Andhagaaram – Review

When darkness falls, everything falls

Debutante Vignarajan and Atlee produced Andhagaaram (Darkness) had a direct to OTT release on Netflix last week. The supernatural thriller is the story of three men — a depressed cricketer, a visually challenged librarian, and a psychiatrist recovering from a personal tragedy — battling their demons. With a runtime clocking close to three hours, Andhagaaram is tailor-made for an OTT release, that it manages to keep us hooked for the majority of the duration is a credit to Vignarajan’s direction and storytelling.

Andhagaaram is one of the most engrossing films made in the Tamil film industry this year. While it may be easy to say this since a majority of OTT releases this year have been duds, Sathyaraj Natarajan’s editing, Edwin Sakay’s cinematography, and Vignarajan’s detailing would have made Andhagaaram stand apart from other Tamil films even if released in theatres.

The non-linear narration with frequent cross-cutting make it challenging to piece together the sequence of events, there is as much work for the viewer as there was for the makers. For a supernatural thriller, there’s hardly any gore or jump scares, and yet, Andhagaaram manages to keep you hooked till the end. Well, almost.

Where the movie tapers off, like a lot of other thrillers, is during the “big reveal”, and that has been the gripe for a majority of the viewers. There could have been a better way to reveal the motivation of a character than a simple phone conversation. While the reason for the events to take place did not have enough conviction, had it been shown convincingly, Andhagaaram could have scored better.

Arjun Das (Vinod), Vinoth Kishan (Selvam), and Kumar Natrajan (Dr. Indran) are the three lead characters, and they play their roles with aplomb. Special mention to Vinoth Kishan who shines through as the librarian. Arjun Das who came into the limelight for his voice in Kaithi has a larger screen time and shows us his acting chops.

While Andhagaaram just falls short of a perfect thriller, it is still a well-made film and will make Vignarajan a director to watch out for.

Parasite Review

Ki-taek: They are rich but still nice

Chung-sook: They are nice because they are rich

Bong Joon Ho is known for directing cinema that works as social commentary. Memories of Murder was about a police investigation hindered by ineptitude, lack of technology, and red-tapism; Okja was about compassion and corporate greed; Snowpiercer showed us about a class system that existed even when mankind was fighting for its survival.

In Parasite, that had been generating enough buzz ever since it premiered in Cannes, Joon Ho takes us into Korea’s class system through the lens of the haves (the Park family) and the have-nots (the Kims). The Kims, dwelling in their shanty basement, are clever, ambitious, and dying for a break. It arrives in the form of Min-hyuk (Seo-joon Park) who recruits Ki-woo(Woo-sik Choi) to be his substitute as an English tutor for Da Hye (Ji-so Jung), daughter of the wealthy Parks. Ki-woo and his sister Ki-jeong mastermind the entry of their parents into the Park household, an absorbing segment in the film that highlights the extent the family would go. With all the Kims working in the Park home, it may seem that they are slowly moving up in the world, but it all changes one rainy night when the Parks are away.

Traditionally, stories about underdogs are about them rising to the top with grit, determination, and honesty. In Parasite, the family you root for is immoral, manipulative and scheming, you’d probably keep yourself at a distance from such families, the Parks, on the other hand, is a family that has made their fortune without trampling on others, which generic rich vs. poor cinema would have you believe otherwise. They aren’t without their flaws, but they are not big enough that’d warrant them to be manipulated.

There are terrific performances all around, but it is the Joon Ho regular Song Kang-ho who steals the show as the Kim patriarch Kim Ki-taek. While the overarching theme of Parasite is about the class divides that exist, Joon Ho never comes across as preachy when telling the story. The Parks irk the Kims in the slightest of ways, unaware of their privilege, which Joon Ho shows us subtly through the rain.

Parasite‘s victory lies in the fact that even as the Kims conspire against a young and unsuspecting family you want them to win, and as everything around them falls apart, your heart goes out to them.

