A Review on Dallas Buyers’ Club

The movie is not quite about AIDS, the much it is about coldness and meaninglessness. I reached the multiplex some 10 minutes after the movie had begun, but the drift of story and the direction is too easy to grasp, and yet so abominable. Matthew is an electrician. The recklessness in his life has a reason… he has learned to care for none as a gesture in return to his upbringing. By the end, he does talk about his memories of being a kid, of having a father… of being taken care of. Then all those experiences which began as a thrill in the evenings and pretended as sense of freedom slyly and slowly had become addictions and only way to keep the brain from wondering what went wrong, why his life was the way it was. He became so mellow with being that insanely drunk guy in the blinding mist of cocaine and screams, moans of whores and random girls. Movie does not have any noticeable music… I can imagine the horror of musicians though. He’s not a bad guy at all… it’s just who he is—callous and kind of rejecting and condescending. But somehow this is how men seem to be normal where he lives. Then one day while trying to save a guy from being amputated at the rail-yard where he works, he gets shocked and passes out. He wakes up in a local hospital and blood-tests turn out to bear a news, a dead-end to his horror—they confirm that he is HIV positive. Was it whores, was it queers, was it recklessness…?

So, he’s admitted and right next to his bed is this biological boy who feels like a girl—Jared. Matthew is homophobic not by heart but by trend. His homophobia is like their love for MTv top 40. But Jared is a very loving girl inside a guy’s body. They play cards and Matthew(character’s name Ron) loses. He is there after having tried to lose the sight of this HIV+ thing too in cocaine, liquor and whores. But he had to, for probably first time, accept that this one is different…. A drug company comes up with a new drug AZT which is up for a test for 1 year and having done a lot of research on his part, Ron tries to get his hand on AZT by bribing a mexican ward-boy. He was given only 30 days of life according to Doctors when first diagnosed positive for the virus. On 30th day, he goes to Mexico and gets those drugs which are legal everywhere else except in US[FDA just won’t approve of ‘em for some unspecified reasons which make it seem like a programmed fork of drug companies]. He lives to see the 32st day. He keeps on getting those drugs and succeeds in convincing the custom department that it all is for his personal use. All along, he has to experience rejection from his friends who have begun to believe that probably Ron has been sleeping with homosexual guys[71% of international HIV + cases were associated with gay sex relations]. It was shattering, but Ron had already grown up in Antarctica of human compassion—Dallas, Texas.

He has now realized that men and women are quite desperate and unwilling to die of AIDS. So, he begin to sell his stock of drugs and FDA’s legal means are actually after him in order to curb it… although they fail to intimidate him[he’s already dying, remember?]. Since it is illegal to sell unapproved drugs, he sells membership of this club called Dallas Buyers’ Club with which these drugs are complimentary. He makes a lot of cash. He also has to discover that he has Dementia. Matthew’s enactment of Dementia is beyond words. The man does not know to budge. Not even once he is screaming that he does not want to die. He moves to Jared’s place and makes him his business partner for he’s a queer and brings a lot many HIV+ clients to Ron. He also begins to like him as a person, makes homophobic people respect him too. For a while, they feel the rush of success of idea, the money, the friendship… each day they wake up living and breathing and feeling okay is more than a gift and they live it up.

Jennifer is also a doctor and she is someone who does not see HIV+ positive people, or any patient for that matter, as a raw material for their bread and butter. She loves Jared for his lovable character and warmth. Matthew keeps confiscating, kind of smuggling drugs to US and people keep living one more day. Some rich ones offer him places to carry on his arrangement when FDA butts in and closes down their work at Jared’s place. He dates Jennifer. Jared reminds him to take flowers along for the lady when she first agrees to see him. He goes to support groups and spreads a word about his club. The hospitals keep losing business, AZT is notorious for untested behaviours and in a way being poisonous. The drug companies somehow get FDA close the club down and Matthew has to live a while without even the medicine for Dementia while he is in a court case. The judge acknowledges that FDA is being a bully, but finds himself helpless ‘cause there is no law favour of people against FDA either.

There still is no music in the background… no score… one has to feel it, the hollowness and accept it.

Jennifer gets that nothing is being done by FDA and the hospital and AZT is $10,000 upon getting approved even without the studies being published. She helps Matthew get the drugs he trusts and testifies and hence is fired by the hospital. All along his trip to Japan and fading out there on a drug, Jared finds that his time is over… he yelps that he does not want to die. But, finally he is admitted and is put on morphine and sleeps to death, eventually. When Matthew returns, his is informed that Jared has passed on… he is shattered… and it is quite awful. He goes to Jennifer’s place and it is like everything usual, except the sex in the end is replaced with a hug as Ron has AIDS.

Matthew dies 7 years after being diagnosed HIV+. He lived the most after the news of HIV+ blood in his veins.

The fact that movie bears all along the reel time is that there is loneliness… no matter how much sweetness Hollywood and POP songs and Ads and sitcoms and popular fiction and all coat the reality with, there are guys who go to bed alone wondering what went wrong and how feeling sad for oneself is gay[IT’S NOT]. And this is what the film is about, the coldness because we expect a happy end, a lovely glossy life like walmart outlets and richness. People try to find passion, they trick themselves into thinking that probably if they get rich, their lives will get better… they try to escape accepting that it is all fucking illusion. It’s just love which men seek to give and feel. Jared happens to play this thing in his character… and he did a splendid job.


The Weekend

Didn’t sleep whole friday night, reach a friend’s place and smoked up till 2 PM. Then left for mountains. Reached around midnight and since had no ID on me, had to go hopping the hotels until one found me innocent enough. The hotel room was good. Rolled few fairies there and smoked ‘em up. History Channel was airing how sex changed the world series. Also, watched a BBC World documentary on Tea. Then there was this Leonardo movie in which he lives on a paradise kinda land and the female boss, the rules maker fucks him like a bitch. Then I passed out. I woke up around 7 and called up room service to get something to eat. Then I went to river Ganga, Rishikesh, around 8.30 AM and mahn… the water was so cold! I just was numb and only thing I could think about was more water. It was like once the water made me numb, I needed to keep numb… as it was quite windy around. After that when I came out and dried myself and draped in a cloth, I found that my body was radiating much more heat than it usually does when I am inside a blanket. It was lovely! Then I came to Mussoorie and it was such lovely day! I had lovely coffee, sketch Audrey and had shrimp in Malaysian noodles. Then I took up window room and smoked up a couple of fairies more. I watched TV for a while, studied a bit, thought about girls and finally passed out. 

I then woke up around 11 in night and smoked up again. My room-service got me something to it. It was such a close call as everyone was just about to go to bed. Then I had something, smoked up, watched the movie shooter. Then I just stared outside the window and the mountain edge sparkling with streetlights on empty streets. It was lovely.

Lately, I had been reading the book The Great Arc about the survey of India done by William Lambton and Colonel Everest. In Mussoorie, there is a Survey of India office. It was so cozily placed in the mellow beautiful spot. It had The Great Arc house, the officers’ guest house. Then I saw some adolescent guys trying to set up one of their friends with a local girl. A local guy told me that there had been snowfall in nearby town and that I should go see it. I had taken a cold water bath in the morning again and I was so tempted to go. But, instead, I came back to Delhi, to the office. I had to take espresso shots though to stay up. 

It was a very very beautiful outing. I understood how I no longer fear the chill, nor do I confuse wish to feel free with the fact of being free. I was completely consumed by antique shops and I loved the old old books!

The Reason

There is a pattern in all of my chapters with people. Often people find me to be a very close friend until something big happens in their lives, until the dynamism of their lives is changed by something like finding love, new job, moving offshore etc. I am a part of their past then… and I exist should they choose to keep close to it…. I always ask people one question before giving them any real valuable hopes of mine: if wind blows and leaves fall, what they would choose to be—the tree, wind or the leaves. I know that I am a tree ‘cause I cannot let go of something which my inside justifies and desires irrespective of how many times I fail and how much[many] I lose. I don’t mind pain—it’s only weakness leaving body, or maybe I am a wreck, a masochist.

But people require to move on to better lives, towards love, family, money and comfort. Whenever I see something big changing in the lives of ones I care about, I tend to cut myself off in a manner that they don’t notice and be able to forget me entirely. I seriously have no idea why I just cannot be the same way! And it hurts a fucking lot too! But somehow my inside tells me that this is the path to be, the truth of it all because I am only going for what I desire, I am being honest and am not cheating, being lenient to myself. I just cannot do whatever my inside finds wrong or else I am weak, afraid of pain which is indelible anyway. … and hence i keep alone, afraid of going close to people because I am unable to move with them.

Apologies to the Society

Well, the knowledge is only when you find answers and not the shitload of useless information. If some day you are turned on by a body[male’s or female’s, not necessarily human], you’re in no position to question for you are drowning in what you know about what all makes the body so darn irresistible. However, this same body could be must more than a touch, a smell, a taste, a voice… the body does in fact feel much more than it actually is because of your ‘hormones’.

I once asked a friend of mine who had been both in love and in physical relationship what makes two bodies lovers while love is virtually everywhere. She confirmed that a yearning for eachother’s body is mandatory to be lovers. I have always felt it to be a defeat to look to mollify, to please my body–I don’t have a favourite dish, dislike to sleep and haven’t been able to get myself to like sex either. But this is just because I have known a pleasure beyond bodies and my existence in society–the bliss of being able to explain, of having found answers in numbers, in equations. I don’t think I can ever be a lover in sense of society which is a cloth woven around pursuits for comfort and pleasures. I have no right to look down at it. Maybe they’re preparing for the old age when it would be tough to go on bearing travails….

I am apologizing because I have been lying. I am unable to feel free with thought of people in my consciousness. I am an impostor. I am gullible and stupid because I have yearned to associate with people… because due to my inability to feel free, I tended to keep out… I wanted to belong. I gave a lot of value to anyone who showed a little interest in my being, understood me.. I cursed society with my expectations and wishes.

I am so sorry.

Aspects of Coin

It’s easy to understand that all opposite things are only two aspects of same coin–they’re worth the same and coexist in the moment. For example, I am both weak and strong in a moment, I both love and hate in a moment, there’s always day and night in a moment and so on. Another conclusion is that I cannot love without hating because they’re the same, I cannot be strong without being weak because again they’re the same.

How do I explain those moments to myself when I was feeling weaker and weaker knowing that I must resist? Probably, my understanding strength as control over the thought and following action is being wrongly interpretted… there is division, a schism somewhere… a disconnect between my body and my brain. I often be able to lay over my body’s requirement to fall asleep; I draw the definition of control from there and extend it to other physical needs. But this model of governance often witnesses me trying hard to suppress the body, which I see now as a wastage of potential.

In fact, my biggest issue is opinion of people–they all sleep too much, booze, party, have sex and find it natural to be this way. This all brings satisfaction only when one is content in a moment, which I ain’t, nor should I be. My thought throws me far away from all this and then when I have to be with them, I have to fake a lot… trying to look sociable. But, my inside is slowly hauling this all as my life is confining itself around tasks and accomplishments, knowledge, art and thought. I am experiencing things in a new manner every moment… people in love liking to live the visual of a picture in a tainted cellphone screen, hating a myth, lying and creating stories to be seen for a moment. And above all, what justifies my being an observer and feeling not chained like these are… I cannot be more disparate than an antonym, which too lies on the same coin… worth the same.

Bled It Black

I blinked and was cut by a knife
i bled, i bled, bled it black
black i bled and the blood was mine.
though i couldn’t help to wonder
that blood should have been red forever,
when i’d die, only thn it’d change this colour,
black it’d become turning deeper and deeper
as l’d lay there… getting colder and colder.
It should be black when i die,
but i’m alive…. am not i?
I’ve been living it, whatever it is.
you were there in it
i could feel you so livid,
me with you in all your needs
was all i needed,may always need.
but seems u’ve disappeard all of a sudden
were u produced out of thin air, an apparition…?
Is it illusion? Was i living a lie…?
tell me, Do i always have to bleed
to know if i’m alive…?

This is a piece I wrote in my toughest time–when i faced faith being broken for the first time–almost 5-6 years back. I remember all of it. But somehow it doesn’t hurt that bad.


I neither get it nor deserve to talk about ways to attain it until I do attain it!

Oh, how all these fat loud fucking mouths of drugged, eroded, jaded and left-out misfits have been talking so much about peace and love without getting it!

Two words:



most used and least understood! I must keep myself from thinking about these and should never look for these ’cause it’d be giving into advertisement and not the truth for truth is what happens.