The death of Samaritans

When my Arabian Scicom trainer told me he preferred the kind of privacy he has gained since coming to Malaysia in comparison to the overtly-concerned Arabians back in his country, I couldn't but to help but raise an eyebrow.

I'll take a love nuisance any day over ignorance. Wouldn't we all? Ask the Malaysians, the pure Malaysians who have actually lived all these years outside their comfort zone, and have actually been faced with situations which left them lurching for help from somewhere.

One thing is for sure- the so-called 'privacy' mentioned before is not something that we Malaysians can smile about, nor to be even proud of. Most importantly- it's about time the alarm bells rang for us- it's nothing to be ignorant about as well- at least not anymore.

Ignorance ain't a bliss anymore.

Not when a couple of lazy petrol bunk assistants have become so disilluioned that their buts would have teared off if they had carried a fire extinguisher and passed it off to a hoillering Samaritan whose nerves are wrangling out for a girl literally burning to death inside a car.

Listen to a piece of that story and immediately the image of two lazy, or if could even mention, utterly stupid guys looking out as if they can't comprehend a a simple call for help, the simple urge of an accident, or above all, the rocking value of a life strikes across your mind. Then you think, would they be just as blurred when they are trapped in a car with the petrol leaking and they know they are burning to death?

The kind of ignorance that we have stamped on ourselves have become so overwhelming that we have accustomed to turn a blind eye to so many things- things that even decides life or death. Like when I was lying on a road drenched in serious wounds and found out that passers-by who apparently have no urgent work to attend to would rather wait for me to clear the road myself rather than helping me up.

Here's a fact we have to embrace- beneath the face of the elegant, ever-growing with tall buildings man that we have epitomized ourselves with over the years- there lies an ugly truth.

The man is actually a lazy, ignorant one. If over the years the individual determination of that man's cells helped him rise up taller than some of his counterparts and build a respectable image for himself, the lazy, one dimensional, selfish natures of his cells will eventually spell the ruins of the very man. The cells which built him had lost their original vision, and are now drifting, many colliding with each other in their destinations.

The man is now short-sighted and one dimensional at the core. It'll be only a matter of time before it eats into his entire body.

Will the cells change? At least don't let someone die when you can afford to prevent it while seating at your very comfort zone.

And the one who dies wasn't a hapless young lady, but the one the two attendants actually murdered was the little left off from the good nature of Malaysians. Next time a Samaritan wakes up, he might think twice. And what will be the consequences of that Samaritan thinking twice?

R.I.P

The warrior will be alright.

It’s dusk. The sun sets solemnly across the horizon- the warrior loves dusk. He has always felt that the spates of colors strewn across the sky at dusk leave behind a flicker that the eyes will never feast upon at any other time of the day. He sat at the nearby branch, a sole stricken one in the middle of an unknown desert, and he looked up towards the sun. The cloudy horizon have made the sun hardly visible to the naked eye. A faint light shimmering beyond the thin veil of clouds, that was all his eyes could muster to witness at the time.

The thin haze that has been coating the horizons around the place on a consistent basis had also deprived the warrior of his most cherished view- a peek towards the top of the mountain- bright and glistening. Every time he witnesses that peak, he feels like he does belong to that peak, to reach there one day has been etched in his destiny.

But now, there is no dusk, no mountain. All that exists was him, the desert, and the village, a village which he had long assumed would be an useful pit stop in order for him to reach his dreams. The warrior did not like it the moment he arrived in this village- where everyone worked very hard in premeditated routines in order to win the breads to survive the day. The warrior wasn’t an exception in this- he wasn’t given a prince treatment- he had to work to win his bread- for he has to wait until the clouds clear and the sun can rise up confidently and unleash its ray on earth without any barriers again.

Now, as the warrior lay against the sole broken branch in the middle of a dry desert on which the village is located, he feels exhausted, tired, dread. The everyday routine at the village had had its taxes on his energy and enthusiasm. His resources are drained by the end of the day, and he couldn’t have his daily glance beyond the horizons to look at the peak of the mountains that he wishes to conquer one day.

What is happening to his life? Where have his dreams brought him to? Why is the haze so thick he can’t see his destination? He abandoned a kingdom of comfort, security, all to secure the reality of this one dream- he travelled through ages of uncertainty about where his destination would lie, spent so many years of the journey travelling all alone- but as long as he was on the move, when he had his evenings by the crystal clear lake, or under an autumn tree drooping with gorgeous brown leaves, practicing the art of swinging and slinging his sword, as his horse fed on the natural leaves at every stop he pauses at, looking at her master in awe and loyalty.

Today, the sword rusts in the little camp, in which the warrior retires every night- and the warrior shoots the sword a glancing, solemn look, wondering when the time will come for him to ride off into the sunset again, the sword piercing elegantly across his back. His horse waits tied outside the camp, feeding on the same grass everyday, entitled to the same routine the warrior is being subjected to.

The warrior sits and contemplates, wishes he is on the move rather than remaining here- but this is the pit stop he needs to take in order to reach the peak of the mountain. He is made to be on the move, not to rut in a rust. He is made to conquer that peak, not to sit idle doing regular work.

But then he thinks of that sunny day where, when the warrior did not know which direction he should take to reach the mountains which seemed so distant away- when a saint appeared while the warrior was walking on a bed of tulips holding hands with his princess.

The saint pointed in this direction- on the first morning in which the princess held his hand- the direction of this small village; that the warrior should start a life there, and that’s where his journey would have its starting point. The warrior knew there and then, that it was a sign, for he was holding the princess’ hands when the saint looked down from the high hills and pointed his ageing stick in this village’s direction. Upon which the princess gave him a warm smile- so wide it made his insides tingle with joy and warmth.

The warrior walked deeper into his tent, wondering about the crossroads and uncertainty he is facing in his life. Every warrior has to trudge a path of mud in order to be worthy champions. This is his alley of mud. An alley where he can lose all that he is- where he has to hold on tight in order to retain his will, passion and dreams. That is his test.

The pain is true, the discomfort is true, the itchy feet is true, the difficulty is true. But the warrior has accepted it- come to terms with it. This is what will make him a worthy champion.

But as he lies down his head gently on the princess’ shoulders with her brimming smile still there, he knows for a fact- it’ll be alright.

Raavan- Movie Review

Do we judge the qualities of our lives and that of our own self with a contrast as simple as black and white, good or bad? That is what Mani Ratnam had tried to bring out with his densely shot 'Raavan'. It took Mani and his team a grueling three years to complete this flick, which says alot about the kind of effort it took to shoot the movie in the dense forests of Madya Pradesh.

