I stare right at you,
I know you,
I am you.
But, now, I am not so sure,
I somehow know the stark contrasts,
You are a stranger mocking at me.
Seconds tick by and the midnight approaches,
I sit alone here, seeing the reflection of you,
Noting the subtle changes,
Those that smiles cannot hide,
Is it a memory?
Is it the person?
What holds you there?
Frozen in time, unwilling to step out?
I know there is something wrong,
I can’t put a finger at it,
I just know it.
Mar 22, 2009
!!Self Talk!!
“When it is you who can’t let go of something, never ever let it go.” This sentence stuck with me from the moment I read it and that was way back when I was nine years old. Since then it is a mantra I repeat every now and then to hold on and fight that bit longer and to regain focus on something I was beginning to lose. With all my might I used to go back to the initial point of what started the entire process of this struggle and it never failed me.
Many a time we are willing to give up on a fight, because it is the easiest thing to do. But some struggles in life are really worth fighting, because they define the person you are. And some fights are essential to show the beauty of life. When you want to give up on something, just remember what started all this and if the reason still exists, fight and fight with all your might. There is a chance that you will succeed and even if you don’t, don’t give up. We all struggle through phases of life, struggle to stand tall and strong. Struggle to live up to the convictions, morals and virtues. Struggle to hold the sanity together. Every struggle forces us deeper into the quagmire, but every struggle will also strengthen the resolve. Focusing on the negatives of the situations will not help one succeed in life. A lot of people, sometimes people we love, are hell bent in proving the choices wrong, but since it is you who needs to own up to those choices, the choice is best left to you. Trust your choices, trust your instincts. If your heart craves for it, stick with it. You will be glad you did that.
When every inch of your soul craves for a break away, remember that the hour is the darkest just before the dawn. Sometimes it is easy to get carried away in the choices and self-doubt them. Just close your eyes and fore see the future beyond the struggle. Can you see yourself happy and satisfied? If yes, do not think for a second, just move, move with haste, for it is beckoning you, the vision you had. If it seems like you have no future, still you want to do it because it feels right, go for it, just be ready to face the consequences. Be prepared. Easier said than done, but being prepared can only bring the reality to perspective when the struggle proves futile. Yet, there is a life when one struggles, there is a hunger that craves for success, there is a desire that wants to explode. The multitude of strength that comes when in desperation is incomprehensible and like a spitfire. It is the only when that desperation creeps in that the will to succeed multiplies. So, don’t ever give up, however impossible a target it may be or how silly the dream may be. Not everything has a logical conclusion and everything need not have a reason. A will to hold on and a hope that things will get better is essential for survival.
A circle that life is, success and failures, smiles and frowns, mirth and joy, hope and despair, all go hand in hand. In fact, a success is like a bridge between two struggles. Fear not, for life is not unfair, it just seems so when the days get darker, but the sunshine will surely find its rays and the brightness of the day will bring smiles sooner than you can imagine. So, have faith and move forward.
Many a time we are willing to give up on a fight, because it is the easiest thing to do. But some struggles in life are really worth fighting, because they define the person you are. And some fights are essential to show the beauty of life. When you want to give up on something, just remember what started all this and if the reason still exists, fight and fight with all your might. There is a chance that you will succeed and even if you don’t, don’t give up. We all struggle through phases of life, struggle to stand tall and strong. Struggle to live up to the convictions, morals and virtues. Struggle to hold the sanity together. Every struggle forces us deeper into the quagmire, but every struggle will also strengthen the resolve. Focusing on the negatives of the situations will not help one succeed in life. A lot of people, sometimes people we love, are hell bent in proving the choices wrong, but since it is you who needs to own up to those choices, the choice is best left to you. Trust your choices, trust your instincts. If your heart craves for it, stick with it. You will be glad you did that.
