The Village

The Village

The more I watch Syamalan’s Signs, the more I feel like being creative. He’s created a total niche for himself in the film industry with his pregnant silences between lines, wide shots prolonged, making you feel like popping your head through the screen and turning that door knob and going through the door yourself. The music builds up at just the right time, making a scene of a plain farm house with a dog out front represent so much more than…...what it is. A lavish meal in the middle of a UFO crisis seems like the normal thing to do. Syamalan’s a movie-making genius.
Having come to that conclusion, I’m somehow reminded of a particular scene that happened more than a year ago. We were all converging once more on the holy campus of UTM Skudai to for the convocation of the 2003/2004 graduates. Fakrul had just arrived that morning, if memory serves right, and Kak Ila joined us for the customary movie at CS. We saw Syamalan’s The Village. For some reason it didn’t impress me to the extent that it did Fakrul and Kak Ila. For a pragmatist and realist like me, the movie had too many loopholes to qualify as spellbinding. We had a somewhat friendly ‘discussion’ about it in the car, the usual dissecting of particular scenes and analysis, the plot, characters, etc. Fakrul proclaimed the movie to be the best of Syamalan’s work thus far and Kak Ila agreed, to some extent. I disagreed. Fakrul got somewhat emotional about that, upset that The Village wasn’t perfect in everyone’s mind. I got a little pissed that I was supposed to agree that it is, otherwise I’m not up to standard with everybody else. I don’t remember Kak Ila saying much but we all got quite for a moment after that and changed the topic.
I’m not writing about this out of spite, but rather out of amusement. Seeing how obsessive people get over something as menial as a movie amuses me. To all parties involved, feel free to contribute and correct me where I might have erred. I’m sure we’ve all grown and matured enough to be able to laugh at this little insignificant incident. Go ahead, have a laugh. I sure did.

requiem for my daytime illusory

requiem for my daytime illusory

I leaned back and found the shoulder

shut my eyes and sleep came easy

had my arms wrapped around my torso

breathed an easy sigh

what a cosy little picture we were, here,now

my head rolled sideways and a hand came up to steady it

my self slumbered east, my vision hovered above

intently absorbing all this unwarranted kindness

did I deserve it?

others started leaving, the place emptied

but we stayed

I slept till daylight visited

this bliss seemed go on forever

but i awoke up to my empty room

once again.

naturally.

Tassie Trip Trappings

Tassie Trip

Went to Tassie!! The flight was aweful and the rain at touchdown wasn't exactly the welcome I was expecting, but things were pretty much smooth-sailing right after they picked me up from the airport. The first thing to grab my attention was the cold. The winds reached in and grabbed my lungs the way Brisabane's winter never could. The other thing I noticed was the town. Launceston is what Brisbane would have been if the scale was shrunk down to a fifth it's original size. The pace was completely laid-back, cars were few and buses even fewer. The fact that the girls were able to find a massive bungalow house in a fully residential area for less than $200 a week says it all. Wish life was that inexpensive here in Brissy. Shop attendants remembered us shopping the day before, remembered the bag I bought but came to exchange, remembered the one I was agonizing over whether or not to buy. Little cafes dotted every block and bakeries were abundant. I guess they are somewhat of a neccessity for a hide-out whenever the cold gets out of hand. It was spring, I was shivering beneath Echa's parka, and she tells me this is probably as hot as it gets. Winter averages between eight and nine degrees celcius. I would have stared at her with my mouth gaping, except that it was so cold so my teeth was chattering and the incredilous look on my face was lost on her. Darn this cold...

Amy

For a moment I forgot about my excitement and anxiety. The flight there was bad, the passengers next to me made it worse. My head started swimming and my throat started pushing down bile. The book I was reading suddenly held no appeal to me whatsoever. The headache I was having made sure I couldn't keep reading anyway. I find myself checking the time precisely every five minutes. I just wished there was a fast-forward button I could push. The couple next to me calls on the flight attendant for maybe the thousandth time, and she appears with the every-ready smile and perkiness that was too pleasant to be true. Another shudder, another tremor, the plane goes through another air-pocket. I turn the overhead light off and try to get some shut-eye. The drinks arrived the smell of alcohol made want to puke my gutts out all over the seat, just for the sake of passing time. I shut my eyes and drifted between wakefulness and a dreamless sleep. A bump, I jolted awake to the pilot's announcement of touch down in fifteen minutes. Thank God. I took my time getting to my feet, shouldering my bags, walk down the aisle, out the door and into the rain. Perfect. Rain drops pelted me sideways and I pulled my coat tighter against the cold wind. My face was drenched in seconds. I stepped through the glass doors, looking for waving hands. Someone grabbed me from my right and there she was. The terminal was so small that people could actually welcome arrivals right there in the tarmac. The irony of it didn't escape me. Before I could say a word she'd already engulfed my i a hug longer than I would usually stand for. And yet I felt at home, finally with someone I can let my guards down completely. We stood there hugging each other and I realized it's been almost a year since we last saw each other. I hugged her back and it all seemed worth it. I'm finally here. With my bestest friend in the world.