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Movie Review

Movie: Lady Bird Director: Greta Gerwig Rating: 4/5

In one phrase, Lady Bird feels like a mix of Call Me by Your Name, The Breakfast Club, and Moxie, and yet, somehow, none of these films can truly define it. Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird is an incredibly original coming-of-age story, and one that I can see myself remembering for years to come. For many, it might be the perfect young adult film: messy, emotional, funny, and painfully relatable.

Lady Bird follows Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson, a high school senior navigating friendships, relationships, family, identity, and her dreams for the future in Sacramento. She comes from one of the few financially struggling families in an otherwise affluent community, which becomes an important part of how she sees herself and the world around her. Throughout her final year of high school, Lady Bird desperately dreams of leaving Sacramento and building a life somewhere else. What makes this especially interesting, however, is her complicated relationship with the city itself. She claims to want nothing more than to escape, yet she is deeply attached to the place she calls home. This contradiction captures one of the film’s central themes: the strange feeling of simultaneously loving and resenting where you come from.

Saoirse Ronan’s performance as Lady Bird is one of the film’s biggest strengths. Drawing some parallels to her role in Little Women, Ronan perfectly captures the impulsiveness, confidence, insecurity, and rebelliousness of a teenage girl trying to figure herself out. Her chemistry with Laurie Metcalf, who plays her mother, feels especially authentic. Their relationship is full of arguments, misunderstandings, and hurtful comments, but beneath all of it is an unmistakable sense of love. Metcalf plays the frustrated and often overbearing mother brilliantly, making it clear that her harshness comes from a complicated mixture of concern, financial stress, and love for her daughter.

Beanie Feldstein, as Lady Bird’s best friend Julie, is another standout. Julie never feels like a simple supporting character. Her friendship with Lady Bird feels genuine precisely because it is imperfect; there is jealousy, distance, hurt, and eventually reconciliation. Their relationship is one of the film’s most emotionally effective portrayals of teenage friendship.

Visually, the film embraces many of the familiar elements of a coming-of-age movie, from high school hallways to suburban neighborhoods and school events. Yet Gerwig uses these familiar settings to create something that feels deeply personal and grounded. The one area where I felt the film had more potential was its soundtrack. While the songs fit the overall atmosphere, I think some choices could have been more intentional in reflecting Lady Bird’s emotional state or emphasizing particular moments in the story.

Overall, I really enjoyed Lady Bird. It is a film that captures the awkwardness, excitement, insecurity, and tenderness of growing up without trying to make adolescence look perfect. What makes it especially compelling is its portrayal of the messy relationship between mothers and daughters and of how love can coexist with resentment, frustration, and misunderstanding. Lady Bird is far from perfect, and that is exactly what makes her feel real.

I would especially recommend this film to teenage girls, or honestly, anyone who has ever felt desperate to leave home while simultaneously being afraid of what leaving it might mean. Lady Bird beautifully captures the imperfections of growing up and the complicated process of becoming your own person.

#movies #review #lady bird #feminism #young adult #coming of age #beauty #life #high school

Warning Sign

i’m like a pack of cigarettes

i warn you from the beginning that i’ll destroy you on the inside

that i’ll hurt as good as poison

that you’ll get addicted to me, and i’ll break your heart

i warn you to let me go, and yet you crave me like a bad habit

i’ll coat your lungs with black tar, and still you’ll ache for one more moment

i’ll tell you to live wilder live harder liver stronger but i’ll only make your life shorter

i’m not a fine wine or the water that keeps you alive

i’m the cigarette that kills you inside

A lonely word

i’m most lonely when i’m most loved

most loved by people i don’t know HOW to love back

most alone yet the most surrounded

the highest but the most grounded

when loved is when i stop

loving me, him, her, them

because the word love is the loneliest word to exist

always desired yet never appreciated

always craved yet never enough

always given but never received

always received but never felt

always felt and always held back

loved once but hated forever

For the First Time

I learnt how to cycle today.

For the first time, at age 17, I cruised and sped and shakily turned the hard plastic handles, and felt more joy than I can remember ever having felt.

It was my father who taught me, to stop pedalling and slowly make a left, to control a speed that I felt unleash from my chest.

