I just dont complain when it comes to movies. But, I am gonna cry from the top of the roof now. I have been cheated of hard earned money. This you might call my open letter to Manchu Manoj.

I had bought the tickets of Nenu Meeku Telusa with the hope that this one represents the new era of telugu cinema. Alas! this was new, but not in the way I expected.

Let me count the positives first,

Cinematography is perhaps the best I have seen from a name not heard much. It was mesmerising at times, the color combinations, the angles created for few songs. Music, oh dear, this boy is talented. And I hope tollywood takes a liking to him. I just cannot get enough of it. Manchu Manoj, so much about the guys getting in shape and flaunting it in nonsensical stunts. And this guy does it without letting it veer away from acting.

And that ends there.

It was more of a pop album with dialogue interspersed rather than a movie. Did you hire someone for screenplay? It jumps to scenes without caring much about connectivity, was this a documentary? Did you hire an editor? I loved the cinematography, but why would you go for overkill? Why create multiple screen shots that have no impact? Shoot the guy who wrote the screenplay. Spoofs have a limited impact, they cant be the only source of humor. Shoot the screenplay guy, yet again. You call this a thriller, and build towards that is an anti-climax? How did you allow yourself to be at the mercy of two creatures anorexic and half weighted as a pistol towards the end? And to sum up how would you remember being chased by the goons the previous day after having had a good day sleep?

It was not meant to discourage you, but I wish there was more time spent on penning a screenplay and having a sequence thereon, deserving more time perhaps than that spent on scouting for locations, the wooden anorexic girls called actress, and perhaps getting that physique of yours.

Finally, being truthful:

I find this quite an irony, but so seems to be life. I have always hated anything remotely close to being philo, so is not what I am. I have moved on in life in every way that I can fathom and I realise that so have you, ever since we parted. I have been crazily good and happy all the days. But,

I fail to understand one part of life. Why did we have to get together so fast and end it so fast when something seemed to happen, before something could. And why should I ponder over it even two years after it did, at this hour of a day, when all I seek is a peaceful sleep, the stone sleep devoid of any snore that I am used to.

I am told that I come up with a reason for everything, and I laugh to hear that. It reminds me of one situation for which I fail to find a reason. And I believe you being smart enough to know what it is.

I hope you do not take this the wrong way and I pray such hope is not against hope. All I want to say is, it hurts every time to think that I had treated a wonderful girl in a manner which she never would deserve, and perhaps never gave the consideration or expressed in the right manner of the true emotion I had (have). I am not into going back to a thing of past and being guilt ridden, I can perhaps never be. But,

It does hurt. And it does not seem to subside.

It does not seem to matter if it is a day of activity, day of fun, day of work, all it seems to matter is, that the thought or perhaps the emotion has never deserted. And more importantly, it does not make me sad. It brings a dutiful smile, that others call as the trademark of mine. It tells me of a day that I owned a dream, which was truly rich, fragrant, and beautiful. I live a dream today that is no less beautiful. But,

It is not the same.

Quite an emotional outpour, something that is as true as fiction if it was usual for what I am. But,

This is not usual. This is the rare true self of that I am, one that the rarest amongst rarest has witnessed, which not many might in a day later than this.

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Yet again my memory fails me when it comes to the essentials, phone numbers and email ids. Where the mail took no more than a minute perhaps, the address took no less than ten of them. Thanks heaven, I was not into deleting texts or mails in a day of past.

Is it for real? I seek and ask myself again.
I seem to fail get over a part of the past.
Everytime I try do it, it ends up being
a stronger emotion than it earlier was

Of how long it had lasted before it ended
has been an irrelevant fact ever since

A memoir of past, a leaf that never blossomed again and remained dry and wrought, perhaps that will never be same again:

Times when I feel alone, I look around to find no one, except her.
It is her alone, no one else and I would do anything to live life alone with her, for there is nothing called life without her.

It snapped again and went off much quicker than the earlier ones.
Did it surprise me this time? Yes, it did.
That it snapped did not surprise me but the way it did.

Tying a knot I did not realize that threads around me were weak
When it actually began, it was catastrophic, a chain reaction.
Thread after thread snapped, leaving few around in no time
yet I did not give up, for there were those in which I had faith
and yet it snapped and when it did I see patience wear out
as does the confidence on the threads around.

For once I realize, it was plain stupidity to tie a knot
where everything was and is beautiful without one
yet I see a struggle for the urge to resurface, for
what has ever remained constant about life was and is
hope, though unfounded and insane, yet it fuels life.

What seemed as a path illuminated turned out to be a dark alley, the lanterns are no more there.
Few of them disappeared, few of them broke apart and few refuse to prove their life.
Yet, I clung on for there were those, which never seemed to fade away and yet they did.
When they did, they left me in the dark, darkness surrounded by murderous silence.

I am in the dark
yet I can see, a path.
There is silence all over,
yet I can hear, a whisper.

I can see a path in the dark, different from the one illuminated by lanterns
and I seem to love it for the path is the way I want it to be.
I can hear a whisper in the silence around, a whisper barely audible until now
and when heard it seemed like mind met the heart, finally.

I feel shallow inside for what has been so integral so long has vanished.

Yet, I don't feel the pain, I don't feel the anguish,
for I can never emote as I used to,
for the only one that could trigger an emotion has vanished.

On a stranger side, I feel lighter
for I have nothing more to lose
for all I could lose has been lost.