Paper Notes v2.0 #9

Paper Note v2 - 9


Open Letter to Imtiaz Ali – Reaction after watching Tamasha


Dear Imtiaz Ali.

Last evening, I finally decided to watch your movie named ‘Tamasha’ and since then I am feeling a bit disturbed. Firstly, I want to tell you that I am a very big fan of your movies and specially ‘Rockstar’. Rockstar is a kind of movie that moves my heart everytime I watch it. I refrain watching it now because; I lose control on my senses and do something that ‘normal’ people tag as ‘abnormal’. Since I loved Rockstar to that extent, I was pretty excited to watch the trio (Imtiaz – Ranbir Kapoor – A.R. Rahman) again. Somehow I missed the first day show and I do regret it because the reviews started to pour in from everywhere. ‘Midas touch is lost’, ‘same story told yet again’, ‘A totally bad attempt’ and so many opinions disturbed me and soon I lost the interest in watching the movie. I was disappointed to the core but then somehow things turned automatically and on Wednesday, I planned to watch it with my friends.

So now the movie starts and within 5 minutes, I understood that I am going to experience something extra ordinary. In the introductory song, Chali Kahaani, it was pretty clear to me that my Imtiaz is back! First half was predictable and I could see the face of the audience in the intermission that most of the people were disappointed but I still had some hopes that the second half will leave me dumbstruck and believe me, the same happened (At least with me).

Imtiaz sir, hats off to you because the way you portray the characters is something that is unimaginable. Character of ‘Ved’ was something that is not pretty easy to portray on screen because it’s all in his head, the turmoil that he is facing is something that just can’t be expressed to the audience but the moment he stands in front of the mirror and starts to talk is something that took me off chair. Another moment that left me with tears was the scene just before the song ‘Tu Koi Aur hai’. I was unable to leave my seat even after the movie ended. I was still lost in the story of that ‘Nag called Bachchpan’. I have lived my passion and I know how it feels to stand against the world to protect our dreams.

At the end, I want to conclude this with a request that please never stop making these kinds of movies. Let the people say anything but your movies are something that work as fuel for dreams that are burning in our soul. You gave me the reason to work hard and leave the life of mediocrity. I have started to listen to that ‘Nag called Bachchpan’ who keeps on reminding me that I am special. You won’t believe how badly I want to meet you and thank you for this movie.

Your Fan.

(Who started dreaming again!)


the transition

The night could not be darker. It had rained recently and paved road was shining like metal in monochromatic yellow streetlight. The fragrance of newly blossomed flowers was stimulating her sensations. She, while, was sitting on a huge white bed covered with long white curtains hanging freely around the bed. She felt so fragile and beautiful and untouched. Craving for something and then everything. She blushed for an unknown yet pleasant reason.

A green, unmarked and smiling leaf of a tree started shivering in response as cool monsoon breeze touched her green smooth skin. Wind got surfaced on her, leaving her unable to take any long still wanting some more. As the wind blew harder on her she started to dance on the rhythm composed by the fresh monsoon breeze, her master. Agreeing. Yielding. Surrendering. Making her to be flown with the wind. Losing her and submitting to the wild wind. Allowing it to do everything. Every possible thing. And then a drop of rain fell on the leaf. Completing her. Making her gorgeous.

Both of them giggled as she slowly collected her breath and loosened her grip on the long white curtain.

