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The post END OF WATCH: fine Police-work appeared first on  KanglaOnline.com.

By elKay Takhel
There are buddy cop flicks and then there are buddy cop flicks. We are, all of us, more than familiar with the genre and the linear, almost predictable storyline. However, with all the photocopied plots and never-ending bromance, the genre almost never fails to entertain. The movie in question this week, is one of the better ones of the lot.

“End Of Watch,” I have learnt is a term used when an officer of the law gets slain in the line of duty. That pretty much sums up the whole movie for you, but not quite. In all the ways the movie is similar to the unending list of films in the genre, it still manages to hold its own, entertain and surprise in its own way. It manages to find the sweet spot between the territory familiar with fans and things that are still new to them. And in the end, manages to leave an aftertaste that’s not sour at all, not in the least. The end result being the fact that this is one of the best movies of the genre.

Like all films of the genre, past and future, the screen opens up to show two “buddy” cops on duty and then goes on to show the level and depth of their friendship. Taylor and Zavala played by Jack Gyllenhall and Michael Pena respectively play the lead characters as the ‘buddies.’ Taylor and Zavala are two Los Angeles Police Officers, who have been friends for a long time and almost like family to each other. Unlike other films where cops use their badges to run amok and go out hunting the bad folks cowboy style, the cop action here are kept slightly in touch with reality where the police is made accountable for their actions or inactions for that matter. But being “real” doesn’t mean that we are deprived of our rightful dosage of gore and on-screen gunfire.

Taylor is the more serious of the two; the organized person, who takes everything seriously, while Zavala his partner, is the one who breaks the ‘ice’ of seriousness. The two cops have their share of laughs when not in the line of duty but when called, they complete their work in all seriousness, honesty and with fierce intensity. They are in their own right the ‘heroes.’ They risk their limbs and more frequently, their lives in their ‘heroic’ line of work, to the extent of seeming preposterous at times that two policemen would face so much of action on their own so very frequently. But all this is forgiven in the name of cinematic liberty and masked by the excellent work of the actors, director and the tight execution of the tale.

The movie goes on to show Taylor’s new-found fascination with filming everything at work. Taylor and Zavala are transferred to a crime-infested part of LA where unwittingly they get deeply involved in conflict with the big fishes of the infamous Mexican Cartel. Things get more intense and the crimes more gory as they dig deeper into what they should have let lie, thus endangering themselves more than they already had which builds up the plot for the last act of the film.

David Ayer, the writer-director of this film and the well known “Harsh Times” deserves all the good word and accolades for a well-executed, almost plausible flick. He kept the storyline tight, plot intense, characters human and all this at a palatable pace. He has also been credited with films like “Training Day” and “The Fast and the Furious,” where also his job had been more than exquisite. The actors in the lead role Jack Gyllenhall and Michael Pena have also lived up to the expectations to the point where their performances didn’t feel like acting anymore; and they almost seem like real life police officers (on reality TV?). The supporting casts in the form of Natalie Martinez, Anna Kendrick, America Ferrera and Dan Houser have all been uitilized superbly and each one have all done their job without leaving any room for complaints.

I have had the joy of multiple viewing of this delightful piece of cinematic joy and I would advise anyone to do the same for they are not going to be disappointed, and that goes for you too dear reader. And like always, till we meet next, keep your eyeballs glued to the flickering screen.

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The post The Purr-fect Pet appeared first on  KanglaOnline.com.

By Tinky Ningombam
I am a Cat-lover. Always have been. But not all things have been bright and sunny for our darling felines. The world is filled with a huge amount of cat-haters. It has been a rather unfair world for Cats I believe; they are considered lazy, selfish and arrogant. No wonder they are scheming for world domination.

One does not choose a cat, a cat chooses you. People who are mostly are scared of Cats seem to be themselves insecure, it sort of freaks them out that cats can be so mysterious, I think because they do not understand them. And it is puzzling for them to own and live with something that they do not understand. They need clear intelligence like say “Woof” when you say “Yes”, drool when you are hungry or pee on the lamp-post when you are being playful.  I do not have anything against dogs, I do not like them but I do not hate them. I just think that they are not smarter than cats.

Haters say a lot against cats. They please no one but themselves they say. They are not loyal as dogs they say. But I choose to ignore them. So what if they are anti-social? You do have a right to pick who you want to purr to. Of course, cats do not want to be patted by every Tom, Dick & Harry.  Cats will go about doing their own business rather than following around you and seeking your undiluted attention even when you are with friends. They will not bark and howl when you go out with friends and leave them alone, they would not be bothered to be left to themselves, no Sirree. That’s called independence.

So, does the choice of your pet define who you are? I would say yes. Everyone has heard the famous saying that married folks start looking like each other, but own a pet and you start looking the same pretty much too. Just get out early in the morning and see people jogging with their dogs, they might not look alike, well at first, but they do act the same. Grumbly ones, happy ones, crazy ones and those with a drooling tongue.

Cats would not expect you to take them out for walks or throw them Frisbees. They will just be lazy and cuddle up to you when you watch your movies and eat Tacos. You do not need to bathe them, they can take care of their own. They are agile , graceful and strong. You are never scared of carrying them around or throwing them in the air. Seriously, what good is a pet if you cannot play catch, throw them up in the air and land on their feet?

