today that I realize what you meant long back, how after suffering a great setback, your life becomes your worst enemy and your most faithful friend. Dealing with it and living for it, becomes your only elixir for life. The words you said then, I didn’t understand, I complained. Everybody continually told me what getting up again meant, nothing helped, it just made me more resistance toward it.
But, I can decipher it exactly now. I finally do accept that- I am just thankful to you because, you might not even know, in every breakdown, thinking about you helps me gather myself again, helps me get up again. Even though indirectly, but you made me learn how to fight. You may have silently egressed, or maybe even exist somewhere there in space, but before leaving you just gifted me your most precious earning – AMBITION. (And the meaning of hard work.)
Maybe someday, I’ll be able to giving that driving light a name and a shape too. But, for now, it just remains my guiding force, that, even though does not exist in actuality, does not have any figure, but remains to be my strongest force.
Valentine’s Day 2012 2011
February 14, 2012
Posted by Akriti Bahal in Feelings, Happiness, hindi poem, Life, Peace.
14 comments
“It’s the day of Love!”
“It’s really important for me.”
Yeah, these were my words until this morning. Sounds cliche? Ya, I know.
Until today Valentine’s Day was something that was too much hyped inside my head. And all this while I had only been thinking about my last Valentine’s; how special it was and feeling miserable, obviously. But, that feeling just emended itself, all of a sudden, today.
Why only ‘Valentine’s Day – A special day of Love’, for the overrated term “LOVE”? Each day spent peacefully with your loved ones, then be it your family even, or even your pet dog, for that matter; every such day ♥ is a Valentine’s Day ♥.
Now, I can proudly say, without feeling even peewee amount of miserable, that I spent the whole day at home, dancing to trite songs, watching histrionic television shows, and eating loads of junk. Well, that’s how I celebrated my day. Sometimes, you just fall in love with your home.
Of course, in all this imbecility, I did one fruitful work.
My first hindi poem, which I began writing on 17/12/2011 but never managed to complete it; I finally consummated it today. Well then, I must say – Cheers to 2011, 17/12/2011!
That commenced my crooning:
मोर के मख़मली पंखों में,
रंगों की चादर ओढ़े
नाचे अपनी ही नई दुनिया में,
डरती दुबकती घबराती
छुपती और हिचक के पीछे हो जाती
बैठी है एक नन्ही सी चिड़िया |
कहती है छुपालो मुझे,
ये दुनिया |
मोर उसे समा लेता, अपने पंखों से छुपा लेता
थोड़ी सी राहत में, सुरक्षा के एहसास में
फिर भी वो बेचैन है,
कहती है
मुझे खोना है |
हाँ पूरी तरह से खोना है |
बाग़ की हरियाली में बैठी
वसंत की खूबसूरत फुलवारी को महसूस करती
बैठी है एक अकेली सी लड़की
किताब में लीन,
जैसे वही हो उसका सहारा |
देखे वो भी उस चिड़िया की ओर
सोचे,
तुमको तो ये मोर बचा लेगा
लेकिन मेरे लिए कौन आएगा ?
जब अकेले दिल घबराएगा
तब मेरे लिए कौन आएगा ?
जब लोगों से ही डर सताएगा
तब मेरे लिए कौन आएगा ?
बचा नहीं अब किसी पर भी भरोसा है
इसलिए मुझे भी
अब बस खोना है |
जाने कहाँ से आई एक आवाज़
“में दुनिया से भले ही खुद छुपती हूँ,
बड़ी बड़ी चीज़ों से डरती हूँ,
भले ही में बहुत छोटी हूँ,
लेकिन
मैं आउंगी,
हाँ में यहीं हूँ |”
किताब के खयालों से बाहर निकल के
नज़रों का दायराना घुमाके
पाए वो
उस छोटी सी चिड़िया को
बैठी है उसके कंधे पर जो |
This Promise February 10, 2012
Posted by Akriti Bahal in Feelings, Happiness, Love, Peace.5 comments
This Promise
This promise
I keep making to myself
This promise
Reminds me of ourself,
When the Teddy Bear came, sat,
And is still sitting in the shelf.
