"Slumdog, which cost only $15 million (£8.7 million) to make, has already gone on to take $160 million (£117 million) at the box office worldwide and could double this sum after last night’s haul of eight Oscars, including Best Picture. It is likely to go on earning millions of dollars a year for decades to come, thanks to DVD sales, TV licensing, and revenues from internet streaming. "
- taken from times online
the movie in itself might be debatable( many indians, which includes me, disliked the way it pictured india) but ... profits speak the loudest !
did not like the film , but i am happy , even elated that it wom 8 oscars !! yay!!
here's an amazing review of the same..
this and that !
There's not enough hours in the day;
To say all that I want to say,
There's not enough days in the week;
And weeks go by quicker than drunks knock back liquor,
There's not enough weeks in the month;
To do all that needs to be done,
There's not enough months in the year;
And years disappear like the bubbles in my beer.
from Timestretched by The Divine Comedy
oh, yeah this on shelfari... after a loooong break i am again active on shelfari..glad , i'm back!
animal farm ..
“What makes animal farm a great master-piece is the UNIQUE "belief in the suspension of your disbelief", if you know what i mean ...
The bizzare idea of animals taking over the farm ,even taking for that matter (a fable it is .. true)
but, suddenly it all seems so meaningful, so close to reality when i see what's happening today in the world around us, in the parliament , in the U.N. and else where and i find myself mummering ...
"everybody is equal but some are more equal".
It IS one of the best satirical literature we have (yet)... i think it even dwarfs the efforts of Joseph Heller in "catch 22" (to an extent ).
George Orwell is the real napoleon ... he plays with our minds, brilliantly , and in doing so, sits back and mocks the very society he's a part of...
..but, we still we love him... don't we?
read my mind...
I know it in the way you never will...and i better get round to describing it to you .
the innate desire to free myself from the chains that tie me down , "the narrow domestic walls " (as Tagore wud say)
and at other times , listen(and contemplate) to that the perpetual din , which i keep ignoring , that which tells me to recognise myself with someone like me , to tie myself up with them .
in a bit .. when everything seems obscure , no definitions fit ,
in that search/delimma/confusion/perplexity..when no effable word can be produced
nobody else but me knows , what it is.