Saturday, April 11, 2009

D. It is written.

Jamal Malik is one question away from winning 20 million rupees. How did he do it? (A) He cheated, (B) He's lucky, (C) He's a genius, (D) It is written.

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it's been a while since i last watched a movie, let alone watch a movie on my own. i intended to watch Dragonball Evolution which i knew for a fact was showing today. i was pretty depressed that i decided i wanted to watch something entertaining. when i got to the mall, i saw that Slumdog Millionaire opened here in Manila and i couldn't help myself. i bought the ticket, picked a chair (pretty nice seat, F18), ate my lunch, smoked, got a bathroom break and went into the theater. it was great. the film won an Oscar for Best Picture, for crying out loud. i know i mentioned it here before that i felt bad Indian actors get to be in Hollywood. or that despite being both third world countries, India is getting ahead of the RP in some areas.

during the first few scenes i was afraid i made the wrong decision of watching it or watching it alone; that i might not be able to handle some of the scenes. but then i said, it happens in India, it happens here, what difference does it make? so i stayed and i liked what i saw, despite the fact that there were scenes difficult to stomach. i even found some parts funny. i could even relate to the love story. a little. although i didn't have to beg for money, be a prostitute who gets betrothed to a gang lord until she eventually finds her true love, the 20,000,000 rupee winner (no, i don't think michael gretchen lotion is that rich, that he likes to answer quiz/game shows and he wouldn't swim into a pool of shit just to ask for somebody's autograph. i don't think so), i was able to relate to the love story in a different manner. because there is such a thing as COINCIDENCE.

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TO WIN HER HEART, HE MUST WIN THE GAME.

for those who don't know yet: the movie is about Jamal Malik, an orphan from the slums of Mumbai, India who joins the game show only for the reason he knows his first love, his true love, Latika, will be watching the show. the guy serves tea in a call center. he is suspected of cheating because he is just a question short of winning the grand prize and people can't believe, or don't want to believe that a person from such a lowly, humble background could get all the answers correctly. what's even interesting is the fact that he's not even concerned about the money, he just wants to be able to find Latika. and he does. he gets the answers correctly by chance based on the experiences he has had in his life. the inspector then lets him go back to the show to answer the final question that wins him the 20,000,000 rupees. and then they break into a production number at the end.

and supposedly, Latika and Jamal live happily ever after.

***

i'm not going to try anymore. i want to, but maybe now really isn't the right time.

i've always believed in carpe diem. i've always believed, based on how i know myself, that once i verbalize my feelings towards the person, i will be able to get over it, i will be able to move on with the rest of my life. i would hate it if i had to go on life thinking what might have been. better rejected than regret it for the rest of my life.

i get stumped with you. in other words, i am rusty when you're around. it comes so easy and naturally with everyone else, but i just can't, for the life of me, figure out why i can't tell you how i feel about you.

maybe because i want it to be you. i want it to be perfect, the way with your imperfections, you are perfect to me. i want to tell you how i feel but i don't want to blow it. my friends have been telling me that i have been blowing it, that i keep on missing my opportunities to tell you, or at least give you the idea that i feel that way. shouldn't you know that by now? i've been giving you hints for a while now, and you've turned me down TOO MANY TIMES to actually even bear it. but here i am, hoping you would call just like you did before and i hope or try to make sure that when that time comes, regardless of what you came there for, regardless of what you say, no matter how bad it will be, i would tell you. because i need to, have to. for my sanity, i should. now i know i can never practice well enough and even if i did, i know the right words will never come to my head when the need arises. but i know i have to make sure i say it.

just give me a chance to say it.

white light, white heat

i first read about Sputnik Sweetheart in a music magazine where my friend Ace and his band, Bagetsafonik, were featured. my favorite member (sorry, Ace), Paolo, contributed the song, whose title he got from the book written by Haruki Murakami. when i got the album, i found the song really nice, for lack of a better term. the song is laid back and i like listening to it.

i found out more about Haruki Murakami through my college friends. on the rare occasions we meet, we have this pattern that just rotates: coffee, food, record bar, bookstore. we talk about the music we listen to currently, the movies/plays we've seen, the books we've read, the books we bought but haven't read and one of them was Haruki Murakami. one of them described his book Norwegian Wood, after the Beatles song, as depressing to the point that you want to kill yourself. i found it interesting but at the time we were at Fully Booked i didn't get that book. i mean, i already have suicidal tendencies. i didn't need any literature to push my buttons. besides, Sputnik Sweetheart was about a lesbian writer =)

i cried when i read this book because i feel bad i didn't write it. it's like he got my heart, drained it out of all its emotions, put them into words and they became this book.

we all have that someone we wish we could be with but cannot have. we establish a friendship with them and accept that it can be no more than it already is, even when it breaks our hearts just being right next to them, knowing the feeling is never ever going to be mutual no matter how much we try to make it. we content ourselves with that because we know it's better than not having any connection at all.

in Haruki Murakami's Sputnit Sweetheart, that's what he did. the narrator, K, knew that Sumire was in love with Miu but he'd answer her 3am phone calls and her weird questions without ever expecting anything in return, even when there were times that she didn't make sense.

"I loved Sumire more than anyone else and wanted her more than anything in the world. And I couldn’t just shelve those feelings, for there was nothing to take their place.

I dreamed that someday there would be a sudden, major transformation. Even if the chances of it coming true were slim, I could dream about it, couldn’t I? But I knew it would never come true.

. . .

We each have a special something we can get only at a special time of our life. Like a small flame. A careful, fortunate few cherish that flame, nurture it, hold it as a torch to light their way. But once that flame goes out, it’s gone for ever. What I’d lost was not just Sumire. I’d lost that precious flame."

when i read that, i wished i wrote this book. i cried too.

when i listen to the Bagetsafonik song, i am glad that it sounds the way it does. it made me feel light inside after crying so hard.