For, with this promise
We jumped every cleft.
Life for me has been unexpected
When you least look for,
It jumps upon and leaves you surprised,
Out of your sopor.
Things began to fall into its place
Were floundering, but budging ahead in their own pace.
I saw the world, come together and then part
But, we are still there, from the very start.
Lucky I am,
To have found you by chance,
You made everything feel better,
With just your smile and a glance.
And this promise
I keep making to myself
This promise
Fills my life full of love in itself
For this promise
Is to smile and keep gifting you smiles
As wide as the tide,
· ♥ Always! ♥ ·
··♦ Thank you for everything,
Helping me find that true road,
I’m hoping you will join me always,
As the life’s treasures unfold. ♦··
Love Letter: To Jenny, From Boot February 7, 2012
Posted by Akriti Bahal in Feelings, Fiction, Life, Love, Peace, Sad.14 comments
It had not stopped raining all evening, the dark grey clouds scudding across the city skyline until they were swallowed by night. The relentless downpour confided people to their homes, blanketing the street so that all that was audible outside was the occasional swish of tyres on a wet road, or the gurgle of swollen drains, or the brisk footsteps of someone trying to get home.
There were no messages on her answer phone, no winking envelopes suggesting a text message on her mobile. Her emails were confined to junk mails. Her facebook notifications indicated to zilch. She sat cross-legged on the sofa, sipping her second glass of Rum and rereading the text messages brawling and clamoring at her. There lay those letters, which she had begun to believe were only a figment of her imagination, and here were those text messages. She dodged glances between the two. It is nine hours since she left their apartment, but her mind is still humming. She sees the idyllic Boot; his eyes playfully teasing and searching only for his Jenny. She pictures her cosily cuddling with him, she sees her being adamant, being obstinate and yet being pampered by him.
Thiers, she thinks, was a ‘love’ affair that meant something. He was a man who cracked himself open in front of the woman he loved; he sought to understand her and tried to protect her, even from herself. What did she have? A career falling into an abyss each day, no friends and a feelingless partner who hated the word ‘care’.
She knows she shouldn’t drink any more, but she feels angry, mournful, nihilistic. She pours another glass, cries, and rereads their letter again. Like Jenny, she now feels she knows those words by heart.
Being without you – even a few kilometers away – brings me a strange uneasiness of its own. I don’t know what more to say, because I am no speaker but one thing I know for sure is that I love you, I love you very much, and I wanna keep taking care of you just like this for the rest of my life.
She pictures her beau John standing right in front of her, hears him saying the words to her, and alcohol makes the two blur into each other – Boot and John. How does one lift one’s own life out of the mundane and into something epic? Surely one should be brave enough to ‘love’, isn’t it? She pulls her mobile phone from her bag, something dark and bold creeping under her skin. She flips it open to send a text to John, her fingers offish on the keys:
‘Please call. Just once. Need to hear from you please.’
She is giddy as she struggles with the send button. She knows he won’t respond. Conundrum. She presses the delete button.
Her head sinks into her hands and she weeps for Boot, for Jenny; she cries for herself, because nobody will ever love her like he loves Jenny. She cries because she is afraid of her own self, of her thoughts because she makes herself feel miserable and pitiful all the time.
She poleaxes her head subconsciously when she hears the door bell, she gets up to see.
“Hey fatso! Oh my God, scary fatso!”
She blinks, “Rory.”
“Nope, let his ghost in.”
She bites her lip and leans against the wall. There is a brief silence.
He eyes at her with a questioning countenance. She grimaces. “Not been a great evening.It’s fine if you want to go.” He takes another look around, “Well, drunkard! Where’s the tea pan?”
“It was a weird day. I, I -” suddenly she begins to cry again, tears pouring. “I’m sorry I’m soo- I don’t know why I am being so ridiculous.” She feels a hand on her shoulder, “Hey!” he says softly, “Hey, Shhh.. there’s nothing to worry.”
