Experiences

My Neighbor Totoro (1988) This is a gem of a movie—precious, joyous, enchanting and a little sad. It’s about a childhood where there are adventures to be had at every corner, spirits and creatures in the forests to frolic with, of cat buses and furry trolls, of plucking corns and driving sooty sprites away with laughter. It’s about big fat tears and wonderful giggles. It’s about breathtaking visuals and lyrical moments. It’s about two girls—short-haired and lanky Satsuki (about 10 years old) and her cuddly pig-tailed baby sister Mei (about four years old.) They move into rural post war Japan with their professor father to be near their long-term ill mother in a nearby hospital. Their house is old, rickety, falling apart in places and most importantly, allegedly haunted.  There is a giant camphor tree in the yard that looks all mysterious. The girls are excited and just a bit scared. They settle down to their new life with zest and cartwheels.  Mei follows her sist...

On the boundaries of my childhood territory was this ancient ruined temple. Silent coconut palms stood over fallen granite columns and abandoned moss covered stone idols. The temple tank was but a small hole in the ground, overgrown with weeds and laden with lily flowers during season. People seldom passed through the temple premises. One heard of spirits and sprites. Even the lone pujari seemed frightened of it—he used to come early in the morning and leave not soon after. Now, if I had but a tenth of the imagination of the Japanese animation master Hayao Miyazaki, I would’ve grown up to write wonderfully enchanting magical tales about the place, full of woodland spirits and pagan Gods and friendly otherworldly creatures. But alas, I’m but an ignorant hack who hadn’t even heard of the master until yesterday—and then only because my nephew set up a Miyazaki marathon to take my mind off my pesky flu. The first five minutes were enough for me to get completely addicted to the ...