Image courtesy: Parasite Official Facebook page

EA’s FIFA for Mobile

Gaming giant Electronic Arts’ latest version of FIFA for mobile is an engaging football game for those who cannot play it on a console. With brilliant graphics, easy-to-use gameplay, and sound designed to give a stadium-like experience, EA gets all the little details right to give you an enthralling experience. EA has used Cristiano Ronaldo as the face of its product, who is a constant in any team that you choose in the game.

The Campaign Mode

FIFA’s Campaign Mode is a single-player experience that gives the player a range of leagues to choose from across Europe and North America. Each game in the Campaign mode has a set of objectives a player needs to complete to progress to the next game. Easier games at the beginning of the campaign begin from the kick-off, progressing to tougher challenges where the team has to outscore an already leading opponent with the clock ticking. The frenetic pace of the game with near misses and challenging opponents keep you on your toes.

Overall Rating (OVR)

The main objective of the game is to build a team with a high overall rating. Higher the OVR of your team, the more skilled they are in taking on an opponent. All the campaigns and rewards are designed in such a way that a player can progress only if they are able to build a team with a high OVR. You can use the XP points and coins to buy training packs for a player, which will help increase their OVR.

VS Attack

EA has revamped its multiplayer as VS Attack where you are pitted against a random user whom you have to outscore under two minutes. The multiplayer scenario puts you in pivotal moments of the game that you have to capitalize on. Winning a multiplayer game gets you more fans that help you progress to the next tier. A player begins from the Amateur level and can climb up all the way to become the FIFA Champion. Apart from getting fans, winning a multiplayer game can also give you XP points and coins that you can use to increase the OVR of your team.

The absence of commentary, shorter replays, and no match highlights are a few of the minor drawbacks, but that shouldn’t take away the adrenaline rush it gives to watch a player dribbling past the opponent’s defenses to score a goal.

Unlike other games, EA has kept a simple gameplay that helps you get used to the game in no time. The joystick button lets a player dribble the ball. Manually dribbling during a game can be tricky, which is why you can change it to Auto with just a tap. The only button that will be used more is the Sprint + Tackle/Skill button which is used to get possession of the ball.

Even though I don’t follow football, playing FIFA has got hooked me to the game and my interest piqued for the World Cup. I would attribute this to the authenticity that you find in the game. While sports games from other developers use a shoddy version of players’ names and their facial details, EA incorporates genuine player details to their games that makes it more realistic and believable. Now, if only EA got the rights to develop a cricket game.

With the World Cup approaching, FIFA is launching a new update where you can play as any one of the 32 teams chasing a World Cup title. Download the game from the PlayStore or from AppStore

Adios AB

Like many, watching AB De Villiers announce his retirement on Wednesday left me stunned. He didn’t take the normal routine of organizing a press conference, as is the norm. Instead, he tweeted a video via his Twitter account. Which meant that it didn’t give his fans the contentment of watching him play a farewell test or one-day series, as is the routine. Much like the batting that he’s known for, AB De Villers bid goodbye in the most unconventional of methods.

The realization that you’ll never get to watch a cricketer take the field again hits you harder when you have grown up watching them play. Right from their debut, to the first time they showed a glimpse of their genius, to their first match-winning performance, and finally to their retirement, you feel like you have been a part of a player’s journey. Maybe which is why you take so much joy when they hit a purple patch, and feel the blues when they are out of form. Thankfully AB was always a player who was always in-form.

There was something about AB that made you want to be like him, not AB the cricketer, but AB the person. Modest and unassuming, there aren’t many cricketers that are adored as much as AB. It hasn’t even been a week since he took a stunning catch at an IPL game. And it is that image he will leave us with.

Had I been younger and with fewer priorities, I may have shed a tear over his retirement, lamenting the fact that South Africa may no longer be strong contenders for the world cup next year. A part of me would have wanted him to come back. But just as AB has realized that there is more to life than winning a world cup; so have I. And like many others, I wish him well in his new innings.