When every inch of your soul craves for a break away, remember that the hour is the darkest just before the dawn. Sometimes it is easy to get carried away in the choices and self-doubt them. Just close your eyes and fore see the future beyond the struggle. Can you see yourself happy and satisfied? If yes, do not think for a second, just move, move with haste, for it is beckoning you, the vision you had. If it seems like you have no future, still you want to do it because it feels right, go for it, just be ready to face the consequences. Be prepared. Easier said than done, but being prepared can only bring the reality to perspective when the struggle proves futile. Yet, there is a life when one struggles, there is a hunger that craves for success, there is a desire that wants to explode. The multitude of strength that comes when in desperation is incomprehensible and like a spitfire. It is the only when that desperation creeps in that the will to succeed multiplies. So, don’t ever give up, however impossible a target it may be or how silly the dream may be. Not everything has a logical conclusion and everything need not have a reason. A will to hold on and a hope that things will get better is essential for survival.
A circle that life is, success and failures, smiles and frowns, mirth and joy, hope and despair, all go hand in hand. In fact, a success is like a bridge between two struggles. Fear not, for life is not unfair, it just seems so when the days get darker, but the sunshine will surely find its rays and the brightness of the day will bring smiles sooner than you can imagine. So, have faith and move forward.
Mar 21, 2009
The Art of expressing...
How do gestures matter? Should we reassure the presence of something that is quintessential for survival? Like, should one reinforce that there is air and that we are breathing it? Why do we express our emotions? Like anger, irritation, frustration, hate, love, despair – each having their definition and appropriate use? What does it mean to empathise? I mean, why should one actually express oneself? Is it not obvious when you know someone?
“Don’t you know how I feel?”, is such an obvious question and I wonder, how can one get into one’s mind to actually understand how one feels at that point of time? Is it logically possible to pin down one’s emotional quotient? Then why should there be a language to express emotions and why do we need so many words to bring out the stark contrasts of each emotion a person feels at a point of time? Smiles, tears, hugs or slaps… all these can be buried deep under, the entire expression language can be shoved into a casket and buried deep inside the earth or rocketed to Mars, right?
“Is this how much you understand me?”
Ha, the ever obvious finger pointing, but then, how difficult is it to actually concede one’s own feelings, consciously?
I keep wondering if it has got something to do with our culture and education system that one can barely form a coherent thought of expressing one’s own mind and thought. But then, I think it has nothing to do with the culture or education and everything to do with a self who cannot put a minimal effort to actually form an expression that would satisfactorily put forth a point! When I read the poetry written by Kalidasa or Devulapalli Krishna Shastry or Sri sri or Rabindranath Tagore, I keep wondering what happened to the likes of those people? Not that they are easily found, just that I wonder what is so grossly wrong that putting a word in front of another to form a meaningful sentence is so darn difficult!
Gone are the days where we talk in riddles or in verses, playing word games, elaborate discussions, healthy taunts, introspective sarcasm. May be we are too used to talking to the machines that our words are half broken, just as our emotions are, that we are failing in satiating a desire to express. The SMS, MMS, chat and whatever other means of communication exist have shaped the thought process of a human that the abstract definitions are the only possible means of communicating. May be we are just too used to abide by a contract that, internally we all manipulate ourselves to define a specific interface, saying this is what I can do and this is what I should be doing. May be, one should try chilling out and relaxing and stretching those defined rules and perceive the intuitions of letting go of taking oneself too seriously.
There is a beauty to expressing and when put properly can actually stir a soul to awakening. Saying I love you, even to a daughter or son or a wife or husband doesn’t mean much, but it actually is nice when they are told. A reassurance sometimes is essential, that helps fight a nightmare, when there is someone out there, who loves you. They are simple words, but when a dad says it to a daughter or a son, it is an assurance that no matter what happens, I am here for you and my love for you will never fade even when you find your own love. When a mom says it, it is a mere fact that she loves her child beyond reason or logic and is willing to defy the world just to protect her from the nightmares or the challenges that time has to offer. When a brother says it to a sister, it is a declaration of a loyalty. When a friend says it, it is a promise to stay forever through the treacherous hardships of life with an immovable faith in you that helps you face the life. When a husband says it to a wife, it is a declaration of his soul that is willing to walk to the grave and beyond. When a wife says it to a husband it is a declaration of faith that helps sustain a life.
