The Songs That Say It All

Whenever someone remarks over a TV show, more often than not its about the cast, or the plot; however, for me what clicks in a TV show is the theme song. Agreed, I do get obsessed with the cast or the intricate plot, but the theme song is where my real obsession lies. From listening to it for hours no end to setting it as my ringtone, I have done it all. Here is a little about the shows and a lot about the theme songs and where to find them.

Sherlock

Originally, Sherlock Holmes lived in the 1980’s and smoked a pipe for recreation, and the modern day Sherlock isn’t too far along. He does indulge in ‘recreational drugs’ and nicotine patches, besides that he is completely tech-savvy, going at it with the latest gadgets and scientific means of experimenting. The background score and the theme song are composed by David Arnold and Michael Price. Caution: Before you know it you will be hooked on and will be listening to the entire soundtrack back to back without a pause. You have been warned!

You can download the complete soundtrack on torrents from the link below:

http://thepiratebay.se/torrent/7036156/BBC_Sherlock__Season_One_Soundtrack_[OST]

Homeland

Phew! What can I say about this show that will do it justice? Merely mentioning its name gives me the chills (which has got nothing to do with the weather in Mumbai, which only alternates between hot and very hot). The plot is very simple, a Marine who was captured and held by the al-Qaeda as a prisoner of war in Afghanistan ‘turns’ against the US, threatening national security. On his trail is Carrie Mathison, the intense and bi-polar CIA officer, who seems to be the only one who can see right through him. Like my friend Prajakta says, “If nothing else, this show must come with a statutory warning stating ‘Not for persons suffering from a heart condition’”. The theme song is a jazz number. It seems like an odd choice for a psychological thriller, yet it brilliantly fits. Of course the song in the link below doesn’t have the vigilant Carrie Mathison saying in the background, “I am just trying to make sure that we don’t get hit again!” But then, you can’t have everything, can you?

You can download the song through this link

http://beemp3.com/download.php?file=20858720&song=Terminal+7

Dexter

Say what you may about how gory or disgusting the show gets at times, the idea of a vigilante serial killer who is also a blood-splatter analyst in his ‘fake life’ (or so he thinks) appeals to everyone at one point or another. This show is known for its season-long plots with breathtaking twists that blow your brains away. And of course the smolderingly hot Debra Morgan who can make a nun turn lesbian. The theme song of Dexter is a music piece composed by Daniel Licht. Although, the video simply relays Dexter’s early morning ritual of waking up, having breakfast, dressing up, trust me, it is creepier than a Psycho joining you in the shower.

You can download the song through this link

http://beemp3.com/download.php?file=6076235&song=dexter+theme

2 Broke Girls

The executive producers of Sex and the City have struck gold once again. Voted as the Best American Comedy of 2011, this show is back with a bang in season 2. Billionaire-princess-turned-broke Caroline finds brought-up-by-an-alcoholic-mom Max and thus begins the most hilarious roller coaster ride of all times. Caroline with her peppy and I-went-to-Wharton tag line along with Max’s stick it in your face attitude and a rack that could stop traffic, make for the most bizarre friends ever. The theme song ‘Second Chance’ also plays as a background score at various instances in the show.

You can download the song through this link

http://beemp3.com/download.php?file=9241342&song=Second+Chance

                        

Congratulations! We’re living in the 1920’s Britan. Not.

Recently I came across this TV show Downton Abbey, it a period drama set in the village of Yorkshire in the UK during the 1920’s. It struck me that the cultural beliefs that they held in the year 1920 are not too different from those that we hold in India currently. Here is how:

Thou shall not believe in something as foolish as ‘love marriages’. This is the most in-your-face similarity that I found. Agreed, back then there were Earls and Dukes and inheritances at stake and so marriages were ‘arranged’ so as to stick to their own kind. So what’s all the hue and cry against love marriages in India in this time and age? What are you afraid of; some cute North Indian gene spoiling the proportion of your Gujju Dhokla?

Thou shall behave like a ‘virtuous lady’ at all times. This is a funny one, because despite living in a world where when you first move into a new city the first question out of your mouth is, “How is the night life around here?”, and yet we want the girls and women to behave like they have a golden halo behind their heads. Like seriously, what’s with the obsession of wanting to wed an angel when instead your married life would be more entertaining if she is an ex-stripper named Angel?

Thou shall be well versed with all household duties. There are actually finishing schools that offer courses in cooking, stitching, cleaning, home decorations and also child development. And honestly, they will never run out of business as long as we keep expecting women to be the one stop shop for all household needs. I would be surprised if the marketing logo of these schools doesn't resemble a Goddess, only instead if a spear and a chakra, she will be holding spoons and knitting needles.

