The Hills Have Eyes

A motley group of family and friends come together for a holiday.

Typical of a Bengali family, it is noisy and centres around food. 

The film begins with death, keeping the identity a surprise, it then starts at the beginning when there is so much life.

A family holiday in a small isolated hill town, set in the ‘70s.

A man bullied, his virtues of manhood questioned.

The only one who is innocent, sensitive and vulnerable. The rest take him for granted, bullying him at every opportunity they get. 

His torment is visible and his helplessness painful.

There is talk of ghosts and death. He is needled and used by the rest of the gathering. 

There is a quiet anger and shame simmering within, beautifully portrayed in silence by Vikrant Massey. 

It is obvious he is the outsider, he wants to belong,  It is only in the sweater he finds his belonging. With the dead. 

The underlying calmness during tense situations, suddenly becoming a show of power, the brooding Kalki Koechlin watching, taking what she wants, leaving behind a sense of doom for Shuntu. The young Tani, his only companion, knowing what he goes through, but too young to be taken seriously. 

The loud humour always there, comes too soon, brash to diffuse the tension and move away fast from impending danger. 

The movie is slow, it is not for the Bollywood song and dance viewers, it talks through its silence. 

The quiet glance, the all seeing eyes through screens and windows, the graveyard, the association with death, even while living, the 23 year old outcast who is more at ease with the 7 year old than with the adults around him. 

The need to conform, but happier being a distant observer.

It is about failure and the inability to accept it, there is love at times, his aunt’s affection the only real thing.  

You wait for death, will it be suicide or murder......

Though everything in the film is a build-up towards its undeserved tragic climax, but when it does finally unfold, it leaves you jarred just the same. 

People are blinded by their egos and pride, their lust and greed, their masculinity and femininity.

Only the hills have eyes.

"A Death in the Gunj" by Konkona Sen Sharma

Story of My Life

Situations are changing, nothing can be taken for granted anymore.

My life right now is in turmoil, there is uncertainty ahead of me, decisions which have been forced on me. 

When my opinions do not matter and  remain stuck in my throat and cause anger to pulsate in every nerve of my body. 

I run to allow the anger to flow out of my body, signing up for a virtual challenge has helped me focus and stay sane. 

The questions I ask myself: am I right in feeling this emotion, am I being unreasonable or expecting too much?

We look for events to be grateful for, since a heart filled with gratitude, overlooks the pain. 

I dig into my past, I recollect sad, painful failures, disappointments and what helped me get through each such event.

I recollect happy occasions, trips in the past with friends, memories created with family. 

How did I get through those phases to create better moments for myself, what kind of reserve did I have in me to accept the situation and bounce back?

I talk to friends, I realise they all have a past and a present and even with the uncertainty they still look towards the future.

How each of us cope, lies within us and we all have a story to tell.

Right from the school friend whose dad died when she was young and was brought up by a single mother, she sees God in her mom.

To the college friend whose mom suffered a cancer and died during a crucial stage in her life, she grew up with her dad, learning to take care of themselves and then seeing her dad suffering a stroke, she took care of him, teaching herself how to meet his changing needs. 

To the friend who died suddenly and let her young daughters speak a story of resilience.

I learn from my personal story, seek support from others through their stories. 

The key to resilience lies in picking up the relevant bits, piecing them together and creating new life stories for ourselves. 

It matters how we write the story, do we wallow in the negativity and bitterness or look at the outcomes and the path taken to get there. 

This helps us live a life of gratitude and strength. 

I remember many years ago, while my friends and I did the Mumbai Oxfam trail walker. 

The trail was slippery, the climb steep, the path narrow with sharp rocks and overgrown bushes. Nothing during our training had prepared us for this mentally or physically.

We slipped, we sighed, we cried, laughed, pushed ahead through the pain, not knowing if or when the path would improve. 

It did and we celebrated the simple joy of facing the challenge, not giving up, surviving it to tell our story. 

Being cheerful and optimistic always is not the best way to deal with life. Face the problems, experience the painful emotions, cope with the grief, remember to be kind to yourself at each stage.

Choose the story you want to live, live the story you want the world to see. 

Your story makes me bounce back, inspires me to look ahead. 

My story can change your life someday.

Speak, Listen......