Saying a thank you or a sorry does not belittle the person. Saying a Good Morning or a Good Evening or a Good night does not require a truck load of energy. It is a wish for God sake and is trivial, but may be it can make a difference to a person who is in desperate need of some encouragement. A hug, a smile, a reassuring touch, a soft peck, a pull of the hair, a caress of your cheek, a compliment is not so difficult. It only requires a fraction of a second. An acknowledgement of existence isn’t either. Subtle things make a difference. A change in the body language can speak volumes. Simple things can put life in perspective.
Why is it so difficult to confess these emotions that are running through the veins? Why is it that there is a sense of sanity in being plainly clueless to these expressions?
It is easy to mistake that everything can be read on face. How do we know the depths of the sea, looking at the vastness of it? How many volcanoes it holds beneath? A face can be a mask, eyes can speak volumes and so does a heart beat, but for a person who looks at your face or reads between your lines, it is not possible to sum up the content of it. It is not possible to fathom the depths of emotion a person holds by looking at a face, it would be like walking on thin ice, never knowing what is beneath or how dangerous it is. The beauty of speech, the coherence of language, the awareness of touch, smell, sight, taste, sound – all are there for a reason, to be used, liberally. Humans are blessed with an ability to think, talk and express. Using them elaborately does not do any harm to the existence of this planet. In fact it only serves better. Express ... express the thoughts of mind and heart and feel the lightness of the soul. Express, it makes a lot of difference.
“Don’t you know how I feel?”, is such an obvious question and I wonder, how can one get into one’s mind to actually understand how one feels at that point of time? Is it logically possible to pin down one’s emotional quotient? Then why should there be a language to express emotions and why do we need so many words to bring out the stark contrasts of each emotion a person feels at a point of time? Smiles, tears, hugs or slaps… all these can be buried deep under, the entire expression language can be shoved into a casket and buried deep inside the earth or rocketed to Mars, right?
“Is this how much you understand me?”
Ha, the ever obvious finger pointing, but then, how difficult is it to actually concede one’s own feelings, consciously?
I keep wondering if it has got something to do with our culture and education system that one can barely form a coherent thought of expressing one’s own mind and thought. But then, I think it has nothing to do with the culture or education and everything to do with a self who cannot put a minimal effort to actually form an expression that would satisfactorily put forth a point! When I read the poetry written by Kalidasa or Devulapalli Krishna Shastry or Sri sri or Rabindranath Tagore, I keep wondering what happened to the likes of those people? Not that they are easily found, just that I wonder what is so grossly wrong that putting a word in front of another to form a meaningful sentence is so darn difficult!
Gone are the days where we talk in riddles or in verses, playing word games, elaborate discussions, healthy taunts, introspective sarcasm. May be we are too used to talking to the machines that our words are half broken, just as our emotions are, that we are failing in satiating a desire to express. The SMS, MMS, chat and whatever other means of communication exist have shaped the thought process of a human that the abstract definitions are the only possible means of communicating. May be we are just too used to abide by a contract that, internally we all manipulate ourselves to define a specific interface, saying this is what I can do and this is what I should be doing. May be, one should try chilling out and relaxing and stretching those defined rules and perceive the intuitions of letting go of taking oneself too seriously.
There is a beauty to expressing and when put properly can actually stir a soul to awakening. Saying I love you, even to a daughter or son or a wife or husband doesn’t mean much, but it actually is nice when they are told. A reassurance sometimes is essential, that helps fight a nightmare, when there is someone out there, who loves you. They are simple words, but when a dad says it to a daughter or a son, it is an assurance that no matter what happens, I am here for you and my love for you will never fade even when you find your own love. When a mom says it, it is a mere fact that she loves her child beyond reason or logic and is willing to defy the world just to protect her from the nightmares or the challenges that time has to offer. When a brother says it to a sister, it is a declaration of a loyalty. When a friend says it, it is a promise to stay forever through the treacherous hardships of life with an immovable faith in you that helps you face the life. When a husband says it to a wife, it is a declaration of his soul that is willing to walk to the grave and beyond. When a wife says it to a husband it is a declaration of faith that helps sustain a life.
