Sunday, December 14, 2008

Winter


When will this white heaven die? Not white. Off white. Or rather a dirty shade of it. This fever is sick. I still sweat and we are supposed to be amidst December. Go hell with the meteorologists! Born pessimists… yes they are. Can anybody tell me if chills and north-winds and mellow afternoons sell? I don’t have money. But I badly need some hope at least. Badly.

I miss lep, to be very frank. And sweet peas. And colourful scarves. And sneezes. And my shoes. I still wear choti. Else it stinks. Wyaghhhh!
I guess it pains even more when you have to face an ever-bugging-mom forcing socks with choti, and Johnson’s baby cream on every exposed body part after bath everyday. God! Give me winter!! I want to be covered with better material than creams and lotions.

Even the mosquitoes seem irritated. Go on singing to me whenever I plan a nap. I don’t mind the lullaby part… only they sting!

Anyway, back to Bazin. I just don’t know why this guy is so obsessed with the realism crap!! My vote is with Eisenstein. I’ll prefer to create a meaning, thank you. Offfffffffffff I go. Wish you all a very, very blissful boredom.

5 comments:

  1. winter starved, ja bolechhish! Kintu now it's different :) And in almost 8 days I'll be in Rajasthan, begging for some warmth. BHerri nice photo.

    Aar may I pliss join in that singing session of the mosha'a and moshi's? I wish I could, you know, and then face your typical chitkaar-"dhuuur teri, tokhon theke bolchhi, ghnya ghnya...ja na baba!" :P

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  2. dakh baba! manchhi je mone mone oneksomoyi chirbir korechhi[:P]... ta bole "ja na baba bolechhi toke, amon motei mone pore na!"

    rajasthaner kothay mone porlo--- AMI GOLPO SHUNBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

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  3. well, ekhon to winter eshegeche!!! hope tor mon bhoreche............. golay scarf, gaaye sweater.... ebar nischoi njoy korchis?????? but dekhis, sardi lagash na jeno! ota boro kashtokar.

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  4. Was this at al about Winter?
    Maybe.
    But 'twas a well-constructed post anyway.
    Eisenstein sucks, meaning as a cognitive process is the last limit of allowance art can give.
    Eisenstein's didactics are a thing of the last century anyway and can be easily forgotten about.

    Bazin? Errr...allowable upto a point. But easier said than done. No hands at filmmaking... so the theries can't really be called a working model. But elusive ambiguity, although carefully constructed, will seem to emerge automatically from the image. Not Eisenstein's shitty forcing brainwash.


    Well, that's all to it.
    :)

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  5. can you please describe the kind of pleasure you feel on taking a stance opposite to mine?

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