AMERICAN DREAMS… by Siddharth Joshi

Name : American Dreams
Author : Siddharth Joshi
Pages : 255
Genre : Fiction
Source : Author
Ratings :
Story : 3.5/5
Cover : 4/5
Writing style : 3.5/5
Dialogues : 4/5
Theme : 4/5
Overall : 3.5/5
Beauty :
  • Dan getting his ticket booked in economy class,rather first class,just to stay with Balraman.
  • Tamil slang for friend ‘Machan’.
  • Old man speaking in his sleep.
  • Line ‘capable of generating their own oil’,describing the extent of oil present in Balraman’s hair.
  • The pathetic condition of the apartment,they were going to stay in.
  • The name of the organization ‘Diamonds in the Rough.’
  • Mattresses near the dumpster.
  • A matured attitude of  Balraman over his adjustment in a new place and always trying to calm down Dan who is in a real haste.
Beast :
  • Dan’s suspicious nature whenever he looks at someone or something freaky.
Katie’s View :
The author in his book, deals with the journey of two friends,one belonging to a middle class family and other from a high profiled family,all the way to America.Dan who always wanted to be an American,initially hated to be there. Author also describes,that how the land of opportunities i.e. is America, is a combination of both hell and heaven.He also describes how they come across many new things and after many struggles have a happy ending.

The Silent Shriek…

There was this sudden creak of the door. I thought I was dreaming, but then I felt my phone buzzing. Just then, I realized, it wasn’t a dream. I picked up my phone to check the time. There were one hundred and seventeen messages from just two conversations. Just when I was about to check who it was to disturb me so late at night, the door creaked again. I looked up to see nobody. There was nothing but the walls. I stood up, walked up to the washroom door, stood there for sometime, wondering what to do next. I don’t remember for how long I stood there, but I’m certain that it was not a short span of time. My head grew heavy, and my sight grew dim, but I somehow managed to switch on the washroom lights, went inside, opened the hot water tap ans washed my face. I felt relaxed. It had been a tiresome night. I looked at myself, my swollen eyes. I smiled at the mirror, switched off the lights, shut the door and went to bed. Checking my phone, I noticed something odd. I looked to the wall that stood to my right, saw nothing. Maybe I was just hallucinating. Shut my eyes, I went to sleep. It hadn’t even been a couple of seconds , when I opened my eyes wide again. Looked again to the wall that was to my right, and what I saw, sent chills to my bones. My favorite ‘Pink Floyd’ poster was missing! I was scared to death. Not because I heard that creak again (though I had locked the door earlier), not because my poster was missing, but because that wall was now three quarters of an inch ahead of where it was before. I locked my eyes upon it, and just when I realized what really was happening, my heart refused to beat!
I didn’t know what to do or how to react; I went numb! However much I wanted to move and run out of the room, my muscles refused to work. They were jammed. Somehow I gathered courage and tried to move. It was as if I was paralyzed. But I gave my mind all the reasons to instruct my muscles and bones to start working. And right then, I felt a sudden rush of blood to my face. My face turned red from pale. I rushed to take all my blades, needles and sharp tools, and while reaching for the door, got hit by something very hard. I fell down. There was blood coming out from the middle finger of my left foot, I could not help but cry. I stood up with determination, and very carefully reached for the door.  By now, all the walls were about nine inches ahead of where they were before. I tried to unlock the door, and caught the door handle. The door did not open. I pushed it hard, it did not move. I was locked inside….
 The walls were closing in. I could hear them laughing, laughing at me, mocking me. Apart from the walls, there was just visible darkness and nothing else. And right then, the window caught my eye. I reached out for it. Not surprisingly, it was locked too. But I was not going to give up this easily. I let the walls laugh. My room was now thirty by fifty inches wide. I punched hard in the glass, it broke and I could finally smell fresh air, the beautiful fragrance of the soil outside. I jumped through the window and felt free! I was hit, but sat down on the road itself and tried to reach out for my left foot to see how deep the wound was, and right then, I woke up!
 I was in my bed, with my friend fast asleep, beside me. I felt my facial muscles relaxing, It was a terrifying dream. I felt so loose and weightless. I wiped my face, which was sweating, walked up to the washroom door and washed my hands, feet and finally, face. I came out of the washroom, took my iPod and earphones and just went out in the balcony. It was somewhere around 0300 hours in the morning.