Saying a thank you or a sorry does not belittle the person. Saying a Good Morning or a Good Evening or a Good night does not require a truck load of energy. It is a wish for God sake and is trivial, but may be it can make a difference to a person who is in desperate need of some encouragement. A hug, a smile, a reassuring touch, a soft peck, a pull of the hair, a caress of your cheek, a compliment is not so difficult. It only requires a fraction of a second. An acknowledgement of existence isn’t either. Subtle things make a difference. A change in the body language can speak volumes. Simple things can put life in perspective.
Why is it so difficult to confess these emotions that are running through the veins? Why is it that there is a sense of sanity in being plainly clueless to these expressions?
It is easy to mistake that everything can be read on face. How do we know the depths of the sea, looking at the vastness of it? How many volcanoes it holds beneath? A face can be a mask, eyes can speak volumes and so does a heart beat, but for a person who looks at your face or reads between your lines, it is not possible to sum up the content of it. It is not possible to fathom the depths of emotion a person holds by looking at a face, it would be like walking on thin ice, never knowing what is beneath or how dangerous it is. The beauty of speech, the coherence of language, the awareness of touch, smell, sight, taste, sound – all are there for a reason, to be used, liberally. Humans are blessed with an ability to think, talk and express. Using them elaborately does not do any harm to the existence of this planet. In fact it only serves better. Express ... express the thoughts of mind and heart and feel the lightness of the soul. Express, it makes a lot of difference.
Memory always obeys the commands of the heart
Why? Why is memory related to heart? What is heart any way? A pumping machine or something beyond that? I am sure some one out there is willing to smack my head to the pavement for asking such a thrilling question. But, can’t help it! I was reading through some stuff today and suddenly found this statement and it got me thinking. Why is it that every memory should have an emotional quotient rather than a logical reasoning? When we get the job done with reason, why is it that heart, which basically is incapable of forming a coherent idea, needs to take command of the memory which in turn resides in the mind? I want to run through this idea with a few friends out there and I am sure I am gonna get my share of sarcasm and an earful of taunts and another earful of compliments for taxing my brain which they will conclude has deserted me, but I am gonna bear all this with a brave face as long as they are willing to pass me a proper conclusion as to whether the afore mentioned statement is right or wrong!
A possible reaction could be that I have lost my marbles! :)
A possible reaction could be that I have lost my marbles! :)
Mar 19, 2009
Things that can’t be, should not be.
To hunt for the pride, to search for the warmth, to feel belonged, to be loved, my choice all in all.
To love, to yearn, to long, to wait, my choice all in all.
I walk, I talk, I cry, I smile, my choice all in all.
You make me happy, you help me live,
You push me through my day,
You pull me up when I fall,
…
To be happy, to live a life,
To get by the day,
To rise when I fall,
My choice all in all.
Don’t you see, you are the wind beneath my fly?
Don’t you see, you are the breath of my life?
Don’t you see, you are the glow in my eyes?
Don’t you see, you are the pride in my heart?
To love, to yearn, to long, to wait, my choice all in all.
I walk, I talk, I cry, I smile, my choice all in all.
You make me happy, you help me live,
You push me through my day,
You pull me up when I fall,
…
To be happy, to live a life,
To get by the day,
To rise when I fall,
My choice all in all.
Don’t you see, you are the wind beneath my fly?
Don’t you see, you are the breath of my life?
Don’t you see, you are the glow in my eyes?
Don’t you see, you are the pride in my heart?
Search
I search for you in my dreams,
I search for you in the day light,
I search for you in the moonlight,
I search for you in the blue moon,
I search for you every where,
Why do I forget that you are within me?
I search for you in the day light,
I search for you in the moonlight,
I search for you in the blue moon,
I search for you every where,
Why do I forget that you are within me?
Mar 18, 2009
!!Irksome Me!!