How would you know? She thinks. Nobody knows what is like me. I’m not even sure I know. He gathers her, trying to calm her down, “You’re beautiful and graceful and intelligent. Okay, perhaps not graceful”, he winks. She rests her head against his shoulder.
“I’m afraid.”
“Of?”
Her voice drops to a whisper, “I’m afraid nobody will ever love me like that.”
His eyes softened, his face shrunk a little, as if in sympathy. He picked up the letter and read aloud:
The day I first saw you, I was too shy to even come up and talk to you, and when you talked to me, words refused to come out. I’ve acted weird, I’ve acted crazy just to be noticed by you! I made a joke of myself when I bent down on my knees at the taxi station, but all that teasing of my friends seemed nothing when I got that worldly smile from you. Yes, you blushed! That expression, I have deep stored inside my heart.
Your smile means everything to me and I can go through any suffering to bring that.
She had closed her eyes. His voice, soft as cotton. She imagines how Jenny must have felt to be loved, adored, wanted.
I am not as good as you, but being with you, it makes me feel as if I’m something too. You are my most precious gift which I’ll always keep delicately safe with me.
Suddenly, she is driven out of it, she realizes it was – A dream. She still lays miserably with scattered letters and the Rum bottle.
Presently, -she would die for a hug right now.
I Stare At The Girl Who Stares Back At Me January 19, 2012
Posted by Akriti Bahal in 2012, Feelings, Fiction, Life, Peace, Sad, Satisfaction.Tags: girl in the mirror, having faith, lonely, mirror image, reflections, woman in the mirror
11 comments
Rummaging through the dressing table of my thoughts, fiddling with the hair clips and the barrettes inside the chaotic silver box; searching for that tiny dazzling piece, fishing for an iota of glow and lease which can wash away all the filthy grease; I glance at the mirror. I look at the reflector sitting right in front of me, with a quiescent face much out of haze, gazing at the striking work when light meets its base. It engenders a new soul, which will always remain.
It sees you through when you cry. It hears you, sits with you when you don’t want anyone to pry. It supports you in the scorching Sun, it stays with you in the dark night’s run. When even the street lights fail to ease the plight, it moves along with you in the form of your shadow, so that you don’t lose your way through the seedy plateau.
I stare at the girl who stares back at me. Yeah, the girl in the mirror looking right in my eye with fervor.
Look at me, she says. Do you really recognize me, she surveys. You may think you see who I really am, you may feel you know where I come from. A mere mirror image, is what you call me. But, I am the ‘you’ which nobody besides me gets to see. Now, if I tell you about my part, I’m not just a figure lost in the gloominess of the dark; you can fool the world, but not my heart.
Back in time, you rebelled about the Mask that covers each one of us; trusting your thought, having faith in your insurgent slots, I hoped for more of your adamant chants, if that’s what made you rant. What happened to your expressions now, what blockades them from extruding out? Are they somewhere deep in hiding, or are they just safely residing?
I gaze at the woman in the mirror in amaze, wearing the same mask as me, but with a transparent veil and a higher sage. I utter with unrest, maybe even a little detest, “Who is this girl I see, staring straight back at me?”
I am now, I am you. I am someone that you were to transform and imbue, she expresses with a slight rage as if wanting to come out of the mirrored cage. This time with a saddened look, she shook, I don’t know what lies behind the glassy wall, is it a world where you are forced to hide your heart, or is it something you chose yourself to depart? I don’t know, I just don’t know, but one thing I would echo. There’s a heart that must be free to fly, that burns with a need to know the reasons why, when you keep it beneath a thickened ply.
I scowl as I raise my voice and frown, “Quit or I shall leave. Everybody arrives with their own set of preachings, coming close and then screeching. They know how to categorize and theorize, but nobody really knows how to empathize.”
Her countenance deepened, her brows wrinkled due to the feelings that under went vigorous fissions. And, this time she asked, “Who is this girl I see, staring straight back at me?”
