Dear Movies is a zine for people who love film. It’s a collection of love letters to cinema celebrating the films we’re obsessed with, the films that made an impression, the films we can’t help but tell everyone we know about.
My poem in the lastest issue of Dear Movies Zine aimed to capture the feeling of a friendship I had early on in life. On that revolved around Lord of the rings and homemade Indian food.
Within the Explore issue of Dear Movies I drew inspiration from a movie that I love (Bar Bahar/ In Between) and one that I hate (Before Sunrise) and how each shows sellf-exploration.
A short but sweet poem was featured in the TELLY issue of Dear Movies where I focused on the almost lyrical quality of the TV series Sharp Objects…
For the FAMILY issue of Dear Movies I focused on a film that had been a surprisingly accurate glimpse into my own family life and which I love to this day…
Two Towers (for Deepak)
Here we sit, on faded eaten rug and watch what, for the thirteenth time could be the best movie ever made As your mother, hums from the kitchen pops cardamom in hot oil roasts chapatis on the open flame To me Mordor tastes, so softly of potato curry, sweet burst peas the tang hit of mango chutney Ork mud and my best friend and spiderman too, of course if we had time, which we did When you left I watched the shorter version, with a neighbour and I wondered where the film had gone And when I eat thick dosa though it never tastes like your mothers' I hear the roar of Helms deep
Let us, scramble with these words and city streets concepts we tussle and coddle and speak let us go on round and over this town where we aim to get lost in our own echoed sound of our voices close, bounced high off stone walls and echoed in each other I will say for you what I want to hear and you I we will place intent and meaning behind every damn syllable and really were just two narcissists blinking in awe at the cute reflection of how we look through the eyes of a lover.
This is not a town built for us, but with bricks and the backs and the sweat of our elders, the ones clutching keys we will make it ours again street by street. We will fill the air with heavy toned laughter told not to spread in out mother tongue but in the one so close and we will ignore, for a second, the injustice. Three women, each fights, bloody nailed, white knuckled for a place for herself, for those small moments when she is not trapped In Between…
It’s a poem echoing over and over Drown yourself in music and drinks and over and over Brush strokes and missed beats and tongue between teeth whiskey breath hot sun low rain and over and over and over again.
Little Miss Sunshine
The first film to shine some light on the happiness of unhappy families. Until seeing you and seeing us in you we seemed alone in the way we operate. But close to home and colour blind you caught us putting the fun in dysfunction…
Latest Issue // FRIENDSHIP // Spring 2020