First of all, Raavan is one of those movies that can't be compared with Mani's previous works. Some may claim it is not on par with his other movies, while some may claim it is as good as any. Admittedly Mani's best movie to date, Iruvar, had a similar response during its initial release before it picked up steam and played to the gallery of classics around a decade later. Raavan might fall in the same mould- few years from now, it'll be seen as a classic.

Mani seems to cut loose whatever is left of the thin veil of ropes that tied him from fully expressing his ideas in his previous movies, and he executes Raavan with a newfound freedom- thus pushing the envelope further as far as the qualities of his own movies go. We all saw what happened when Mani went bold in Iruvar- the movie collapsed on a commercial structure, and like someone who failed in a first real jump, Mani was very subtle in the movies that he made after 'Iruvar', and it took him some time to attempt something with complete boldness again- and by some time I mean 13 years. Because it's only in Raavan that he rediscovers that touch.

Even Iruvar wasn't a perfect movie, but it was classic- so much to the extent that even the unanswered grey aspects of the movie, the hanging threads, and the flaws have come to be accepted to be part of what makes the movie even greater- and Raavan's imperfections might work the same way, they will dissolve as time passes by- and the movie will be accepted as one to be remembered for a long time to come.

To begin with the story- Beera (Abhishek) is another one of Mani's Nayakan moulded character. A man who stands firmly at the wrong side of the law, but not necessarily at the wrong side of life on a larger scale. He is at logger heads with Dev (Vikram), a ruthless local policemen who is hell bent in killing Beera, and thus erasing the image of a lawbreaker ruling the roosts in the rustic rural area of Lal Maati. Once Dev and his fellow policemen contribute heavily to the ill-fated death of Jamuniya (Priyamani)- Beera's stepsister, Beera goes out for revenge. He savages few of Dev's colleagues, and abducts Ragini (Aishwarya Rai), Dev's apple of the eye. Beera vows to kill Ragini within 14 hours of abduction to avenge for his sister, but when Ragini's lack of fear strikes him like a bolt of thunder, Beera retracts from the stance and instead keeps her alive- an act that would set a motion of unprecedented events and upturn of emotions leading to an emotional and poetic climax.

Abhishek Bachchan without doubt is Mani's personal favorite, and Beera was tailor made for him. He plays the character with such effervescence that his facial expressions alone are sufficient to deliver the kind of emotional turmoil he goes through when he starts falling in love with Ragini. He gives a weak look full of love at one glimpse of his vulnerable moment, and at the very next, he returns to his sadistic smile that is his trademark. He comes across as a good-hearted character who shouts out loud to the world that he is indeed a ten-headed Raavan, and a devil in order to hide his own soft side. You start by despising Beera's madness, slowly get intrigued by the layers of emotions he has within himself, and you start adoring him towards the end of the movie. On another day and at the hands of a lesser actor, the character Beera can easily come across as just being a pure psycho, but Abhi prevents that with great deliverance. Every little detail of his performance is polished put exceptionally, so much so that when he finally strings together a dialogue to express himself, no matter how short or incomplete, you'd know what he was actually saying. This is Abhi's best career performance to date, and betters even Guru in many aspects.

Aishwarya Rai never lost an ounce of elegance even after all those years, she looks genuinely charming even in the scenes where she is thrashing about in torn clothes with dirt smearing all over her body. And her performance is no less elegant as well. She stands out well in the plethora of visually poetic scenes between Abhi and her, and yet she stands her ground, and makes the duel and the battle of eyes even more interesting. She is convincing in the latter half when she is torn by her blossoming care for Raavan and also her existing love for Dev, as the two men seem to be heading on a collision course- she struggles to differentiate black and white anymore, which is what the film is all about. In short, Mani tells us the story through Ash's bewildered eyes- the entire darkness and gray shades about it.

Vikram is convincing as the ruthless policeman, and also manages to bring out well the demonic obsession that consumes him towards the end of the movie, when he was killing people at the snap of a finger just to get Beera. His need to get Beera weighs over his need to find Ragini, the kind of obsession not associated with a typified 'good guy'. As Raavan shows love and care for the woman, Dev shows more thirst for blood that tends to be justified by his khaki uniform. The gray shades of Dev were so effortlessly brought forward by the National-award winner.

Priyamani leaves a lasting impact despite her brief appearance, and manages to evoke sympathy for her ill-fated character- a good cameo to get herself introduced in Bollywood. Govinda is underutilized, but manages to evoke humor in the eariler scenes that he was part of- as the story focused more on Beera's side of things.

Technically the film is too good, in one word. Santosh Sivan returns to wield the camera for the larger part of the movie, for the first time since 'Dil Se', and his camerawork is simply mindblowing, not to take any credit away from V.Mani Kandan, who was also the joint cinematographer. The denseness of the jungle, and the depth of the river are simple natural settings, but the way the shots are composed makes this one of the most, if not the most visually poetic movie ever made in Indian cinema. Scenes between Abhi and Ash especially deserve special mention- the shots used for the song 'Behene De' steals your breath away. Mani stays true to his common principles of using natural lights for his films and it is evident again in Raavan.

Kudos should go to every member of the production team for executing the film with such a natural look in such a difficult location- every actor is made to work and go through genuine physical barriers to enact their roles, as it is evident in the movie.

AR Rahman's music as usual carries the film forward almost single handedly at times. There is a variation of music for every different setting, for every different mood, and what tops it all is ARR's own slow humming song 'Uduja' that is used heavily during the climax, bringing out the exact emotional content of the moments.

'Thok De Killi', 'Khilli Re' and 'Kata Kata' carry Mani's usual trademark of songs being executed exceptionally well, as the choreography of all three songs captivates a great deal.

Mani excels in writing the couple of plot twists in the lead up to the climax, and perhaps his biggest achievement would be that despite the plot twist, he doesn't lose the core emotional content that sets the film running. Mani may have not written the dialogues himself, but staying true to his trademark of minimal dialogue usage, the dialogues are great whenever delivered, especially around the climax and the emotional scenes between Ash and Abhi. Vijay Krishna Acharya lost so much credibility after his Tashan flopped that he was sacked from Yash Raj Productions, but with his dialogues for Raavan alone, has attained himself from credibility again, as it looks like he is still Mani's trusted ally in that particular department.

