Movie review: The Counterfeiters

Every time I watch 'The Counterfeiters' something happens.
I am transported to a different era, a different place, an entire different continuum it seems. The Sachsenhausen concentration camp. The Operation Bernhard in place. The time period, 1930s.
It follows the lives of some Jews, who were interned by the Nazi, to carry out the forgery of the pound and the dollar, in an effort to destabilise the British and American economy by flooding them with the counterfeited notes. Their conditions when compared to those of the other prisoners could be termed luxury. Since they operate in a scam of epic proportions for the benefit of the SS, they are cut some slack.
Meet the people. Sally Sorowitsch as the ringmaster who was a criminal counterfeiter before being sent to the camp. Then there is Burger, who is a moralist, vehemently Anti-Nazi and refuses to aid in anything that would favour the German side in war. Dr. Klinger, the kind doctor who shouts fake abuses at windows so that the officers don't suspect him to be too lenient. Kolya who wanted to be an artist, but was killed as he contracted tuberculosis. And many others.
There are many masterpieces of moments captures by the director Stefan Ruzkowitzky.
When Sally and Burger are playing table tennis in their barricaded lodgings, and hear shots fired at someone just outside the fence. And an officer gets angry as he fears his counterfeiters could have been hurt.
The five men are standing in front of Herzog waiting to be shot, as they could not produce the pound and are being suspected of intentionally sabotaging the operation. This is true, as Burger-their collotype is destroying the samples to stall the forgery. But when Zilinski is about to reveal the culprit to Herzog, Sally rushes in and lays down the notes on the table. The painful heathen silence subsides.
When Burger receives a letter saying his wife was killed in Auschwitz, and Sally tries to comfort him. He doesn't want to live anymore, and expresses his wrath on their beds which seem a futile luxury to him. And Sally tells him that each day of life is worth it.
In the end when the camp is liberated, the counterfeiters meet the other prisoners who are starving, ragged and unbelieving of these seemingly well-kept Jews at first. Dr. Klinger says, "This is Burger. He's a hero!" A beautiful piece of music plays on the record, as the other prisoners spend few moments of little happiness as mere as the touch of a bedsheet. One of them says to Burger, who eyes are trembling with tears he tries to hold in, "You know, we used to hear the wonderful music sometimes."
And I cry.
Favourite actor: August Diehl (whom you'll recognise from Inglorious Basterds) in the role of Adolf Burger. Mesmerising, this man!!! I don't need to acquaint you with the horrors of the Nazi holocaust, but if you loved Schindler's list, you will love this too. And although it is entirely in German, the experience is none the less for it.

My Dream Party!

I have been following the fashion blog TheClothesHorse quite religiously for the past two years. Apart from the awesome ensembles, art pieces, movie reviews, and poems of Emily Dickinson she posts about...Rebecca also features a section called 'blog style' where she asks her fellow fashion bloggers to describe their dream party! Although I can't imagine being interviewed by her, here are what my answers would have been. :)

What type of party is it? 
The Whimsical Maidens Party

Who's invited?
Virginia Woolf, Frida Kahlo, Sylvia Plath, Cleopatra, Janis Joplin, Helena Bonham Carter, Alice (from Wonderland), Rebecca of Theclotheshorse, Bev of Bevcooks, Laura Callaghan of Lauracallaghanillustration, Xena of Truelebanesefeminist and a few of my whimsical friends and acquaintances- Sukanya Mandal, Swastika Roy, Jayeeta Saha, Atreyei Ray, Sayantani Debnath, Ruma Chakravarti, and Amrita Kar.

Where does it take place? 
It takes place in a bungalow hidden in the woods. There is a big lawn with a flowerbed and vegetable patch which are interspersed with garden gnomes. A gravel path runs down the middle.Wooden benches form a circle around the big tree trunk table. The stream would be flowing just a few minutes down the trail. I'm going to hang strings of tiny yellow lights on the trees, and light it up after the sun goes down. Oh, and did I mention the swings? 

