Thursday, 31 May 2012

Commercialization Of Art

Since time immemorial art has been the savior of humankind from all the curses of lives. It completed the vacant spots of an individual with rich and soulful beauty. To be precise, art is the expression of human skills and imagination which can create an object which is aesthetic in nature and pleases the sentiments of common people as well as satisfy the thirst of intellects. It is indeed a disgraceful opinion to relate art with money. But, as the bitter nature of truth stands today, art is getting commercialized and is leading to the death of authentic talent.

There were times when artists like Leonardo Da Vinci and Michelangelo walked our planet. They were not seeking capital from their respective works, but the sense of self satisfaction and self-fulfillment. The most talked about work of art, Mona Lisa was completed by Leonardo Da Vinci in a span varying from 4 to 7 years. Is it possible that such a glorious depiction of artistry would have been actualized from the hands of a person seeking glory and money? In my opinion, possession of real talent blinds the greed and the notion of commercialization in one’s eyes.

It is due to the marketing and money minded thinking, that there is a dearth of raw and pure talents amongst us. The excess of commercialization has resulted into the demise of imagination and ingenuity among the young minds. The core concept of greed has blackened out the inventiveness and freshness of art. It never was a business and should never be treated as a pursuit of extracting revenues.

The enormous power that art possess has gone beyond one’s conception. Commercialization will only corrode its roots and will destroy the flair of a burning mind.  As Oscar Wilde has quoted, “Art is the most intense mode of individualism that the world has known”, we all should remind ourselves the admiration we gather for real talents and thus should not let this individualism burn into commercialization.

Wednesday, 30 May 2012

From Dreams To Reality

(an account of life in poor households of India where dreams succumb to the harsh and brutal realities of everyday life.The life is first seen from the eyes of a child and then when the same child turns into an adult.) 

I wake up every morning to the face of innocence,
Not much i understand,
Not much i comprehend,
But i realize love when my parents look down upon me with a sense of tenderness...
On some mornings i find them loving each other,
On some mornings i find them ignoring each other,
And on some, fighting....
Fighting to save food for me,
Remaining hungry themselves, they feed their little child affectionately....
Fighting to search a rag for me,
Remaining half cladded themselves, they cloth their little child affectionately...
Fighting to save every little penny,
Hoping day and night that their child's string will not be attached to the same destiny.....!!!!!
And I dream...
I dream of being an aviator...or an actor...
Or a millionaire enjoying a cup of tea with U.S. Senator.....
And I dream...I dream...I dream...!!!!!

Thirty years had gone by as I find myself lying in bed in a state of utter desperation,
And Now I wake up in the morning with the face of devastation.....
Everything understood.
Everything comprehended.
Cursing the lines on my hand,
What remains of me is a broken soul waiting for the End....
Consumed by hate,
What remains of me is a mourner who ran away endlessly from his doomed fate....
Gone are those days when i used to dream,
What remains of me is a man with withered sheen....
Everytime I fought, I fell,
I am not anymore afraid of death, as I've seen far worse than Hell...
Staring at my ceiling's fan,
With a rope in my right hand,
I climbed up the broken chair, as my feet remembered, the last touch of this burning land...!!!!!!

Saturday, 26 May 2012

Movie Review : Men in Black III

Director: Barry Sonnenfeld

Cast: Will Smith, Tommy Lee Jones, Josh Brolin, Jemaine Clement, Emma Thompson

Genre: Action & Adventure, Comedy, Science Fiction & Fantasy

It has been a decade since the guys in black dazzled the cinema goers with slick action, dizzying aliens and tongue in cheek comedy. It was indeed fascinating to see whether the director, Barry Sonnenfeld with the same crew but a debutant screenwriter, Lowell Cunningham will be able to reignite a dormant franchise and make the cash counter running by delivering a blockbuster.

Agent J (Will Smith) and agent K (Tommy Lee Jones) have been together since last 15 years. They account for the safety of our planet, throws in slapstick humor against each other and take care of the extraterrestrial activities happening in our realm. When a long lost enemy, Boris the Animal, played eccentrically by Jemaine Clement, goes back in time to kill Agent K, Agent J decides to take a trip down the same lane and stop the inevitable.

The obsessively detailed aliens, enormous set pieces, spectacular action sequences and the eye popping 3D, the director and our duo has scored a home run. But the most enthralling of all the achievements is the balance between the technical aspects and the human heart. The two veterans shine with an electrifying chemistry all the way and are in top form.

Where the movie falters is in its script. It leaves the viewer with a been-there-done-that kind of feeling. It never justifies its existence. It definitely is better than the limp sequel, MIB II (2002), but does not quite match up to the heights of the very first outing. A bit more creative climax would definitely have given more juice to the proceedings.

Men in Black III works in parts. It will keep your popcorns churning, but will leave you wanting for more. And when the curtains go down, you definitely won’t require neutralizing your memory. It deserves a watch!

Rating- 3/5

Friday, 18 May 2012

The Gift Of Being Left Out

She looked out from the open window. The rain was pouring down beautifully from the dark clouds. She longed to hear the splatter of drops on the wet pavements. She thought to herself about the soft sound the wind would make while rustling past the wet leaves. She wished she could hear her own voice. Her little world had been oblivious to sound since she gained consciousness, but today, these were the only things she felt misfortunate for in her life.

There were days when she stared around herself, completely lost and terribly broken. She used to seek for meanings in the harrowed spans of silence that once were her sole companion. She considered them her foe, her nemesis. Her silence was usually broken by array of dreams where she visualized paradise and life beyond her inferno.

Soon, the void of emptiness cleared. She grew up and her silence became the river of her knowledge. Her eyes became the receptor of sounds. Though still unable to hear, she started to acknowledge the calmness in her silence. She looked around herself and saw dilapidated people getting agitated over a slight unwelcome note falling upon their ears. It then occurred to her, “The gift of being Left Out.”  

It came like a blissful shower over her thirsty land. The gift of being left out from the hollers of violence, the whispers of greed, the hisses of betrayal and the sighs of helplessness. Her silence was a carnival of peace, generous in its giving. The gift wore the mask of the everlasting light in her deep abyss, lighting her soul with bright rays of hope and life.

Years passed on in comprehending her gift. Sorrows were inflicted, but the fathom of understanding has been deepened. Today, she whispers to her silence, absorbs her void and searches her abyss for the profound knowledge of her own self. Her gift has always been there, regardless of time and space, guiding her towards horizon, guiding her towards her Sun. 

Thursday, 10 May 2012

Be My Muse, O Rain

I kneel down in front of you,
O rain,
Be my muse, my savior, my redemption.
Descend from righteous heaven to this dreary earth,
And wipe away the sins of mankind.
For thou is the holy water,
And thou is the saint sent to wipe away the charlatans.

Let every touch of thy drop be angelic,
And let every crystal of thy perish the violence slowly.
Bathe me out of my misdemeanors,
And turn me into a faithful believer.
Let your flamboyant purity,
Deliver me from the darkness  into an eternity of light.

I seek love in the creaks of the cloud,
From where thou set your foot in our realm.
I delve for the final completion of myself,
In the way thou caress my skin.
Let the shining crystals in the heart of your droplets,
Fill my soul with rays of forgiveness.
I kneel down in front of you,
O rain,
Be my muse, my savior, my redemption.