All in all, Raavan has its flaws and unfinished threads- but it is by no means a cumbersome movie- in fact it is a classic for that very reason- the film ends like an open ended question, a question that reverts back to the audiences, to pick up the pieces and find the Ram and Raavan within their own selfs as they makes their way home. Some might say this movie is not for everyone- it is in fact for everyone. But some might find it hard to stomach or dismiss it. But give it sometime and it'll grow back on you.

Mani Ratnam is a gem for the Indian film industry. And with a great deal of help from his actors and technical team, he proves that once again with Raavan.

A couple of cheers and now the wait begins for the next Mani Ratnam film. :)

Rating: 9/10

p.s.- don't listen to the critics. They don't make movies. Mani Ratnam does.

Taran Ardash, please humbly quit reviewing movies.

The new rainbow

The warrior once sat down bespectacled, wondering if at all he will attain what he desired. What he wanted. He is still making that journey, but the perennial doubts keep visiting him, throwing him into a whirlwind of uncertainty. Is this a battle that he has to fight alone? Will it be a futile one? Is he making a journey in which the destination will never materialize?

Word of wisdom had drained his ears. Some wise man had once told him that when you want something so badly, the whole universe will conspire to make you achieve it. The warrior knew for sure that his destination is not even remotely close yet- the only way to continue is to keep going despite all the uncertainties riddled in his mind- that's when he had realized that what he was actually looking for is a shoulder to lean on, somebody who could accompany him in this bewildering, taxing journey. The warrior knew that he had had been looking for this person for a long time, hoping someday she would come in his line of sight, but now the thought of whether she ever existed was needling him.

And then the warrior realized he had someone to pick him up from his troubles all along. A companion who has always been there to help him through a hard times, a woman adorned with qualities that he has been looking for all along- but how did he not realize it? Now that woman rides with him through that journey, and the warrior does not fear falling or being defeated. For he knows she will be there to hold him up in good stead. The lack of soldiers had once been his greatest concern, but now he know he wasn't actually looking for soldiers, but instead looking for someone like her- he was looking for the most magical word of all- love.

And they say love can conquer mountains. The warrior still has to climb up the mountains himself, but facing demons doesn't seem like an ardous task anymore- if anything, love conquers fears and uncertainties.

The warrior once reached an edge of the mountain which looked like a dead end, he could not see a way put or a way further up from it. All he saw was a small path that was heading nowhere, he took it, and the only thing that rang in his mind was the same adage that he has so blindly followed for six years- when you want something so badly, the universe will conspire to make you achieve it. Next thing the warrior knew, he was climbing a difficult slope, but at the end of that slope, he realized that he had taken a step closer to the peak of the mountain he wants to conquer. He looked down back, and realized how impossible an task it was, and yet he did not heed to the difficulty at all. The wind of the mountain seem to be telling him that he has embarked on a new phase in his journey.

Few days later, the warrior had made a new group of friends, a pack of travelers as well to different destinations-- they were all at an altitude where they were exhausted and have not feasted for a long time. Word has it that somewhere around the mountain, a feast has been prepared for them. There's plenty of food still left around the place, little scraps of bread here and there, on which they have been feeding on for some time. But they felt it was time for some feast, but to find the feast there is a price to pay. They to abandon their breads behind as the luggage would prove to be too heavy, and with starvation already visiting them, they made the journey. The warrior once again remembered that old adage that the wise old man had told him once- and after a seeming futile journey that reduced all of them into a state of weakness, they were starring at a faint light inside a dark cave. As they sauntered inside, they were shocked to find that they were starring at the feast that they were looking for. They found plenty of offerings on the way, that of breads and mountain guards and old men discouraging them from their ridiculous urge to find the feast. For reasons they themselves could not explain, they were adamant on finding the feast, and at a time when the exhaustion had totally caught up with them, they found the place.

And when the warrior had his feast and walked back outside of the cave to a bright sunshine greeting, he realized the adage wasn't a blind one. When you want something so badly, you do eventually attain it. And he also realized something else- that the journey might be grueling, but it will never be futile- just when you thought your energy has been drained out, the desire will materialize, the dream will come true. The universe will conspire to give it to you when you least expected it- and when you do get it, you will realize that the tools to reach the destination has been lying around you all along- the journey is about attaining that wisdom to be able to look at things differently, and when you reach that stage, you shall be able to look around you and find the hidden treasures that were meant for you.

Today, the warrior has love- which he once though was an endless search. And with the universe seemingly ready to give him everything he pursues without an iota of fear, with only faith and hope in his heart- he looks up at the peak and smiles. He knows he will get there too. But there's no rush. He will enjoy the journey with love, faith and hope. He has abandoned fear at the foot of the mountains.

And he walked on.

Why we need to grow up?

Grow up. Grow up. Stop acting like a kid.

We probably have heard this statement repeated over in almost every household there is in this country- after a certain age, parents, or any elders that be, would nail the point hard through to the teenagers- the time has come for us to start acting adults. We need to talk mature, learn how to live (or survive), be cunning enough in our acts not to be taken advantage upon, learn how to earn money, not to be choosy, not to ask too many questions, and just live with a given situation.

You are walking flanked at either side by few of the most significant peoples of your life, on the midriff on a Sunday afternoon, the sun blazing nakedly over the horizon, unleashing its utmost ray- literally bathing you in sweat. You obviously don't like it, you have walked a far distance, and there's still that substantial amount of journey to go. Suddenly you see an elegant-looking car swoosh past you at the highways, covered in hue dark tinted windows, barely revealing the individuals inside. An element on mystery, an epitome of comfort. You envy at that drive, you wish immediately that you are in that car, and you tell yourself you will be in that car one day.

Few years later, you are in a very similar car, breezing past the terrains- watching from the cold, cozy comfort inside your car- and you witness a flock of people walking and talking with each other. You look at the vast spaces of your car and there you are, driving alone, and for the split moment, you'd think you make do without your shades, comfort, and elegance if you could take that walk again- flanked by people you love talking to, making them laugh and letting them make you laugh. You want, for once, for the journey to last longer so that you feel fulfilled when you reach home. What's the point of running to the destination? That one day in your life in which you will look back and say you wish- it will come.

Only that there is no reprieve when you are driving. You tell to someone the stories of your past, but indulging in past won't yield you a bread for the future, you have been told. On that ashen-faced day when you are actually sweating and walking, you take a cold drink with the people around you and bask at the great relief it provides. You don't feel like you need to be in that car anymore, all there is is a flicker of light in your eyes, gazing the future, imagining the day when you will have that elegant car in your possession, but with these people still around you, to enjoy it alongside you.