With this she vanished in the hour of commotion, but she still remains with me with the same notion.
Aged A Little January 12, 2012
Posted by Akriti Bahal in Crowd, Feelings, Fiction, Happiness, Peace, Satisfaction.Tags: Aged, Brittle, express
11 comments
I was juvenile when I stood into this thumping line.
The journey was slow 
With each step refusing to give an easy blow.
Sweat droplets; dripping
Heat and Sun; ripping
Deluging crowd, restless to make the first round
Yeah pushing, squashing and crushing;
I took my first-shaky-step
Too timid to make a pep.
Standing in the line
Managing to breathe in the filth, in the grime
Pushing back the crass throng
As if fighting in war time;
I aged a little
Maybe got even more brittle. 
I continued my sheepish-raw-steps
Though examples seemed rather inept.
But, in this course of tan
While the flooded line moved with its own plan
Stepping over you, suffocating you through;
I found a place to rant
To express; which I never could pant.
In this sluggish walk, tip-toeing my way through the flock
I, surely, aged a little
Maybe got even more brittle
But, I did find my piece-of-pax
Even though at the cost of a little tax. 
With the support of the side railings
Gradually entering the house of all ailings
Little by little, metamorphosing into someone more sensible
I regained my voice
Long lost in the miseries of choice.
Yeah, I must have aged a little
Maybe got even more brittle
But, I pulled a pour of my own
That I didn’t have to borrow or loan .
Shambling with endurance
Trying to grip a strenuous balance
Falling, bruising, treading and struggling
I finally reached the door step.
Now its my moment to knock it hard 
And exclaim, without any cowardly regard.
Coz I know I have aged a little
Maybe got even more brittle
But, I received a refuge from impertinence
Gained a shelter filled with breeze,
Away from any hindrance.
The journey will always continue
Just like my feelings will never subdue
And now with this prep,
I take my first step towards the door step.
** This post is dedicated to my blog, which just completed a year. It has been bearing and will keep on silently bearing my expectorates; trying hard to decode my jabberwockies.
With you, I Rise November 25, 2011
Posted by Akriti Bahal in Fiction, Happiness, Love, Movies, Peace.9 comments
“I am no poet”
That’s what I say.
“I just can’t write,
It’s just not my way.”
“I want you to write it,
No, not for me.
But for the trust,
I bestow with glee.”
You say it with serenity,
You say it with ease,
Was this your way
Just to motivate me?
I closed my eyes,
Found you by my side,
Thinking about the day
It still brings me a smile.
When the roaring Sun,
Seemed the coolest breeze.
When we were sufficient
Even for the strongest team.
Some Indian movies
That I will cherish the most;
not for the story,
not for the actors,
not for the work;
I don’t even remember the host.
But, what I remember is,
Your ice-cold hands
Falling on mine
As if sealing a kiss.
Weaving through my fingers
And caressing through my palm,
Suddenly tightening your grip
Finding a place to calm.
My Name Is Khan,
Commenced the jaunt of emotion
Sixteenth February, my eyes captured
Your fresh ruddy complexion.
Karthik Calling Karthik,
Sucked my limit of patience
Third March followed
Our famous screeching silence.
Fiasco flicks never stopped pouring in,
Thirteenth April, Prince,
Couldn’t glue us till its fin.
Raavan rendered a similar role,
But, Twenty Second June,
Continued to drizzle its effect on our soul.
It was a day of our newness
It was the day till our core.
What do you think,
Anjaana Anjaani
Could take over our fondness? This lore?
Seventh October,
With the ‘green-slit Kurti effect’
Worked the opposite,
Instead of a charming concept.
Stygian clouds covered the ceiling,
Darkness obscuring darkness
Anger was revealing.
The year turned around,
Best wishes; hopes; dreams
For our happiness
Filled the atmosphere ground.
No One Killed Jessica! No One Killed Jessica!
Everybody was screaming,
I wonder why our affinity was withering!
