Wishes

Fear in my heart.
Resolve on my lips.
Its a life I chose.
Its punishment for confusion.
I can see the allure for death.
I can see how peaceful it is.
Depths of despair no longer appeal.
All I want is for me to be at peace.

Sam over Dean

Sam. Dean. Castiel. God. And the saga continues. My affair with 'Supernatural' is an old one. Its a show I feel very much at home with. Its been around for as long as I can remember. It gave me a lot to think about and I was captivated. I could not get enough of the lore, the personal dynamic between the two ill-fated brothers, the angel who could not catch a break for the life of him. I could hardly believe what they had dared to attempt, what with Death being an actual person and all. It was appalling, it was perfect. After Season 6, I gave myself a break from it, mostly because I had chugged all of SPN in less than 3 months. A part of it was also because the relationship between the two siblings had stopped making sense to me. I found Dean infuriatingly bossy and controlling, while Sam was continually grappling in the dark. I began to doubt whether Dean really loved his brother as much as he claimed to or he just looked at Sam as a distasteful task on his to-do list. So I decided to sever my ties with SPN although I always kept tabs on what the broad story-arc was. I followed the show through seasons 7 & 8 with a passing interest, mostly remnants of the fierce fascination I had for the show in the past.
Then, Season 9 happened. I was hearing about it a lot, about the good stories, the fast pace and the interesting dynamic that had developed between the brothers. It got me interested in a removed sort of way, but enough to want to watch it again. And I have not been disappointed. SPN is back with a bang. And I can't believe it. For a show to have such rich stories to tell in its 9th season is almost unheard of. I hope the season ends on a high note as well.
The show is a study to me. All aspects of it. The characters, their relationships with each other, the people who make this show possible. It is a shining example of how a show can work perfectly if everyone plays their part to a tee. They are fully invested in the show without ever making it look desperate or cheesy. Watching SPN conventions is one of my favorite things to do when I have the time. With the laughs and the earnest answers and the crackling chemistry they all have, you never know how your one hour flew by. Jared Padalecki is my favorite. I can hardly think of anyone with such an easy laugh. It hardly seems to matter to him whether he is making fun of people or being made fun of. He laughs anyway. His breakfast sessions are so enjoyable. You could get him started on anything and he responds earnestly. It is easy to see why he is so loved. Although he and Jensen Ackles together are a riot, I love his sessions with Misha Collins as well. Its almost like watching two children in a candy-store. Padalecki is unpretentious and easy in the spotlight. Not to mention, a knockout actor. Lucifer, Soulless Sam, Demon Blood Sam, Hell Sam, Sam fighting Soulless Sam, Ezekiel Sam, Gadreel Sam, he has done it all, and how. Before I saw his interpretations, I could hardly imagine how a guy in plaids could pull it off. It almost feels like this guy has different reservoirs of personalities that he taps into or creates to become all these characters. The changes that he brings across in his body language to accommodate these people while never really losing Sam in the confusion is a masterful task. I especially loved him as Good Angel/ Bad Angel this season. Him switching from being Sam to Ezekiel in a split-second was just riveting to watch. There is nothing this guy in his jeans and beanie cannot do.
My feelings about Sam and Dean are more conflicted. They are a mystery. I don't think I ever will figure them out at least enough to give it a rest myself. At some point while watching them together, I stop listening and begin staring in borderline confusion. What put the show in motion was Dean trading his soul in return for his then dead brother. Its selfless alright, but its more baffling. It almost felt like he would rather have his brother lead a guilt-ridden life than have to deal with his death himself. This is an approach I felt Dean almost always takes with his too obedient brother. Sam respects Dean, Dean respects his protectiveness towards Sam. If he feels he needs to do something to protect his brother, he does it. What Sam feels about it is a non-issue. Sam has never been so cavalier with his brother. He is the brother who listens. Dean takes decisions for Sam, which end up badly for Sam. He is, in a lot of ways, a victim of his brother's choices. It did, after all, start with Dean's decision to bring his brother back from the dead. And Dean is not one to be reasoned with. He does what he feels is right. For him and for others. I always felt Sam did not stand up to his brother as much as he should have. Every time Sam went down the dark path and did himself irreparable damage, it was for his brother. But Dean never hesitated to make his brother feel as pathetic about himself as possible about the choices Sam made by himself. What I like about Season 9 so far is Sam giving Dean a piece of his mind, and quite often at that. At this point, everyone is besotted by Dean, even Crowley. No one really speaks 'Nasty' to him anymore. Except his brother. And I admire him for that. Dean has always had a pseudo-legion of his. Everyone, for some reason, shares a special something with Dean. Charlie, Jo, Bobby, Garth, Kevin, Castiel, and now Crowley. Sam shares a comfort with all of them, without the special click. Dean is the only one who enjoys that privilege, though for a while Amelia did too. Sam is so quiet and understated about it, you would not even notice. I admire that about Sam. Being careful about who you allow to see at your worst is a wise choice. Neither do these 'connections' Dean shares with almost everyone bother him. He respects it, but he does not want it. The scene between Sam and Cas after he gets his soul back is a perfect example of that. And though he probably has only one strong connection left in his life, I never have seen him whine about it. He is strong and focussed, in the face of everything. Although there are many who would claim to 'know' Dean and not be too far off, no one really gets him like Sam does. Sam can see past Dean's heroism and almost reckless courage. He knows how taking care of him gives Dean a direction to move in. And now that Dean had decided his brother does not need anymore baby-sitting, saving the world is next on his tasks-list. Sam has grown into a hero, in spite of his brother. Given a choice, I would love to have him as a brother. As the season progresses, Sam and Dean will move together while also charging on their personal battle-fronts. Where the season finale will bring the two of them is yet to be seen, but I like the direction they have taken yet. Their relationship is toxic, poison for them and a riddle to others. But they are the only two characters on television celebrating the downsides of being 'family'. No one, not even other TV characters could get away with the things they do every five episodes for each other. In the words of Death, they truly are 'an affront to the balance of the universe'. But who knew they would make it such a fun ride meanwhile??