Image source: Link

Mukkabaaz – Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

Anurag Kashyap isn’t known for holding himself back. In social media, he has been quite vocal against the right-wing politics of rabid nationalism and cow politics that has taken over the country. The rise in hate politics around the world has made the debate of art addressing politics all the more relevant. If ever there was a director in Hindi cinema who could walk the tightrope of balancing art with a political message, it was Kashyap.

Kashyap is known for making hard-hitting films that revolve around vengeance and the dark side of human nature. We have heard about it in Paanch, his unreleased debut film that didn’t sit well with the Censor Board. We have seen him explore the morally dubious in Ugly and Raman Raghav 2.0. In the two-part Gangs of Wasseypur, he told an epic story of a family feud that spanned for decades. Even Dev D, his retelling of the iconic story of Devdas was bleak and moody. But with Mukkabaaz, Kashyap makes his most socially conscious film to date.

The story is set in Uttar Pradesh, the hotbed of divisional politics. Shravan Singh (Vineet Kumar Singh) is an aspiring boxer who wants to represent his country at the highest level. A spirited boxer he may be but is treated as no more than an errand boy by his coach and local politician, the beady-eyed Bhagwan Das Mishra (Jimmy Shergill). When he speaks of his disappointment to the influential Mishra, he is beaten up by his goons. It doesn’t help that prior to the beating, Shravan had fallen head over heels with Mishra’s feisty niece Sunaina (Zoya Hussain), a mute.

Shravan marries the girl before the intermission, but to borrow a phrase from the end credits from 80’s Hindi movies: It’s not the end, it’s just the beginning. It is after the intermission, the complex beauty of Mukkabaaz unfolds. Kashyap and his team of writers take us through the bureaucracy in the governing body in sports and railways by tying it with Shravan’s aspirations and it makes for some riveting viewing.

The pressure of trying to balance his newly-married life and an egoistic boss who berates him at any opportunity builds up to a fantastic scene where Shravan confronts him with that stirring “Jaante hain na hum kaun hain? Mike Tyson hain Uttar Pradesh ke” (Do you know who I am? I am the Mike Tyson of Uttar Pradesh). The quick cuts that mark the start of his day, the thinly veiled insults at the workplace, his inability to devote time to his wife and boxing, and a subdued background score that underlines his growing helplessness add on to, what in my opinion, is the scene of the year.

Vineet Kumar Singh, who up until Mukkabaaz, was probably known as “that actor who plays Manoj Bajpayee’s son in Gangs of Wasseypur” or “the devious friend in Ugly”, has stamped his authority with a stellar performance. He not only looks the part but also brings an earnestness to Shravan which makes it easier to root for him. Singh is supported by a stellar cast of character actors like Rajesh Tailang (Shravan’s father), Shree Dhar Dubey (Gopal Tiwari), Sunaina’s mother (name unknown), or the actor who plays Shravan’s friend Gopal (name unknown).

Sunaina is a strongly written female character who demands to be treated with dignity and doesn’t cower down with fear of her uncle. She dares to look the frightening Bhagwan Das Mishra in the eye even when her own parents know better. Debutant Zoya Hussain lights up Sunaina with a passion that makes her worth the fight.

Ravi Kishan is brilliant as the seasoned Dalit coach Sanjay Kumar, turning in one of the finest performances of his career. While the hot-headed Shravan and Sanjay Kumar have faced injustices owing to their background, Kumar has learned to rein in his anger–a lesson he seeks to impart to his pupil Shravan. Kishan conveys Sanjay Kumar’s simmering anger with a deep, unwavering tone, intense eyes, and an upright bearing even when taunted for his humble background.

