Lady Hawk - The Flawed Protector of Easttown

Kate Winslet as Mare Sheehan in 'Mare of Easttown' gives us the perfect portrayal of middle aged woman that we have been wanting for so long. Instead of giving us the sexualized, all perfect, extremely talented and beautiful typical heroine, we have Mare who is shown as a normal human being, flawed, at times selfish, unglamorous with a bulgy belly.

As humans, we are not perfect, we are flawed at certain ways. Similarly Mare do not have a perfect relationship with everyone around her. She doesn't try to work on it just in the fear of facing it. We listen people constantly reminding us "to face our demons" , but that's not easy as heard. We all are afraid to the core of reliving all the past, the traumas, the unsaid words, the mistakes, the happy moments. Mare is one of us. It requires a lot of time and courage to face our fears after several failed confrontations like Mare. She is expected by everyone to fulfill her duties as a mother, daughter,wife and friend. But she fails in everything. She deviates from all her fears and flaws and hides behind the badge of the detective and works until the case is solved.

We are all selfish at certain levels, there maybe selfless people, but majority of us act selfishly sometimes. Mare is someone just like us who does things for her selfish needs. Sometimes we may feel angry at Mare for not being a righteous heroine of the mainstream movies, but when the show ends we realise the fact that Mare is a normal woman just like many of us. Every time people expect her to be perfect and everytime she screws up. Her unprocessed grief, her frustrations, coldness towards others emotions - everything just dismantles the concept of the perfect heroine we usually get. Through the perfect portrayal of Mare Sheehan, a physically and mentally weak middle-aged detective, Kate Winslet says loudly to the world that " Doing something great is overrated. 'Cause then people expect that from you all the time. What they don't realize is that you're just as screwed up as they are "

Comments

SHE

She was a girl of little importance.. She was not a damsel or a princess. But there was fire in her eyes. The fire of determination. Fire of dreams to be fullfilled. She never saw it ,but others did. But others never understood it ,but she did. She always dreamt of her future prince. Her shining eyes and glossy lips always waited for the arrival of her prince. One day. She met her prince,the charming one who came on white horse, she believed destiny made them meet, And she prayed let the same destiny unite them!! Days passed. Everyday she saw him. But she was afraid to come out of her shell. Another day. As she walked, he came. He walked towards her. she paused. As he reached closer her heart wrenched from its seat. And now there is no distance between them. He smiled and reached for her lips. she closed her eyes. They kissed. It was deep. He looked at her. She tried to be normal.. But there was nothing normal around her .

THE DREAMCATCHER ( A Poem)

She tried. And made the hoops from willows to wove those magical webs. Wrapped the hoop with suede lacing. The string was woven onto the hoop. Hours passed. She wove some of her favourite decorations to it. Feathers and gemstones, hidden with meanings. Hours passed. But she wanted it to be perfect. And finally, here it is. THE DREAMCATCHER. She hung it on her bedroom wall and watched it carefully. Rubbed it with an artist's pride. The hoop smiled, ensuring the travel of sun through the mighty sky. She thought that when night comes the hole in the center would only let Bawedjige( good dreams)pass. She would be able to sleep safe and sound today. The nightmares will never ever haunt her. For she has her Dreamcatcher. And Bawedjigewin( bad dreams) will be trapped in the web, to be dispelled at the first light of morning. She slept. The sun rays pierced into her eyes. She opened her eyes with the innocence of a newborn babe. The thought stroke her. She

The Grendels

Horror is lurking behind every moment of darkness, Seeming to be human, we cannot distinguish you from Grendel. We see no Beowulfs coming to rip off your arms that aid you well. When every closed door warns us, Every stare seems to map our bodies, Every vehicle appears to follow us, Every touch seems to warn us, You, cultured and well behaved, You are the light of the day, You are the Lord of the people, Who metamorphose into damned dangers At the end of the day. Your venomous fangs go in search of Prey, You wait in the darkness with twinkling eyes, Admiring the power of your hands, That can open up hearts, And show the uncultured your worth. After every hunting, the sycophants who surround you, Kiss your hands and touch your feet. They wash your dirt and make your bed. They cure your sickness by gifting you scepters. Making you invisible, they uproot every Beowulfs to ensure your reign. Thus you flourish, never to die but to hunt and haunt. And behind your house, we see a pile of d

THE FORGOTTEN STORIES

Search This Blog