Yet another morning, jostling for foothold in the crowded bus-stop, amidst the tumultuous roars of furious engines and din of restless horns, I stood, waiting eagerly- an eagerness devoid of hope or enthusiasm- for my usual sweaty ride to the office. I stood there every morning, like clockwork, wondering if my spirit dragged my body or vice versa. I knew I wouldn't find the answer, but just to save my face for myself, my mind would divest itself in "activity" as if to divert me, from myself. The activity, call it perversion or frustration, was, as usual, picking the ladies passing by the road, and ogling at them- staring there where, probably somewhere in their deepest darkest corners, they like to be stared.
Posted by Vicky Dada posted Wednesday, January 15, 2014
This is not a review, per se, of the movie Gravity but an acknowledgement of the experience that it throws us into. The last time Gravity played its trick, about five centuries ago, it created a revolution that changed the world. An apple fell on Newton and the rest is history. Maybe the apple saw what was in Newton's mind and fell FOR him, and not ON him. Gravity, it seems, has enacted its trick again, and this time it fell UPON Alfonso Cuaron to pick up his pen and, seemingly at least in my case, revolutionize the way we saw the world.