Taare Zameen Par- my review..

And Aamir does it again.

If you, even momentarily, made the grave mistake of assuming that this is a 'kids movie' designed for mere tiny tots, your chances of being correct are as optimistic as the same of Ricky Ponting sprouting a tail and going 'hee - haw' after winning the nxt WC. This movie actually should inspire picky parents and tiresome teachers- who just feel compelled to give the benefits of their non stop nagging to the children 'for whom it is a necessity',who are ceritifed to be 'lazy and crazy'- to talk and think sense! And yes, this sweet and sombre story insists energetically and imploringly: every child is special. Special. In his/her own special way.

Ok..the story is about a cute, naive, chubby child called Ishaan Awasthi who is proclaimed a 'loser' by his exasperated school authorities and busybee dad...considering the fact that he fails in every exam. Ishaan ends up in a boarding where he cries down his heart and misses his mom and bro to the extent of losing his interest in his only support- painting. Things don't improve here for the poor chap until- magically- there comes a saviour- a messiah- in the form of a new art teacher- you-know-who. and aamir- that's mr. ram nikoumb- traces down the intriguing sullen child's family, learns about his problems, troubleshoots and adds hues to Enu's (Ishaan's) life.

Darsheel Safary, who plays Ishaan, is superb...he lives the part on screen and compels you to reach for ur hankies. Aamir- as usual- acts to his own standards. But this time you get to witness his production and direction skills...which, like his acting, boast perfection.

The songs are touching and very well suited to the situtations. Lryics-mindblowing!

The paintings are all really cute....and all the graphics...even the fonts that bear credits and intros and stuff- grip your attention.

All in all- Taare Zameen Par is a must watch for all ages.....please go ahead and watch this masterstroke from Mr. Khan.

Death of deepest midnight shade

THE night was cool with a trivial breeze,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The tang of showers, scented flowers,
Oh, how he wished they would never cease!

He did not whimper, did not wail,
Forsaken by world, isolated as he lay,
nippy as stone, like a hushed tomb,
But he didn’t moan, did not even wail.

For he did not fear, was not frightened,
Even as his heart pumped fast, his breathes tightened,
Awaiting the enemy, the cruel, ruthless enemy,
Who’d be there any moment, but he wasn’t frightened.

For he knew there were three types of death,
One who cried and sobbed till their last breath,
Afraid of the end, the end of it all,
The pain, the cries, afraid of death.

Another who silently passed away,
The natural death of old age,
But the last who breathed last with a smile,
The death of deepest midnight shade…

The latter he was, a militiaman,
Of unnerving nerves, lionhearted and brave
Yes I am, I was, will be,
HE consoled himself as he crouched in the cave.

And then when vanished the last beam,
The beam of night, of hope and dreams,
Came the awaited, the detested, the dreaded,
His heart sank, as he eyed the last beam.

He did not attempt to defend or escape,
AS the gun rose up, at the end of the day,
AS a finger stirred, and a trigger was pulled,
As it shattered the silence, of the solemn day.

Death of deepest midnight shade…