Saturday, December 22, 2007

Stranger Than Fiction

I saw this movie recently.

Earlier, I read a football champion and a wrestler, narrate his experience of coping with the "Central Cord Syndrome", as a result of a wrestling match accident. He explained how the toughest problems in life seem quiet manageable, only if we put them "in a little bit of perspective".

Expressing gratitude for simplest of things in life doesn't really come naturally to us. Nothing is too big and unsurmountable to die worrying about. And nothing is too small and insignificant to not be thankful for.

Many have spoken about it and felt it. And still, possibly, all of us tend to instinctively forget it.

I love this film for its simplicity, humor, extremely intelligent and engaging story telling and finally for the message. (There is an undertone of 'Douglas Adams' throughout the narrative approach of the film. It only adds to the whole impact.)

Sharing three quotes from the film -

Dr. Jules Hilbert: Hell Harold, you could just eat nothing but pancakes if you wanted.
Harold Crick: What is wrong with you? Hey, I don't want to eat nothing but pancakes, I want to live! I mean, who in their right mind, in a choice between pancakes and living, chooses pancakes?
Dr. Jules Hilbert: Harold, if you pause to think, you'd realize that, that answer is inextricably contingent upon the type of life being led and, of course, the quality of the pancakes.

Kay Eiffel: "If a man does know he is going to die, and dies anyway, dies willingly knowing he could stop it, then, isnt that the type of man you want to keep alive!"

"As Harold took a bite of Bavarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be ok. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true. And, so it was, a wristwatch saved Harold Crick."

Originally published Crimson Feet

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