I was fearful every second, not of falling but of disappointing. But I pedalled and pedalled, and slowly, I didn’t want to stop.

It felt like the end of something, and the beginning of something new.

It was something that should probably have begun when I was 7, ten years ago; but something is better than nothing, right?

Because I got over a fear today, and learnt a good thing from my father.

Now I have, in my heart, at least one thing that he taught me that I’ll want to have learnt.

Something that symbolises an opening in my heart, and in his,

a relationship I thought had ceased to exist.

So yes, I learnt how to cycle today, at 17 years old.

And it could be one of the happiest things I ever did.

A Cinderella Story!

Everyone who’s ever given an audition, interview, or even test knows never to expect anything. I mean, isn’t it always easier to assume the worst so you won’t feel the wave of disappointment when you don’t succeed. Well, that is exactly how I approached my audition for the school musical this winter. With little to no expectation or preparation, I entered the infamous drama room and came out of it the exact same person – if a little more traumatized. My performance during the audition wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it was certainly not the greatest. I ran through my lines and nervously sang the song, avoiding all eye contact with my teachers. Safe to say, I was not expecting a callback. I was pleasantly surprised to receive an email the same day requesting me and a few of my peers to return for a second audition.

Two auditions became three, and it was finally time for the roles to be announced. After a lengthy process of animated songs and chemistry reads, I had lost all hope of landing the part I dreamed to play: Evil-stepmother Vivian. It shook me to the core when I saw my name next to the character Cinderella. I rubbed my eyes and looked again; it was surely a mistake. It took me a few moments to digest the fact – I was Cinderella! I had auditioned for the role of the stepmother, assuming it would be impossible for me to play the main character, not realizing the incredible opportunity that awaited me.

Soon the rigorous rehearsals began, and I never felt more at home. I would wake up early in the morning to reach on time for practices before school and stay back to rehearse after school, and yet when I finally got home, I’d want to go back. The two months I spent preparing for the role were times I truly felt fulfilled and content. I built unbreakable bonds with my fellow cast members and strengthened my relationship with my teachers.

The last few days before the main show were stressful and almost nauseating. I had never played such a crucial role before, and I was terrified. I started to question why I was even given the chance to play Cinderella, but the support of the people around me gave me the nudge I needed to break out of my shell. The show wasn’t without mistakes, but it was ours and we did our best to make it a success. The praises and claps of the audience warmed my heart and gave me the confidence to let go of my inhibitions. Being a part of the school musical will always be the most impactful and precious experience of my life, shaping my relationship with theatre and its community. I will undoubtedly cherish my memories as Cinderella and encourage anyone who thinks they aren't good enough to simply try; it might just change your life.

Happiness.

Happiness was a stranger to me, until today.

It was embodied by a boy.

A sick, but recovering birthday boy.

I can vividly picture the look on his face. When we moved away that curtain and revealed a myriad of balloons.

A bold happy birthday sign was seen on both sides of the glass.

A cake that brought him so much joy, it was more valuable than gold.

People bustling on one side of the barrier, the boy on the other, with his cake and his mother.

There was singing and eating. Oh, so much eating.

But mainly there were smiles that shone through our eyes.

There was joy that poured out of our souls.

It didn't matter if it was small, or short, or within hospital halls.

It didn't matter that he was on a bed, and that his father was blocked by the wall.

All that mattered was that there was happiness and love.

An emotion that was so true and whole that the lubs and the dubs disappeared.

That was when I realised why they do it.

Every single day they see these children and they treat these children.

Sometimes they lose these children, and sometimes they simply say goodbye.

But the moments with these children that make you smile, the ones that make you cry, the ones that show you the real meaning of life.

These moments are what make you stay.

And I may not be here again and I may not feel it again, but I will never forget the first time happiness came to me.

Book review!

Title: The Push

Author: Ashley Audrain

Genre: Psychological thriller

Rating: 4 stars

The Push is a novel about a woman named Blythe, who took up the responsibility of motherhood, despite being doubtful of her ability to nurture a child. As the years passed by and her daughter grew up, Blythe realized that her misgivings were justified. Generations of women in her family had treated their daughters in a despicable manner, though she didn’t expect to be the victim yet again. It was almost as if her daughter was born with distaste for her and vowed to play the role of villain, just like her predecessors.