When you do drive, you realize you don't have time for that people anymore. They don't have time for you. All of you, as simple as it gets, have grown up. You have attained your pursuit, but why you wanted that pursuit in the first place has been long blown away with the wind- now brushing off the eyes and the minds of another young person, standing aloft with the world at his disposal- or so he thinks.

And then you think- that's life. And you say it with a sigh.

But why do we grow up? Why that maniacal need to grow up? It was once said that kids are God's favorite children. Ever wondered why? Is it just because they are small, innocent, unknowing? The answer is no. A child asks questions aplenty. Why is that tree green?- a child might ask. Why is the sky blue? Why don't rainbows last forever? Can we go nearer to those stars? What's beyond those skies? Why is this man begging to earn money? Can't we help him? How many countries are there in this world? Can we go around the world one day? Can we go to the sea?

What happens to all these questions? Do you get answers for them as you grow up? Obviously you don't. You just cease to ask those questions anymore- because you are told, those questions are not part of life as they say it is. Are they not? Have you figured out what life is all about? For sitting in your balcony one day and gazing into an empty space, sighing, and saying 'that's life' within the frames of your mind doesn't seem an exactly glittering way to look back at the form of life.

How do we smile when we look back? Only if we had had the courage to pursue what our hearts wanted. It's like a loose string when you let your heart rule you in life- instead of the more disciplined, rigid spaces of your brain with spoon-fed ideas, the heart's desires take you places, makes you take risks, makes you fall into deep wells, yet clamber back up to redeem yourself. The heart makes this life an incessant journey as long as there is breath in that body of yours.

And to pursue the heart's desires in the purest of senses, one must first have the ability to look at this world the way the eyes of a kid would look at it. Why shy away from questions? Do we, as the ever self-conscious adults that we are cultivated into, know all the answers that be regarding what life is all about, or even the world? We do not know anything, no matter if we are adults or kids. Why then, shouldn't we ask questions? Only then can we open new avenues for ourselves, can we conquer uncharted territories. Why look at life through the confinements of what the society thinks life is made up of? Look at the world and life, and start asking questions. You will realize there are much more answers to be found out there-- enough answers to last a lifetime. Stop sitting around, and start to make that journey that improve you as a person with every little baby steps you take. You won't end your life knowing everything even when you do that, but when you reach that twilight zone, you will know that you treated life as a journey that its supposed to be, and that you have traveled as far as you could.

The world is always at our disposal- waiting to be discovered, new wonders waiting to be unearthed. Only if you make that journey will you understand what's beyond those stars, and what's beyond those horizons. Some of us think we can't find answers by traveling at the very surface of this earth, but lest do we realize, the answers for everything in life lies right around you.

Can you be a kid again, attain that innocence and purity again, and ask those questions again, with an urge to discover?

Sai Thaman- young and vibrant

Let's admit it. Tamil cinema has had a fervent obsession in finding the next AR Rahman, at least for the last half decade. As if ARR's days in the industry are ever numbered, every flower that sprouted in the music arena in Kollywood has been tagged as the next big thing, and then settled into certain commonplace spheres. The best examples would be the sound rise of Yuvan Shankar Raja before he settled in becoming a composer on his own right, and also of ARR's own nephew GV Prakash, who has shown glimpses of brilliance so far. I am not excluded from the list of criminals who took some albums of young composers wanting to hear a next Rahman, only to half-meet expectations, the other measured by how far that composer has fared from Rahman's standards.

Thankfully, that trend has laid to a rest now (the Oscar and the Grammy probably made many realize gems like Rahman comes once in a lifetime and you don't simply find replacements in the nick of a finger). Before anyone reading this assumes it, I'm not on this to blabber about a next Rahman, but simply a composer who is showing much promise, and in my views, deserves greater opportunities to deliver on the large frame.

Ever remember the sexually mischievous plump boy who probably became the reason why many household parents (including mine) deem that Boys isn't a film appropriate for watching? Yes, that very boy is whom I am talking about- Sai Thaman. A product of the Shankar camp, he quickly faded after Boys, and has come back in a different avatar- that of a music composer.

He debuted last in year in Shankar's own home production- the subtle thriller 'Eeram' which featured much fresh, non-celebrity faces in the lead roles. Thaman's work was received with such accolades that grapevines had it that Kamal Hassan considered him to compose for his 'Yaavarum Kelir' (now re-titled as Karunyam)-- and I was probably the most dissapointed soul around when the Karunyam team, in an act that resembled false promise- went for typical instant churner Devi Sri Prasad instead. Not that DSP is a bad choice, but stars with big attractions ala Kamal are the ones who can really expose a slew of young musical talents in the offing for Kollywood. I'm not talking about Devi Sri Prasad or Srikanth Deva, or anyone in that melee, who attained fame with the fast-paced compositions. What about the composers who come in with striking quality compositions- melodious, heartfelt, yet your heart ache when you know they are not getting the attention they deserve for the supreme quality of their work. Given their age, people like Thaman show great promise, and even if they are not born gems- given the right opportunity, they can be honed into gems.

In a thriller like 'Eeram' where there was very minimal usage of music or songs for that matter, Thaman's 'Mazhaye Mazhaye' stood out as a musical statement for the entire film. The striking matter of this song is not only that its pleasing to the ear- but it really does bring the resemblance of rain/water when you listen to it. You can come almost feel the mist descending upon you, that's the aura and atmosphere that the song created, so fitting with the tone and the theme of the entire film. (He did do exceptional background score for the film as well).

And now you have 'Mudhinam Paartheney'. Of course, you might not even have heard of this film, but kudos to Thaman for staying off the music frame long enough, and comitting to a project like MDP. The film, made by a newcomer director with newcomers on the cover, has been receiving rave reviews since its release, and probably demonstrates Thaman's ability to choose films that can express his musical vistas. Again, the pity of the moment is that you probably have not heard MDP's songs- as they are not even aired on the radio channels frequently enough to attain the kind of exposure that it deserves. Instead, 'dappankuttu' or hardcore songs from low-budget, nonsensical, brainless movies get aired in order to beef popularity for that hopeless reel of 2 hours made without an ounce of creativity.

'Indre Indre' probably is the best melody of the year, second only to ARR's magical 'Hosanna' from VTV. The song is so soothing it left me cursing when I knew the length is just short of four minutes- too short for a song that leaves you asking for more. In fact, every song in MDP leaves a distinct variety about it- even though all of them are love songs, but Thaman brings out a different atmosphere with each of them- and all of them seemingly made to fit the narration- not one of them sound like they need to be taken out to Switzerland and be shot with lavish picturization. It's an art by itself to be able to convey the story and the theme of the film through its songs yet ensuring the songs remain catchy and pleasing to the ears. Every song in MDP conveys the urban romantic drama laced with realism that it is- and I could feel this even without watching a single motion of the film's promos to date.

