Friday, February 29, 2008

My baby shot me down!

Almost imperceptible, a hint of coloured reality lurks beneath the words of Uma “the Goddess” Thurman. The pang of being shot down plays a pivotal role in making our heroine aware of her femininity. Somewhere, deep down the valley of consciousness, the feeling of sexual suppression and racial abuse prepares a queer concoction! Strangely enough, the inevitability of being exploited as a woman never clashes with her affection for the lover boy, the age-old adage “nothing hurts like love” seems to be the potter-esque scar of this woman-child! She makes love with her ideas of perfection by dedicating her independent self to the confines of society like a mature woman and yet breaks like a little girl, showing her sand-made defiance.

Thereafter comes adulthood and April is the cruellest month! Even the flawed ideas have their moments of glory, church bells do have a tendency to weave magical sounds through still air and after all, we human beings are only human. So, the last shot comes unexpectedly and there remains only the bullet-ridden carcass of the angel of dreams! It’s pain, pain and excruciating pain all the way, and a little bewilderment. The song ends with almost an acceptance of what had happened, and we all see a woman trying to come to terms with actuality that has always been hidden in her dark corridors of loneliness. And yet, in her eyes, I can always see a bewildered look like that of a little girl!

Personally, from an inverted perspective, I am not sure how I would face the entire situation. Derisive I have never been, the way Dylan flaunted derisiveness in “Like a Rolling Stone” is never going to become my much-needed “protégo” charm. I lack that razor. I would rather prefer to say, “Don’t think twice, it’s all right”, and begin the walk down the long and lonesome road. I am ready to give my heart to somebody, but, if anybody ever wants my soul, the bargain would end there. I would still prefer walking the path with Bob Dylan inside my head.

Perhaps, the male counterpoint is always a little linear in its depiction of feminine reality!

No comments: