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I watched Dirty Dancing for the umpteenth time yesterday.. it counts as one of the most passionate movies in my catalog along with Mask of Zorro, Reality Bites, Autumn in New York, Enemy at the Gates.. I'm such a sucker for romantic movies! A coupla pretty people who can act, some beautifully-crafted dialogues, a boatful for mush, some tear-jerking moments and you have me. I didn't used to be so easy to twist... although they still got me before. I guess the reactions were in mental quips, while now they are woven into the image itself, in a purer way.

I can't tear my thoughts away from vulnerability. I see it in moments of insecurity, surrender, dependence and love. I find it incredibly endearing, I see beauty in it. I now let myself be vulnerable only when I have a shoulder I trust, but I'm very grateful that there are many of those. It is wonderful how talented a cinematographer the world can be in the images it gives me. Through movies, through stories I read about and hear about, through the pictures that ignite my own imagination.. I cherish those images, I hope I can hold on to them for a very long time.

It has been a little difficult to fall back to the person I am at home since I've got back from Bombay. The balance I've found outside home seems to translate to ennui around some things that I used to care about before. My parents too are having a hard time coming to terms with the way my thinking has changed over the past year. The good news still is that we're a talky family :) So after a grumpy day, there are bound to be a coupleof heart-to-hearts. They don't always result in perfect understanding, because any reference to the surprising fact that suddenly there are three adults in the room causes some awkwardness. I don't suppose it is easy for them to accept the fact that for most part of the day, I have got used to being by myself. My daily routine more often than not is dissociated from my family. As with any conversation dealing with relationships, it is difficult to find those first words. My intention always is to get them talking. I know that once in conversation, I will be able to make them see my point. Whether it makes them feel better or worse I don't worry about. I'm not the sweetest or the most giving daughter, but I'm glad I can take the inititative do clear the air and help the four of us (including Micku) to figure out new ways to laugh together.

'Since the last goodbye' by Alan Parson is my most favourite song at the moment. It all started at Pratty's penthouse trap and woozy music. Then I started to listen to the playlist with 'Ammonia Avenue', and then when it got to this song, it was like a bulb went on in my head! Anyway, its a lovely song. It makes me feel warm inside. Just like 'Old and wise'. Alan Parson is swell. So are spanish guitar strains. Oh dear. Here's to someday being a 50-ear old who watches 10 movies a day, bawls her eyes out every 5minuts, eats lots of ice cream and jogs for half an hour everyday to work off all the laziness. Actually, career shmareer. That doesn't sound half bad! :)