What are you serving? 
Many things. It is going to be a lavish buffet. Watermelon iced teas, rocket and balsamic salad with grilled halloumi and figs, coconut crusted shrimp, tomato and caramelised onion tart, mint raita shots, lamb and prune tagine over pomegranate couscous, summer berry puddings with berry-black pepper compote.

Who would get to sit next to you? 
Maybe the seat on my right would be alternated between Frida Kahlo and Virginia Woolf, and the one to the left reserved for my BFF, Sukanya.

What is everyone wearing? 
Everyone is wearing clothes that fit their personality. I for one am donning a vintage style whimsy print dress with a collar and a cut-out heart back, and some floral wedges with a polka dotted twist headband. Helena is in a black distressed outfit with tousled hair. Janis is in her unique bohemian skirt, crop top, wreath, boots and shades. And Cleopatra is wearing an Egyptian cotton gown with golden jewellery. The rest you can imagine.

Is there entertainment? 
Obviously! There are dreamy songs playing on the radio. Some people are playing cards. I would arrange old-fashioned school games like Oranges-and-Lemons, Dumb Charades and Ringa Ringa Roses. We would share old family recipes. I'd keep a table with a variety of props including: bubble blower, faux fur stole, hula hoop, water gun, whipped cream spray and Play-doh; that the guests can explore and amuse themselves with. Then we'd also go down to the bank of the stream and give in to the inspiration. Click photographs, write poems, make collages, compose songs, paint pictures, or just lounge in the lap of nature. And in the evening Janis would perform some of her favorite numbers. But the most happening entertainment would be a conversation involving such a diverse bunch of whimsical women!

Are there any party favors? 
Yes there are. Every guest gets a CD of my customised whimsical playlist, a box of homemade brandysnap cookies and a gift card for shopping at Modcloth.

What are the hot topics of the evening? 
Literature, Mythology, Feminism, Music, Cuisine, Vintage Fashion, Photography, Magic, Art and the obvious- crazy eccentric whimsical blabber.

Who is the most likely to get drunk and dance on the table? 
No one. Because I’m not serving alcoholic drinks. But people would get on the table and dance, nevertheless. The ones most likely to do so would be Jayeeta, Janis, Helena, Bev and me.  But mostly, Jayeeta.

Who is the last to leave? 
Sukanya! Because she is my best friend and will stay the night with me and help to clean up after the mess. And after it is all finished, we are going to get some pizza and soda and watch “Amelie”.

-Aamen.

Introduced to Writing Prompts

I have always been interested in creative writing since my English tutor implanted the bug in me in 8th grade. Weaving stories in my mind was something I did since toddler years, but my stories are often too long to pen down. I get lazy after writing a couple of scenes and it remains untouched, until maybe a month later when I discover it in my Laptop documents folder, and jot down another scene. So, while my original script plays in the back of my mind, almost all the time, I don't give words to it very often.

So, anyway my brief stint with poetry was met with what I call a 'motamuti' response. I did bag the first prize in poetry writing in school twice, but to me the quality of my poems were, to be honest, not up to the standard. But I've always liked my prose writing capabilities.
Recently, I have been trying to hone my skills further in this department, since I aspire to become a part time contributor in a magazine, paper or a blog that reaches a lot of people. And although I may like my style, I still need to improve on it. hence, I have been on the hunt ever since to look for ideas which I could use to write as a hobby.
And I have found a handful of helpful websites that offer what are called 'writing prompts' to encourage budding writers. A writing prompt is just what it means. It could be a starting sentence, a group of words you'd have to incorporate into your writing, a single word as the inspiration, a specific plot with a specific character or even something as simple as an idea. I am finding it quite helpful.
My favorites from the list are:-
1. Oneword- Offers one word everyday, and 60 seconds to write about it. Helps to learn spontaneity.
2.Fifteen Minutes of Fiction- Offers a grab bag section where you can choose any number of words that are randomly generated, and must then be used to write something. Helps to learn adaptability.
3.Creative Writing Prompts- Has over 300 prompts of various kinds. Helps to learn versatility.

