aaj Pehli tarikh hai...

Aaj Pehli Taarik hai……and I can’t get the Cadbury Ad out of my head. It’s catchy and appeals to my innate silliness. AND I didn’t know that it was, in actual fact, an ol’Kishore Kumar song from a movie called (what else?): Pehli Taarik.
So yeah, I have a retro mind-worm and I hum it at the most inappropriate moments.

…............................................................................ (um, cos I don’t know how to jump from one topic to another seamlessly)

And what better way to start off a month than with *Four Weddings and A Funeral*? I love this movie. The only chick-flick I can sit through without making gagging sounds. Though the ending was a bit too hindi-filmi-ish for my liking.

But, great lines...Hugh Grant...fantastic ensemble cast...Hugh Grant...and well, Hugh Grant. And I have always wanted a wicked-mad uncle like Gareth…cracks me up every single time. Brit-humour is the best; drier than a bone with a sting in it’s tail.

Here are a few:

Tom: Oh, I don't know, Charlie. Unlike you, I never expected "the thunderbolt." I always just hoped that, that I'd meet some nice friendly girl, like the look of her, hope the look of me didn't make her physically sick, then pop the question and, um, settle down and be happy. It worked for my parents. Well, apart from the divorce and all that.
~
Fiona: Where's Gareth?
Matthew: Torturing Americans.
Fiona: How thoughtful of him.
~
Carrie: Having a good night?
Charles: Yes. It's right up there with my father's funeral for sheer entertainment value.
~
Tom: The great advantage of having a reputation for being stupid: People are less suspicious of you.
~
Matthew: I remember the first time I saw Gareth on a dancefloor. I feared lives would be lost.
~
Gareth: We had the most delightful girl at our table. Carrie, apparently her fiancé's terribly grand and owns half of Scotland. How about you?
Charles: I seem to be stuck in the wedding from hell, ghosts of girlfriends past at every turn. Next thing I'll bump into Henrietta and the nightmare will be complete.
Henrietta: Hello Charles.
Charles: Hello Hen, how are you? [Hen bursts into tears]


That was it, first post of the month. Am brushing over the ick moments, as we all know that I am Lady Bountiful where those are concerned. Plenty more posts to whine and whinge about those. So long....a happy, non-homicidal month to all.

Charlotte's Web

A couple in the opposite building had acquired two goats. I saw them grow from spindly-legged kids to sprightly, handsome fellas. Was admiring them one day, when a friend remarked that they were probably being fed so heartily as they would most definitely end up on the dinner table someday!

Oh yes, Charlotte’s Web was déjà-vu for me.

So we have an unassuming pig named Wilbur. His previous owner, Fern still comes to visit him at his new barn…he gets three full meals…is surrounded by an odd but cheery menagerie and has a new best-friend in the form of Charlotte the spider. *Pig-Heaven*

But there’s trouble in paradise. One of the ol’sheep lets slip that Wilbur is going to end up as Christmas Dinner. Now Wilbur is a young and unworldly pig…so he squeals and he whimpers and he whines. But Charlotte will NOT be a guest at the pity-party. She puts her crafty mind to work and comes up with an ingenious plan.

With an artful bit of spinning, she weaves words (*Some Pig*, *Terrific*, *Humble*) into her web eulogizing her friend. Her idea is that if she builds up the pig’s cred, he might just stand a chance of becoming famous and avoiding an early, sticky end.

Will the plan work and save Wilbur from a fate worse than pot-roast? Read and soak in the magic of E.B.White. Essentially a children’s book, Charlotte's Web has enough nuances to keep you hooked as an adult too. The rustic descriptions of farm-life….the passing of the seasons, so closely mirrored by the changing emotions of the animals…the dry wit and the homilies woven in effortlessly….all add up to a soothing classic.

Special mention for Garth William’s artwork….beautiful and awash in a soft palette (by Rosemary Wells).This book is a fat l'il treasure and makes you wish you were a dreamy, uncomplicated child again.

Here’s hoping my star-crossed goats have as happy a life as ol’Wilbur.

