Home BLOGS Part 2

OF SCHOOLS, MISTS, FILMS & HOME

Dear All,

As promised here is a second collection of mini-blogs about Darjeeling.

Please do write in to tell me your thoughts. Any thoughts.

Enjoy

Luv

Vish

BETHANY

As nursery/primary schools go, there is nothing in Darj yet which can beat good ol’ Bethany.

Of late Himalayan Nursery and others have been giving it some stiff competition but frankly where Discipline (even for the poor teachers), Standard and Quality goes, there’s nothing that even comes close.

And yet it never seems to get the full credit it deserves. When schools in Darjeeling are talked about, it’s always NP, SP, Loreto &. MH (and in that order too).

If Wordsworth once claimed that the Child is the Father of Man, then Bethany is certainly the foundation on which many a Paulite, NorthPointer or Loreto-ite have built their individual structures of excellence.

And amidst the ever growing concrete jungle that is Darjeeling today, the school still stands proud and unchanging like a miracle of an oasis.

What a relief. What a bloody relief. And may it never change.

P.S. I am not writing this out of any bias. For the record, I did my pre-school in Miniland Nursery before joining NP.

DAS STUDIO.

I seriously doubt there is any one in Darjeeling who has not stood waiting at the counter in Das Studio. Waiting anxiously with that thin strip of paper/receipt in hand even as ‘daju’ would go into the backroom to bring out your envelope of photos.

As he came back you would look carefully at the size of the package in his hands. (ok you dirty minds, dont get ideas)

If it was bulging (sorry for the choice of words but do try and keep you thoughts clean) then you could be happy that of the 36 exposures, at least 30-32 had developed into photos. Never mind that many were blurred or than many had close-up’s of the startled photographer's face.

“Khai herau tah, kina click hudaina,”(let me see why its not clicking)- turn camera towards yourself and - “CLICK” the flash would go off followed by an exasperated “HAAETH-TERIKA”.

But they were all valid photos. At that time, anything that developed was considered valid.

“Amboo, sabbai chattees print aayo?” younger cousins would ask in shock & awe and a renewed respect of your photographic abilities.

However if the packet looked thinner than usual you could be sure that atleast 1/2 the film was wasted.

And the worst part was you never knew exactly why .

Was it because you hadn’t taken the picture well or was it because that smart-ass cousin had opened the back of the camera before the film had ‘rewinded’ fully or maybe, just maybe the dajus at Das just screwed up and blamed it on you. But you never knew. You didn’t have the choice of knowing. You just accepted what you got and yet strangely it seemed all the more interesting.

Then once you paid the amount you’d slide across the counter in order to let daju deal with the next customer. Remember you’d only slide across the counter to the corner, not leave.

You never left Das without going through the photos first.

You and everyone else who came with you (and some uncles/aunties who happened to be in Das at the time) would then huddle over heads and shoulders almost as if you were on some kind of discovery.

And you know what? It was a kind of discovery.

By virtue of the film having been loaded ages ago the final prints would always be a revelation.

Conversations at the counter would range from “haer katthi moti thiyo tyas bela” (look how fat she was in that photo) or “bechara ramro manche thiyo, chito maryo” (poor guy died so early) or “ha ha Samir lai bell-bottom ma herna” (look at Samir in those silly bell-bottom pants).

Births, Deaths and even Fashion changed between Shooting & Developing.

In today’s 12-megapixel-digital world such innocent wonders seem so far away.

Unless ofcourse, you visit DAS STUDIO.

The décor is the same, the huge pictures of mountains are the same, the ‘lab’ seems the same and even the daju’s are the same.

As my friend put it so well, “Maybe they are film not digital”.

Maybe....yeah, maybe.

PRESSURE COOKERS.

As I walked the streets of Darjeeling and visited friends and family, one of the most common sounds was the “hissss” of the pressure cooker.

The month before I left for my vacation to Darj, the washer on my pressure cooker went bust.
Not the big rubber one that goes round the lid but the more smaller one which is in the middle of the cover surrounded by a nut.

Anyway, after scouring almost every hardware store in Abu Dhabi for the same, I not only did not find a replacement but was instead given unasked for advice.

The Asian shopkeepers were invariable sympathetic and suggested I ask some relative from India to send one for me (imagine the courier cost).

Meanwhile the Arab (Middle-Eastern) shopkeepers were either confused at to what it was or their advice was simple. “Why don’t you just buy a new cooker?”