My Net seems to behave conked these days, crippling me beyond reason. There is a sense of despair that is hanging round me because of it. I want to do ‘N’ things at the same time, the usual me. I am doing something and thinking something else at the same time. That in no way means I am multi-tasking, way beyond that. Except for work, I am hardly focused on anything with a single minded dedication. If it means, I need to study for something, I am usually thinking of folding the clothes that are hanging outside in the balcony or thinking about cleaning the table that seems to be cluttered with a truck load of things that I don’t even want to mention here. If I am watching TV, the incessant flip of the channels is almost essential to give me a feeling that I am actually watching TV. And if I am watching a movie, unless it is having some hot hero in it ;), I am usually thinking about the things I did that day or the conversations I had with people. And if I am eating, it would be that I need to complete it fast and do something. Though I enjoy eating and have a healthy appetite, I usually hurry through my meals (My mom usually wonders if there is some competition I have with some imaginary friend about who eats first), for no reason in particular, just that the eating is the most “energy consuming” and “time consuming” task in a given day.
Now why in the blue hell am I rambling on and on? Well, this just goes to say that I am jobless and hardly have focus on anything. The other day I was reading something and all of a sudden, I just lost interest. I just closed the book and kept it in the cub board and I KNOW I will not be opening it ever again. The simple reason being, the book stopped speaking to me as books usually do. It could not capture my attention. I am a person, if I open a book, I will not close it in the middle, for I fervently believe that if I read a single valid statement in a book, that book helped me gain that piece of wisdom that I lacked till then. Despite this book actually talking things that are way beyond me, I just snapped it shut. Then I opened word web, of all the things I could actually read, I opened word web! And I was learning words. And even that seemed to be a boring task after ten minutes that I opened a novel. Now, I read only fiction, especially adventure and thrillers. So, my collection generally has pretty good action packed novels that take me to a different world all in all. But these days, I see a change in the way I am picking up the books and my choice these days seems to go way back into the times of kings and queens when the earth seems to be conquered by sane people, a definite myth. Even the novel seemed boring. Then I suddenly realised it is I who is having a problem with focusing. All of a sudden, I seem to be lacking focus on things. That is pretty alarming to me because that generally indicates that I am taxing my brain for no good reason and I am losing sleep and peace. Setting off the warning bells, I decided I need to do meditation for sometime. Knowing very well that I will not be able to focus on the mantra, I just closed my eyes, synchronised my body clock to the current time and concentrated on breathing evenly, at the same time ticking of the minutes. This is called alpha breathing technique, I believe. And when I seem to be a little less worried about my lack of focus, I started multiplying numbers, big numbers. Now, with computer, excel, calculator, phone, all seemingly accessible resources, I realised I hardly remember my tables! And that triggered another set of thoughts that left me resignedly and hopelessly despondent.
I want to give an exam, do a research, work on my novel, technically improve myself, personally give myself some peace and beyond all these, there is some spark that disturbingly deserted me and I need to find out what it is and I am missing my friends like hell, all of a sudden feeling alone. That does not mean I do not have friends, I do have very good friends whose valuable time is generally governed by my moods, yet I am seemingly feeling alone. Why?
See, the rambling is still on. It is one of those days that I seem to have nothing to do but vilify my own mind. All this started with me trying to study. Now I wonder if ever I actually write the MBA exam and by some miracle be accepted in the college, will I be able to focus on the education? Will I be able to actually fulfil that dream of being an entrepreneur, some day? Or will I go along the tide and resign to the fact that I do not have the will to do it? Or will I, like a coward accept the mirthless thought of just living for the day? Restless mind, relentless hope, reverberating thoughts… stagnant me, that aptly summarizes the current, cluttered me :(.