Arf!

I love this panel of Betty and Hot Dog. Reminds me of Leo 'n' me. Hot Dog technically belongs to Jughead but has a soft spot for Betty. Similarly Leo doesn't belong to me but I always feel that the big-lug is rooting for me!:)

The Secret Garden

“I am Mary Lennox. I fell asleep when everyone had cholera, and I just woke up.”

Not a very cheery start, is it? And so a sour-faced, sullen orphan Mary is whisked away from her birthplace India to stay with her guardian, Mr.Archibald Craven at Misselthwaite Manor in Yorkshire.

The manor is a sprawling place surrounded by gardens and desolate moors. Mr.Craven is a reclusive widow and often travels abroad leaving Mary in the care of his unbending housekeeper,Mrs.Medlock and a cheery l’il chambermaid,Martha. In an attempt to pep up the sickly child, Martha regales Mary with stories of her younger brother Dickon. Dickon is a true child of nature...he can talk to animals, spend hours alone on the moors and make anything, absolutely anything grow. Almost a nature-sprite.

Martha also tells Mary about a Secret Garden in the grounds which has been kept locked for the past ten years. No one knows where the key is and even if they did, it would be useless.....since Mr.Craven has forbidden anyone to enter the garden.

By a sheer stroke of luck (or is it thanks to a red-breasted robin?), the now steadily improving Mary discovers the lost key and promptly enters the long-shut garden. Despite the air of seeming lifelessness, Mary sees that there is hope for renewal. With the help of her newly-made friend Dickon, she is soon spending happy-hours digging and planting and growing happier and healthier in the garden.

In the midst of all these developments, she is still disturbed by a mysterious crying she often hears in the manor. She soon finds out that it is Mr.Craven’s crippled son, Colin. The frail child stays in bed, is never visited by his dad, throws tantrums and is convinced that he is going to drop-dead soon! Used to bossing over the household, he meets his match in an equally pugnacious Mary. She snaps him out of his melancholy, befriends him and lets him in on the secret of the garden. As time passes; Mary, Dickon and Colin have some good sprightly fun doing honest labour and watching the garden come alive.

I read ‘THE SECRET GARDEN’ in the Classic Starts version. Simple, abridged…a fresh way to introduce the classics to kids (and useless adults like me). Adding to the charm were the brilliantly shadowed pencil-drawings by Lucy Corvino. It was a charming, light read. You empathize with Mary’s lonliness...get a little impatient with Colin’s moping...and wish that you were exactly like Dickon.

Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince (Film-Review)

You cannot NOT love a Potter movie. Watching Rowling’s world recreated in painstaking detail exactly the way you imagined it, is always a fun ride. And yet….. being a Potter-purist might leave you a tad miffed where ‘Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince’ are concerned.

So we have a teenaged Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) flirting with a muggle-waitress (apparently, in a bid to dull the shock of losing Sirius and have some semblance of reality in his life). But before things can get off the ground, Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) whisks the reluctant hero off onto the first of many tasks to come. A retired professor Slughorn (Jim Broadbent) is reinstated as Potions Master. But what about Snape (Alan Rickman), you ask? Hovering like a malevolent bat, he seems to have much more sinister things up his cloak than usual.

Soon, Dumbledore is taking Potter along on trips down Voldemort’s memory lane (courtesy, The Pensieve). These flashbacks, coupled with one elusive memory involving Prof.Slughorn might hold all the clues necessary to bring about the destruction of Voldemort.

So yes, in essence things are moving along at a desired pace. You get glimpses into a young and even then, eerily-evil Voldemort’s life. Harry discovers a Potions textbook of an old student who goes by the pseudonym of ‘The Half-Blood Prince’ and uses it to do splendidly well in potions. There’s sufficient romantic angst what with Ron (Rupert Grint) snogging a tremulous (and irritating) Lavender Brown at regular intervals, much to Hermione (Emma Watson)'s impotent anger. Harry skitters around his new-found infatuation for Ginny Weasley(Bonny Wright). A grown-up Draco(Tom Felton) looks paler than usual, thanks to an impossible task set to him by The Dark Lord. And the Death-Eaters led by the deliciously sadistic Bellatrix Lestrange (Helena Bonham Carter) and an icky Greyback are wrecking havoc in Muggle and Wizard World alike.