Here are two examples of my writing in response to prompts.

1. A grab bag note written using the words: Drive, dizziness and bulletproof.

Bristol sped her car on the highway, in the dark rainy night. It wasn't that late but since she lived in a town of only 2000 people, the road was almost deserted. She stared straight out into the darkness, looking out into the oblivion. She kept staring like that, who knows for how long, when the sudden horn of an approaching truck startled her. She rearranged herself on the driver's seat. She reached into the a small pocket of her canvas bag kept on the adjacent seat, and pulled out a packet of smokes (a week old), empty for the exception of one cigarette. "To heck with cleansing", Bristol thought aloud. She also pulled out a lighter and lit the joint, and let out a puff of smoke...shortly followed by a sigh. She couldn't stand the noise the car made on the slippery highway. The drone of the engine, was already getting on her nerves. The dizziness would engulf her completely unless she could get a stressbuster.Reluctantly, Bristol turned on the radio. "I love the way you lie" was playing on the station. Talk about poetic justice, this shit is musical justice... she thought. Anyway, it would make the drive more tolerable.Bristol had been up at Coby's that evening. It was not her birthday, or his or their anniversary either. She'd just got an idea out of the blue to go and surprise him at his apartment! Bristol looked after her family business in the small town, while Coby lived in the city where he worked as a contemporary artist. That's what made her fall for him. Silly me, she thought. "Fuck the silly me!"So when she'd rang his bell, she'd hoped for him to come all dreary-eyed and open the door, then look at her with his big eyes, not once showing shock or disbelief, and then let the show end when his lips gave into a big smile that said, "you'd never learn!"Yes, She'd never learn. As it would turn out, she rang the bell and waited for a good 3 minutes before a lanky girl (what the heck, she'd just be twenty) in a camisole and panties opened the door, waited for a second and said, "Sucks ass. I thought 'twas the pizza guy." The string of events that followed are best not mentioned, but it is sufficient to know that things escalated pretty quickly and she was on the highway in half an hour. Bristol had almost reached the corner of the avenue that was just two blocks away from her home. The radio was still on. She listened to Taylor Swift singing, "you might think I'm bulletproof, but I'm not."

2. Describe what you feel using your sense of smell.

It reeks of sweat. The acrid stinging odour is filling my senses. It is sometimes sweet, sometimes pungent and sometimes earthy. I can smell something smoky. Choking and burnt like hot air coming out of a vent. There is also the stink of open drains- acidic, putrefied and organic. But then there is the occasional fragrance of yellow flowers in bloom…rejuvenating and addictive. And then, somewhere in the corner there is a savory aroma that reminds me of home.

Well, that's about it. I guess. See you next time.

-Aamen.

To being best friends forever...