Maybe cooking with a pressure cooker and repairing things endlessly are both unique South-Asian traits. Or maybe i'm just a kanjoos. Between us.

THE WHAT?

English maybe the lingua franca and all that jazz but it is also wonderfully adaptive.

I doubt there is any other language which lends itself so easily to distortion.

Like the UP-Haryana belt which has numerous shops luring you with either “Child Beer” (under-age drinking?) or "Child Bear" (animal farm?) or the even more confusing "Chilled Bear" (poor cold animal?).

It is almost always hilarious and apart from the humour, I personally think that it all adds to the whole flavor of each place.

And Nepalis spelling in English can give the Indians a run for their money.

Whether its ads enticing you to eat some Bugger or Chinees food which promises Momos (dumplings) but also offers some Mom's on the menu.

However while these miss-spellings and odd phrases are funny in day to day use, it ceases to be funny in places where accuracy is paramount.

The doctors clinic, where misspellings can quite literally be a matter of your life and death is the last place where you’d expect this. Even if the printer did make a mistake you’d think the learned doctor would have noticed it.

At a clinic in Darj I saw the following sign.

Lord help anyone who has a foctus problem.

THE MALL

Darjeeling can be anything you want it to be. Cold, Romantic, Mysterious, Startling or all of the above. And sometimes at the same time.

Having eaten too many of the Keventer’s breakfasts I decided to go for an early morning walk around The Mall. If you approach it from the left side and go past Bhanu Bhawan, the moment you cross the Governor’s House is when the best part of the walk begins.

March still had the nip of winter and as the clouds began to rise from Lebong below, we were left walking, surrounded by a mist so thick it seemed like cotton candy.

In such an place the voice seems softer, the conversation more clandestine and your steps just that little more stealthy.

And as we walked, faces (both familiar and strange) would appear out of the mist for a few seconds of exchanged greetings or discreet nods before melting back into the fog behind us.

Is everyone generally polite in Darjeeling or do I just know more people here, I silently wondered.

As we approached the Mahakal Mandir area, a monkey emerged from the fog and ran across in front of us and almost as if nature was taking a cue from him, the wind shifted and the mist cleared for a moment.

Just for a moment, but in that brief moment Kanchenjunga appeared before us in all her majesty.

Clear, Proud and Magnificent.

And in that same moment Burj Khalifa suddenly seemed so small.

Jey Gara, Jaso Gara, Jata Sukai Laijao Malai....

Home is really where the heart is.

Till next time and more darjeeling memories.....

STRADDLING FAULT LINES

CHASTITY FAULT LINE

Just yesterday i blogged about the lunatic zealots who are giving all muslims a bad name and almost as if on cue comes a news story about something similar.

What can i say, but repeat.

Someone, please save these people from themselves.

Till next time and more positive topics..

Luv

Vish

EXTRAMARITAL SEX CAUSES EARTHQUAKES, CLERIC SAYS

GULF NEWS: 18.04.2010

TEHRAN: A senior Iranian cleric has claimed that dolled-up women incite extramarital sex, causing more earthquakes in Iran, a country that straddles (seriously, no pun intended) several fault lines, newspapers reported on Saturday.

"Many women who dress inappropriately ... cause youths to go astray, taint their chastity and incite extramarital sex in society, which increases earthquakes," Ayatollah Kazem Sedighi told worshippers at Tehran Friday prayer.

"Calamities are the result of people's deeds," he was quoted as saying . "We have no way but conform to Islam to ward off dangers."

The Islamic dress code is mandatory in Iran, which has been under clerical rule for more than three decades. Every post-pubescent woman regardless of her religion or nationality must cover her hair and bodily contours in public.

Offenders face punishment and fine. But this has not stopped urban women from appearing in the streets wearing tight coats and flimsy headscarves and layers of skillfully applied makeup.

Iran is also prone to frequent quakes, many of which have been devastating. The worst in recent times hit the southern city of Bam in December 2003, killing 31,000 people -- about a quarter of the population -- and destroying its ancient mud-built citadel.

The Sania-Shoaib Love Farce

WISE MEN SAY.. ONLY FOOLS RUSH IN...

In the movie The Queen, at one stage a frustrated Tony Blair says of Her Majesty and The Royal Family:

“Somebody save these people from themselves”

Today I feel a similar sentiment towards the Indian Muslims.