Harry is at his wittiest-best…a tad cocky but endearing nevertheless... Ron plays his role of the blustering bloke with ‘an-emotional-range-of-a-teaspoon’ to the tee….Snape is his usual crisply-loathsome self. And Dumbledore is a joy to behold…as always.

On the downside, vital characters (Hermione, Tonks, Lupin etc) look like scenery while Ginny gets centre-stage. If you haven’t read the book (really?!?)….it won’t make a spot of difference. But if you have…well, get prepared for some serious revamping.

In all, spell-binding to watch for the special effects and sheer grandeur of the sets. More screen-time for a few favourites would have been nice. But in the end it’s Harry Potter…and for the loyalty you owe the wee-Potter lad… just for that…you go and watch and keep the whining to a minimum.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Harry Potter, #3)

Life at the Dursleys is the usual merry-hell, accentuated this time around by the presence of Aunt Marge (horrible sister to the terrible Mr.D). Constant barbs make Harry lose his temper and unknowingly inflate Aunt Marge; a serious bit of non-permissive underage magic. Resigned to the fact that he will be expelled from Hogwarts, Harry sets off on his own and unfortunately ends up meeting the Minister of Magic himself (talk ‘bout bad luck!).

But he gets off scot-free. Why? Because a spot of underage magic is nothing compared to the more pressing matter of an escaped convict, Sirius Black. A follower of Voldemort, Black has broken out of the wizard prison Azkaban for the apparently express purpose of getting to Harry.

So another year at Hogwarts starts... Finally there’s a new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher who seems to know his parchments: Remus Lupin. There are much-awaited trips into the glorious Hogsmeade. But there is also a wee bit of puzzlement for Harry as to why people keep telling him NOT to go looking for Sirius Black. After all, you don’t go looking for your prospective-murderer! But Black’s past is entwined with Harry’s and there’s serious evil underfoot.

Adding to the joyous proceedings are the shudder-worthy Dementors. This was Rowling’s imagination at it’s scariest best. Faceless, cloaked figures with decaying hands who feed on human happiness, they leave despair and depression in their wake.

Infact,Rowling introduced some of her most innovative creations in this book: The Knight-Bus, Dementors, Boggarts, Hogsmeade, The Marauder’s Map, Patronuses, Hippogriffs, Animagi and Time-Turners. She also created two extremely memorable characters in Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

The book was perfect in every way: narration, build-up and unexpected surprises …all woven together with the trademark British humour.

Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince (Harry Potter, #6)

The movie is releasing in a couple of days and I needed a refresher-course. After all, if I am going to be one of those *p-shaw* *tch*, the book was loads better than the movie types, then I better get my facts right!

Harry is now a full-fledged teen hero. He has heard ‘The Prophecy’ and has resigned himself to the fact that he will ultimately have a showdown with good ol’Voldy wherein one of them will DEFINITELY kick the bucket. All around the wizarding world, the Death-Eaters are wrecking mayhem. Harry, Hermione and Ron are effectively tangled in a rush of hormones and unexpected attractions. And Snape (at his nastiest best), has finally got the much-desired position of 'Defence Against the Dark-Arts' teacher.
Enough to make a normal teenager go barkin’mad.

But Dumbledore, being the supremely cool guardian/ protector/wizard that he is…has decided that it’s time for Harry to know exactly what he’s up against. Trips into Voldemort’s formative years (courtesy, The Pensieve) reveal that killing the former is not going to be a field-trip. His Mighty Big-Headedness had come up with the idea of ‘Horcruxes’. He had split his soul into six fragments and enclosed them in different objects with the seventh fragment residing in his own body. These objects could be anything, anywhere and to kill Voldemort means having to track them down first and destroy them. Ace villain move, that!