Since childhood, I have never had good luck in finding friends. I had many people to hangout with, but I guess they were never really my friends in the true sense of the word. Mostly, I used to cling to them, give them a lot of love, just to be ignored in return. People enjoyed being around me, 'coz I made them laugh, but no one really made me their own, as I did with them. So, now I come to why this post was conceived in the first place.
I am going to tell you the story of how I found my BFF. Yeah, that sounds filmy and cheesy, but I don't care.
Her name is Sukanya. She was in my school since junior years, but I never really knew her. Yeah, I had heard she was the 'Karate Kid'. And tomboyish with cropped hair. Who cared? I was too busy with my fair-weathered friends to take notice of others.
It was in ninth grade that my life changed. That too in a moment. I already had many friends, but the closest one was in a different section. Sukanya though, by the grace of God, happened to be in mine. She'd been having some conflicts with her buddies (that is none of my business), and was politely abandoned. :/ One fine day, in class our teacher asked her why she always sat alone. She calmly replied that it was because no one was sitting with her. I can't really recall what happened after that, but I ended up raising my hand (only one to do so), and asking my teacher if I could go and sit with her. To tell you the truth it was not because I felt some unseen attraction towards her or anything, it was simply because she seemed lonely, and I having suffered the same thing before, wanted to console her and make her smile. She could have been any other girl, but thank god, it was her. We became partners after that, and we gelled pretty well. We didn't share any similar interests but still something kept us together. Initially, she wasn't my closest pal. I still used to spend most of the break time with my other friends, but I'd take her to accompany me. I don't really remember when we became so close and eventually inseparable.
One thing I remember and something that she will ALWAYS vouch for is our fights during the school excursion. Seriously, I don't remember the reasons, but we used to squabble on petty things, yelling at each other some days, creating a scene on others. But we never stopped talking to each other. Uncannily, we could not stay angry at each other. We may have quarreled and hated each other, but soon after we were back to normal. :P
Anyway, days went by and our friendship grew stronger. A relationship is kind of like stone. As the preliminary days go by, so does the sediments accumulate. Then the rock solidifies as time goes, so that those layers are now indistinguishable, and all you have is a huge thing that is unbreakable. And then there are the challenges. Just like heat and pressure metamorphoses rock, the same way challenges make a relationship stronger.
If I were to describe what I have with her, I guess I just could not. You know you reach a point where no matter what happens you are always there for each other. We may not speak for a month, but still our moments of joy and sadness are both incomplete unless we share it with that person. I figure that is what you mean by family. It is when you have no insecurities, no doubt about the loyalty of the other person towards you, and vice versa. You can be at ease, you can be yourself. 'Coz they accept you with your flaws and you accept them with theirs. It is a wonderful feeling. I hope everyone has the chance to feel it in their lives.
So, here's to being best friends forever, Suku! :* xoxo

Call me weird.

Not really. But I guess there is going to be one, whether I like it or not. I just can't behave normal. Maybe because I am not. I do try to act within the borders of normality though. But no one can ever imagine what's going on in this noggin' of mine! My interests are not shared by anyone I know. They're like, 'Whaaat? You wanna go to Masterchef? You wanna be a stylist? Ugh, such a waste.' I have nothing to do except keep my lips sealed. 

I guess most of my normal peers view me as something abnormal. But, seriously? What is normal even? Some kind of code of expected behavior set up by human society. What is deemed perfectly normal here  maybe utterly bizarre someplace else. So, I have decided to defy all norms of normalcy, and stay in my pretty imaginary abnormal world. 'Coz that is where I belong.

-Aamen.

Mess Chronicles 001:

I arrived from college at 2:20 in the afternoon...accompanied by a roomie and a demonic hunger in my stomach. It was owing to the fact that our morning meal of rice was swapped for 'luchi' without any former announcement. I know to most of you here, that wouldn't count as much, but when you are living away from home the only rice meal of the day holds a special place in your heart and appetite. Anyway, we were supposed to have rice in the afternoon when we returned. So with expectant eyes we peeptoed to auntie and asked her if lunch was ready. She dissapointed us saying that the 'pulao' was still on the stove. I almost skipped a heartbeat. Having Pulao-chicken meant a hike of Rs.10 on the meal, not to mention the extra calories (considering the luchis that were forced on us for breakfast). Moreover, I saw the housemaid plucking at a plate of rice. If the rice was still uncooked on the plate...who knew when it was gonna go into our bellies? Anyway, we kept mum.