Floodgates

Race on till the end of your time,
Wait till it is too late.
Look out, the hermits are the junkies,
And all the answers make up the dark matter.

I see, I wonder,
I loathe, I doubt.
Whenever there is a silver lining,
There is a brooding cloud.

Seven lives, all begin in confusion.
One journey, marked by peril.
No, I do not believe.
Yes, the world goes on.

A Note to Me

'Where do I stand with myself?' Life is hard until you figure that out. Loving yourself is the GOAL. That means you have made peace with yourself. You have accepted your short-comings and quietly applauded your strengths. That is a life-long cathartic process, the ride of the ages. 

Currently, I cannot claim to have gone through this catharsis. I am still struggling to dig out all the facets to me, let alone accept or reject them. It is not a pleasant space to be in, if you are someone who likes the comforts of familiarity and pattern. I am constantly surprised by myself, never knowing how I will respond to things. My reaction to my reactions is varied. Sometimes I wonder at their authenticity, other times, I make myself quite proud. I like being sorted, even if the sieve I have used to separate my good and spoilt parts are sometimes questioned by others. I find that rather satisfying. I want to wonder at me, be a little careful and apprehensive around me. It is better than being taken for granted, at any rate. 

No one is harder on me than, well, me. I am my harshest friend. I say that because, despite all my short-comings, I'm always around, you know, in case I need someone. That sounded crazy, didn't it? But I believe it. We are all our own best friends. Life got a lot simpler for when when I began to run with that.

But I think I need to stop being so critical of myself. It is almost like I expect me to fail at things, to not make it. I have , in many ways, given up on myself. I need to allow myself to fail, to acknowledge people looking at me with disappointment without having it crush me. Rising above others' opinion of you is hard, but rising above your own guilt and embarrassment is life.

Hopes and Fairy-Tales

It is unfair how much we feel. Our minds are too full, our hearts too sad. We seek solace and happiness with too much desperation. We feel too lucky to be handed scraps of it. We settle for less. We compromise. And we wait. In hope, in pain, in frustration, with reckless anticipation. All this goes on in some form of a cycle until we are no longer there to churn the mills anymore.

