Confessions of a shopaholic

*why i watched the movie*:

A girl sometimes feels the need to watch what we generally term as "chick flicks". Why? Probably because it's an unexplainable girl thing. Some girls prefer to only watch chick flicks all the time, whereas some like watching a wide range of cinema and sometimes lean toward the "wanting to watch a chick flick" feeling at some point of time. I think, rather, i do believe that i fall in the latter category!

So, some day on some busy week, when my friend and I felt like going through a chick flick, we decided to check out the newest one of the time "Confessions of a shopaholic".

*what i felt about the movie*:

I went into the movie hall hoping to be shown a movie that is a complete pink frilled comedy cum uplifting chick movie. Was it? To some little extent, perhaps.

As the name suggests (this movie was based on a book by the same name by the way!), anyway, as the name suggests, the movie is about a young female journalist (it's a wonder that most of us would assume that the lead "shopaholic" is a woman, it "could" have been a man, i'm sure there do exist some men shoppers who could go overboard!) who shops not just for pleasure but for needless need.

The only good show point of the movie i think was the lead actress "Isla Fisher". She was cute and played the role of a "young working girl" cum "fashionista in debt" well.

However, the story as such was'nt exactly a rewarding experience. Most chick flicks are just fun and random themes, however Confessions was more of a let down as a chick flick. It had it's funny moments here and there but on the whole, it was, just was.

The story goes: young female journalist shops alot, loves stores, can't not buy nice, new, good, expensive clothes and accessories, splurges almost all the time, sometimes even *lusts* for new clothes, gets into debt, looses job, by chance gets offered another job in a magazine called "Successful Saving" which is part of a publication group that also owns a high profile fashion magazine, so young female shopaholic accepts job at Succesful Savings so that she can maybe anyway move to the fashion magazine as a writer; while in Succesful Savings, falls for boss whilst trying to evade the Debt collector who keeps cropping up every now and again. I'm sure by now you'd have guessed the ending. A big misunderstanding, pleadings for forgiveness and anyway landing up with the boss was how it ended.

The story is predictable and pink. I'm not entirely saying that it was a waste of a movie. It was OK for the moment's fun.

It's surely not a "must-watch" though.

Fashion followers could probably love the movie for the clothes, although i don't think all the clothes showcased were coolly amazing either.

But the movie did get me thinking. It got me thinking to what extent i myself may be a shopper who craves for fine taste myself, to be honest, i don't shop alot, but when i do walk by a store, i can't help looking at the window displays wondering if i should buy / not buy. Most women are like that i reckon! The one part of the movie that any girl would probably relate well too is the part where Isla Fisher craves to shop and can't stop. It's hard to curb what you like doing best after all, ain't it? But, we all ain't shopaholics...that's why they made a story on her and not us!

The general feeling after the movie ended wasn't the usual "how cute" after a chick flick is over, it was more of the, "oh ok, well, yeah ok".

The audience here probably wouldn't take to the story 100% for other reasons. India is a country of savings. For sure, we do buy alot, individually and as families. However, a young working "fashionista for fun" based out of New York would probably know to a larger level and feel more from this movie what it tries to tell.

Entertainment wise, the moment of watching was reasonably OK. I wouldn't think of this movie a second time and let's just end this by saying that if i saw it playing on home TV again, i'd give it a pass unless i was very deep in one of them "chick flick" moods. Very deep. Otherwise, pass...

I think i'll stay off the chick flick mode for a while. A while that's longer than short...

Slumdog Millionaire

Based on the book "Q&A" by Vikas Swarup, this movie Slumdog Millionaire is one of those lucky few flicks that received accolades and nominations and oscars this year. I read the book a few yars ago (it was a book given to me by an associate). The release of the movie and the handsome number of criticisms from indian people the worldover and the press didn't really make me feel like watching the movie, until yesterday.

Mind you well, i didn't watch it because everyone else seems to have had. I watched it purely to gauge and see what the fuss was about. In these recently past months, every columnist and writer has written about Slumdog Millionaire. Every movie goer has either despised or credited Slumdog Millionaire. Some very famed Indian personalities have gone public with their comments on Slumdog Millionaire. A very famous indian actor, post the immediate release of this movie, criticised the movie openly on his blog. A.R. Rahman, one of India's greatest modern day music composers won the oscar for Slumdog Millionaire.

So, i watched it finally. One final and sudden tuesday evening. In the comforts of my living room, i put the cd on. What is expressed here on is just a view. A feel. Not intended to influence or inspire any else's thoughts or actions on this movie or anything else in general.

Even after reading a mix of negative and some positive views in these past few months on Slumdog Millionaire, the only first emotion or feeling that came through me while watching the movie was, "how true".
Not "how true" to what critics had said earlier about the film. "How true" when the movie honestly portrayed what slums in Mumbai are in reality all about.
Anybody who has even briefly voulnteered in an NGO dealing with underpriviledged children will know that this movie's storyline is the truth. There is actually an unspoken of industry, something we call "begging" that flourishes fully in our midst and it is true that some (not all, some) unsuspecting children are ill-treated and sometimes even mutilated by their "managers" to help make a quicker and bigger buck.
It's what goes on parallely in a city like Mumbai whilst big fashion brands and luxury brands strut their stuff about trying to impress the few high-end socialites of the city / country alike.
But, isn't this a truth & reality for any big city in the world? Why would we cry out loud publicly and try to defend ourselves when the world watches a movie like Slumdog Millionaire? So many of us went on to say, "this isn't right, this isn't India, this isn't fair, the movie only got famous because of the white director". Impossible nonsense.