In a film full remarkable performances, it is the former chocolate boy Jimmy Shergill whose beady and bloodshot-eyed Bhagwan Das Mishra elevates Mukkabaaz to a whole new level. As Bhagwan (which literally means God), Shergill is frighteningly good as a former boxer turned politician who establishes his fiefdom in the Uttar Pradesh Boxing Federation. He holds the power to make or break a boxer. He has the temerity to ask a boxer to gulp down his urine if he wishes to save his career.

There are several instances in Mukkabaaz where humor plays an essential role in lightening the mood, be it in the songs (notably Mushkil hai apna) or the naturally flowing conversations between the characters. Kashyap’s expertise over the Uttar Pradesh dialect and the comfort with which a majority of the UP-hailing cast of actors deliver their lines lend authenticity to the settings.

Mukkabaaz is a film that dares to question the hypocrisy of the Establishment. Be it Shravan who fights the privileged that gets to judge someone who got their job through a sports quota or the revolutionary songs that literally say “Bahut hua samman teri aisi taisi.”

In Mukkabaaz, Kashyap gives us a hero who is fighting an uphill battle against casteism and bigotry. These are enemies our society has been nurturing for years. It would be naive of the viewer to expect that Kashyap will show his hero wipe out social injustice in a span of two hours. Though all ends well for Shravan, it comes at a price. Maybe this is the takeaway from Mukkabaaz after all, that the ignorance and hatred embedded in our social and political structures will always ensure that the ones fighting against it will have compromises to make. But sometimes, you need to lose a battle if you are to win the war.

Image credit: https___www.comingtrailer.com_images_poster_Mukkabaaz2

For the love of a team

 

 

There are few things that words cannot describe, one of them is the phenomena that’s taken over the city of Chennai in the last few weeks. Chennai Super Kings, after serving a two-year ban from the IPL for being involved in a betting scandal has made a return to the League, which has led to Chennai social media go bonkers. Over the last two years, there has been a widespread feeling of being wronged among CSK fans. Maybe it is because we feel that the ones who run the IPL are jealous of CSK’s success as a top team.

Chennaiites are a proud lot, we are proud of our rich culture, our generosity, our language, the state’s HDI (which is better than its northern counterparts), a national icon by the name of Rajnikanth, Oscar winner AR Rahman, and most importantly, our cricket. There are several moments in India’s cricketing glory that have been defined by its icons, yet, one of its finest moments had to be starring the city itself.

I enjoy IPL because I don’t share an allegiance with any team. Staying disassociated helps me sleep better at night. But that’s not the way a sport is to be watched. Where there is passion, there will be heartbreaks, and in heartbreaks, there will be wisdom. And you will find enough wisdom being circulated in memes, of which Chennai meme-makers do a damn fine job.

Scroll through your social media channels today and you might find your timeline in a sea of yellow. CSK is probably the one team that has been able to retain its core players; the ones the public identify with. Sure they may have lost local lad Ashwin to Punjab, but they still have the old ringmaster in MS Dhoni, and as far as Chennai goes, CSK begins and ends with the man from Ranchi.

Over the last couple of years, Dhoni may have been on the wane as a batsman, but that hasn’t stopped the fans to worship him any less, for there is still a belief that the old fox can conjure up some magic as a captain. Winning will probably be the last thing on the fans’ minds. For now, they just want to see the yellow jersey back on the field again with the familiar face of Dhoni marshaling his troops from behind the stumps, and Gurunath Meiyappan nowhere near the team.

As much as I’d prefer to watch the IPL as a mute spectator, it is nigh impossible to not be infected by the yellow fever. The team has the name of my home after all.

Image credit: http://www.chennaimemes.in/its-official-now-ms-dhoni-all-set-to-play-for-csk-in-2018-ipl-council-allows-to-retain-max-5-players-for-each-team/

 

A fall from grace

It was April 2000. I was twelve when Hansiegate broke out. I remember arguing about how Hansie Cronje was not guilty with my English teacher. I was fighting back tears, not caring that I was creating a spectacle in class. I remember brushing off my friend who put an arm around my shoulder asking me to calm down.