I live in my mind. Its the only place I'm honest with myself. People are exhausting. Too hard to figure out. Too random while being the same. I trust sparingly. Anyone could turn around and kill you. No one has their pain and past written across their faces. And no one really tells you what they make of it. Men are hard. Where they draw the line between respecting and objectifying women is a haze. I have a deep mistrust of men. I would rather put up with the petty bickering of women than get to understand men. I am deeply cynical about life. I feel we have to work so hard to get a fraction of what we want that when we achieve a semblance of success, there is only relief and exhaustion to be felt. I feel survival is too much work and not rewarding enough.

And yet I believe in fairy-tale endings. I want a grand event in my life which would take up all my senses and command all my attention. I want to be swept away in a whirlwind chance meeting that has no boundaries. I want to discover myself and all that I am capable of. I want the world, so I know what I would do with it. I want love to be fleeting and hard, impossible and reckless.

So, I live in hope. That one day, I will do justice to my mind that refuses to listen. I hope I find that spark that I am always looking for. I hope life looks at me with some doubt, only to ultimately concede, 'Nah, she needs it.'

Look Where I Find Myself

Running from the shadows,
Climbing over walls,
Looking through myself
To find I have been here all along,
Look where I find myself.

Observing from a distance,
Wondering at the absurdity of logic,
Hoping to live in the fog
While clawing at it,
Look where I find myself.

I stare, I stop.
I cry, I hurt.
I smile, I die.
I fall, I live.
Look where I find myself.

About Where The Road Should Take Them

This is just a quick comment on the latest Girls' episode, specifically the Adam-Hannah arc. They clearly need a break from each other. It is starting to feel a little exasperating between the two of them. They both seem more at ease away from each other. Adam lamenting how he misses his bachelor pad is funny considering how this is where he composed hostile songs for Hannah and spend most of his time pining for her. This arc needs to take a backseat for a while. Others have far more going on. Shoshanna was really coming to her this season. I would have definitely like to see more of that. Jessa is picking up the pieces of her life, and it feels so good to see her try. Ray and Marnie have a weird connection which I hope grows into something substantial next season.

Lena Dunham definitely wanted us to hate Hannah this season. That has been achieved. She has been deconstructed with brutal honesty all the way to this episode and I could not be more embarrassed for this girl. This only semblance of sympathy I feel is for how things are for her with Adam. This oddball of a situation has taken a life of its own. Its hard to comprehend any of it. Hannah has been horrible to everyone this season, except Adam. She has decided that she is better than everyone and she does not hesitate to give them a piece of her mind. Her office-mates were genuinely nice to her and that worked out great for them (eye roll). She has not made any progress in mending her broken relationship with Marnie which stays pretty much where it was at the end of season two. Jessa has not been around a lot, though I doubt Hannah would listen to her either. She has judged everyone and put them in their place in her mind. So, the only one who can turn her around is Adam. He truly is the only one she has any love and respect for. How this will play out in the finale is interesting, though it does not look good for the two of them.

That said, they need to also stop taking up so much air time when there are other interesting and budding relationships simmering about. Adam Driver has rose to an even more prominent role this season. This show started out as the story of Hannah and her friends. That tone has definitely shifted to accommodate Adam's exponential growth in importance for Hannah. They are a pleasure to watch together, few other TV couples could match their chemistry. But, unless Hannah decides to grow up or is somehow forced to, a temporary break-up between them will be a welcome sight. 

About Where the Road Will Take Them

HBO's Girls is an important show. It brings about as intense discourse among its haters as it does among its champions. A friend introduced me to it. It has been a while now so to paraphrase what she said: "Give it a go. Its not for everybody." That would suffice to describe the show any day. I did find the nudity and general brash, honest tone of the show unforgiving for a while. But soon you do not notice it anymore. Hannah and Marnie  dancing to Robyn's 'Dancing on my Own' was one of the happiest moments of my life. In them I found a way to not just acknowledge but celebrate the mess and madness in me. I finished the first season in one sitting and came away wiser, albeit a little color-blind. It was quite an experience. I was embarrassed for them, cringed by them, galled by their twisted marriage of self-deplorability and self-worth. But what stood out the most was the quiet birth, growth and subsequent crash of a love story. The guy who I had barely noticed in the first two episodes, Adam, turned out to be the only character on the show without even a shadow of self-involvement.  His love for Hannah was baffling and entirely believable. The eventual fall-out between the two in the season finale was the best confrontation I have seen on television in years. It was brutal to see two people so perfectly in love a while ago hit a blunt dead-end. Adam was too serious about the relationship for Hannah. She, in turn, was too insecure and insensitive for him.