Twentieth January, swayed its magic wand
I again saw your beaming eyes,
Complementing your smile
And your roseate tone.
Twenty Second July, was when I found
Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara;
I don’t wanna let mine go
Without a complete round.
These were the movies
That I have cherished the most;
not for the story,
not for the actors,
not for the work;
I don’t even remember the host.
But for your closeness;
But for your scolding;
But for your care;
And most importantly,
But for your glimmering face
Resting on my torso,
Which I cherish the most.
I need no Edward Cullen,
When I have you with me.
Twilight Saga – Breaking Dawn,
Will you fit next in the league?
I see for Fifth December
To bring back time in me,
When the roaring Sun
Seemed the coolest breeze.
When we were sufficient
Even for the strongest team.
Bursting away ‘Youth’ with crackers? October 24, 2011
Posted by Akriti Bahal in Peace, Poverty.Tags: Diwali, pollution
1 comment so far
“You young generation, have no respect for the elders. Always rash!” Says a curmudgeon at the Rajiv Chowk metro station, on being stepped on his foot.
“The youngsters of today are an oversized knapsack of laziness and inactiveness, having impractical ideas! Why don’t they understand that we have more experience!” Declares another man to his colleague, sitting at their office canteen.
“They aren’t even born yet, and they think they know the world.” Pronounces a beldam while crossing a road offhandedly during the rush hour and just saving herself from being hit by four cars.
How many of us come across situations where you are just tagged with misnomers like lazy and ignorant by the people, without going much into the depth of anything? Yeah I know, extraneous question, I need not even ask; because we all are aware of the answer.
When most people think of us – the awkward age, they see us as a horizontal line. One end screams, “Violent! Asbos! Hoodies!” and the other end whispers, “A+ student; liberal; friendly”; the only difference is that at the other end, there is nobody but, we ourselves.
We are lumped into one group or the other. More often than not the only group that is ever reported on is the former. Well, what about the rest of us? I agree, that ill-activities and thieving are reaching aerial heights these days, but why labeling the entire clan as horrendous? And mind you, misdeeds are carried out by people of all levels of maturity, and not specifically the youth. Some maybe belonging to the dark underbelly, but most of us, we are not. We might be crawling with snail steps, but we work very hard just to get a puny appreciation from you folks; just so that we could see our parents standing there with a smile full of pride, it’s just that our ways might be a little different and we have the right to think differently. Don’t we? Or are we just puppets of maven people? We too have the right to experience ourselves and then learn, right? Just like you people did.
In a place where a 16-year old, young Gurbaksh Chahal can set up his first company, ClickAgents and thereby turn up to be among the biggest entrepreneurs in a very short time; where a 4.5-year old, Prakratti Chandra can give discourses to people on eye awareness and motivate people to donate their eyes, and thereby become the brand ambassador of Dristi Suraksha Abhiyan; where a seven-year old Akrit Jaswal, can perform his first medical surgery and turn up to be “world’s smartest boy”; the youth doesn’t turn out to be all that bad as many elderly people might think.
We all our working, you see, its just that every person shines at it’s own pace.
So, why blowing up ‘Youth’ with crackers, and filling your minds with the smoke of delusion about Youngsters?
And, hey youth! Why exploding the peaceful time of Diwali and flaming up the Earth with pollution? Don’t you see the hapless Raju and Rani, sitting there in dark and smiling to the different colours their eyes can see, but not feel. The little Sonu, looking expectantly at you, hoping for a ‘sweet’ Diwali, for himself too. The tender footed Poonam walking bare footed on the splintery road of life, hoping for a cushy and warm Diwali. So, why bursting away ‘Youth’ with crackers?
It’s a Diwali for Raju, Rani, Sonu and Poonam too. That’s what ‘we’ can make, and not blazing up money in fumes; and the Earth in ashes.
Coz that’s why we are misjudged. Time to change that, guys!
Make it a very happy Diwali for yourself and for the Chotu, looking innocently at you. Because, is Diwali aap kisko khush kar rahe hain?
