DILEMMA #2 "THE STORY OF AN UNTOLD STORY"

When earth was a plane and sky was a blue dome...

When men called wood and leaves, their sweet home...

At the foot of the cloud-headed mountains of Gaia

Lived a village more splendid than the Greek Arcadia...

Where brawny men toiled for the scent of sweat

And fair women chortled with no sense of regret...

Where children hurtled like a herd of horses

Who sat still only for the story teller's poses...

A grey bearded man who would wing his cloak

While spinning a tale of time as his master-stroke...

A great fabulist of tales of many arcane sorts

Yet his mind was full of deep troubled thoughts...

Like a long smelt flower's aroma is depleted

His stories had lost their charm when repeated.

Is it not possible to immortalize their glamor?

And quell the detached throng's seething murmur...

An untold story was gently reposed in his mind...

A gem whose shine, he would never let be declined.

"A new mystic tale, tomorrow, i will tell" he bellowed

And eloped, content with the curiosity that followed..

They would yodel for the tale that never would be said

And yearn, guessing the color of the petals of his bud.

Euphoric that his story had gained its due eternal charm

He scaled the wild mountain to live a path of harm...

Several winters had left him with a beard of snow

Shudders and wrinkles were gifted for his humble bow

As a second child, his memories soon began to fade

The untold story was forgotten to become a mere shade…

He revisited the village to be welcomed with regale

And sat among the tiny tots to hear his own old tales

His nostalgic mind cherished every story it could hold

But for one, the one story that was never ever told…

Seeing florets more elated than the heads they donned

He could fathom “For this moment, they were all spawned!”

He winced for the story he concealed, out of sheer disdain

For, through memory and mouth his stories still remain!

A bud has been denied its chance to flower...

The austerity of the truth, oh, made him shiver...

A silver tear did cross the brim of his brain...

In search of the untold, his breath left, in vain...

(NOTE: Not a poem... as i dont know any grammar of poetry. Just a musical way of story telling... Criticism and Suggestions are welcome..)

#1 Motorcycle Diaries - Movies to remember

Motorcycle Diaries

"Let the world change you...And you can change the world..."

Not many movies make you cry... some movies do. Not that you hate it. Infact, for some reason, you want more of it. A little bit of introspection can make you understand that the tears are the colorless blood drops oozing out of your eyes... as something has been ripped out of yourself... only to add something else.

This is one such movie...

"This is not the tale of impressive deeds...Is a piece of two lives taken in a moment when they were cruising together along a given path...With identity of aspirations and conjunction of dreams"

The movie starts and ends quoting the above lines. Simple and trivial...in the beginning. Simple and powerful...in the end. The transformation inside us makes us feel different about them.

A Spanish movie directed by Walter Salles.

Two friends, Ernesto Guevara and Alberto Granado, start their mission of travelling 8000 kms across South America in four months in Alberto's 'La Poderosa' ('The Powerful' Bike). Ernesto, a student of medicine and Alberto, a biochemist start their journey from Buenos Aires and end it in San Pablo, taking a unique path of varied people, mystic places and mixed emotions.

The 'road'... You see the pair spanning the continent in their bike and every atom of your body shouts at you to hit the road. Not one of the many crises they face, dampens our spirit.

"How is it possible that i feel nostalgia for a world i never knew?"

A question asked not only by Ernesto, but by the viewer too, for the movie successfully transfers that nostalgia into our minds. Places and faces...yes. They haunt you hours after the movie is over and whenever you think about the movie.

For those who were moved by the music of 'Amores Perros', '21 grams', 'Brokeback Mountain' and 'Babel', here's Gustavo Santaolalla again. I relate his music in this movie to 'rain'. Snippets of sounds showered like a drizzle, here and there, at the exact emotional moments.... only for a complete pour in the end...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zh2GgCFR2dw

Some scenes...

• Alberto's love for his 'La Poderosa' brings tears to his eyes, when he had to part with it. The scene made the man's innocence and passion transparent.
• Ernesto's denial to spend the money (given by his love to buy her a pair of underwears) during all crises they face, sheds light on the man's capability of faith and resolution in whichever he sets his heart.
• The scene when Alberto breaks down while climbing the mountain saying its 'humanly impossible', just to see a brisk man walking across, is an example of the subtle comedy found all over the movie.
• Asthmatic Ernesto crosses the river which no one has, to get to the other side, to celebrate his birthday with the patients of San Pablo.
• The scene when the pair bids goodbye to San Pablo, I was in tears....

That was a glimpse into this heart wrenching tale. Now forget reading this and go watch the movie...

Experience.... Friendship, Journey, Passion, Love (philanthropy), Empathy, Power of choice and Extraordinary music.

Reflection "The degree of life in a man is not judged by his ability to do activities like breathing, eating, walking etc. It is done on the basis of his level of sensitivity to his surroundings. Have you not felt anything when an old woman in tattered rags, begs you for a penny or two? Have you not felt anything when you see a small boy... running around you... like a chatterbox... begging you to buy whatever he has to sell? Have you not felt anything when you see a limping dog cross the road? The things we see everyday to which we have turned ourselves insensitive. This movie can make you a little more sensitive... make you live more!"

DILEMMA #1 "WAITING FOR A MASTERPIECE"

Someplace of haven, amidst the seven seas
Where waves swept against the coral reefs
Hid a man of doubts, not a man of ease,
Waiting for days like eons for his masterpiece.

He swore on the clouds of the clear skies
And the saffron fire lit by the fire flies
That just like John Milton met his paradise,
He would do so, else hide forever and demise.

With nature, as dumb witness, to see and know
He made his crafts through sun and snow.
He faltered and dented all in a row
And wept as his weakness began to show.

The waves said there aint always a high tide
And yet they never stop to miss a ride.
The clouds said they don’t always make a rain
And yet they rove around without a pain.

The face of nature borne a truth, well written,
That the folly of man was soon well smitten.
He cherished all his dents with inner peace,
Only to transform his every work, a masterpiece…