All jokes apart, my intention is not to insult beliefs, or look down on someone who doesn't think or behave like I do. I simply feel that we live in a world of make-belief where we want to pretend that times haven’t changed, and where values and beliefs are thrust upon the younger generations, leaving no room for them to discover their own path. If the youth isn’t given to freedom to slip and learn, then we are simply taking one step forward towards progress and back two towards frustration and disappointment.

Better than the best

I am a huge fan of American and British television shows. I would go so far as to say that I am addicted to them. Two of my favourite shows of all times have been Dexter and Fringe. I used to swear on my life that those were two of the most intriguing shows I had ever laid eyes on. However, recently I came across a couple of shows that made both these favourite shows of mine seem lame and only mildly interesting at best.

I was stunned and it got me thinking that this happens more often than not in life; just when we think that this is it, it can’t get better than this, life proves us wrong by throwing at us something better than the best. All it requires out of us is some patience. Why can’t we wait? Why do we want what we want exactly when we want it? Why is it so hard to believe that life has bigger plans for us? Sometimes we put up with something that we think is the best thing that has ever happened to us, we feel like letting go of it would be worse than death itself. In the process we end up hurting ourselves, time and again, and yet we don’t instead choose to move on and wait for what awaits us in the future.

If there is anything that I have learnt it is that life always has something better to offer. Just before I had come to this city, I had had a bad falling out with one of my best friends. It was devastating. And just when I thought that the kind of friendship I had seen portrayed ‘Friends’ was a myth and too good to be true, I met this extraordinary person who restored my faith in friendship and in fate itself. Today we are almost like soul sisters and I shudder to think how barren life was before I had discovered this bond. All I had to do was wait, have patience, and I finally found the kind of BFF I had always been looking for.

Don’t go through unnecessary pain and tolerate cruelty and injustice at the hands of someone who doesn’t value you enough just cos you are afraid that you may miss out on the best thing that ever happened to you. If it was really that great or meant to be, would it be so difficult and painful? 

From ‘could be’ to ‘maybe’

We have all been sold the idea of a ‘Soul mate’, by books, or movies or TV shows. Since time immemorial, man has always been on a quest to find that one person who is the other half of his soul, the one true companion who understands and loves him like no other. Times have changed, the world has progressed tremendously, in various aspects, but what has always remained a constant is the search for that one true love (unless of course you are a Gujju chick born with the ‘$’ symbol imprinted on the your eyes and embedded in your genes; and are also the poster girl for “Gold-diggers Are Us”, in which case your true love is money, honey).

In our lives, if we are lucky, there comes a time, or a moment when we tend to get to know a person, a complete stranger, with whom we seem to form an unexplainable connection. The kind of connection where you have to merely think of that person and the next moment you receive a call or a text from that person; you get the drift. And you think to yourself, ‘Man! This is awesome; is it for real?’ Maybe it is. But them you are also scared as it is almost too good to be true. You probably think to yourself that maybe you are making too much of it, and that it isn’t really that spectacular.

Many of us have this image in our heads of ‘The Soul mate’. We have carried it around in our mind long enough to actually conjure up the person out of pure imagination. We think, ‘How difficult is it? The world is huge, surely there is one such person who matches the one I have in my mind?’ there is nothing wrong in thinking so, only that in the quest of something that is merely a figment of your imagination, you may tend to let go of the real, breathing person whom you have a strong bond with. You may tend to let go of that person just because that person may lack a few traits that you have always wanted in the love of your life. What is more pitiable is if these traits happen to be of the physical aspect. What, are you looking for a mannequin to put up in your shop, or for a life partner?

Everyone has their own fish to fry, and I am no one to judge or advice. All I can say is think, imagine yourself at the age of say 50, when you are at the top of the game, have a successful career, beautiful children; whom would you like to come home to? A gorgeous trophy-wife who is too busy attending a ‘kitty party’ or splurging your money on an impulsive shopping spree to give you a warm hug and a kiss when you return home from work; or a warm and cheerful person who would be all ears when you discuss your day, and be your rock when your boss gives you a tough day?

This doesn’t only apply to men; women can and are capable of being equally superficial, if not more. We want others to be envious of us for having the most good looking person by our side. Its how humans, irrespective of their gender, are programmed to be; we would rather be envied and approved of by the society than make ourselves happy by choosing someone who makes us happy. But are those people whose opinions and approval you give a damn about going to be there to warm your bed or lend you support when times get rough? No, its going to be the person you choose to be with. Don’t let go of what could be the most beautiful relationship of your life for something that may or may not be.