Now let me make it clear at the beginning itself that I am not some Hindu fanatic nor that this post is anything remotely close to that.

I think that Muslims in general aren’t bad but that a few crazy lunatics hijack the whole faith and subsequently the whole debate about tolerance etc.

They have literally been giving fodder to the right-wing Hindu nutcases to label them as a bunch of 3rd century lunatics.

And all this over just 1 wedding. Sania & Shoaib’s.

I have been watching the whole Shonia (as its now being called) drama with an increasing sense of shock and amazement.

Look at the facts:

Sania met and fell in love with Shoaib. Frankly what she saw in that bumbling fool (watch his press conference) is besides me but that’s her choice.

Suddenly someone named Ayesha Siddiqui came out of the woodwork to claim she was already married to him a few years back.

The ‘nikaah’ allegedly happened over the phone after exchanging photos.

Shoaib on his part began to spin more stories than a spider on Viagra.

First he claimed he did not know of any Ayesha. Then he claimed that she tricked him by showing a picture of a slim beautiful girl. (Instead of the obviously obese and ugly Ayesha was the part left unsaid)

When he found out about this he did not go ahead with the wedding.

His sleazy brother in law, Imran, then came on Pakistan TV to explain to a disbelieving public about how a Pakistani captain could be fooled by such trickery. Imran told viewers that the girl who enticed Shoaib over the phone, was in fact her clever friend. He also told us how when Shoaib went to Hyderabad to meet his bride-to-be many times, she was never there.

The family, I believe, came up with some excuse nor the other; she wasn’t in town, she was unwell and in hospital, she was in another city where she was trying to convince Yuvraj Singh to marry her. (Ok Ok I made the last one up but frankly the story is so crazy it could probably be true).

I don’t know about the veracity of the wedding but the interview made 1 point very clear.

If not a liar, Shoaib was certainly a stupid, stupid guy.

Ayesha’s mother, not to be left out, came on Times Now to give her side of the story but in place of facts she just shed some serious tears. “I-am-crying-so-I-must-be-telling-the-truth” seemed her only defence.

Ayesha meanwhile came on a private Pakistani TV channel (phoned in actually) to claim that she not only married Shoaib but that she even had a miscarriage.

Then as if to prove her mental sanity (or lack thereof) she claimed that she still has the blood stained clothes from her miscarriage. (Who else but a lunatic keeps such mementos?)

This girl was clearly crazy but my question is; What was her family doing? Why were they not putting an end to this nonsense?

Shoaib meanwhile went from bad to worse.

Even as Indian TV channels were gleefully broadcasting clips of him practicing his dance steps in Sania’s house, another TV channel dug out an old clip of him admitting to being married to a “Hyderabadi girl”.

The very next day he was in front of Sania’s house facing the media and lying through his teeth and claiming that he has never been married.

But as a certain Mr. Bond once taught us, Never Say Never.

The next day we were informed that religious leaders (who and why?) had gotten involved and a compromise was being hammered out.

Shoaib would divorce Ayesha (who he claimed he hadn't married) and pay her off (an allegedly 15 crores) leaving him free to marry Sania.

Phew. Finally over. But wait a minute.

As another old axiom goes: It Aint Over Till The Fat Lady Sings.

Or in this case a fat Imam who issued a fatwa condemning Shonia.

They were allegedly living together in Sania's house before getting married and the Imam apparently got his knickers in a twist over Sania’s lack of the same. Or so he imagined in that fertile sex-obsessed mind of his.

The wedding scheduled for the 15th got hastily advanced and the 2 finally got married to (hopefully) live happily ever after.

Apart from the sleaze, there is a hundred things wrong about this story.

Just look at how it makes the Muslims look.

Marriages happening over telephones? (ha ha and not even over a webcam???).

Imam’s more worried about some engaged couple’s sleeping habits rather than more important things.
Religious leaders facilitating massive pay-offs.

What The Fcuk! Seriously???

The VHP-RSS-Shiv Sena etc must be delirious with joy. This is exactly what they have being trying to taint the Muslims as and here we are. Such lunacy.

And not a single sensible Muslim came forward to denounce this farce.

And that is the difference.
The silent majority.

Its not that the Hindus or Buddhists or Sikhs etc don’t have lunatics among them. The difference is that people from the same community immediately slams such nonsense. When the Shiv Sena went after SRK there was an immediate chorus of condemnation.