I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that Hansie had thrown games away in favor of money. All the while I was hoping it was a bad dream, and that the Delhi Police was just trying to tarnish the image of a beloved cricketer out of jealousy.

“They are just jealous that Hansie is a successful captain. He’s innocent. You’ll see,” I’d tell my friends between sobs.

I was blinded by my devotion toward Hansie, what was not to love about him? He was ordinary as a cricketer, but he was astute, likable and a team man. Hansie was a South African son of the soil revered by his people. Until the match-fixing scandal broke out.

The concept of match-fixing was new to me. I could never understand why a successful icon of the game would decide to lose games for money. Wasn’t he already earning enough?

As a twelve-year-old, you don’t understand what betrayal feels like. You feel let down when your parents don’t show up for your school performance, you feel dejected when you don’t get the chocolate ice-cream they promised. But betrayal, for a twelve-year-old, is a heavy emotion. When the King’s Commission pronounced Hansie as guilty and banned him for life from playing cricket, I realized what betrayal felt like.

Fans of the South African cricket team are used to feeling disappointed. In June 1999, the year before Hansie’s conviction, South Africa came heartbreakingly close to sealing a spot in the world cup final for the first time. They were led fabulously by Hansie until then. I consoled myself saying that Hansie will lead us to a world cup in South Africa in 2003.

Hansie died in June 2002 in a plane crash. He was the only passenger aboard the small aircraft.

Even after his death, until the age of 20, I’d argue on online cricketing forums of how Hansie was brave enough to accept he made a mistake. I’d be ridiculed by anonymous commenters that he had to accept his mistakes because he was caught with his pants down, stupid.

After the match-fixing scandal broke out, it became tough for me to start following South African cricket. The team would never be the same for me. I started to look at every loss with suspicion and every player with doubt. What if there was a rogue player in the team who was losing on purpose? Will there ever be a player of Hansie’s stature, his cunning, his controversies notwithstanding?

Luckily, South Africa had an influx of inspiring, honest, and tough-as-nails cricketers. The legend of Jacques Kallis was on the rise. Shaun Pollock, the senior statesman had seen his team through various ups and downs, but still held on. There were the mercurial Makhaya Ntini and Mark Boucher; and the little-known trio of Dale Steyn, AB De Villiers and Hashim Amla who were making their mark on the team. And then there was Graeme Smith. A mountain of a man, one to never back down from a fight. He captained South Africa through a purple patch of not having lost an overseas series for nine years.

My faith and love for the team were restored. In the loss of one tainted hero, South Africa had found a dozen more.

*********

Australia captain Steven Smith’s admission to ball-tampering let down the whole of Australia, with even the prime minister calling for his head. Cricket forums on Reddit were filled with angry and dejected Australian supporters who couldn’t believe that a young player, touted to be a modern day legend would indulge in such tactics.

While the Australian public was fuming over the embarrassment that the national team brought them, there was a feeling of schadenfreude among current cricketers, commentators, and the general public who had a dislike for the brand of cricket that Australia plays under the guise of hard but fair. From verbally assaulting opponent teams to as recent evidence suggests, going as far as even physically assaulting a player when paid back with the same coin, Australia had done itself no favors by producing boorish cricketers who brought out the worst in their opponents.

As the controversy engulfed the cricketing world, threatening to take away another promising cricketer, I couldn’t help but think of all the 12-year-olds Steven Smith and his team had let down. This letter from the parent of a pained and confused boy brought back my memories of how I tried dealing with Hansie.

Ball tampering cannot be compared with match-fixing, in fact, it has been advocated by several cricketers, and is a practice that is secretly being followed across cricketing divisions. While match-fixing is taking money from bookies to lose a game, ball tampering is changing the nature of the cricket ball so as to assist the bowler which will help them win a game; but it is a practice that is still against the spirit of the game.