Cleveland Rocks

I lived 30 minutes away from Shaker Heights, OH. It was the place we went to when we wanted to look at Halloween themed lawns, well decorated Christmas homes, perfection.

So reading the book set in such a perfect familiar location was a must.

I knew the basic storyline, I try and avoid reading in depth reviews and spoilers before I read a book much raved about. 

It is about the perfect Richardson family with the perfect settled in home and the imperfect Warrens with their hand me downs, nomadic life. 

How both their lives merge and integrate. 

How the children Lexie, Trip, Moody and Izzie warm up to Pearl and Mia, 

How hearts expand, homes expand to take on more than its capable of. 

How societal pressures makes us all puppets getting entangled in the hanging threads which are our lives.

 How privileges win over righteous.

How one person’s judgements colour morality and virtuousness.

 How sex changes everything, not just with the two of you but everyone around you.

This is a powerful story in a very silent form. We crave for love in the most unexpected places. The routine, the given are luxuries even for the one’s who seem to have it all. 

The  author delves into the mysteries of relationships, why it always seems that the other has it better. About motherhood, the bond. 

Not necessarily finding the love in your own but seeking it in people shunned by society. 

How secrets, misunderstandings and miscommunication can cause so much damage.

Why we need to care, the lives we touch and change because of love. 

“It came, over and over, down to this: What made someone a mother? Was it biology alone, or was it love?”

The book focuses more on the plot and getting there, rather than building characters of the children to justify their action. 

They are spoilt and have always got what they wanted. Except for one. 

The beginning is the ending and the story is more of a build up towards the conclusion justifying the act.

I would like to watch the TV series to see how they could recreate the passion which like fire can burn a house down.

As things are going out of my control in my life right now, I feel this is what resonates with me most. No, I would not burn my house down, but would like to start over. 

“Sometimes you need to scorch everything to the ground and start over. After the burning the soil is richer, and new things can grow. People are like that, too. They start over. They find a way.”

Celeste Ng- Little Fires Everywhere

A Promise Kept

Words can move you, words have the power to transform your life,

Words can take you places within and outside.

This one book made me cry. 

The tears rolled down my cheek as I read. I could not stop, I finished 380 pages in half a day. I had to be part of the journey. 

So well does this author weave magic into her books. 

I read one of her books ( The Nightingale) early this year and wanted to explore more of her writing, but delayed buying anymore books due to the lockdown and need to check my spendings. 

When I realised the lockdown was not going to ease, I needed solace, I an ardent paperback lover, turned digital.

It took a while to get used to, but the love for reading converted me quickly. 

This book is not my life, it is nothing related to my experiences.

Yet I could feel the loss and need to belong in the main characters.

It deals with friendship, teenage years, the carefree lives, the age my daughters are at right now.

Maybe I do see a little bit of them in the characters, that is why I cried so much or maybe I wish they had that life as shown in the lives of the characters and that is why the aching. 

Or maybe my fragile mind can't take so much of emotional drama.

It is about love, loss, fear, retribution, guilt.  Sacrifice, second chances. Abandonment, Forgiveness. Mortality and living while dead inside. 

It is a rollercoaster ride  and emotional marathon. It drains you, every word wrings your heart, you don’t stop, you go on, you finish and then when you finish you are left in a state of shock but content. Her writing is so heartfelt, you know this is not a real life account, yet you believe it could be true.  

The characters come to life with her writing, the emotions are not just words but experience you go through. 

" Maybe time did not heal wounds exactly, but it gave you a kind of armor or a new perspective. A way to remember with a smile instead of a sob"

Its about love yes, a mother’s fierce love, which sometimes seems overbearing, a child’s easy going take everything for granted love, a father’s caring seemingly distant love. The mystery and excitement of first love. Love between friends, powerful, all consuming, 

The relationships so real.  I was left remembering first loves, curfews, strict parenting. 

The ending came too soon, forgiveness takes time for me, sometimes I fool myself into thinking I have accepted and moved on.
So when the storyline changed into a more forgiving and giving nature, I felt the author is trying to tell me something and that made me cry even more.

This is one book which will remain etched in me forever, I have not shed so much tears over mere words in a long time. 

"People think love is an act of faith", her mother said. " Sometimes it's an act of will"

Kristin Hannah- Night Road 

The Journey So Far

Week 0: WFH is a must. It will help get the rest I need as well as get so much done

Week 1-2: Oh this is what I always wanted, I am working so much without unnecessary disruptions, family time!!  Hugs and chatting with kids.