And yet as this Shonia farce played out, not a single prominent muslim came forward to call out this nonsense.

So can you help but say…..

Someone save these people from themselves.

Till next time and more blogs.

Vish

P.S. If I am not mistaken, a Muslim guy can legally keep 4 wives at a time, so what was all the insistence on divorce all about?

Home BLOGS

UPDATED





Nischal da has kindly sent me a pic of "Orient Restaurant" so you can all check out the over-spelling of the word.

See Below:






OF HOME 'MADE' STORIES and OTHER THINGS



Hi Guys,










I was recently in Darjeeling for a short 2 week vacation and on the suggestion of some friends i'm doing a series of short mini-blogs on things that are uniquely Darj.


Just a way to remember the lil things that make Darj home for so many of us.


Let me know your thoughts.


Luv

Vish

RAIN

Visits home always involves lots of aunts and cousins who either come visiting or invite you over for lunch or dinner.



During one such visit by an elderly aunt when she had retold almost 3 hours of old family stories my eyelids began to droop and before there could be some more family drama I stood and went to the window to gaze at the mountains. At that moment even the mountains seemed more interesting than my old aunt's even older stories.

This was when I first noticed a few stray drops of rain fall on the windowpane. Bored and desperate to break the seemingly unending flow of ancient stories, I turned to the group of relatives in the room and mentioned that it looked like it was beginning to rain.

That was all it took to transform my old frail aunt into an opera worthy performer.

Standing up and belying all traces of her age and health she bellowed:

“Pani Paryo. Luga Uttha.” (Its Raining. Pick-Up The Clothes)

With her voice still ringing in my ears, I could only stare; stunned at the volume she was able to produce from such a frail body.

This shock was made even more amazing by the fact that there weren’t any clothes to pick-up.


Or for the matter that this, wasn’t even her house in the first place.

The flavour of Darjeeling is in the rain. Definitely.

---------------------------*---------------------------

ORIENT. OR IS IT?

Everyone who’s grown up (or studied) in Darjeeling will know of the famous hangout:
Orient Restaurant.

Atleast the ones who were born before 1990.

Those innocent childhood days had no internet cafés to spend hours over nor Facebook friends to report mundane status updates to.

All we had were boyhood tales & hamjayega jokes. And they were usually told & retold over steaming plates of momos & thukpas which were washed down with Goldspot and Thums-Up and sometimes, maybe something a little stronger….lets just say something that required a little more brewing.




Maybe that was the reason that among parents and elders, visiting Orient didn’t have quite the same innocent distinction as maybe Penang’s or Benis café did.

So going into Orient was almost always done on the sly. And furthermore by virtue of being situated at a tri-junction of what is possibly some of the busiest streets in Darjeeling, entering Orient also had the added danger of being spotted by some relative or the other.


“Papa ko sathi, Gurung Uncle le dekheko thiyo re tah….” and all that drama.

And maybe it is because of this very reason that I had never realized that on the entrance board, both the words “Orient” and “Restaurant” has been miss-spelt.

And how have they been miss-spelt?

Well, you’ll just have to look more closely the next time you are in that part of town.

I am still too scared to stand in front of Orient and take pictures… who knows, that Gurung Uncle may still be around.

Note: This pic is courtesy Nischal da

---------------------------*---------------------------

TAILORS

The zip on my suitcase had come off courtesy some over-eager baggage handlers at Bagdogra airport and unlike the UAE where things like this are usually disposed of, Darjeeling has a neighborhood tailor who’ll pretty much repair everything that can possibly be fixed.

That new jeans needs to be shortened? No Problem.

I need a cover for my car. No Problem.

The house needs a curtain? No Problem.

Shower Curtain?? Still No Problem.

And what is more, his “personal touch” will put most multinational customer service providers to shame.




I have to admit that I don’t visit the Tailor often, heck, for that matter I don’t even go back home so often. Yet when I went there with my suitcase the first thing he said was…


Kaile aaunu bhayeko? Dubai ma, hoina? (When did u come? You’re in Dubai, aren’t you?)

And here in Abu Dhabi the supermarket I visit almost every day probably doesn’t even know I exist.

Home. Aaah.

---------------------------*---------------------------

BENIS KO AALU

This, as every true-blue Darj gal will tell you, is actually not 100% accurate.


If it were taken literally, every tourist would probably look for Beni’s, locate the café and then complain about the horrid aalu they got there and curse your taste.