This book was recommended to me by a friend who described it as the most twisted, breathtaking book she’d ever read. Although I was apprehensive at first, her relentless attempts at convincing me seemed to have succeeded. I think it’s safe to say that she was right.

Right from the start, I was intrigued by the stories of the characters. The author wrote from three different perspectives: Blythe’s, her mother’s, and her grandmother’s. Each of them had unique yet connected experiences in their lives. Though I was puzzled at the beginning of the book, I eventually connected all the dots and was flabbergasted.

Unlike every other novel I’ve read, I didn’t have a favourite character. In fact, I felt a great distaste for most of them. Nevertheless, the individuality and twists of the characters kept me hooked.

Overall, the novel signified the negative aspects of motherhood, ones that people rarely talk about and often hide. It showed me that not all relationships are perfect and sometimes there is no remedy. It also made me question whether people are born evil or become that way due to circumstances that cannot be prevented. I would definitely recommend you all to read the novel and share your thoughts on it.

#book review #book recommendations

The colours must combine

Why is there a good and why is there an evil?

Why is there always a black and a white?

Why does this world crave upheaval?

When the regular too, has a bite.

Are we born to sin or succeed?

Maybe the two lines must cross,

Why do we only praise a good deed?

When wickedness is the lone Closs.

Is there grey, that combines the two?

Or are we born colourblind?

There must be something we can do,

To see the two hues entwined.

Good would cease to exist,

If evil hadn’t touched the shell,

So, will they together just persist?

Or will the bad go to hell?

There may not be a good or bad,

Just two different horses on the carousel,

On the same ride, they both end up sad,

Their only solution is to mell.

'The nerves of performance'

The stage was set; the orchestra was in place; the props and costumes were spot-on, but I wasn’t ready. I could feel my heart trying to pry its way out of my chest; it was beating hard enough to sound like a drum. A single droplet of sweat slowly travelled down my forehead, and I had no way of wiping it off without ruining the hours of effort put in by all the makeup artists. I mentally counted the number of seconds I had to make my escape before the curtains flew open. Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight… If this was a normal theater show, like the hundreds I had led, it would have been a walk in the park; but Broadway has never and will never be child’s play. I always imagined myself on that stage, performing with no fear and inhibitions; that felt like a storybook now. I didn’t know whether I wanted my head to be full of dialogues, or to stop working altogether. Before I could do anything about my deathless nerves, the lights turned on; moreover, the single spotlight focused on me shone brightly. Without a moment’s pause, every line poured out of my mouth at every exact beat; flawlessly. I had wholly forgotten about any inch of dismay I was under; it was Broadway after all.

‘The scars that never fade’

This is a piece of work on the fictional incident of a crash between a driver’s car and an occupied ambulance.

“Drip, drip, drip”. I could hear the diminishing splash of raindrops, or was it the reverberating sound of the blood that was lost? The on-beat drops of scarlet that fell from the man, like music playing through a leaking tap. They fell, and fell, and fell until there was only air left. The air of darkness, and misery, and regret, all around the soundless street. In the beginning, there was the siren, constantly wailing; then the crash, like a nuclear explosion; the wails of people around lasted much longer than the despairing tune of the flatline; but now there was nothing. I could hear the crisp movement of the wind, but not a single person around me could utter a word. All eyes stared at the body, the corpse. I wished he was a criminal; that he had stolen an old lady’s purse and kicked away a street dog; I wished he committed fraud and hot-wired cars. I wished for anything that made it less cruel. That there was a reason for a man in an ambulance dying from a car crash; that it was only a matter of justice. But I couldn’t believe that; I couldn’t make it up because in my head I knew it was no one else’s fault but mine. I was the reason there were splatters of blood on my face, covering my eyelids and making them heavier than they already were. I was the reason there was an oozing cut on my forehead from hitting the windshield in front of me. I was the reason the ambulance collapsed, and now a man’s life was gone. He may not have survived the day, either way, considering all the tubes he was hooked to, but I made it undeniable. I tampered with the balance of the earth, and no matter how many scars formed on my skin, but the one on my conscience and in my heart would never fade away, of that I was certain.