Now why in the blue hell am I rambling on and on? Well, this just goes to say that I am jobless and hardly have focus on anything. The other day I was reading something and all of a sudden, I just lost interest. I just closed the book and kept it in the cub board and I KNOW I will not be opening it ever again. The simple reason being, the book stopped speaking to me as books usually do. It could not capture my attention. I am a person, if I open a book, I will not close it in the middle, for I fervently believe that if I read a single valid statement in a book, that book helped me gain that piece of wisdom that I lacked till then. Despite this book actually talking things that are way beyond me, I just snapped it shut. Then I opened word web, of all the things I could actually read, I opened word web! And I was learning words. And even that seemed to be a boring task after ten minutes that I opened a novel. Now, I read only fiction, especially adventure and thrillers. So, my collection generally has pretty good action packed novels that take me to a different world all in all. But these days, I see a change in the way I am picking up the books and my choice these days seems to go way back into the times of kings and queens when the earth seems to be conquered by sane people, a definite myth. Even the novel seemed boring. Then I suddenly realised it is I who is having a problem with focusing. All of a sudden, I seem to be lacking focus on things. That is pretty alarming to me because that generally indicates that I am taxing my brain for no good reason and I am losing sleep and peace. Setting off the warning bells, I decided I need to do meditation for sometime. Knowing very well that I will not be able to focus on the mantra, I just closed my eyes, synchronised my body clock to the current time and concentrated on breathing evenly, at the same time ticking of the minutes. This is called alpha breathing technique, I believe. And when I seem to be a little less worried about my lack of focus, I started multiplying numbers, big numbers. Now, with computer, excel, calculator, phone, all seemingly accessible resources, I realised I hardly remember my tables! And that triggered another set of thoughts that left me resignedly and hopelessly despondent.
I want to give an exam, do a research, work on my novel, technically improve myself, personally give myself some peace and beyond all these, there is some spark that disturbingly deserted me and I need to find out what it is and I am missing my friends like hell, all of a sudden feeling alone. That does not mean I do not have friends, I do have very good friends whose valuable time is generally governed by my moods, yet I am seemingly feeling alone. Why?
See, the rambling is still on. It is one of those days that I seem to have nothing to do but vilify my own mind. All this started with me trying to study. Now I wonder if ever I actually write the MBA exam and by some miracle be accepted in the college, will I be able to focus on the education? Will I be able to actually fulfil that dream of being an entrepreneur, some day? Or will I go along the tide and resign to the fact that I do not have the will to do it? Or will I, like a coward accept the mirthless thought of just living for the day? Restless mind, relentless hope, reverberating thoughts… stagnant me, that aptly summarizes the current, cluttered me :(.
Mar 16, 2009
Changeling
Changeling, by Clint Eastwood, set in the time frame of 1920’s or 1930’s, is a portrayal of a true story. Her son was missing and answering that compliant, police department returns a boy. It’s the story of this mother and her fight against the established corruption in the government bureaucracies when she goes against the authorities denying that the kid returned was an impostor. Angelina Jolie played the role of the distressed mother (Christine Collins) beautifully. The only negative I have on the film was that it was too quiet and a little laid back. But then, considering that it was Clint Eastwood film, I am not surprised.
Plot runs around Mrs.Collins, who goes public saying that the authorities have returned an impostor after gathering enough proof for her claim. When she approaches the authorities she was blatantly called irresponsible mother and a liar. Tolerating all these, she still begs them to keep looking for her missing son. She finds a friend in the local Reverend who uses his radio show to bring to the public notice, the atrocities of the cops and the corruption in the government hierarchy. He gives her the support to take her case forward to the public. Seeing that the authorities were unwilling to take any action on her claim, she takes the matter to the public, angering the authorities who brand her as disillusioned and put her in the psychiatric ward. She then gets to know a few inmates who were brought in here because they questioned the police authority. She begs the doctor to let her go saying that she was perfectly normal, who responds that she would be released if she was willing to sign a piece of paper saying that the boy who was returned to her was her son, which she refuses.
On the other side of the story, a detective was sent to deport a juvenile kid who was living with his uncle (Gordon Northcott) in the North Ranch, who speaks of the brutal killings of twenty odd kids by his uncle, who mercilessly slaughtered the kids and forced him to finish them off or threaten to kill him. The kid also says that the Walter Collins, son of Christine Collins, was also murdered by his uncle. On confirming the validity of the statements by the kid, the detective releases this news to the local media. The Reverand reading this in the news paper secures the release of Christine Collins from the psychiatric ward. The impostor reveals that he was here to visit his favorite actor and that the police forced him to lie that he was Walter Collins.
