Sunday, May 23, 2004
Dirty Pretty Things turned out to be a movie that completely blew my mind. I wouldn't characterize it as a thriller or a drama rather an honest story of the existing underbelly of London, England. It is a tale that depicts illegal immigrant's struggle to survive in a new and supposed advanced country. I felt many times that the players were living like people in the book "A Fine Balance", by Rohinton Mistry. There is a portion of the book that describes two characters sleeping in front of a train station stall for numerable consecutive nights. Considering their situation, being run out of their rental slum into the desolation of the street, they appear happy to have a spot to land after a hard day's work. It is something they are grateful for.
In Dirty Pretty Things, I wondered how the city of London could be the same as India. Isn't London a place of beauty and culture? Sure. Underneath it all, the people exist in the society by driving cabs, cleaning hotel rooms and prostituting themselves for whatever it takes to make a 'fresh start'. These people are before us, in Canada, somewhere among us.
In my Starbucks days, I often wondered who I was giving the coffee cup to. The hands that distribute one coffee cup to another can tell a lot of stories. Are the hands before me that of a surgeon, a soldier, a guitarist, a mill worker, a mortician or a mobster? It is an interesting thought to get lost in.
I had a wonderful fleeting thought while I was sitting on a cramped, stinky old school bus en route from Anjuna market to Benaulim (in Goa, India). Who would have predicted that at this very moment I would be sitting in this spot on this bus going from A to B? I wish someone I know could have a peek into this moment of my life to see me on this seat, wind in my dirty hair, smiling smugly, gleeful of my find at the market. How many people have sat in this seat before me?
Anyway, the long-winded point is that at any moment in our lives, most likely more often than not, we can be so close to a person that is in a disastrous and frightening situation, or alternately a positively exhilarating one. Take a moment to look around, watch rather than judge. I wonder how many mind-boggling and dynamic conversations with complete strangers I have missed out on because I decided not to look.
For a great review on Dirty Pretty Things.
In Dirty Pretty Things, I wondered how the city of London could be the same as India. Isn't London a place of beauty and culture? Sure. Underneath it all, the people exist in the society by driving cabs, cleaning hotel rooms and prostituting themselves for whatever it takes to make a 'fresh start'. These people are before us, in Canada, somewhere among us.
In my Starbucks days, I often wondered who I was giving the coffee cup to. The hands that distribute one coffee cup to another can tell a lot of stories. Are the hands before me that of a surgeon, a soldier, a guitarist, a mill worker, a mortician or a mobster? It is an interesting thought to get lost in.
I had a wonderful fleeting thought while I was sitting on a cramped, stinky old school bus en route from Anjuna market to Benaulim (in Goa, India). Who would have predicted that at this very moment I would be sitting in this spot on this bus going from A to B? I wish someone I know could have a peek into this moment of my life to see me on this seat, wind in my dirty hair, smiling smugly, gleeful of my find at the market. How many people have sat in this seat before me?
Anyway, the long-winded point is that at any moment in our lives, most likely more often than not, we can be so close to a person that is in a disastrous and frightening situation, or alternately a positively exhilarating one. Take a moment to look around, watch rather than judge. I wonder how many mind-boggling and dynamic conversations with complete strangers I have missed out on because I decided not to look.
For a great review on Dirty Pretty Things.