What Darj people mean when they mention the above is actually a small shop located opposite the café. It has no name, no signboards and at first glance you can barely imagine that such a place could be famous.



However having eaten there ever since I was a kid, for me, it has always been just “Benis ko aalu dokan”.

It probably took a jaundiced NRI eye to notice that the actual place they do the cooking in is a small room directly above the shop. And guess what? It has a window through which you can see the kid (or child labour depending on how you look at it) stirring the huge pot.



And the place is not even tall enough for him to stand straight.
So as a result, he’s always hunched over the pot as he stirs.


The secret of the taste of Benis, I dare say, is probably coming from his sweating brow.


But then who cares.... the cold in Darj makes everything fine again. Even Germs.

---------------------------*---------------------------

FOR THE LOVE OF THE FLAVOUR.

There is a new brand of condoms in India. Its called Manforce.


(Now whether the name in any way recommends rape or any kind of 'forced' entry is another topic for another day. )


For today I’m more interested in the flavours.


Selections like strawberry, banana (obviously), bubblegum, vanilla etc are the usual suspects when it comes to prophylactic flavours, but remember this is an Indian condom, marketed to Indian tastes. And so guess what they came up with?

What else but “Pan Pleasure”



Now I would usually associate chewing paan with a guy.

Not that women don’t chew paan, but if it were to be an obsession, I’d think a guy would seem more appropriate.


And if I am not mistaken, flavoured condoms don’t really do much for the ‘wearer’ as opposed to the ‘partner’ so I’m really confused as to who exactly the target audience for this is?


Unless ofcourse it causes a ‘tingling’ sensation and you like a ‘tingle while you fingle' - so to speak.


Khair... Jaane do

---------------------------*---------------------------

CALENDARS.

Long before Vijay Mallya began customizing it with skimpily clad girls, Indians (and you didn’t have to be famous for this – you just needed a giant size ego) were printing and distributing calendars freely.

But Greed always trumped Ego so the calendars were usually 1 big sheet with a picture (usually of some God) with flimsy date sheets to rip off at the bottom.




This time at a friend’s house I happened to see one of these calendars.


Now apart from the fact that he was a LIC Agent there really wasn’t any other justifiable ‘qualification’ for actually printing and distributing calendars.

Maybe he just liked to see his name in print. Maybe he needed to make a point to someone. Maybe…. I don't know..


But to be fair it was also mentioned that he was a Gold Medalist of some kind.

But going by the spelling, just the spelling.... I’d say not a very good one.
Maybe he just 'made' the gold madel.



Till next time ........

NEW MOON: Movie Review

OLD MOON IN A NEW BOTTLE

Dear Friends,

I was on a short vacation and therefore i could not blog.

Anyway before i come to some blogs on Darjeeling soon, here's a review i have been holding off on for more than a few months now.. Let me know your thoughts.

Luv

Vish

THE TWILIGHT SAGA: NEW MOON
MOVIE REVIEW

I have been holding off on writing the review for New Moon for almost half a year now.

Most of my friends loved it but I just did not go ga-ga over it. I found it stupid and surprisingly over-the-top.

Maybe I was in a bad mood while watching the film. I gave it the benefit of the doubt and didn’t write anything. However last week on my flight back from Delhi I watched it again on the inflight selection. And guess what. It was still bad. Still ridiculous.

In the movie, after it is advertently revealed that Jacob is actually a werewolf, the vampire loving Bella and him walk in the beach and have the following conversation.

Bella: So you are a werewolf.
Jacob: I guess so.
Bella: Isn’t there anything you can do about it.
Jacob: Its not a lifestyle choice Bella.
Bella: Aah OK. I guess so.

Friends of mine in the US who saw this movie reported contrasting reactions during this scene. The tweens were going “aaaahhhh” but most of the adults were laughing at the sheer sight of Bella & Jacob talking about it like it were some minor issue.

So the only real reason for its massive success has to be the teens and the teenagers or “tweens” as they are now known.

Anyway I’m getting ahead of the story here. Lets start at the very beginning because as Ms. Julie Andrews taught us, it a very good place to start.

When Bella (Kristen Stewart) wakes for the first time in The New Moon she’s horrified by the nightmare she’s just had. That is, as she looks out on a flowery field, she sees her future, as Edward’s (Robert Pattinson) beloved who is an old woman. The horror apparently is that she is aging. After all, she suddenly wakes up and remembers, it’s her 18th birthday already.