'Manadhin Adiyil' is a combination of an urban journeyman song laced with classical fusion, another mark of Thaman's clear eye for creativity. The theme song reveals to us that Thaman sounds just like ARR. Does that tell us something? No, it doesn't. For once, let ARR be ARR, and Sai Thaman be Sai Thaman.

But it's time Kollywood grabs a blossoming young composer, and adorns him with opportunities of the highest to showcase his talents- not by composing mass-masala numbers for money-spinning heroes- but composing for fresh, off-the-trend films which still features big stars and big banners. Doing the former would only rust the apparent creativity Thaman has in himself. He'd do good to stamp his own forte before moving to mass-masala films where he would be allowed to experiment as he wishes to and bring different sounds without having to be rigid.

For once, I'm not hyping Sai Thaman's ability up. He has a long way to go. But he has made a textbook start to his career, and he needs to get noticed now. Let's hope that happens. Kollywood isn't hyping him up, which relieves great burden off his shoulders for once.

For a prospective career ahead.

Deciphering The Thousandth Man

It is no secret that the current talk that is presiding over the tinsel town is definitely Selva Raghavan’s Aayirathil Oruvan. While many have given their take on the movie, and much has been said, written, praised and criticized about it, I feel the necessity to conjuncture my own views and understanding that I have derived in the film. This purpose of this article is mainly to aid viewers who might have missed out or may have had trouble comprehending some parts of the film; and to help them appreciate what I personally think is a landmark achievement in Tamil cinema.

My friends have mainly directed plenty of questions as to what they believe to be loose ends that exist in the film, and though all my answers may not be accurate, I do have a faint idea about all the ropes that ties the movie together, so here are my two cents.

1. The Cholans are NOT zombies.

This is like a popular myth that has been spreading among many who watched the movie in their first viewing, assuming that the Cholans in the film are zombies who had somehow defied logic and stayed alive for 800 years. The Cholans have extracted themselves to the isolated island back in 1279 pending invasion to their hometown of Tanjoor. But they are not the same generation. In a normal human cycle, they have gone through the regular cycle of life and death for many generations, hiding themselves in the caves. The only person who has remained alive all these years is the saint, who is the protector of the entire dynasty, protector of the King and the prince, who, in turn, are protectors of the people. Thus, they are not zombies.

2. Why then, are they so dark?

The reason is simple. The Cholans have lived their entire life in the caves, without any exposure to sunlight or rain. Plus, all of them are shown to be thin and barbaric because they are suffering from malnutrition. One scene where the woman touches Andrea’s breasts while she tried to converse to Parthiban shows the result of malnutrition- The Cholan women could not produce milk and only blood will flow from their breasts.

3. Why did they abandon the Cholan city which is so nearby and live in caves? Why they refuse to return to the city at least, when it is so near, and still protected by their curses?

As one can see, the archeologists pass by two monumental ruins before the caves. First is a grey stone ruin where they are attacked by snakes, and the second a more recent ruins of a city where they are struck by the madness curse. As history in the film reads, The Pandyas never gave up in their efforts to trace down the Cholas. Thus, the first ruin that they pass through is where the Cholans lived in the island when they arrived there first, but upon discovery by Pandyas, they retreat further to that deserted city, and place extra curses in the path. If one could remember the seven obstacles mentioned in the story, the quicksand by theory is the seventh and final obstacle. Thus the madness curse is possibly an eighth. Thus the seven obstacles are what the knowledge of previous pursuers have told; with no-one discovering that they have abandoned the small city, placed another curse upon it and retreated into the caves; which must have happened much more recently, possibly only one or two generations ago.

And they are not seeking to return to the ruins of the old city within the island itself, they are waiting for a messenger to come and guide them back to their original hometown of Tanjoor, which is where they extracted themselves from in the first place.

4. How did Reema Sen make the tiger symbol appear and disappear?

As Reema narrates her flashback and intentions, one could easily notice the part where she mentions she is thought how to use her body well. This is not only about the art of seduction, but also the art of black magic. The Pandyas are aware of the Cholan prophecy, and believe that the Cholan people will only come out from hiding if their prophecy is proved true. Thus, Reema uses this knowledge to deceive the Cholans.

5. What is with Karthik miraculously killing the attacker at the battle coliseum?

As one could observe in the film, Karthik simply refuses to die on many occasions. When a Red Indian comes close to killing him, his uncle sacrifices his life for him. When Reema shoots him after their confrontation in the forest, the loaded gun doesn’t release a bullet. When Reema does shoot him with a bullet during the madness curse, he still doesn’t die despite the bleeding. In the coliseum scene, the saint, who is now bedridden, telepathically transfers his powers to Karthik, having identified him as the genuine messenger. The powers enables Karthik to judge the movement of the chain ball, and also see all the audiences as mere skeletons (an allegory that people who take pleasure in watching a game of blood are mere skeletons), and thus enables him to easily evade distraction and concentrate on judging his opponent’s movements. It is Karthik’s destiny to be the messenger and he simply refuses to die.

6. Why Reema Sen refuses to let Karthik leave?

Well, this is the fishy part. Is Reema aware that he is the original messenger? Is she trying to get rid of him in some way? This parts are unexplained much but they remain fishy. A second viewing might enlighten some on this.

On an overall note, it is important to add that it is hard to find a Tamil movie in the vicinity that makes us think so much and ask for a second viewing. That being said however, some of our audiences might term the film as being obscure or badly made rather than appraising its effort and intelligence. AO is an important step forward for Tamil cinema; however, this effort will only reach global shores if we, the audiences and consumers of this industry, give it its due credit.

A Kamal Life

A few days ago, as I was watching Kamal Hassan’s 50 years in cinema commemoration event; Mamootty was giving a simple and straightforward speech about the man himself- stating that if so many people can praise and humble themselves in front of him, the sole reason that he is an actor, an artist of great caliber doesn’t justify all the praise Kamal gets, but instead, Kamal must have been a ‘great human being also’ in order to justify all that people shower on him.

I have read in various spaces how people constantly have waxed lyrical about Kamal’ s achievements and his credo that has taken him to great heights, and how his attempts influences and induces courage in some, and admiration in others. But how many of us had really given any kind of credit to Kamal Hassan for the man that he is, the person that he is?