Project: 50 movies I need to see by the end of the Year September 16, 2011
Posted by Akriti Bahal in 2012, entertainment, Happiness, Movies, Nature, Peace, September.10 comments
What? Now stop your wide-eyed phenomena and stop scaring your screen to the extent of dying! Look, it might just start crying now! Of course, I can watch 50 movies by the end of this year, I mean it’s just September, and calculating the 3 months left, it makes it 106 days to finally scream “Happy New Year”! ( I mean ya, despite the fact that we all know that we’re are gonna die by the end of the baby-year. What? Ya ya, of course, I believe that we are gonna die, why not! After all, my cupboard has a cave-man living (Jumanji) and I’m from Narnia!). Anyway, it might be a dreaded year for some, (although I know that ‘some’ is limited only to the ancient lot but, yeah we do have some senile neophytes too, after all it’s 2012! C’mon! forgotten the eminent prediction? Yeah, right! ) but for most of us, it’s just something awaited, so that we can just plunge into, on 13/12/12 and say, “Ahaa! I’m still alive.” (Though we don’t really care.)
Yes, I agree and I’m very much familiar (infact we all are) with the problem that Earth is facing in the present day and age. Of course, we all (here in Delhi) experienced the abrupt, but austere earthquake on 7th September 2011, and we are experiencing it daily, the furies of Mother Nature, in forms of acrid rains with staccato thunders and the hasty weather conditions subsisting. It’s just the wrathful Mother Nature giving us a -‘WARNING! DEAD END AHEAD!’ and alerting us that it’s high time, we start looking into our humanly-destructive-actions. C’mon, if not now, then when guys! Surely, we don’t want these abrupt rains (and such weather anomalies) all the time.
Anyway, not deviating from my movie-madness anymore now, (although I know, I’ve already crossed all the limits of digression, but it’s better late than.. Oh! C’mon! Deal with it!) Okay, so coming back to my calculation of 106 days. Yeah, that seems quite an affluent time, no? I mean of course, cutting down 6 days for my next-most-recent exams plus 4 more days for my one set of practicals (plus 8 more for the other set) plus 30 more days for more exams and also, not to forget the crazy schedule of my dear college, so cutting another 18 days, I get a sumptuous time of (drum-roll) ’40′ days, surfeit no? Huh.
But, just when the cruelties of my college transcends , I rise up with my new madness (Haha). Movies are something I have enjoyed watching my whole life, but it wasn’t until a few years ago that I had fallen in love with them. As a casual fan for so many years, I missed out on a lot of great movies. In order to continue to push myself to see more great movies, I have compiled this list of 50 movies I must see before the end of the year. Fifty seemed like a low number — and it probably is — but now I think it would be a fair amount to squeeze in amidst the winter madness. These are 50 movies from all eras, and I made sure to include some genres and directors that I want to familiarize myself with. Some are more important than others, but these are all films that I have heard quite a bit about and therefore would like to indulge in them.
This will be an ongoing project with my ultimate deadline being to have seen all of these by the end of the year.