This ‘tragedy’ is somehow made worse when her dad, Charlie arrives in her bedroom with gifts and jokes that he’s spotted a gray hair amid her glorious thick brown tresses.

Well, it’s just too much.

Bella, being the drama queen who takes herself way to seriously, rushes to the mirror to assure herself that she’s not, in fact, old.

For most of us in our late 20’s and 30’s this is just plain silly. Stupid and Silly.

Feeling Old?? And that too at 18? Come on, its even more silly than having a love triangle between a werewolf, a vampire and a stupid old 18 year old girl.

But for the tweens, this taps into their inner angst where 25 is unimaginably OLD and where anyone over 30 is automatically Uncle or Aunty.

It’s no surprise then that Bella turns this bit of angst into her recurring desire, that Edward turn her into a Vampire i.e. have hot vampirish sex with her (again something the tweens seem to always have on their mind).

Not that it matters. As everyone knows by now, Bella and Edward are all about delaying gratification. They gush, they pant, they touch foreheads and maybe just maybe, kiss sometimes.

But the fact that 3 more films have to come out of this means they need a few more problems. So Edward suddenly and quite inexplicably decides that Bella just doesn’t belong in his world. He doesn’t want her, he says, and in addition, he asserts “You’re not good for me.” Strangely the stupid girl believes him and begins a very long and boring 15 minutes where she longs for him in angst. (Yeah baby its all about the angst in this movie.)

Edward of course is not “gone”. He keeps appearing as a smoke-ish image to warn Bella not to be “reckless,” which of course she (being the stupid girl she is) keeps being in the hope that she will see his smoky image again. Seriously, where is SKYPE when you need it?

Anyway after she finally gets tired of moping around and hitching rides with Hell’s Angels, she decides to visit Jacob (Taylor Lautner) to get him to fix some bikes (??). He falls in love, she gets reckless again, she falls and he does what he was paid to do in the movie. He removes his shirt.

Bella—and every tween in the audience—gasps.

In an example of very bad, corny writing she says breathlessly, “You’re sort of beautiful!” Maybe that white faced wimpy bloodsucking leech isn’t her only option. Maybe. Just Maybe.

But there’s a complication. But of course.

Even as Bella begins to softly caress Jake’s abs (and for the sake of the tweens he is almost always bare-bodied), he reveals that he’s a werewolf. Which leads us to the beginning of the review where I mentioned their ridiculously mundane conversation about something so radical.

“You’re-a-werewolf-OK-Great-Now-lets-get-on-with-it” kinda mundane.

Then for some agonizingly slow 30 min or so of the movie, Bella begins to ponders her future while Jake turns into a wimpy lovesick wolf-boy and Edward prepares for a strip-tease in Italy.

And yet… all this drama leads exactly nowhere.

You don’t have to be an expert in the Twilight series to know that Bella actually has no option. That Edward who’s determined not to have sex with her is always the “one.”
Wolf-boy has no chance of sinking his fangs (or any other part of his) into her.

New Moon then hurtles towards a big flashy climax (no no, not that type of climax) that’s both hilarious and comically camp. During a meeting of the Volturi, Aro (Michael Sheen) tells Edward and Bella that they will have to be killed for breaking vampire laws. Edward has shown himself to the humans. Too bad Aro doesn’t know that Edward’s girlfriend has a wolf waiting as a second suitor. Imagine what he’d have done then.

Anyway during this ‘meeting’, the Volturi are shocked on discovering Bella’s special gift.
Namely that the cocky vampire mind readers can’t read Bella’s mind.

Now it’s not clear whether this is because Bella is really special in some way or because she really has nothing in her brain. I’d personally go with the second option but then what do I know.

I am not a tween.

The sad part of this climax is the waste of 2 great actors; Michael Sheen (having some great fun as he gets to act so over-the-top) and Dakota Fanning (whose power is to make a victim believe she is feeling pain which she does by looking sternly at the victim). Fanning in particular has less than 4 minutes of screen time and yet in those 4 minutes she makes you wonder what wonders she could have done with Bella’s role.

The 3rd installment in this saga, Eclipse, is coming this summer.

Unlike the tweens, I’m not panting in anticipation but then who knows.......

Maybe they’ll finally have sex. Maybe they’ll even have a threesome.

We humans live in hope afterall.