Festivities!!

You see the twinkling lights, like bright stars captivating your eyes. The vibrant colours form art all around; you see the mighty reds and the majestic blues, the lime greens, and the royal dark purples. The clamorous crowds with a mission on their visage, and the overflowing shopping bags on every person’s arm. You hear the deafening firecrackers with a story to tell, and the cackling children, joyful at their success. You smell the warm, home-like sweets, sizzling in ghee, with the saccharinity of a grandmother and the remembrance of family. You greet strangers like friends and glisten like snow melting under the sunshine. Not because of a festival or tradition, but the joy that’s given out. That’s the beauty of people and the feelings they arouse, of happiness and love and laughter in every house. The new friendships and old reconciliations under the flickering fairy lights and the moon that shines devilishly bright. It’s the time of the year when all is forgotten, and the festive spirit infiltrates the air. It’s when dias and candles and exuberance all surround the lively atmosphere of people that care. Happy Diwali!!!

BOOK REVIEW!!!

I adore reading books and this was the first one I read that made me want more. It is one of the few books that touched me so deeply. Here’s what I think of it!

Title: Looking For Alaska

Author: John Green

Genre: Young Adult Fiction

Rating: 5 stars

Looking for Alaska is a novel about a lonely boy named Miles going to a boarding school where he finds friends he yearned for all his life. He attempts to reinvent himself in his new school with new friends and new activities. He’s surprised at how easily he gives a piece of himself to his new friends, who are so different yet similar to him. The entire book talks about his journey of friendship, mischief, love, grief, and mainly about discovering how to end the labyrinth of suffering. Each character leads towards different solutions, some ending it and some living in their pain.

I remember picking this book up at the library, expecting it to be about a traveller trying to find the country, Alaska. Imagine my surprise, when about twenty pages in I realized that wasn’t the case at all and just thought, “Oh, well Alaska is a pretty weird name for a girl”. Though I definitely was not disappointed with the outcome.

Right off the bat, I was pulled in by Green’s clever start to chapters. ‘One hundred and thirty-six days before’, commenced the story and created an air of mystery and curiosity as to what was going to happen. The question of ‘before what?’ made it almost impossible for me to put the book down. The way John Green built the characters was also something that made me fall in love with this book. None of the characters had picture-perfect lives, but I think that is what gave their stories meaning. Each of them had a unique trait that gave them a certain charisma. From Miles's obsession with last words to Colonel’s geographic memory, one thing they all had in common was ‘not fitting in’. This, I think is what makes the book relatable to teenagers universally.

My favourite character (and I know it might be a cliché) is Alaska. She was the one person who I struggled to figure out and yet admired. From the beginning towards the end of the book, Alaska was a mystery, but still the most significant and excitable character. There was one quote that resonated with her so thoroughly and beautifully, that it will stay in my memory forever. “If people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.” She definitely was.

Overall, I found that the novel perfectly reflected the unbreakable bonds between these intricately woven personalities and showed the balance of their school lives. Personally, it made me want to experience boarding school, but I moreover felt grateful for the family and resources that I have. This book was also the first of many that caused me to bawl my eyes out at the ending. I would absolutely recommend it to every young adult out there and would love to know your thoughts on it.

Welcome

I’m a writer. At least that's what I'm trying to be.

Sometimes sad, sometimes bittersweet, sometimes observant, sometimes glib.

'Discovery'...

I opened my eyes and saw the sun

Shining bright with a yellow hue

Maybe an orange simply undone

The blue sky it flew into

I closed my eyes and saw the stars

Twinkling around the twilight so dark

They seem to me like miles afar

Yet never lose their infinite spark

I blink and the world moved around

It looks wholly upside down

Not grim and scary, just peculiar

Like a hidden treasure meant to be found

I see the clouds that dance in white

Like a bride oh so full of delight

The sky like a lonely canvas

Still always such a pretty sight

I walk a step right and two steps left

A game of life, left so confound

Yet joy never remains bereft

The laughs of the journey unfinished resound.

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