Week 3-4: I can save up all my vacation time and use them later, productivity is at its max and I have completed all my pending tasks 

Week 5-6: Is it safe to go to office just for an hour, how does my mother think I can do the dishes, cook, clean and work> 

Week 7-8: How can I avoid this call? Why do they trouble me so much with just a query?

Week 9-10: My family hates me, I hate my family, I miss my desk and chair, the noisy open office is better than the constant noise of calls, my kids classes, the TV my parents watch

Week 11-12:  What day is it? Does it matter? The whole week feels like one long day

Week 13-14: Oh my office clothes are missing me, maybe I should get dressed in my office clothes today? let me rearrange my cupboard

Week 15-16: My back hurts, my eyes ache, ears are sore, thighs feel like lead, I wish I had a feature phone, can I have my coffee hot and in peace at least one day 

I am surrounded by people at home, luckily we moved into a larger apartment 1 1/2 years ago and the extra room has been a relief. 

Teens are not entertaining, old parents are not very reasonable, there are days I doubt my love for my family. 

I yearn for an escape into another world I don't know exists>  A world without laptop, internet, Phones, Network.

There is just no way to switch off!

I experimented with turning off notifications and turning the phone on silent mode after 7:00 PM, this made me miss few important calls. 

Never again, My job is to be there for my people

My phone rules my life!!  I hug my laptop more often than my kids.

I miss seeing people, the inability to read people’s body language, its a trade off between video calls and allowing their bandwidth to stretch for a little longer 

I am exhausted. This life is exhausting. Working is exhausting. After working, maintaining a home is even more exhausting. Cooking and cleaning after is exhausting. Waking up everyday to the same thing and going through it all over again is exhausting  

I crave sleep, but insomnia is my best friend ( only??) these days So I watch movies, read books, lie awake staring into the darkness

Week 17-18: Work from home fatigue is real.

WFH is over rated ... it’s very difficult to get work done.

Perfect Strangers

Why do some people still venture out despite the pandemic, even with lockdown in place, there were crowds on the roads.

The government has opened up everything to the public,  allowing us to decide for ourselves what is safe and right to do.

So we go wherever we want, sometimes remaining cautious, we are not fully back yet to the way we were before.

My daughters miss their friends, seeing them, going out with them, the hugs, the carefree times, sitting at pizzerias and eating their favourite food, sleepovers, random window shopping. They can name the friends they miss, the places they miss.

It is different for me, I don't have any particular friend or activity I miss. I am not yearning for a person to talk to or "hang out with"

No, I am not video chatting with my friends or constantly talking to them or messaging them. 

But I do miss" People"  The general crowd I watch as I go to work, the cobbler who used to sit near the vegetable shop, the pani puri seller whom I never patronised , the crowds around his stall, the push cart chow-mein seller at night with his dank oily noodles, I miss the random people waiting for a cup of hot tea at the darshini next to our apartment. Even the drunk tottering on the road causing nuisance to passing walkers.

They were all part of my life as I knew it. The life I hated, the crowds, the unhygienic conditions, the noise they made, despised them for crowding the footpaths, blocking my path, the garbage strewn on the roads in the morning.  

They were the extras in my life, beyond siblings, parents, kids and colleagues. The ones we love to hate, but realise we miss most. I do not miss going to a play or concert or a movie, those were the elite class, and a luxury I indulged in occasionally.  I miss seeing people who were part of my normal life, the desperate crowd which survived on the streets.

I remember my first visit to the Americas.  The first few days of snow, quiet, silence were enthralling, like I lived in a winter wonderland, I welcomed the silence after living in a noisy city. Once the weekend was gone and I was alone at home,  the silence was new to me, there were no horns blaring, no brakes shrieking, no kids screaming, I did not see people, no one came out, looking out of my bedroom window I saw blankness, whiteness, stark, empty. Lovely apartments, well kept roads, but no people.  I went a whole week without seeing anyone other than my husband.  I waited for the weekend, I waited for spring, waiting for the people to come out. I waited for strangers whom I had never seen!!  And I had left my familiar home, job for my husband, so why did that not keep me satisfied?  