It takes a very brave man, especially in an easily vindictive society like ours; it does take a very brave man to carve out his life entirely based on his ideologies. And that man was Kamal Hassan. One a many wouldn’t prefer to go to those areas which they consider ‘grey’ about him and discuss about it at any length, but I am more than happy to do so- and praise him with it as well. And the reason I had already stated above- it takes a very bold person to base his life upon his ideologies.

Kamal’s biggest point of controversy, as has been pointed out all these years- is that he was an atheist. First of all, let us acknowledge that fact that none of us, lest you or me, are aware of the entire truth as to what life breaks down to and what it is all about. All of us are travelers searching for that same faraway answer, and those hints we get, we keep them in our knapsack. Some of us have more hints (knowledge) than the others, but none, I can heartily and boldly state, knows the whole truth of it. Some find their calling and their purpose within the realms of religion, and Kamal finds his (as per his own words) in the society itself. There is nothing wrong in embracing those than you can see and attain a spiritual viewpoint based on that point itself. For the record, I’m not an atheist. But I will give all the credit in the world to Kamal for his ideas and his stronghold of them. I always say it takes a very strong person to be completely spiritual in a religious realm and also to be an ideological atheist. The former is because it takes a great man to be humble, non-assertive and completely submit himself to the powers that be above him. My friend once remarked to me that religion is a foundation and which we can fall upon, usually in times when life seems to be out of our control. All of us face hardships in life, but it does take a great man to discard that foundation so early in his life. What would that man fall back on? To entirely keep faith all by himself- that quality is as admirable as any.

His ideologies are universally adaptable- you can tell them to a Christian, a Muslim, A Hindu, and a Buddhist and it would ring true every time- Love is God. I have seen plenty of people who know perfectly well how to love God, but are the worst when it comes to loving those around them. Love each other- that credo is the same in every single religion in this world, and Kamal lives beyond the confinement that keeps us separated from each other with sensitive barriers. If everyone takes that credo and believes Love is God, will there be any terrorists left in the world? Will there be Any soul that would wield a knife and stab someone without being wretched by guilt for what he has done?

Some like to point to his family life as an indication of his imperfection- but which of us are perfect? The path Kamal has threaded was a path that he wants depending only on his passion and his ideologies. It wasn’t a familiar path- in fact I might say, he alone took up that road and travelled in it. He is bound to have made mistakes along the way- and lest I assert that he has paid the price and faced the consequences of his own mistakes. I have visited layman houses in India and find they do not think highly of that man just because he was married twice and at one stage of his life;was having children out of wedlock. But still for the young generation that would like to travel that same path, his journey is marked before us, so that we know what mistakes we could avoid to reach his heights. Normally we point at a loser and say- ‘Look, don’t do what he did, and you’ll be fine’. And yet today, we stare with such glaring amazement at the pinnacle of a mountain- despite stumbling, and being discredited along the way, he still conquered that mountain, and he has left for us the indication on what mistakes we could avoid, so that our journey is a much smoother one.

There is a saying in English- Success is measured by how much others measure their success using you as a yardstick. Kamal Hassan has given a very expensive value to success indeed, and me, and many other who adore him, use him as a yardstick to measure ourselves.

A great person is someone who manages to inspire and teach one of his students; but what do you call Kamal when he inspired me and many other (among my friends), whom he had never seen or heard about in his life? The mark of his legacy lives on us, for we acknowledge that flawed human that he was, and the great pains he took to improve himself and come out of that rut and proceed to his destination. And we know that even if Kamal has already conquered that mountain; he is already setting off to conquer another, and we shall continue behind him. Whichever path we may take when our calling comes, we do not know, but lest assured a piece of him will live on in those paths.

What have I expressed here is my personal testimonial of Kamal Hassan. Some may have assumed that I am a wannabe actor, but lest you are wrong. I am only a wannabe director, and a novelist, but nevertheless in terms dedication to the profession you are involved in, and as the complete artist that he is, he is still my idol. As Vivek so rightly asks in his poem of Kamal- ‘Is there any department that you do not know?’

I apologize beforehand if I had offended anyone with my views, but nevertheless I felt the necessity to express my views. And I take my leave with another one of Kamal’s credo- ‘No pain, no gain’.

That, in as simplest as four words could do, sums up Kamal Hassan- the person, the legend, the actor and everything else.

Dillema of a Kill

There seems to be a new trend that has been haunting Indian cinema nowadays, the dilemma of killing characters. My cousin sister hardly ever watches Tamil films- having it in her genes maybe to criticize everything about Tamil films (even Vaaranam Aayiram failed to impress her), so I was surprised when I found out that she was pretty hooked to Venilla Kabadi Kuzhu when she had watched it last year. However, when she discussed the ending, she threw me a bewildered look, and I couldn’t find any explanation as to why the director deemed the best way to end the story is by killing the main character. Venilla Kabadi Kuzhu is just a mere drop in the sea as far as killing characters in Tamil films goes in recent years. What exactly started off that trend, I am not exactly sure of- it should be either Paruthi Veeran or Subramaniapuram. Blood and gore or nativity has been the only two subjects ruling the roosts for all the successful Tamil films for the past two years or so (I’m excluding typical commercial fares i.e Ayan out of the equation). Probably only Eeram, Vaaranam Aayiram and Unaipol Oruvan could be classified as good hits which didn’t have blood, gore, and nativity as their subjects. And it seems whenever such subjects are being discussed, even at a mile’s radius, a sound conclusion is reached that someone at the fulcrum of the story has to die at the end, or something violent should happen.

These films seem to give a false idea that violence is very much part of the Tamil Nadu lifestyle. I am still fresh off my trip to India, and I have seen plenty other stories that can be told rather than beating around the same bush again and again. It is a cruel world out there, people die. This line describes what ‘good’ movies out there is doing nowadays, and to add to that- they simply coat it as reality. Kill someone, and chop, you have realism. Show blood, you have realism. As much as movies do have to be realistic, one does watch movies to induce hope as well. Paruthi Veeran wasn’t a movie glorifying violence, but rather a movie that depicted so accurately the consequences of violence. But that same motivation doesn’t exist behind all the other movies being relased after that, they are good works, but they seem to thread a very misleading formula. Firstly, you should never have a formula to make a good movie.