Agreed. The storyline is nothing exceptinally great. My first feeling was: this didn't deserve so many Oscar nominations, but i also don't believe that the reason it did get so many nominations was because of the white director. Maybe good marketing (pls note that Slumdog Millionaire was released around the time or a bit after the 26/11 happenings in Mumbai). Mumbai was already in the limelight and then a movie that's based in the same city.... well, i'll leave you to do the math.

It's just a story. Based about a boy. Who came from the slums. It had nothing to do with India really. Every country in the world has it's ghettos, slums. A hundred plus movies are based on the "rags to riches" storyline, about someone who came from the shacks and went on to be a big someone. Never did the country that the movie was based in wake up and defend what they knew happened in the city. In any city. Because, it's just a movie. It can be used as a wake up call. But no, we'd rather walk about and cry out loud, saying, Slumdog Millionaire is nothing of the true India.
Maybe it isn't "the only true view of India", but fact is, these things happen. What's important is, the movie was never made to portray "INDIA". It was made, to entertain. No part of the story in reality is really that unimaginable.
What goes on in the slums of mumbai, we can hear / read about. We can support it / help ease the situation / or just be ignorant about it.
What we see in movies, we can choose to like / dislike. It's just an opinion afterall.
When a movie based on Mumbai is going places, we can choose to support the caste (who were mostly indian) / or turn around and pass judgements and say," we only won because the director was white).
We can maybe open our eyes and accept what really does happen at the end. Smile. And remember that it was just a movie. And tomorrow, there would probably be more. Not of the same kind, but movies nevertheless and it's not about who made the movie as much as how well the majority of people took to it.
Jai ho.

We're all one

We are all one,
And we were all wild,
Wild beasts among trees,
Lying in jungles, swinging free.

We are all one,
You and me.
You can’t be better than I, neither worse than me.
Cause the fact is, your made of the same thing in me.

Do you see?
We are all just the same,
Animals, humans, here say, what a shame,
Some of them lead in a pack,
But it’s only us who tend to move out of these racks.

We fight amongst our own very selves,
We exploit among our own very selves,
And turn around and scream aloud, and shoot
When we see a dog chasing its prey.
We kill our own, We live divided,
It’s only us humans who don’t really stand united,
It’s only our ring of species that’d live and see,
The disadvantages of racism and fights on religion;
While we grind ourselves to believe.

Unless provoked,
An animal won’t kill it’s own kind,
Unless provoked,
We probably also wouldn’t really fight.
But yet as humans we think and feel,
That we are the better,
In the entire line of living beings.

We are all one,
All the same, naturally,
You’re made of the same thing, the same thing in me.
Not only are you and me one,
So is the world and all it’s beings,
We are no better, no worse,
But maybe we are getting ourselves to be.

If you read this and smile,
Or read this and cry,
It’s just cause your human, A human like me.
Come tomorrow and another new day,
You’d forget this rhyme,
There’d be the same living and life.
And there’d probably be more of those fights.

We are all the same.
We are one, you and me.

At the coffee shop

At the coffee shop,
I Saw,
A couple sipping coffee,
Sipping sour,
I watched what seemed to be true love,
But actually it was tainted love.
They looked so cute and seemed so sweet,
But in reality this is what surpassed in between,

As the girl said to the boy she loved,

“Even if I love you true,
And I know you can’t love me to,
I would always love you,
Its cause I’m just a silly fool.

Even if I love you true,
And you can’t love me back too,
I would always cherish you,
And the dreams that our love could have turned into,
A romance budding like a flower
Fresh with hues, that sparkle, like something new.

Even if I love you true.
And I know that that’s me being a fool.
I’d still just always live loving you, I will,
Like I do,
Cause the thing is,
My love is true.

Truer than the day that starts,
Truer than my heart’s hazard,
Truer than the love of love’s,
Nothing like you ever knew.

And so,
Even if I love you true,
And I know you can’t love me too,
I would always love you,
Cause the thing is, my love is true. “

At the coffee shop I watched,
As the filmy story poured,
In front of me, sat a girl beyond her teens,
Wishing he wouldn’t leave her be.

Said he to her,
"I’m sorry girl,
I love you too,
But we can’t make it, dear.
I’m sorry but there is no way,
If there was, I would have found it, yesterday…."

"Don’t leave just yet",
Said she to he,
"This is us,
There’s no in-between.
I don’t care, there has to be a way,
We had our plans, let’s live it, breathe it, I say".

"What’s the point sweetheart,
I move tomorrow,
I won’t be back,
Simple sorrow.
I’m not leaving cause I want to leave,
I’m leaving cause I have to leave."