What makes it worse for Steve Smith and co. was that it wasn’t a move made out of desperation, but something that was planned, as Smith put, “by the leadership”. And what has rightly earned them the label of cheats is that they lied to the umpires when confronted about it.

The aftermath of this controversy could see promising careers cut short, reputations getting tarnished, but its most devastating effect will be on the kids who idolize Steve Smith.

Smith’s image now cannot be reversed. He will forever have to live with the tag of a cheat even if he wins the world cup for his country. These kids will probably lose their faith in heroes, even if a promising one comes up. Once bitten twice shy, after all. But eventually, they will give in. They will heal again, and they will rejoice when they find a new hero.

That’s the beauty of sport; it gives us new heroes, idols, and gods. But most importantly, it gives us something that cannot be measured: hope.

Image source: https://maroelamedia.co.za/nuus/hansie-cronje-nadoods-aangekla/

https://www.mid-day.com/articles/sandpaper-gate-why-should-we-believe-steve-smith/19243184

Tu Hai Mera Sunday

Indian cinema is not known for making feel-good cinema. We have seldom seen films that put a smile on our face by the warmth of its characters, the charm of its leading man, and the effortlessness of its story. Every time we try making a film in the feel-good genre, it ends up being too sappy or preachy. Thankfully, debutant Milind Dhaimade’s Tu Hai Mera Sunday (THMS) checks all the three aforementioned boxes that make for a perfect viewing on a warm, lazy Sunday afternoon.

Arjun, Rashid, Mehernosh, Dominic, and Jayesh are five friends from middle-class families in Bombay. Entangled in their own lives, Sunday is the only time of the week when they leave behind their humdrum lives and indulge in some football. Except, after a recent mishap they lose their regular haunt.

As the gang sets off in search of a place to play football in a city that is bursting off its seams, Dhaimade takes us into the lives of the five friends. Arjun (Barun Sobti), the glue that holds the gang together, is a laidback do-gooder who keeps insisting to the girl he woos that he’s a nice guy. Rashid (Avinash Tiwary) is a womanizer who tries to mend his ways after he befriends a single mother of two, Mehernosh (Nakul Bhalla) is a wiry Parsi with anger simmering inside him over all those things that make him lose his grasp over life. Dominic (Vishal Malhotra), is a hot-tempered Anglo Indian who frustrates his mother to no end but when his more successful brother moves in with his fiancée, it unearths a deep, buried resentment he once had towards him. Jayesh Bhai (Jay Upadhyay) is the older and most successful of the lot, who after having spent several years providing for his family looks to spend his time away from familial responsibilities by playing football.

While the plot is about searching for a place to play football, Dhaimade shows us a bunch of men that try to escape the banalities of life by searching for the missing piece that completes them. The screenplay treats love, friendship, sibling rivalry, and escapism with no frills and it feels refreshing. THMS uses outbursts and monologues to give you more insight into a character.

The women in THMS are portrayed to be independent and dignified. Kavya (Shahana Goswami) is a headstrong woman who takes care of her ailing father (Shiv Subramaniam) and manages a corporate life. She even proposes to the man she loves and assures him that she can take care of her own needs. Rasika Duggal plays a single mother of two children with special needs who faces her troubles with a smile on her face, inspiring. Rama Joshi plays the exasperated Anglo-Indian mother who is trying hard to accept their sons’ life choices, be it the wayward lifestyle of Dominic or the fiancée her older son brings. Maanvi Gagroo with her zest for life lights up Dominic and Deniss’ life and in the process winning their mother’s heart.

The camaraderie among the cast is what makes THMS a lively film, be it among the friends or the romantic leads. What makes the movie work is its simplicity, one of the most grounded and romantic scenes in recent times is because of how it shows a conversation between two people, without any melodrama or any fuss. The actors work so well together that you are left wondering about their backstory, of how did these men from different walks of life meet each other.