It was so beautiful out there, silent, quiet, peaceful, and most important, it was dark! There was something in the air that was hypnotizing me. It was making me lose myself. It seemed as if my soul and my body had departed. I felt so light, like I could float in the air, like I was in paradise…. I was comfortably numb and it felt great. The time had stopped. There were absolutely no thoughts in my head. I could hear the air. It went past me, whispering something really strange, in my ear. I could feel the grass, the wet dew drops that tickled my feet. I was in Heaven… I closed my eyes and tried to move my wrist to reach out for the black rose that was just inches away from me. But I couldn’t move. I woke up, again!
 I was in the woods, running, yelling, shrieking at the top of my voice. Screaming so loud that my vocal cords hurt. I was not tired, I had enough energy to cover a mile more, sprinting. I started crying, crying hard, harder than ever. I bumped into a broken trunk of a maple tree, and fell down. I didn’t stand up again. I rather hugged the tree and then sat beside it, sobbing, quietly. There were marks on my body. Marks of blades, needles and scissors. I was carrying all of these things in my left hand. I spotted some red spots on the ground. I looked up to find nothing. I looked at my foot, it wasn’t bleeding. I looked at my wrist, it was fine too. Just then I caught a glance of my left palm. It was bleeding. There was a deep cut caused by the scissors. I didn’t bother to wash it or cover it, instead I took the very blade that had been there with me all these years, and made quick, outrageous cuts on my wrist. I was trying to let my frustration out. I was yelling, there were tears in my eyes. I kept going on. When I stopped, my whole hand was red. There was absolutely no sign of skin. I started to peel off my skin from my fingers. I ate that skin. I was doing good, and was feeling happy, when I felt a hand over my shoulder. My eyes followed the length of the hand, and then the body, finally reaching the face. It was my favorite friend. At that very moment, I realized that I was missing him. He sat beside me and wiped my tears away. We walked and sang together. It was so much fun. But then he started off with cleaning my wounds. I wasn’t really liking it. I didn’t want him to do that. But he she me up! It was in his eyes, how much he wanted me to give in this habit. I made a false promise to him because I knew that he would never understand how important it was to me to be suffering from physical pain. He was glad. I was glad he was happy. We started walking out of the woods, singing, talking and laughing. It was a beautiful day. It was drizzling too. We were having a really good time together.
   With time, I started disliking him, rather hating him. I was getting emotionally attached to him. I did not want that. I have always been a loner and would very much like it that way. Nobody is important to me and will never be. I am too scared of getting close to anybody. I don’t want to be hurt! I did not want him to come any closer to me. I could not let him in. and so, I left. I ran away from him. I could hear his voice, he was calling out my name, looking for me. But I kept running. And I ran far, far away. His voice now grew fainter. Tired, I sat down and surprisingly, fell asleep.
  I woke up, again! This time, in my room, with music and books. I was in my favorite sweatshirt and had a pen in my hand. I looked around to find a notepad in which I had written some six pages. And then it dawned on me that I had fallen asleep while writing. I smiled at myself, looked up at the ceiling, realizing that I was now in the real world….


“Crime is never big or small, crime is just a crime.” a flash of my father’s image was in front of me. I could now feel the pain on my hand. My father’s stick was the only thing i fear in this whole world.
Father’s image disappeared in a flash and another begin to appear. I could hear her cry. “You cheated on me rascal. I will never forgive you for that.” she was my girlfriend . This was the last thing she said to me. I could see her now hanging from the ceiling fan. I was feeling terrified. I started running towards my drawing room. There I saw her. She was my mother. But how could this happen. She’s dead. She’s looking at me blankly. “I have told you not to come back to this house ? Then what are you doing here?” She said and disappeared.
I started running away and reached terrace. There was no one there. I felt relaxed. Then I heard people shouting. Behind me i could see a huge crowd ready to grab my neck and beat me till death. I could remember some faces but mostly were unknown to me. I started running ………

FRAUD COMPANY’S CEO FOUND DEAD, SUICIDE. This was the heading of local newspaper next morning.