Christine on the other hand files a compliant against the authorities for erroneously putting her in protective custody and mistreating her when she was perfectly well. With the help of her lawyer, she also gets the release of other people in the custody who were placed for desisting the authority. She wins the case and brings in a much needed reform to the rights of the citizens, which was applauded by the people. On the other side, Gordon was picked from his sister’s place by the authorities and was brought to justice and though he pleads not guilty, there was enough proof for his brutal killings and he was sentenced to death by hanging, after a two year solitary confinement.
Christine continued to search for her missing son, refusing to believe that her son was murdered. After two years, Gordon, knowing that Christine was still hunting for her son, was willing to admit that he killed Walter Collins if Christine would meet him. When Christine meets him, he refuses to tell her whether he killed her son or no and was hung the next day.
A few months later, a kid who was believed to be killed by Gordon was found alive and he reveals that he, along with a few others escaped from Gordon and Walter was among them, though he does not for sure know if Walter was later re-captured or was alive, giving Christine the hope she required to pursue her search and that was the end of the movie.
Though it was not some sort of a happy ending, as one would have expected, it ended on a positive note leaving it open to all the hearts out there to draw their own ending. Clint Eastwood did a fantastic job of the movie and for anyone who would not mind a little heart stirring, can definitely watch it.
Plot runs around Mrs.Collins, who goes public saying that the authorities have returned an impostor after gathering enough proof for her claim. When she approaches the authorities she was blatantly called irresponsible mother and a liar. Tolerating all these, she still begs them to keep looking for her missing son. She finds a friend in the local Reverend who uses his radio show to bring to the public notice, the atrocities of the cops and the corruption in the government hierarchy. He gives her the support to take her case forward to the public. Seeing that the authorities were unwilling to take any action on her claim, she takes the matter to the public, angering the authorities who brand her as disillusioned and put her in the psychiatric ward. She then gets to know a few inmates who were brought in here because they questioned the police authority. She begs the doctor to let her go saying that she was perfectly normal, who responds that she would be released if she was willing to sign a piece of paper saying that the boy who was returned to her was her son, which she refuses.
On the other side of the story, a detective was sent to deport a juvenile kid who was living with his uncle (Gordon Northcott) in the North Ranch, who speaks of the brutal killings of twenty odd kids by his uncle, who mercilessly slaughtered the kids and forced him to finish them off or threaten to kill him. The kid also says that the Walter Collins, son of Christine Collins, was also murdered by his uncle. On confirming the validity of the statements by the kid, the detective releases this news to the local media. The Reverand reading this in the news paper secures the release of Christine Collins from the psychiatric ward. The impostor reveals that he was here to visit his favorite actor and that the police forced him to lie that he was Walter Collins.
Christine on the other hand files a compliant against the authorities for erroneously putting her in protective custody and mistreating her when she was perfectly well. With the help of her lawyer, she also gets the release of other people in the custody who were placed for desisting the authority. She wins the case and brings in a much needed reform to the rights of the citizens, which was applauded by the people. On the other side, Gordon was picked from his sister’s place by the authorities and was brought to justice and though he pleads not guilty, there was enough proof for his brutal killings and he was sentenced to death by hanging, after a two year solitary confinement.
Christine continued to search for her missing son, refusing to believe that her son was murdered. After two years, Gordon, knowing that Christine was still hunting for her son, was willing to admit that he killed Walter Collins if Christine would meet him. When Christine meets him, he refuses to tell her whether he killed her son or no and was hung the next day.
A few months later, a kid who was believed to be killed by Gordon was found alive and he reveals that he, along with a few others escaped from Gordon and Walter was among them, though he does not for sure know if Walter was later re-captured or was alive, giving Christine the hope she required to pursue her search and that was the end of the movie.
Though it was not some sort of a happy ending, as one would have expected, it ended on a positive note leaving it open to all the hearts out there to draw their own ending. Clint Eastwood did a fantastic job of the movie and for anyone who would not mind a little heart stirring, can definitely watch it.
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