That is how I feel now. During the first few days of lockdown the silence was welcome, the staying at home was celebrated with gratitude, we allowed ourselves to get sucked into a " new normal”  There was peace and solitude, that we once chased after and seemed unattainable. Family time was precious. 

That same peace and solitude now seeps into our skins, our heart, our mind, turns into depression, it has become normal to mention that word, We miss people, the ones who are part of our daily mundane life we once hated. We are miserable without people.

I do not miss friends, I miss the act of sitting in a restaurant and watching others,  the companionship they offer being so far away but being in close proximity, I miss the comfort a waiter offers when he comes and asks me if I am enjoying my meal. "Thank you" mouthed when someone comes in to clean the table for me.

We take these for granted at home, we cook, we clean, we serve, there is no second thought to all this. We take our people for granted, never grateful for the company we still have.  We are dead inside, and feel alive when we go outside. 

Today movies and books offer me the solace I seek, the people I do not get to see, I see them through movies, walk along with them in my books. 

Social interactions with the known and unknown has been the key to our survival since millions of years. Many strangers  have contributed to this survival and living. Overcoming our primal urge to socialise goes against our evolutionary conditioning. The spread of the virus has capitalised on this inherent nature of people. 

The lockdown has taught me that I need variety and I feed off the energy of society, including the ones whose lives have never intersected in ours and just being an audience in the sanctimonious and ostentatious society.

The stigma of the virus has made my society disappear. The extras in our lives left affected and scared. 

"Maybe we're perfect strangers

Maybe it's not forever

Maybe the night will change us

Maybe we'll stay together

Maybe we'll walk away

Maybe we'll realize

We're only human

Maybe we don't need no reason?

Perfect Strangers- Jonas Blue

Love Is All You Need

Why is letting go such a difficult  process?

Most soulful ballads are about the pain of letting go of an unrequited love, of a lost love, death of a loved one.

Holding onto grief, sorrow is treasured, we can never accept another's kind words when they ask us to let go.

Letting go of something /someone you love is never easy.

But sometimes it is necessary to help the other person grow and lead a better life, holding on to them only holds them back.

We Indians are familiar with the difficulty in letting go, we are by nature hoarders. 

Of  kid cycles long after they have outgrown them, their books, irons which don't work, clothes that may one day fit again, feelings, emotions, our grown up children.

I have grown up children, almost nearing the college going age. 

My daughter tells me " Ma, I'm 17", she still wants her cuddles, comes for a hug, Won't lift a finger to help around at home, I have been around always to do things for her, often ignoring my own priorities and needs to ensure I'm there for her. This is common of most moms I know, though we deny that we control them and are growing independent children, we know we want to hold them close to us as long as possible. 

We worry about how they would manage in the big bad world all by themselves, yet we know they need to go out and fight the wolves. I also know they need to go out, fend for themselves, experience more than what I can offer. I do know there are adversities we have faced together and overcome them for now, still unsure of what the future has in store and can she manage on her own.

Going by the movie plot, I thought I would cry my heart out, surprisingly I did not, the approach of the director to not make it an emotional melodrama, but more of a focused plan to succeed made this movie memorable for me.

Set in the mid 40's with poverty and difficulty post war affecting daily living, the large Mississippi family also faces one more struggle- a "Mongoloid Idiot" a newborn with Down’s syndrome.

Back in those years of struggle, many did not have the means or understanding to raise a child who needed so much support. Jewel, the main protagonist, the mom, takes things in her control, defies the experts who declare the baby won't survive beyond 2 years and dedicates her life to serving her different child at the expense of the well being and care of her other children.

Jewel firmly believes that with enough love, she can turn around the disabilities and cure the child. She urges the family to trust in that and picks on the nanny when she does not support that belief. 

Yet they manage, they all survive the struggling years, the family moves to California to give a better life to the special child. They stick together, love each other through the many adversities they continue to face.

Jewel's real struggle comes when she needs to make a decision to let go of the daughter she has taken care of always, met her every need, loving, but fearful all the time.

Watch it to renew your faith in love, though love did not make the child whole mentally and physically, but held the family together and created a safe haven for the well loved child.

A mother's yearning to hold back, the struggle to let go, knowing it's not going to be easy, but trusting that it will be the best for her daughter. 

Jewel- a TV movie.