Sweet Child O' Mine

for S.

there are words that can't be translated adequately into other languages. the bengali 'obhimaan' is one such. no matter how hard i try, nothing in the english vocabulary comes close to capturing the mix of hurt, righteous outrage and disdain that is contained in that word. and much more.

i watched 'the wrestler' recently. an average flick, quite bollywoodish in places, but as everyone agrees, it rides strong on the back of mickey rourke's effortless performance as randy the 'ram', a jaded, past-his-prime ex-boxer who possesses the smarts of a country bumpkin.

theres a scene towards the end of the film, pretty much the last scene, where randy walks into the boxing arena amidst the usual screaming, applause and histrionics that mark WWF boxing. he has just turned his back on a chance to live again, to connect and matter to another, to do something apart from box. the exact things he'd been longing for throughout the film. there is neither anger, nor bitterness in him. just an overwhelming 'obhimaan' that there is no place for him outside the boxing arena. as 'sweet child o' mine' breaks out in the background, you feel randy's loneliness more acutely for u detect the seeds of ur own.

On middle age versus youth

Explaining he phenomenon of middle age that replaces the excitement of youth, judith warner writes, “There are trade-offs: intensity versus contentment, exaltation versus peace. And perhaps the best exchange of all: you trade in an idea of yourself for a reality that, if nothing else, can make you laugh.” Don’t know whether I should find solace in this or give in to the feeling of utter poignancy it evokes. Desolate seems a good word. Perhaps the fundamental difference is the gradual dawning and acceptance that you are neither the centre of the world, nor are things going to get much better. Life is, it will.