The Final List:
1.) It’s a Wonderful Life [1946]
2.) The Sound of Music [1965]
3.) The Godfather [1972]
4.) The Godfather: Part II [1974]
5.) Annie Hall [1977, Allen]
6.) Breaking Away [1979]
7.) Norma Rae [1979]
8.) Airplane! [1980]
9.) Grave of the Fireflies [1988]
10.) My Left Foot [1989]
11.) Scent of a Woman [1992, Martin Brest]
12.) Unforgiven [1992]
13.) A Few Good Men [1992, Reiner]
14.) A River Runs Through It [1992, Redford]
15.) Schindler’s List [1993, Spielberg]
16.) Philadelphia [1993]
17.) Twelve Monkeys [1995, Gilliam]
18.) Braveheart [1995]
19.) Earthquake [1974]
20.) Good Will Hunting [1997]
21.) Volcano [1997, Mick Jackson]
22.) October Sky [1999]
23.) Dancer in the Dark [2000]
24.) Unbreakable [2000]
25.) Mr. Holland’s Opus [1995]
26.) Training Day [2001, Fuqua]
27.) Minority Report [2002]
28.) Chariots of Fire [1981]
29.) Road to Perdition [2002, Mendes]
30.) The Pianist [2002]
31.) Seabiscuit [2003]
32.) Hulk [2003]
33.) Hotel Rwanda [2004, George]
34.) Hidalgo [2004]
35.) Million Dollar Baby [2004]
36.) The Machinist [2004]
37.) Crash [2004]
38.) National Treasure [2004, Turteltaub]
39.) Ray [2004]
40.) Coco Avant Chanel [2009]
41.) Munich [2005]
42.) The World’s Fastest Indian [2005]
43.) The Prestige [2006, Nolan]
44.) The Departed [2006]
45.) Zodiac [2007]
46.) The Kite Runner [2007]
47.) Dark Knight [2008]
48.) Wall-E [2008, Stanton]
49.) Shutter Island [2010]
50.) The King’s Speech [2010]
And now, the clock has begun. Tik Tok! Tik Tok! Tik Tok Tik!
Wake Me Up When September Ends. September 5, 2011
Posted by Akriti Bahal in Autumn, Happiness, Peace, September, Summer.6 comments
Sallow dried leaves covering the roads, crushing against your feet as you walk past the groves. The sound of *crisp* and the echo of *crunch*, following you with every step, pouring into your ears like nothing less than descant.
The amber scenery taking over the greenery. The jewels of golden leaves and the gems of gleamy petals, pervasive everywhere till the eyes can encounter.
Fall is here! It’s autumn, the year’s last loveliest smile, my dear! (By the way, did you notice, I’ve been rhyming all this while. Nah, I’m just bragging, here!)
It’s the end of summer, but the beginning of memories. Summer in Delhi, has always been related to scorching, sweltering and to the peaks of temperatures rising to new levels each season. But, have you ever waited to think, what comes along? Yes, memories, they do! (Yea I know, now you would be thinking, with what does memories don’t come along. Be it any period of the day, any day of the month, any month of the year, or even any year of your life, memories find their own way in everything. Then what’s so special about Summer? Well.) Remember seeing the person you love, dressed, in sunset? And just to make it perfect, the Sun – sealing it with a kiss. Remember the long drives with your beloved till the breeze of the nights? (Now, well that’s surely not the thing you look forward to, during the winters unless, of course, you are Vampires and nothing but blood-freezing chill is all that satiates you!) Remember the activeness of Summer? When our hearts are as free as our toes. When laziness is forced to leave the town, just to leave an active World around. (Ooh! And here I rhyme again!)
Keeping my memories of every Summer I have witnessed, from the swimming lessons, to the cycling races, to the play-times being extended to the dead of the nights, to the night-saunterings, to the long drives et al, comfortably ensconced, I move on to a new chapter – The Autumn. (And of course, since sadness has been another name for me lately, so how can she be allowed to feel desolate here. And nah, she hasn’t. Infact she has been my most staunch companion but let’s not go there today, for a change.)
Autumn is a strange season of it’s own kind. It wins you over from the heart, but a melancholy sets in. You love the pleasant breezes, yet everything seems dull. Remember, even it’s name is ‘Fall’. (Yeah I know, now where your minds are rolling, that she’s such a whiny-beany that she can’t even leave seasons aside, but you know right, that my blue devil companion can never be left lonesome. So, don’t hurt her! But, let’s just not go there today, for a change.)
Anyway, two thoughts drawing a sketch of quirk here :
Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
Autumn wins you best by this, its mute Appeal to sympathy for its decay.
Ironical, isn’t it?
But, September is here and Summer has gone, and all I can wish for, is euphoria for a transform. And, if Autumn can’t give me solace this moment, then Wake Me Up When September Ends. (Didn’t I just rhyme again?)
