Saturday, September 19, 2009

The Romantic America

I've discovered that I have a 'thing' for America of the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s; the houses, the scenery, the life. I also have a 'thing' for dramas.

This 'thing' was awakened after I saw Revolutionary Road and was strengthened after watching The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

Just had this burning desire to blog about the dialogues that I loved in Benjamin Button and in revolutionary road.

All dialogues are sourced from IMDB.

Benjamin Button

1) It's a funny thing about comin' home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You'll realize what's changed is you.

2) Benjamin, we're meant to lose the people we love. How else would we know how important they are to us?

3) You can be as mad as a mad dog at the way things went. You could swear, curse the fates, but when it comes to the end, you have to let go.

4) You never know what's comin' for ya.

5) Our lives are defined by opportunities, even the ones we miss.

6) Some people, were born to sit by a river. Some get struck by lightning. Some have an ear for music. Some are artists. Some swim. Some know buttons. Some know Shakespeare. Some are mothers. And some people, dance.

Revolutionary Road

1) You want to play house you got to have a job. You want to play nice house, very sweet house, you got to have a job you don't like.

2) Knowing what you've got, knowing what you need, knowing what you can do without - That's inventory control.

Sigh!! Somebody build me a time machine :-D

Saturday, September 12, 2009


Saw 9 @ PVR Mulund today. Cute, nice, cuddly, feel good movie :-). And the stitchpunks are something totally different.

Read the review by Wired here.

Friday, September 11, 2009


I encountered a chain snatching incident today. I was walking back from the bus stop to my apartment; had almost reached there, when a bike suddenly sped past me moving from the wrong side of the road to the right side. It was driven just the way the irritating punks drive.

To be honest, I didn't pay much attention. Suddenly there was some helpless squealing sound from behind. Initially I dismissed it as some puppies whining; but when it got louder, I turned back to see a lady running with her arms outstretched, screaming in Marathi.

The basic gist was that her mangalsutra had been lifted by the thieves. A crowd did gather, but it was too late; the thieves had a headstart of 2-3 minutes on a bike and were beyond capture.

One can only curse them that they pay for their misdeeds.