Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Lincoln- 2012
It is not the moment of history being written- when the US
House of Representatives passed the 13th amendment to its constitution,
abolishing slavery- and forthcoming jubilations in the street that capsize your
heartbeat in the film, but the radical republican representative, Thaddeus
Stevens’ walking out of the house with the original document from the Speaker, fresh with its winning verdict, straight to his widowed, colored housekeeper Lydia Hamilton Smith that is the most touching moment in the film. "This is for you" he says, upon entering his home, when all other supporting citizens run out jubilant and in chorus into the streets to rejoice. She is the first colored woman to ever hold the document in her hands and read out from it to him, her master of the house and lover. In my opinion, Stevens' silent, yet radical reaction to the emancipation of blacks and their slavery is enough to show what this freedom means to him- it is certainly much more than it meant to Lincoln himself...
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Art of resistance
People's resistance in the face of the country's diminishing democracy has become an art. This comes into being when the law and judiciary, international verdicts (latest being UN Human Right's Commissioner Navy Pillai's accusations) and suppositions and propositions to better the rule is unheard of by the regime. As a result, resistance is developed in various ways, and in creative forms- the latest in the sense of 'Davy Jones' who claims he is attacking Sri Lankan websites because he believes the country's government is corrupt. Having already breached several leading government websites in the past, the latest is the crack into the Sri Lanka High Commission of the Maldives' website...the art of resistance.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
The Artist
There he was,
seated on the side-walk bunt,
sketching off
cards with a pen,
while thousands
walked by.
The side-walk
bunt with its groomed flowers,
made an
impressive background for the tall, lean figure
seated at ease,
with one leg crossed over the other.
Drawn by this
unusual charisma,
I approached him
and found some beautiful canvas
neatly laid out for
sale.
Wish I had the
money to buy them all!
Each one
distinctively individual,
yet bearing the
same tone of line, woman, flower and window…
Being so
thoughtful, he had secured each piece
on
bristle-board, for the buyer’s convenience.
I bought one masterpiece-
three araliya flowers, amidst a bunch of
leaves,
a dark woman in
veil and two pictures within the picture,
all
magnificently captured to bring out an araliya
bride;
my mind’s
imagination…
How ironical-
to sit in front
of the mega departmental store,
in an almost
frozen still,
making a
complete contrast to the crowd bustling in and out of its doors.
Many an eye
noticed him, but many ignored or were too busy to bother.
Inclined to art
myself, my curiosity could hold no more,
and I had to but
ask why he would not sell his work to some handicraft store.
Sitting in the midday sun,
like a
weather-proof wall,
bearing the
temper tantrums of the sun,
he certainly
deserved more.
Upon falling
into chat, he rose to his feet,
and my heart
grieved even more,
to see the
remarkable resemblance in figure and tone,
to one professor
I knew long before…
Thousands of
questions, thousands of answers,
and thousand
things other makes me ponder,
while gazing at
the picture now hanging on my bedroom wall.
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