The reunion in the second season always felt a little forced to me. Adam could have used his time away from Hannah to reflect on what did not work between them instead of sloppily trying to get over her. He is capable of it. Hannah leaning on him again only after learning that he had sort of moved on with his life did not ring of sincerity and true love. Still, the finale scene worked for me because I wanted them to be together. Anything less than that dramatic rescue scene would have worked for me too. Adam Driver and Lena Dunham have too much chemistry between them to let it all go to waste. When they are together on screen, they exist in a common shared space. As Hannah Horvath and Adam Sackler, they bring to life one of the most solid TV couples of recent times. As the audience, we do not ask if they are still in love or what draws them to each other. They are very safely in the mysterious territory of 'Love' and we like it that way. They need not get along all the time and will obviously go through the rough patches every relationship is prone to. But they will always find their way back to each other. That is what looks right and we do not know why.

The third season has so far dealt with their personal aspects and how it informs their relationship. Hannah and Adam are not cut out of the same fabric. That was a part of the spark between them to start with. That, however was also at the core of the ugly, disastrous fight between them which ended with Adam temporarily moving out. It was difficult to watch, with me wanting to root for and chide both characters at different moments. Adam's commitment to the play is a reflection of who he is. I would not expect any less than total immersion on his part. This is the guy who teared up at Jessa's sham wedding.  But his disregard for Hannah was difficult to swallow. Earlier, he had zoomed to another city to check on his less than banged up girlfriend. To not bother enough to even call her when she does not turn up all night is a bit of a stretch after that. Her alarm at his attitude is justified. How she goes about trying to fix it is embarrassingly funny, but cut the girl some slack. Adam had sent her a creepy playlist of songs with a deranged performance to go with it after their ugly break up. He crashed into her house and and informed her calmly of his decision to keep pursuing her no matter what. He is in a better place now but that does not necessarily bode well for their relationship. Adam had stepped back into Hannah's life at her very worst phase. He brought her back and her acceptance of their relationship was, in my opinion, shaped by this. The sincerity Adam has for their relationship had scared her so much that she had neatly washed her hands off of the whole thing the first time round. This turnaround in her attitude towards them has been fueled by how he saw her through a period of illness as well as loneliness.

That is why I feel Adam was too harsh on Hannah. He means more to her now than he did when they had started out. He is a huge part of this new found stability in Hannah which we see in every episode this season. This might be a narcissistic girl, with a less than developed understanding of social courtesy. This might be a girl whose has taken detachment to a whole new level of, well, detachment. But this is definitely not a girl falling to pieces and losing control. We may not like what she is doing and how she is doing it, but Hannah is completely in charge.

Adam has now had the opportunity to watch Hannah function in her natural environment. And he does not like what he sees. Her lack of empathy for David's death and the preoccupation with the fate of her book weigh on him. This could be one of the reasons why he exploded on her the way he did. He is beginning to see a shallow and plastic side to her that runs opposite to what he is and believes in. But he, of all people, should know that there is more to Hannah Horvath than meets the eye, or ever will.

Some time away from each other does seem like a good idea for them. They started with a convenient arrangement that did not present much of an opportunity for them to know each other as individuals. Their follow-up relationship was short-lived, to say the least. The break-up unraveled both of them. And only they could have sewed each other up right, which they did. A committed, live-in relationship is no small step and they jumped headlong into it.

So a little rift between them is welcome. They need it, we could live without it but we get it. But they should eventually find each other again. They are the only couple on television whose love and eventual fate bear no shadow of doubt to me. No matter where the road takes them, Narcissist Hannah and Brooding Adam look right only with each other.