The greatest recent example would be Delhi 6, where the whole story judgement seem to balance itself on why the main character wasn’t killed at the end of the movie. Killing Roshan doesn’t make Delhi 6 a masterpiece, neither does keeping him alive makes it a disaster. Killing someone alone doesn’t elevate a work to masterpiece status. The biggest concern for me in this aspect is that once again, Tamil producers are showing an unnering tendency to make a ‘formula’ out of everything. If we already have formulas for commercial Tamil films, now even movies trying to be different have a formula about them as well. So much so that Yogi came across as being such a predictable movie in my eyes, and also demotivated me from watching Renigunta. I do not deny that this reality exists, but you can’t point to one end and claim that it is ‘the reality’. Reality is not something you can ever achieve as a whole in making films- films are afterall, works of fiction. You need reality in films because you would want the audience to relate to your story, but at the same time, he film must be able to send out a message, a useful message to the audience. Watching Paruthi Veeran, according to what I read, made a Madurai goon change his ways after realizing the consequences of his actions. Now that is what movies should achieve. These others movies do not do the same. Fairytales are no crime, a bit of fairytale is needed if you want to seed hope in the eyes of those who are watching.

This trend is not only unhealthy, but it is dangerous to entire psychology of viewers and also makers. If you see a youth slashing someone else and claiming he did it because they do it in the movies as well, then do not be surprised.

There seems to be an universally accepted pessimism when movies like this are being churned out. It all boils down to the same Slumdog Millionaire argument maybe- movies are making a pornography of poverty in India. What we are seeing here is a pornography of violence and knife-wielding goons, cold men with a thirst for blood. Do not mistake me, I did not support India’s attack on Slumdog Millionaire. But Tamil films seem to unable to shake off the rust and move on. The coin on the table is not being turned over, it simply remains there, with only one side of it being exposed. I’m not saying no to movies like Subramaniapuram or Yogi, but it would be nice if these movies come out in occasional intervals in line with movies such Unaipol etc. Why do we have to wait so long to get an Unaipol Oruvan while movies like Yogi are coming thick and fast? Isn’t there a serious lack of balance here?

Everything that I had said here varies from different spaces of arguments, it’s difficult to piece them altogether and single out a main argument. But I guess my question at the end of the day would be simple- why so much pessimism? Why is pessimism becoming realism?

Let’s show us some light at the end of the tunnel. We all know there are plenty of dark tunnels, but there is some light at the end of it as well.

Let’s go for Oli, not Irul.

Pray for me Brother- India's reflection

India. The country. The landscape. When my parents first called me asking whether I had any desire accompanying them in the pilgrimage they are about to make, I hesitated big time. My stomach lurched because I knew deep inside that I’m not going to see the India that I want to see. I’m not going to see Chennai, Bangalore, Hyderabad, Mumbai, or Delhi. Neither was I going to Kodaikkanal, Ooty, Goa, or Kerala. I did not see the India that tourists would like to see. I did not see Sathyam Theaters, or Spencer Plazas, or the hustling streets of Bangalore, the IT Parks, nor the Taj Hotel.

What I saw was quite the opposite- and I knew I this is what I can expect when I somehow, for a reason unknown to myself (because I wasn’t very eager to make the pilgrimage myself), I said ‘yes, I would come’. When I first landed back in Malaysia, I knew my friends are going to hoard me with numerous questions about how the country was. But I do not have words that they would like to hear about the country- I do not have niceties to deliver for them. I only ever have two words- overwhelming, and disturbing. I am 21 years old, and I perhaps have seen everything that the world has had to offer. I have seen the pinnacle of development, living in the centre of KL, and now, I have seen the possibly the ugly face of poverty- one experience that would leave any person shaken to its core, unless, that is, you are ignorant (or brave) enough to turn a blind eye and pretend you are walking on a perfectly fine road.

I travelled through the terrains along the National Highway, crossing state borders, watched elderly women limp in desperation while trying to avoid a high speed van from ramming into them, watched women and children walking in a seemingly endless and fruitless road carrying logs upon their thin, calcium-deprived shoulders in faint hope that the end of the road will provide a ray of light. I watched severely disabled people, and for once, was led to think- what’s the point of going on? What are they hoping for? I was never surrounded with so much pessimism. Carrying their children and begging with a statement that they do not have enough to even feed the child. Beggars are like milestone tombs, you see them at every corner that has even a remote landmark in a certain street. For once I was there, starring at a problem, and unable to think of a solution. How actually do you solve it? I could take a whip at politics at the tip of a finger (which is exactly what my mom did), but I knew that would do gross injustice to those whom our concern is directed at, and to those who our wrath is directed that.

I have long argued that our system is rubbish, the system of living that the society has created and enslaved its own self to, there is something so wrong about it- the system that emphasized on tall buildings, intense developments, public relations (you do not know whats genuine and whos being honest anymore), compromised values (there is no absolute truth or absolute lie anymore), conspiracy theories (there’s always something to fear about, walk out of your house with the fear you will get bombed, killed randomly, something would collapse and kill you, the train you are on will crash and kill you, be cautious, be cautious, don’t take risks, ever, and of course for the past few years, the world has met its doom time and again and somehow continued berthing us on its soil without us even realizing the jerk it made while going through the whole hassle of exploding, or being completely covered by a disaster, and then recovering itself). And if you have seen what I have seen- then you are bound to ask- where are we heading to? At what cost does success knock your door- humanity? When I was sitting at a bus station in some rural bus stop in Andhra Pradesh, I saw a girl (a fairly poor one by the looks, lower middle class I suppose), of around 10 years old sitting and isolating herself behind a couple of elderly citizens in one of the benches, with tears emanating from her eyes; she was trying ever so hard to fight them off. She shot a couple of wandering looks around the station, and then resigned back to being a subdued figure on the bench. I knew that look. It was the look which asks- where the hell is my mother/father? She was holding a small parchment of money in her hands, it became ever so obvious that she was asked to wait there. And she has waited for an awfully long time. At one side, I felt furious at whoever she is waiting for, leaving a girl of that age all alone in a bus station that even scares me by how it looks is not the act of any responsible parent. And as she continued that horrible routine of waiting while her heart just wants to whither and cry aloud, shouting for where her caretakers are; a conflicting cross over between acting like a baby and a grown up girl, munching her fear and consoling herself, I discontinued listening to my iPod; it just didn’t feel right anymore. I was standing a small distance away from her, relinquished my seat, and simply followed her act- my eyes wandered to where her eyes wandered- I looked at an approaching adult and asked- could this be her mom or her dad? And as that process continued, I found myself yearn for her parents probably just as much as she does. I imagined me losing my parents and stranded alone in a faraway bus station where people sleep on floors smelling of expired pee, as if it’s a fluorescent sprayed cushion. I knew that same tears were dwelling in my eyes. A few minutes later (which I was distracted as my mom surveyed for the right bus we have to get on), I looked back and found her talking to a woman nearby. There was relief in her face. And the smile which came out of my face was so blatant that anyone who saw it would have thought that I was a loony. But I couldn’t care less. That humanity in myself is still there, it’s still a child’s humanity, uncorrupted, uncompromised, untainted- it did not grow into an adult and I never want it to be an adult. And I told myself- the next time I come across such a scene in my life, I shall be in a position where I could comfortably denounce my insecurities behind and offer a hand to help, or probably give an ear to listen. This time sadly, I was just as hapless as she was during the wait, so I allowed myself to feel the same agony she is going through. It makes you cherish smiles, pleasures and moment of painless living even more.