"The hospice is just a drive away,
But there’s no point in us staying,
I can’t watch you watch me waste,
So, please let’s end us,
This is it. I say".

At the coffee shop I watched,
As she held his hand one last time,
She didn’t cry nor shed a tear,
She just looked at him,
Loving pure.

I went to work the very next day,
To the hospice where I spend my ways,
I saw the boy from the coffee shop,
Sipping coffee,Slowly,

But never asking for more.

~~Paromah

A conversation

I look in the mirror, Oh, hello, i see a vision of me,I speak to it, i ask,Hello, do you hear me?

Yes, replies she, I always do, you see,That's nothing short of a crown. I am you and you are me.
How’s it going back there? Asked the vision in the mirror,

The typical, nothing spiritual, i answer, feeling weird. Yet feeling like me.
"Sounds ok to me", she says, set yourself free… The world is yours, take what it is. Take it as it gives… Take it, BUT LIVE.

Ok i say, but do you really believe, All that's wrong, will eventually be right again,Cause, I can't seem to really believe.
"I don’t know honey", she says,I don’t know little baby.
Guess that sounds ok to me.

Hello vision, i ask on another day,do you hear me? "Yes dear, but I can just barely",she says to me, Have you set yourself free?
Not really, in the sense, i'm trying to just "be", but, it's hard, guess i'll be alright, all eventually..."Sounds ok to me", she says, take it easy, and watch yourself lovely.
Sounds ok to me.

Hello there, can you hear me, No, my darling, I set myself free, It’s probably something to do with spirituality, I feel so wonderfully free. But, where are you, & why cant I see? Cause your yet to live completely, darling, and i have to go far away like the yonder sea… But, your suppose to be with me, You said i was you and that you were me!Where are you really? I cannot see. I need to see, cause i need you to tell me, everything i have to hear, Where are you and why can't i see?

No dear, child, I’m free. I’m what is part of the worlds duality. I see you though, young and sure, I’m watching you child, Be yourself, be free.
No, I don’t get what you mean, You can't just disappear, Come back, come back please. Where are you and why can’t I see? What do you mean by you’ve been set free?

Darling, little baby, Look, just see. In your heart, You’ll find a memory. Of yourself and of harmony, I want you to know, that was a different kind of reality.

What do you mean? Where are you now? Tell me please.
I’m sorry child, I can't, see, Iv'e set me free, I am something of a mystery…. A conscience in reality. I have to go you see, You can't keep counting on me. I'm just a small part of what you're suppose to be, Your journey right now, should be without me. You will be fine, Trust on me. Cause with happiness comes some misery. it's just the way things get to flow free. It takes one to set the other free. I’ll watch over you, i'll always see, That all of your life will be, The best of world’s to be. But i have to leave now, Leaving so you can breathe. Count on yourself and what's inside, Cause, i'm what's inside of you, you see? Think of me when you want to be free… Guess that sounds Ok to me.

I’m so struck on by this feeling of a dream. I wake up, alas, she was with me, but only in a dream, A conversation that made me feel, Made me listen, made me plead.

A light of white, something like harmony. Living and letting go of memories…. In this world, there's duality and reality,This is what you have left to see. I walk toward a path to be free. I look into the mirror,There's only me.

-Paromah6/March/09

Corner of the Street

Corner of the street.
--P.S

She sings standing on the,
Corner of the street.
She sings between the traffic lights,
As the lights turn green, she is seen,
Standing on the corner of the street,
Singing songs, with a heart so deep.
Touching it is, to see the scene.
She sings standing on the street,
On the corner of the street,
Traffic lights change on time,
She doesn’t seem to really heed.
Singing as she stands on the street,
Watch her as she softly breathes,
Musical notes like harmony,
Playing the sound, simple and sweet,
Something like the Perfect Scene.
The girl, the one who sings so deep,
At the corner of a street,
She sings to you, she sings to me,
So we can hear her, even though she cant really see.
She sings for money, she needs to eat.
She needs some food,
She sings for these.
She sings for love, and broken dreams,
She sings at the corner of a street.
As she sings for you and me,
She dreams of homes and warmth and a mother’s need.
She sings but not for charity,
Yet noone seems to really see.
She sings so sweetly,
Quietly,
At the end of the street,
She hopes that people hear her as she breathes,
Musical notes of harmony.
The cars will pass,
One at a time,
At the halt of traffic lights,
Her voice is heard, oblivious to the world’s uncaring spree.
But no one will stop and see,listen or give the girl some heed.
The blind girl that sings, on the street,
Night and day,
She sings to please.
She needs some food,
But no one will see,
Cause the world is blinder than that girl can ever be.
After the storm, comes the last rain,
After the hail, the cold fades away,
After the sunset, there’s a new day,
But still the people that’s us,
Never will change.

As the girl sings at the corner of the street,
I bring her some pie,
Full of apple and I feel her glee…

But my tears pour down,
And I watch as she eats,
The wonder lust eyes, filling in the feed.
Something so simple, can make her smile in glee.
Something so simple, can make her happy with ease.

And like after the storm, falls the last few drops of rain,
The cycle goes on. And on and on.

Singing at the corner of the street.
For you, for me, for anybody who would heed.