The Dream Embedded in Reality

The pent up emotions flowed in the form of words.

What other outlet did she have?

The dream she had witnessed a few nights ago was just that, a dream;

It could never be translated into reality.

It had been so beautiful,

Like everything in the world was so right.

He had come to her in her dreams.

Everything had been so perfect.

He had healed all her wounds,

Every touch of his felt like the healing balm that soothed her soul.

She felt renewed, revived, replenished.

They had looked at each other for hours to no end;

Each knowing exactly what the other was thinking.

It had always been that way between them,

Neither had needed words to express their deepest feelings.

They were in complete sync, fully attuned to each other’s minds.

In the dream that night, they were united in body and soul,

Both bare of all inhibitions,

Lost to the world,

Touching, feeling, kissing; two starved souls fulfilling one another.

With each stroke they inched closer to the ultimate release,

The perfect rhythm, in complete abandon,

Each wanting to please the other, pulling at no stops.

In the end the world shattered in the most heavenly way possible

It felt bittersweet; they lay besides each other.

Oh she remembered it so vividly, the dream searing into her conscious mind.

But like all good things the dream came to an end, she woke.

Reality struck like a cruel blow.

If only she could fall asleep again and be lost in his arms.

That was not to be.

A dream was all it was, and a dream was all it would ever be.

Blank

Many a times she felt the urge to write, but no words came to her. She kept staring at the blank sheet of paper waiting to be filled, but her mind mirrored the blankness of the paper. Writing helped her relieve the anger and pain she felt, kept it all at bay for a while; but how can you write when you don’t know what you wanna write about?

She wondered often what would make her feel better. Revenge was too easy; she knew a million ways in which she could avenge all that he had put her through. He would be finished by the time she was through with him; a mere shell of a man. But that would be too easy. Also, it was beneath her. She wanted closure, but seeking closure in the misery of the person who had hurt her wasn’t her style. She had tried talking sense into him, tried to make him understand the effect his words and actions had on her; but he had behaved like a man-boy, refusing to take responsibility, instead resorting to downright denial.

There was no point in dwelling on the past. It only brought about more pain, dragging her into the depths of darkness from where she found it impossible to escape. When the heart is ripped apart, it’s a death of its own kind, where the body is alive but the soul is long gone. How long would it last, this existence like that of a corpse?

It seemed futile sometimes, all this hurt for what? For someone who is long gone, for someone who didn’t deserve her? She knew her worth, yes, she did. Every time she had looked at him she had seen ‘perfect’ written all over him. What she had failed to see was the fine print: waste of time.

All it took…

All it took was one dialogue that she came across in a TV show; “The reason it fucked me up so much is because that was the one thing I was so sure and so wrong about at the same time.” And that was her undoing. Everything unraveled. Like a series of falling dominoes  Her calm, composure, all that she had attained so slowly fell away chip by chip, slowly at first, going faster, like a floodgate had opened, and she just couldn’t stop it.

She realized that that was the answer to all the questions that she had asked, that kept her awake at night in endless agony, what had gone wrong? It hadn’t been the first time that she had lost someone so near and dear to her, wouldn’t be the last. Then why had it affected her so much? It was because she has been so sure that he was the one person who would never hurt her in an irreversible manner, foolishly her trust ran that deep; only, fate and time proved her wrong in equal measure.

The tears came unbidden, retracing their favourite path down her cheeks. ‘Cry me a river’ was the phrase most lovers used, well, she had cried an ocean. She knew it was never going to be enough. When all it took was one random dialogue out of a TV show to unravel her, it was going to be a long time before she felt sane again. All she had were stolen moments of tranquility she found in the bottom of a glass of scotch or rum. She was anyway too broke to be a full-time alcoholic. 

One step forward, and back two

A distant memory crossed her mind, softly, like the whisper of a child; her breath stilled, she was instantly transported back into the past. The memories always came back without any warning; sometimes like a gentle breeze that soothes you on a summer night, and sometimes like a curse straight from hell. She couldn't remember what had caused the memory to strike so suddenly, or why it had come to haunt her, but it did.

Things had been much better lately. The smoldering rage that burned her very soul was abating; the tears didn’t come so frequently anymore. Inner peace was slowly being restored; the nights weren’t so much of an agony anymore. She had learnt that time doesn't really heal the wounds; it just diminishes the intensity of the response that the wounds once brought about. Time brings acceptance that a small part of you will always remain broken beyond repair; that that battered part of you will always belong to the person who caused the pain. Love comes with a price, oh and the price she had paid.

