skullknight96

Shyam Benegal’s Mammo: A Tender Tale of Loss and Longing: As I turned on my laptop to make use of my idle time I played this randomly recommended film from my insta algorithm (well it did something good for once). I played Mammo, Shyam Benegal 1994 forgotten masterpiece. Some stories haunt the pages of histories, always floating, never fully put to rest, always on a journey with no destination in sight. Carried by winds, residing in hearts for their home was now a distant memory living only in the hearts of those who once lived it. Mammo is such story. On the surface, Mammo tells the story of Mehmooda Begum urf Mammo, an elderly woman who come to India from Lahore to her sister, Fayazzi and grandson, Riyaz. A woman who carries the past scars as open medals, her kindness like an open waterfall never dried. The law sees her as a criminal, a spy, an agent from the enemy land, yet she sees India as her own, the place she once called home. The film doesn't move; there are no loud court ...

Narratives in Noise: My Most Beloved Indie Concept Albums Some albums unfold themselves, revealing each new trick up their sleeves as you un-layer them. Today although my brain factory had prepared another blog, I scratched that idea because this is a catharsis release for me, and I will do whatever I like hehe. Back to the main topic, I cannot decide what twist and turns my life takes but what music will play behind those events is solely up to me. So here are my few favourite albums. Links are provided. Baptized in Blood and Reverb: Preacher's Daughter Thrumming of the strings, pungent drums, withered melodic mourning, all to cover the dark spiral of heartbreak, abuse and cannibalism, Ethel Cain's debut album is every bit haunting as it's magnetic. Centering around the eponymous character, the album is a lamentable account of girl trapped in the quicksand of manipulation, drugs and American dream. Taking spoons of indie rock, gothic, doom metal, Ethel brews one of the mos...

The Silence: The sheets dwelled peacefully upon the bed. The fan kept on twirling, your cereal laying on the table getting cooler waiting. Rays sneaking through the window, searching for the presence that this room once find so much similar. In its place it finds a husk with no soul. the reality of you after doing the thing you always wanted to do. The desolate silence that haunts every corner replacing the contemplative hush from the previous night. This trains comes in everyone mind when life does not take the turn they wanted. Faced with the failure of the distance, death of the loved ones, breakup (specified for us gen z because we are very dramatic when it comes to another person defining our worth) etc. We think that by obliging to this particular desire is freeing oneself from the cage of despondency not realizing that one is at the at the darkest valley of their life. I am no mental health expert, quite opposite to that I am a frequent visitor of this valley, on the smallest th...

She Left Bruises, Not Just Footprints: Women in Film Who Undid Me Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I am a huge cinephile. Film is my life, and I am the Poo of it. I have watched films across many genres; languages and they did shape my wacky sense of humor to my morals and direction in life. However, some of these have gone beyond the normal realm and have touched and altered the perspective of my soul. More of like a murderer taking place before your eyes an event you can never forget and one that alters your outlook on life forever. 🩸 1. The First Perpetrator: Meena Kumari as Chhoti Bahu in Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam The crime scene? A decaying haveli drenched in decadence. The first perpetrator of psychological damage? None other than the eternal queen of melancholy, Meena Kumari , in her magnum opus Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam . Here, she embodies Chhoti Bahu , the neglected wife of the younger son of a dying feudal dynasty. But calling her “wife” feels reductive—she is a walking ...

Death of a Dream: A Man's fragile ego So, for my next blog I thought of diving into the cupboards of my dumb memory and take you all on a nostalgia trip, but that train got derailed quickly as my eyes quickly fell upon the news of the death of the teenage influencer Sana Yousaf. Subsequently, I was thrown into a pressure cooker of wrath and fury because this isn't the first time something like this has happened.  Firstly, I would like to dedicate a poem for her Rest in soil O my daughter of Eve Away from the lustful gaze Lay your sovereignty wide For here there are no glass shieldings of honor Crawl freely for here there are no men to stop you from soaring I will not be including any pictures of her since she already is plastered all over social media and this is not a clickbait to attract views, and her family has probably suffered enough, and I don't want to add up to their distress. O Sana Yousaf you bright golden starlet, eyes filled with hope to reach beyond the limits...

 Are you Happy? Happiness, defined as the emotion at which the highest level of serotonin mostly characterized by when a person does something he enjoys. However, there is another definition of happiness which defines it by the burst of dopamine which is defined as a short burst of euphoria. So, what are you experiencing?    Most people in their mundane life mostly experiences the latter which you cannot define as happiness because you have to understand the nature of dopamine. Dopamine mostly comes at quick actions and is defined as a quick happiness hormone. it is mostly achieved by task which does not requires you to break your sweat such as in simple terms masturbation, chatting with your friends or partners (in modern era partners Hehe), and etc. The thing with this happiness is that it is short term but heavily detrimental to one's mental health often draining and causing severe exhaustion. Simultaneously it does lowers itself each time meaning you need to increase ...