At about 3:30...another roommate returned, who then was sent (as per custom) to auntie to enquire about the status of the food. By then, we already had a million mice running in our stomach.
Answered to with a rude 'no'...we did the only thing we could do. Wait. When our 4th roomie arrived, she also went to knock at the door asking for some food. It was already 4:13 then. By that time, we had clenched our stomachs, fought amongst ourselves for the last morsels of a forgotten packet of 'chanachur', sang songs to the goddess Annapurna and made plans to go out for some grub.
Uncle answered the door with a loud roar (yeah, exactly that. A roar)...that gave us (peeping from the staircase) into a heart attack. Our brave martyr stood there and whispered meekly, "Uncle, is the food ready yet?" Much to our astonishment, he replied in a fearsome voice "What have you girls started? You won't get any food now...it will be ready at 7 in the evening" and shut the door on her face. We got bloody angry on receiving such behavior from him, when we had done nothing except to ask for our rightful share of food. We stormed back to our room and started getting ready to go out. We were extremely pissed off and gobsmacked! Just then, at about 4:30 in the evening...that is 8 and a half hours after breakfast we were served lunch (if you could still call it that).
GOD, I so wanna go home. Its so irritating that inspite of paying enough we have to endure such insults and stay hungry for so long after a tiresome day at the college....>_<
-Aamen.

What's the matter with me?

I am eighteen, and I am single. Now, you may say 'Why, I don't see any problem in that.' Well, neither do I. I am happy being single (Trust me!) and I don't sulk over it. But, here's the scoop.

Most of the people I am acquainted with are either committed or dating someone. I see them going out, texting each other all day, whispering sweet nothings, taking pictures and so on. So, I guess sometimes I wonder why I don't have someone to do those same things with (and no, you can't mention my best friend here...'coz it is a completely different context). I have been pondering over this and these are the three explanations I came up with...

1. Maybe I don't look a certain way. Going by popular belief, most guys prefer a pretty girl (as in svelte and fair)...and since I am dusky and chubby, boys don't feel that way about me. Don't get me wrong, I find nothing wrong about the way I look (except maybe my weight) and I really think I am beautiful (I'm kinda self-obsessed); but I guess I have mostly experienced that guys do not look beyond your figure. You just get labeled 'plump' and then there is nothing beyond that. You get 'friend-zoned' and people don't notice you anymore. Now, I can show you a couple of exceptions to this rule. But, exceptions are not examples.

2.I can't bring myself to 'SETTLE' for anyone. I have seen quite a few of my peers get committed to a guy, just because they got proposed. I guess there are certain...(I wouldn't say 'virtues' because some of them are 'vices')...characteristics that I'd like my partner to have, and I just can't settle for any less. Oh, no you guessed it all wrong. It ain't 'tall, dark, handsome Prince Charming out of a fairytale' kind of  thing. I just need to connect with him at an intellectual level. Not that I think I am some big Miss.Smartypants...but I am different than your usual next-door girl. So, the guy for me has to be, well 'unique'. I have been approached by guys who would be readily accepted by other girls...but it didn't work out with me.

3.Sometimes, I feel like I could have been in a relationship if I changed myself in certain ways. I have been told, 'Oh, guys don't like talkative girls' or 'You are just too eccentric' or 'You should lose some weight, no one goes for girls like you' or 'or 'you are so sweet, and childish...but guys like mature girls' and so on. But, somewhere I feel that If I changed myself and became more 'acceptable' I would not be Aamen anymore. I would lose the very things that make me, me. I'd like to work out, for myself...not for becoming more likeable for someone else. I feel that the 'right person' for me,will love me for exactly who I am...no lies and pretensions included.

There, that's the job done. Got it off my chest. I hope I can find the solution to this, soon. :P Until then, adios!

-Aamen.

Bento Art!

 Wondering what these cuties are? Well, these are the pictures of some bento meals I came across. Bentos are a traditional form of Japanese lunches. As usual, the Japanese don’t miss the occasion to be creative in their kawaii way. I discovered bento art a few years ago while looking through food blogs. It captured my attention immediately. I mean, who wouldn't be mesmerized by these culinary works of art! From three little pigs, to hello kitty, to Halloween to baby & mama chicken, these bento creations will make you stare in awe. It has transformed into a flourishing art nowadays! Take a look at some crazy bento boxes here.  

 -Aamen.