 The cracks in her soul were visible in the depths of her eyes. Some days weren't so bad, she felt fine, renewed even. And just when she thought she was getting better, that she could laugh a laugh that was reflected in her eyes, the memories erupted from the woodwork and proved her wrong. Then the tears would flow and her breath would come in gasps, as she tried to keep her world from crumbling yet again.

The damage had been done. She knew it was never going to be the same. She just hoped that someday she could lock up all that hurt into a corner in her heart and not let it affect her the way it did now; but she knew that today was not the day. The memories lurked in the distant abyss of her mind, like the dark clouds that warned you of a fast approaching storm. She managed to keep them at bay, but for how long could she continue to do so? Every day was an effort to get by. It was like taking one step forward into the future, and two steps back into the past. She kept walking. She had to. What was the alternative?

50 Shades of ‘What the hell is wrong with people?’

Since the last 3 to 4 months there has been a lot of hue and cry over the 50 Shades trilogy. No matter which bookstore I went to, online or otherwise, these books were on the bestseller list at each and every one of them. I decided to read them for myself and be my own judge despite the positive reviews. All I knew before I began reading the books was that they were supposed to be a love story, also involving some steamy, kinky and not-so-conventional sex escapades.

However, all I experienced when I finished reading the trilogy was 50 Shades of painful disappointment. The trilogy claims to be a “romantic love story” but that’s as far from the truth as night is from the day.

Sure, the author has pretty much convinced every possible person on planet earth (considering the “glowing reviews” you will find online), but this isn’t the ‘make your soul cry’ kinda love story. Its merely a blown out of proportion version of a Mills and Boons novel, with a 20-something out of bounds billionaire with a shady past who falls in love with a naïve and oh-so-different college girl.  Somehow the author has managed to drag this concept over three big fat books. Sigh!

The characters are run of the mill; the male protagonist being drop dead gorgeous, with Greek God-like looks and a troubled childhood which he tries to deal with by engaging in kinky, abusive sex. Way to go, hot shot billionaire! Sigmund Freud would have a field day with this nut job! The female protagonist is portrayed to be a meek (not), innocent (not), different from regular college chicks (NOT) sort of girl. The story line is lacking of a story of any kind.

At various stages of reading this book you will be forced to question yourself that what makes them click as a couple? Is it love? You will doubt it as the only connection you will see between the two is lust. The repeated “Oh you are so beautiful” and “I love you so much” hold little or no convection, and won’t make your heart flutter.

Since the time I could read, I have been am adherent reader of romantic novels, classic, historical and modern. So trust me when I say that this book isn’t going to stir your heart or make you say, “Damn! Will I ever find this kinda love?” Read this trilogy if you are looking for some new tricks to implement in bed. If you are looking for a touching love story that will “Possess you and stay with you long after you have finished reading the books”, STAY AWAY! This book is not going to touch you deep inside, at least not your heart *wink*.

In journalism school we had been taught that nothing sells quicker than sex and scandal, and thus, this worthless waste of valuable pages is budding proof of this very fact.

Trust in tatters

She looks into her eyes the mirror and sees broken brown shards staring back at her. When did that happen? When had these laughing, twinkling eyes turn into bottomless pools of pain and regret? Was it the result of loving too much, or loving the wrong person?

She wanted to let it all out, but the words failed her. How do you four long years’ worth of emotions in words? How do you explain the bits of your torn soul seeping out of you? There were so many questions; only questions, but no answers.

She asked the questions over and over again, but to no avail. How do you become completely disposable to someone when that person swore that you were the best thing that ever happened to him? She had seen her friends tread down that path of broken hearts and shattered dreams, of emotions taken for granted; but she always said to herself’ “No, he is different, he would never hurt me that way; he would never knowingly take advantage of my vulnerability or break my trust.”

Alas, she was so very wrong. Trust was broken. Tears were spilt. Pain ripped through her soul in a way that it would probably never mend. Her spirit lay shattered. The smiles no longer reach the eyes. The laughs no longer emerge from the heart. Something froze within her, never to be thawed. She learnt a painful yet important lesson: When you love someone 100%, you give that person the power to destroy you 100%.

When you find that person whom your soul connects with, and that person wrongs you and leaves, it can take away your ability to ever trust someone again. It can take away your faith in the almighty force.

No amount of grieving, no amount of remorse can ever heal the wounds that lay embedded in her heart. Days pass, bringing no peace, no calm, no relief. She goes on with her life, her trust in tatters.