What of pet- birds, you ask? You cannot own a pet canary without a cage or a parrot or a duck. Too high a maintenance for snakes, a mouse or even a rabbit for that matter. Felines are the only pets you can keep without a lease. They are first and foremost, low- maintenance; they move quietly, they are more polite. Of all the half a dozen cats that I have had as pets, none of them ran away unannounced, they would purr to me when they needed attention and would come at my beck and call. Some of them would be my excellent siesta companions. Sun-basking in the winters, chewing on strings, climbing trees and collecting dead bugs, what all did I not do with them?

Of all the good to mankind that cats have done, the media and movies have not always been nice to cats, this much we know. What with their movies about loyal dogs, about Dogs who help cops and dogs who become heroes. Cats have been stereotyped all their lives and for what? For being what they are? Super Villians and old witches shown patting cats in their laps. Why the constant connection of old hags and cats, one wonders most annoyingly. Every neighborhood seems to have an old lady with a dozen cats, “Crazy Cat Lady”, they call them, I seriously do not know how one assumes one is crazy when they own a lot of cats. What about people who are surrounded by pets just because they are kind-hearted and loving? And do not even talk about those poor black cats. Just because they are rarer, one calls them unlucky. Totally biased , don’t you think? And above all, Hollywood does not spare them either. Cats are always shown, if not as cute or dumb kittens, too girly for their own good or evil and scheming, the likes of serial killers: making Tom dumb in Tom & Jerry or Lucifer, the stepmother’s cat in Cinderella or bad old Sylvester constantly trying to kill the yellow canary Tweety bird. Even Garfield is obese and cares nothing more than eating and kicking Odie off the table.

Why does one forget that cats are distant cousins of the king of the jungle? That they are fierce and strong? That they are free-spirited, wild and intelligent? That they are independent and are not bound to anyone? That they fight battles everyday just to keep our rooms free from rodent attacks? And that they still make sure to be presentable and pretty when summoned. Now that is a pet you want to live with.

(The author did not mean to offend dog-lovers, well not too much anyway. One good thing about cats though, they do not make you feel like a bum even if you slept through the day.)

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The post Handicapped appeared first on  KanglaOnline.com.

By T. Priyokumar

(I)
My spouse is handicapped,
For, but what can I do,
But ignorejustthe pain.

Ignore the pain,
That is within you,
With a smile meaningless.

(II)
True,
Still and today,
Love, is
Forever a freedom bird.

The dust gathers on the bidden path,
And on their footsteps,
Shall we tread, softly
Like the winter rain.

(III)
And as we wait for tomorrow,
A dream,
Repeating like the history of years,
So does yesterday catch up.

It was only a while ago,
When hatred and doubt filled the mind,
But I reached out,
And the Lord picked me up.

A ray shines on the near horizon,
Above the looming dark deep blue mountains,
Cumulus clouds so do fade,
With the herald of the rising sun.

And so, shall we wait ?
For the tomorrow of yesterday`s dreams,
As I eagerly hope,
For the addition of numbers, three to four ?

(IV)
Tears cascading down the cheeks,
Of the happy innocent eyes,
A child of my mind,
Where does the memory part ?

When you are not in my arms,
Do I gather in my mind,
But down the blood flows,
For there is a wound without you.

But you will reign,
In your kingdom of my heart,
And with the break of dawn,
Shall we no longer be `capped.

 

Dreams

On the trial of a dream,
Did I borrow your pen,
Just for a short while.
From whence did we break ?
Our dreams,
Dreams, filtered down the memory lane.

For Thee
In my hour of need,
Thou wert so-
Generous
But in thine,
I failed –
So miserably.
Willingly would I go,
Mites, But I plod,
In the muds of shadows,
With heart,
Shaking with fear.

Time will come,
Surely,
And ages hence,
People will stare,
Agape, at the creation
That is ours.

 

 

Time

Dear darling child:
Precious you are to us,
Vagabonds that we are, for
From eternity were you in our mind.
No woman ever leave you,
No man too big for you,
In time,
Shall you come to know Him.

No land separates us,
Nor feuds do us apart,
From your mother-
A love`s present you are.
The sun will set for today,
But fear not, child,
The stars will twinkle for you,
If not, will be enfolded by dear mother.

As the woods bridge the river banks,
Learn ye the lessons of the day, and,
If you forget, as it does happen,
Then remember you your mother in time.
 

 Of Love

It was a cold winter night.
Not very late but bright,
Of sight,
From the candle light.

Today, we did not meet,
But the future is for sharing,
And,
That is my hope.

Tomorrow when you wake,
There will be a message,
Beside your bed,
Brighter than the breakfast that waits.

Because,
Of hearts did we smoke,
Our reserve,
But not to the core.

 
For My Daughter

Sometimes,
And many a times,
They would pick up,
And wonder.

With tiny hands,
Bony and fleshy,
They wondered,
And smiled at your quest.
Had I a camera,
As of a photographer wanderer,
1 could catch it for you,
But in a poem I would do.

With cap on your head,
Of blue,
Red shirt and of yellow pullover,
A darker blue skirt and similar socks woolen.
 
A winter day’s early morning,
With your tiny cousin elder,
On the verandah, with the sun,
And happiness on my self.

Sometimes,
And many times,
I would wonder and wander,
With a smile, of tears.

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