Tu Hai Mera Sunday captures the middle-class life in Bombay splendidly, making the city a character on its own. I could taste the vada paav that’s being served, smell the coffee bean that is used as an ice-breaker, and feel the hustle and bustle of the beach. It is probably the sweetest film to have come out of our stables in a long time. Catch it on Netflix.

Image source: https://img.etimg.com/thumb/msid-60983136,width-643,imgsize-296891,resizemode-4/tu-hai-mera-sunday-review-a-gem-of-a-film-that-will-leave-you-thinking.jpg

Steering the wheel

In this edition of the Blog, I am going to tell you about how I am learning to drive.

I grew up believing that I would die either by getting bit by a snake (just typing the word snake gives me heebie-jeebies) or by meeting with an accident while driving. Driving is a legit fear for thousands of people in the country and I often find solace in knowing there are celebrities and other regular folks who don’t drive. It was only a few months back that I learned how to drive a geared motorbike.

Realizing that I cannot run away from my responsibility of ferrying my wife upon her command, I grudgingly decided to learn car driving. I had a driving license for a four-wheeler that I got a few years back, which, in a country like ours is no big deal, but driving a car without getting a dent or running over someone is a just another talent because as that saying of a famous tyre company goes, “the streets are filled with idiots”. After much discussion, we decided to go for a Wagon R automatic, which meant I didn’t have to worry about changing gears while driving and could focus on hurling expletives at pedestrians and drivers instead.

The initial few days were me getting used to the car’s apparatus: the steering wheel, the brake, and the accelerator. How much foot on the pedal is too much, how much do I need to steer to prevent hitting a cow (because killing a cow can get you lynched), how much brake is to be applied when a pedestrian suddenly jumps in between, that kind of stuff. The first few days of car driving were like steering the Titanic, except that Titanic had the whole sea to itself and still sank.

While reversing is a skill that I haven’t mastered yet and can make do only with assistance, I have grown in road confidence. I drive cautiously, with my worst fear being that I don’t do a Salman Khan’s driver with a pedestrian or other vehicle. From being particular about having my father seated in the passenger seat, I have gone on to driving solo but only on familiar roads.

During my first time driving without any guidance, I was patting myself on the back for having navigated the roads calmly and cautiously. I often needed assistance to park the car inside the gates, but as I had had an incident-free ride from home and back, I felt parking would be a piece of cake as I felt I was used to it by now. But all it took was a tiny error in judgment and the next thing I heard was the side of the car grinding against the gates. Panicking and not knowing what to do, I made things worse by accelerating forward, and before I knew it the car had a nice big scratch.

In trying to drive a car without anybody giving me instructions, I learned to be a little confident and felt like a grown-up, much like the first time I drove a bicycle without anyone holding on to the backseat. Sure I ended up giving a neat little scratch to my car, but in the end, all that matters is that I keep driving.

 

Rebooting

It has been a long, long time since last I wrote a word, let alone a sentence on this blog. I had to even reset my password because I couldn’t remember it and had trouble logging in. It’s quite a shame that I kinda gave up on writing, even though that is the only thing I know. Maybe there was nothing that moved me enough to write, even marriage. Over the last couple of years, I had been living that docile life of changes and responsibilities that came with being married.

While marriage gives you truckload of content like getting to know your new relatives; adjusting to the several quirks of your partner; arguments and counter-arguments; the first time you were right and got so carried away that you rubbed it in your partner’s face by doing a victory dance and yelling “oh I told you so!” only to remind yourself to never to do it again because of the backlash that followed, none of all that I had experienced made me want to sit down and write. It didn’t help that I was lazy and only looking for excuses to spend my time racking my brains to write content.

After much self-reflection and locker room motivation speech from wife, I have decided it is time to get back to writing again. That is the only way I can improve myself as a writer, person and a job seeker who has used the word “writer” 21 times in their resume.

Over and out.