Gazing at the Night Sky

Deep inside the hollow heart,
There lies a little me;
She stares at the darkness around,
For that is all she sees.

I am her and she is lost,
Her eyes are staring wide;
She wonders at the silent black,
And it is always night.

 I think of when the stars will show,
To light up the grimness and her;
I wonder if any ray of hope,
Could be so brave and sure.

Sure of its creation,
Profound in its light;
A stroke of white joy,
That rushes past her side.

I look at her now,
Still lost and gazing up;
Holding her knees so close to her chest,
Overcome with hope, waiting for love.

Ramblings of the Shadow MInd

I am sitting in a fancy restaurant in a posh part of the town. The gentleman across from me has ordered some very exotic sounding food. The ambiance is welcoming while being intimidating at the same time. No, I'm not describing my first date. This is a business meeting. But that does not make all of this any less fairy-tale-like. The gentleman himself is very impressive. Reserved, yet quietly friendly. Never allowing a dull moment to transpire, yet not talkative. I find myself having to do very little to maintain the momentum. So I just sit back and let him lead. While he begins to describe his choice in desserts, I find myself trailing off a bit. " Hmm..this is good. I could probably close this deal right about now. He will not be hard to work with. It could work out quite well. If I pushed him just a little, his face would land in that lady's soup."

BACK UP. WHAT?? Did I just think THAT?? SERIOUSLY??What the What?? I pull myself back to the present and try to pretend I am listening to his recipe of chocolate souffle like my life depends on it. Its quite easy. Poor guy does not have a clue. I close the deal, shake his hand. Till later.

And so this is. Thoughts that pop up from somewhere so close to nowhere, it is impossible to tame them. And it could happen anywhere, triggered by absolutely anything. A strange word in someone's incredibly sad story and my head is a dancing arena of jokes, most of them quite ugly. All you can hope for is to have a face that cooperates with you. Sometimes, that is too much to ask as well. And remember, if you thought surely everyone else sees the joke in this, they do not. You are a victim of your own sense of humor.

I believed I would just have to continue with this affliction. I mean, what good could a shrink do?? And how sympathetic would he be if you laughed at his at something he said quite unwittingly. So instead, I began to devise ways of dealing with it. By which I mean ways in which I could disguise it best. Coughing, snorting, holding a handkerchief to your mouth once you have been at it for long enough. It could be managed. And so it has been.

A few days ago, I stumbled upon some interesting trivia on twitter. Apparently, this unique situation I just described to you is not all that unique after all. Popularly known as 'Intrusive Thoughts', this condition is too much of a non-issue to even be a condition. Studies have been conducted and it has been around for quite some time. I would rue this as a loss of exclusivity. Except, I'm too glad. Turns out everyone has a weird somewhere close to nowhere in them. Life will do that to you I guess. But its all good. Safety in numbers, right?

How I Fit Into the Real World

I have always lived my life vicariously. One foot firmly planted in the real world, the other in the world of my making. Sometimes, the lines between the two have blurred. Other times, I have been painfully aware of their distinction. I often ask myself, "Why am I doing this to myself? Why not give one up? Be mad or utterly dogmatic. At least, I'll know where I stand. Clarity for the sake of peace and calm." And yet, here I am. Still juggling the two sides, humoring both parties. Living the Double Life.
I am ordinary. Unremarkable in every way that matters. I see myself in every distant face. Up close, of course it is always a different story. This somehow makes me uniquely qualified to draw some broadstroke conclusions. Maybe we all are doing the same thing? Living a very present life in a one bedroom apartment only because looking at a high resolution picture of Paris is easing the pain? Watching with a numbing pain as taxes bleed us dry while smiling at the adorable Jennifer Lawrence's red carpet gaffes.
Life is unrelenting. Merciless in its attention-seeking antics and condescending in the face of our stumbles. And it knows how to keep us on our toes. Whether the dreamer or the pragmatist, no one is spared. So I say, go ahead. Dream the impossible and smile at your confusion. Live it. Love it. Own it.

