Revolutionary Road ( a review)

(Written on June 6, 2018)

Happened to watch the 2008 British American romantic drama Revolutionary Road directed by Sam Mendes.The realistic story of the lunatic couple April and Frank smitten by the unrealistic American Dream, which toppled their lives at a more ironic place called revolutionary road. A brilliant movie adaptation of Richard Yates's novel of same name 'Revolutionary Road' heightened by the unquestionable acting skills of Hollywood's classic couple, DiCaprio and Kate Winslet and of course by the character played by Michael Shannon.REVOLUTIONARY ROAD - the story of unaccomplished ambitions, the unsuccessful attempt to escape 'the hopeless emptiness' of life ,the stifling routine life, the crumbling relationships , losing minds and most importantly the American Dream of better and richer life. As April says, "If you don't try at anything, you can't fail...It takes backbone to lead the life you want". Yes , it always requires a backbone to lead the life you want and I must say this is a handsomely done realistic movie that would take you to the slow devastation of the life of Wheelers.

A.C

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Shuli’s Love

Shuli washed her hair twice that day. One for her love to cleanse all impurities of reality and one for herself. She took a nap twice that day. One for love that took her melatonin, And another to forget. Shuli laughed twice that day. One on behalf of her tainted Love, And another on her botched brain cells. She cried a quarter that day. Half a quarter filled with anger, and the other half with shame. She danced twice that day, One for lost time on love, And another for her love for dance. Shuli wrote twice that day, One for her heart and Other for her brain. She gave two hugs that day, One for her wet pillow And another for herself. Shuli played hostess twice that day, One for her pain and the last for her sanity.

Little Poem

My procrastination ends here, While the urge to write chokes my throat, My hands get paralysed as in a trance, I find excuses to write a little poem, I make up a lonely man, a distressed woman, a lovers’ quarrel, an unrequited love, But they are reluctant to play the part, Maybe i should give them a raise, Or throw a party at midnight, Maybe a few drinks might work, Only if they don’t puke. I can expect a little vandalism, Some damage to the property and a mini scandal, Possibly out of rage. But at the end when I bring my weapons, Sometimes they get scared and back off, Some may never come back, Others find it funny and mock at me, And opportunists, seeing my desperation, Attacks me with manipulation. And all these while, my three panic attacks talk to me in a different language, I try to write a little poem With a racing heart and flowing eyes, I write my little poem, tortured and broken, I end my little poem, Like a mighty warrior, Who had a pyrrhic victory.

Madeline’s Mirror

Madeline’s mirror told her she’s fat, It appalled at her shapeless dress, Covering a chunk of flesh. She looked at her broad shoulders And big breasts, which reminded her of a pile of clothes that no longer fits her. But Madeline smiled and applied her eyeliner effortlessly. Her mirror sneered at her chafing thighs kissing each other when she moves. Madeline’s mirror found her plush lips contradicting the pair of flesh on either side of it. It spotted the two chins fighting for space like contestants in the combat zone. Madeline admired her freckleless skin, and applied her favourite lipstick. The mirror reflected her flabby arms complementing her saggy belly. Madeline moved closer to her mirror, which still in oblivion, started to produce sympathetic smiles at her legs. It mirrored how her legs carry all the weight, hiding under her flowy dress. Appreciating her silky hair and perfectly manicured...

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