So accompanied by Harry, Dumbledore sets off on what the latter would call: to pursue the flighty temptress, adventure.

A relatively snappy read, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is engaging. After wading through the onerous 'Order of The Phoenix'…things finally seem to be going somewhere. The book is a tribute to the brilliance of Albus Dumbledore and is woven with the usual blend of humour, emotion and unexpected surprises.

Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets (Harry Potter, #2)

I always find the second in a long-running series the most-fulfilling. After the first, we have the character profiles down to a tee, have decided on our favourites and our pet-hates and can easily summon up the landscapes and surroundings. So now it’s just a question of belting-up and getting ready for ACTIONNNN!! And...Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets does just that.

Harry knows who’s baying for his blood (Malfoy, Snape and good ol’Moldy-Voldy) He has a clearer picture of his powers and abilities. I won’t mention the plot as most of us already know it by rote and those who don’t, are getting converted...as I speak!

This was the only book in the series, which had a singular, central mystery which effectively intertwined all the other goings-on. Rather than laboring on about Harry’s traumatized past and his future trials…..it dealt with his actual adventures in the present. Mysterious mumblings in the walls, an unknown beast lurking in some obscure chamber and hapless victims, it has all the makings of a classic detective novel. Harry gets a chance to prove that all the adulation and hero-worship is justified, and puts up a knock-‘em dead, magnificent fight. Rowling manages to weave in her wise homilies towards the end (it’s the choices that define us and not our abilities) and yet again, it fits perfectly. Not preachy, not patronizing but tailor-made to clear Harry’s misgivings.

FANTASY by George R.R.Martin

The following passage captures everything I feel about the Fantasy-Genre.



"The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real ... for a moment at least ... that long magic moment before we wake.


Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab.


Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end.


Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot.
Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?


We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.


They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to middle Earth."

Charlie and The Chocolate Factory

Recommended for people who:
a) love chocolate like a first-born
b) are prone to flights-of-fancy
c) will root for the underdog and hope that nasty, ill-mannered gits will meet a sticky end.

Charlie Bucket and his family are poor. And honest. And likeable. And in the time-honoured tradition of poor/honest/likeable kids, Charlie will go through the usual pangs of hunger, desperation and out-of-reach cravings before he finally hits pay dirt (read, chocolate)

There is also a candymaker, Mr.Willy Wonka : eccentric genius with a touch of madness and a smidgen of childish glee. He owns the greatest chocolate factory in the world. But fear of rivals and spies had made Wonka keep the factory away from public-eye. Work continued, but not a single employee was seen entering or leaving the place.

Then one fine day, Wonka holds a contest in which five Golden Tickets are hidden under the wrappers of his candy bars. Whoever finds them will win: a daylong tour of the factory and a lifetime’s supply of Wonka treats.

After many nearly-there moments, Charlie turns out to be the fifth lucky winner. And thus begins the madcap tour. Along the way, the other four, truly horrible children get their just desserts (excuse the pun). Charlie…good, well-mannered Charlie gets a truly delightful prize at the end of the day.

I wouldn’t say I loved the book…more like, I was rooting for Charlie. The poor chappie had a truly sad start…what with hunger pangs and squalid living conditions and getting a chocolate bar once a year and living in a town where the greatest chocolate factory exists (that was jus’cruel!).

As a sweet-addict, I did slaver over the delicious descriptions that could be found after every ten pages or so. My favourite passage was:

'Mr Willy Wonka can make marshmallows that taste of violets, and rich
caramels that change colour every ten seconds as you suck them, and little
feathery sweets that melt away deliciously the moment you put them between your
lips. He can make chewing-gum that never loses its taste, and sugar balloons
that you can blow up to enormous sizes before you pop them with a pin and gobble
them up. And, by a most secret method, he can make lovely blue birds' eggs with
black spots on them, and when you put one of these in your mouth, it gradually
gets smaller and smaller until suddenly there is nothing left except a tiny
little pink sugary baby bird sitting on the tip of your tongue’

*eyes closed and look of pure ecstasy*