What desperation might have driven the parent to abandon her young daughter in a place like this? Again we retort to the basic question- system. All these are the scraps that the unmerciful development is leaving behind- scraps that pursuit for luxury and comfort is leaving behind. It’s just plain war, isn’t it? As the old adage goes, in war there will be casualties. And this war, here are the vast amount of people who are becoming casualties. But my questions is- whose war is this? We can clearly see the casualties, but who is fighting who? Who are the winners and the losers? What will the winners get? What will losers get? It is about time these questions are given serious thoughts. But somehow many of us know its quite too late to change much- as I said, we had become slaves to the routines we alone invented, to the systems we alone invented; we have made negligence and turning a blind eye part of adulthood, we have made lying and cheating a part of maturity, we have made being stone-hearted a quality for success.

Then I remembered one of my favorite songs of all-time, and the message of it made complete sense- Pray for me Brother. AR Rahman’s composition about eradication of poverty probably has the best view on what we could and should do to help the needy- Appreciate the life you’ve got.

He (the poor man) is searching for a reason to stay alive;

Are you searching for a reason to be kind?

That’s the hypocrite in all of us. Many of us do just that, we search for a reason to be kind, while that poor man across the street searches for a reason to just stay alive. You see them closely and you wonder, whats the point of going on- when you are living in the scraps, when you are considered a filth, when people don’t want to look at you because either they consider you to be an irritation or just because you are not an image they don’t want to stick up in their minds? Is there any point at all in going on?

And think, how many of us, despite all the comforts that life provides to us- us with hands to write, legs to walk, eyes to see, money to travel, wisdom to analyze, clean clothes to wear, how many of us think life is cruel when faced with a hardship? We sit and complain as if we are the worst treated beings on earth- ignoring that poor man. And many of us just cease to go on- we do have an alarming suicide rate. If that man who has nothing but possibly a small parchment of hope could muster the courage to stay alive, why can’t we at least do that, and give life the value it deserves?

I’m ashamed ah, be brother dying of poverty,

When he’s down on his knees only then he prays.

How many of us only pray when we are down on our knees? That’s us hypocrites. In joy, there’s hardly any space for a prayer, but when there is a hardship, a desire to be fulfilled, something you need God to open up ways for us, we’d pray profusely. But that poor man across the street, treats even 20 rupees of earning as a blessing. Yes, these people do still have faith in God, and instead of moaning and complaining, they say thank you for the smallest of rewards. How many of us say thank you for being given a bed to sleep, proper food to eat, a proper house to live, a proper car to drive? How many of us say thank you for being bestowed with this life?

Many of us struggle to wear even a smile in our lives. We think the rest of the world is corrupted and we walk around, getting frustrated and irritated at the smallest of imperfections- we frown at other people, we throw insults at people whom we think are intruding a space that we alone deserve. We world is no private space, its everybody’s space. And wear a smile on that face of yours, because these poverty-stricken individuals, with almost no reason do smile- do exactly that. They walk barefooted carrying logs and rubbish for miles, yet they smile, converse happily when they meet another poor person- the kind of conversations we have while we are sitting in classy restaurants with our friends.

I’m not saying we should abandon our comforts to understand their struggle, but appreciate the presence of their struggle and improve the quality of your life. Wear a smile and acknowledge you do have a reason to be grateful, if you are being bestowed with all happiness and don’t find a reason to say a prayer, say a prayer for those who are in need.

Could you ever listen, could you ever care

To speak your mind?

Stop turning a blind eye on everything that matters- thinking that somebody will take care of it. Everybody thinks somebody will do something about it, but in the end nobody did what anybody could do. Be that somebody, don’t be a nobody- by being a nobody, we are only wasting away the life we have, reducing its value, its impact; make life worth living- there’s no bigger crime in my eyes that a failure to appreciate life- that is what possibly every religion has fiercely highlighted.

The joy is around us,

But show me the love that we must find.

The joy is indeed around us. We just fail to find it. Little do we know that every small action we take will gradually have its consequences. You release a negative energy within a crowd of people because it’s a bad day-but actually it’s a bad day because of the negative evergy that you are allowing yourself to give. It takes 54 muscles to frown, and only 14 to smile, why spend so much effort in making this world a worse place to be in? A smile, trust me, can make a whole lot of difference. It gives more hope to those in need.

Don’t let me take, when you don’t wanna give

Don’t be afraid, just let me live

Don’t give if you don’t have the intention of giving. If you want to give, give with your hearts open, let them take ot from you with a cheer. You are not helping a filth on your street, but you are helping a brother, a fellow human being. Always remember that. Many of us are afraid to give. Giving has become a crime. ‘Don’t give, it’s not gonna make any difference’, ‘don’t give they will just cheat’. Who, then, will make a difference? It’s a tiny particle of your attempt to make a difference which will slowly accumulate to make a bigger difference.

Try giving with a smile, and notice that you will sleep with more nourishment than you have ever slept. Walk ignorantly, you are bound to be ignored by another person at some other time. What’s the problem if others don’t give? You make the difference and you be happy about it- because you are different from others. And being different is no crime. What’s the problem if others don’t smile back at you? You smile, you will only leave the other person feeling ashamed for failing to smile back. The guilt exists in all of us, it’s just that have enslaves ourselves to pretending and thinking we are a higher being than those on the street. No, we are not. In fact, they understand life’s value better than we do. I’d rather stay humble and say they are greater beings, because they just live- they are not dominated by worldly pursuits which posseses us to a manic level, they know how to make the smallest amount of money count.

Cos life is a blessing,

It’s not just a show.

Acknowledge that blessing. The word needs it. Every change in this world starts with self-transformation.

And I’ll pray for that brother and that sister.