Twitter-the overkill of genius

I have been on twitter for a while now. Longer than I have been on Facebook anyway. At first, it was simply about getting to stalk my favorite celebrities in a legit way. John Mayer, to be precise. Imagine my chagrin when he just upped and quit! No reason, no warning whatsoever!

Funnily enough, I stayed on. I'm not sure why. Still. By then, I was probably beginning to see the allure this social site had for so many millions. Anything and anyone that mattered had a twitter account. The White House included. And Bill Gates. And Oprah Winfrey. And Ellen Degeneres. It became for me a preferred kind of news feed. Nothing of importance escaped the clutches of twitter trends. World news, celebrity gossip, scandals. Its was all there. I noticed how the paparazzi use twitter to spread  their claims and celebrities use it to refute the same. There are Yoda bots, an Ayn Rand bot and whatnot bot. If you wanted to be on top of things, twitter seemed an easy answer.

But somewhere in all of this noise of 'world', 'celebrity' and 'global', the mavericks began to appear on my timeline. Not often, just popping up every now and then. Following the thread of one such hippie led to so many others that soon I seemed to have no time for the world-leaders and the smart bots. It felt a lot like discovering independent cinema after years of mainstream hollywood. Turmoil, confusion, pain, rage, mistrust, broken trust. Or sometimes just a nagging headache. There seemed to be nothing that could not be articulated perfectly in 140 words.

Today, I've struck a balance. Hollywood does after all have way of gaining your attention again. And I have realised that too much on any side of the bridge is death. Twitter is a platform for getting the world to take notice of you all at once. It is the best tool at your disposal to create an impact. It is also the hugest cesspool of talent and originality. There is some respite to be had from anonymity after all. We can be as mad as we really are and more. So c'mon, let's pit my crazy against your crazy and see who comes up with the best tweet.

'Dysfunctional' is the new sexy

Not too long ago, the series 3 finale of Sherlock created mayhem and endless debates in the social media circles. It’s ripples continue to make worldwide impact, what with continued exposure for the audience. Be it conventions, interviews, in-depth behind the scenes looks or just mindless bits and pieces thrown around to make sure it stays fresh in our minds, no effort was spared.

So what is it about this BBC series that has long crossed the realm of objective affection and is today one of those cult shows with its very own brand of passionate ‘Beliebers’?? Why has this iconic character whose brilliance and other worldliness has long been established and celebrated suddenly grown out of his pedant suit and become a fantasy superhero, at least for his formidable female fans?

Elsewhere, Rustin Cohle exited our television sets, probably for good, with a punched-packed hour of thrill and catharsis. Although a longer stay would have been more than welcome, he has still quite seamlessly generated his own army of admirers. Gregory House would be another case in point, whose brilliance came with its unique kind of acid. The kind we sort of looked forward to. The hit NBC series Hannibal, truly a masterful painting in the world of television has a dysfunctional story to tell as well. One too many, in fact.

This leads me to an obvious question. Is it them or is it me? Are these men so compelling that their obvious issues hold no water or do I have an affinity for the ‘crazy’? And judging by the numbers these shows manage, there are a lot of us in the same position. Why does ‘Dysfunctional’ make for such riveting television? Trust issues, rage issues, parental issues, sibling rivalry, unhealthy interdependence, PTSD, etc. The more the merrier. Would we exult and rejoice if such a bundle of  multiple joys were to be delivered to our doorstep? The answer, I’m afraid, is probably yes. And therein lies the crux.

Yes, of course we would consider ourselves the luckiest if Sherlock or Will Graham or even Hannibal himself were to appear before us seeking help. Yes, of course we would shout it from the rooftops and revel in the envious rage it would send others into. Yes, of course we would ask them to be with us forever. We would, we would. As long as the infatuation would last. Because that it what a large part of this is. Schoolgirl admiration and infatuation. We have taken far too many steps in loving these men without taking enough in understanding them. These are flawed men, deeply scarred and somewhere a victim of their own extraordinary light. To make an effort to understand that would be the beginning of a respectful and lasting relationship between us and them.

So here is what I suggest. Every time you find yourself looking so deeply into Benedict Cumberbatch’s eyes that his showstopping deduction escapes you, stop. Admire him for his eyes, but admire him more for that flawless monologue.