Biography- Guess, who am I?

Countless number of times we have wished to be lucky. We wish to have fate of a superstar, a rock star, a businessman or even a politician (considering the immense amount of fortune they pile up during their tenure). There are some, who are born rich and some who turn rich. It’s all about hard work. The rich try to maintain their riches and work hard, while the poor works hard to get rich. Some believe destiny is scripted and some are the makers of their own. My story is among those famous stories that you would have heard from your mother at bedtime. It motivates some and some are left thrilled. I hope this article leaves you enthralled, yet keeps you motivated.
    The youngest child of four children in the family of French Canadian roots, I was born as James on January 17, 1962 in Newmarket, Ontario, Canada to Percy and Kathleen. My father was an accountant by profession and also an aspiring jazz saxophonist. Both my parents suffered from ill health. My mother Kathleen used to suffer from hypochondria, an extreme depression of mind or spirits often centered on imaginary physical ailments. She used to lie on her bed and take pills all day long. I wanted to cheer her up, so I used to walk over and do impressions of praying mantises and other weird things. I’d bounce of the walls or even throw myself on the stairs, just to make her feel better. This led to habit of entertaining people. I loved it very much. As a child I’d performed constantly, for anyone who would watch, and I even mailed my résumé to "The Carol Burnett Show" at age 10. Later I extended the funny performance to my classmates at Aldershot School in Burlington. I even obtained the teacher's permission to regularly carry out a stand-up comedy in class few minutes before the end of school day.
    All laughter and humor all took a drastic turn when I was in the 9th standard, my father, who was 52, lost his job as accountant. The financial status plummeted like the pack of cards and we were in dire monetary straights. That was a huge blow for my mild mannered father who had given up musical dreams in favor of family security. Due to this fiscal turnaround we had to sell off our home and relocate to the eastern part of Toronto. This was our family’s bleakest period, as we all agreed to work as factory cleaners for secured accommodation. We even took up janitorial jobs at Titan Wheels factory in Scarborough. I continued to study at the town's Agincourt Collegiate Institute. I did my schooling there and then worked at the factory for eight long hours every day. Inevitably the A grade student began to fail and this showed in my behavior in the community. I decided I had no option but to leave school.
Eventually my family decided the hostility between fellow factory workers and their general unhappiness was too much to bear and we moved into a Volkswagen camper van. Despite the cramped space my family was happier again. Seeking an opportunity for my stand up comedy abilities, my dad and I explored the whole of Toronto’s comedy clubs. Finally at the age of fifteen I landed with a show at Yuk Yuk's. I appeared in the show with a bright yellow suit made by my Mom. The initial performance at Yuk Yuk's sadly did not result well, but I was not discouraged, and kept reworking and refining my material to satisfyingly become the club's headliner when I made my comeback two years later.
My early routine comprised mainly of impressions and along with the positive feedback I was receiving I took the brave step of moving to Los Angeles in 1979. The Comedy Store soon had me on the bill and I found myself spotted by Rodney Dangerfield who booked me to be his support act, leading to Vegas gigs. During this period I called my parents to move in from Canada to the U.S. I knew things had to change and above all I realized I wanted to make people laugh and headed back to the comedy circuit, began to explore new material, often bombing in front of the audience but never giving up. However with less money and with no option I was forced to ask my parents to leave, Therein followed a bleak period in my life. During this time I wrote myself the now legendary cheque for $10 million for services rendered.
My personal life however looked more promising. In 1986 I met an actress Melissa Womer at the Comedy Store where she was waitressing, fell in love and married her a year later, shortly followed by the birth of my daughter, Jane. I was no longer a single man; I had a family to think of.
I had already taken part in small budget movies before I married Melissa. Other movies began to filter through soon after, "Finders Keepers", "Once Bitten", "Peggy Sue Got Married", "The Dead Pool", "Pink Cadillac" and "Mike Hammer: Murder Takes All" then came "Earth Girls are Easy". Despite being an unimpressive movie I managed to make an impression on co-star Damon Wayans who recommended me to meet his brother for a new show "In Living Color".
This was to be his big chance. The role led to my Unnatural Act in 1991 and led to a role in Fox's Emmy nominated TV film "Doing Time on Maple Drive". A serious role in which I played a young man with a serious drinking problem, it showcased my straight acting talents but I continued with "In Living Color", sticking with comedy.
I was able to push boundaries and test audience reactions and across the industry I was receiving attention and acclaim, which lead to my first blockbuster in 1994.
 During my bleak period I had written myself a cheque for $10 million, which I kept in my wallet. I was given that amount when I signed a film in 1996, the cheque which I had in my wallet all the time I poignantly placed in his father’s pocket at his funeral. I am James Eugene Carrey, known famously as Jim Carrey, the 94 movie is called Ace Ventura and the 96 movie is called The Cable Guy.









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Sites from where the information is taken:
1.    http://www.imdb.com
2.    http://www.jimcarreyonline.com
3.    http://www.aceshowbiz.com

The Curtained Love

She comes over to my store, yashmak (burkha) clad every three days. I could only view her eyes. She gets to the imagination of every person she speaks or even looks at. With long eyelashes and pitch black eyes, she casts a spell among all boys, and I am no exception. She is fair as snow, and applies thick, heavy kohl around her eyes; she looks stunning. I was blown away the moment I saw her. She was beautiful and shyness added that extra mile to her gorgeousness. The instance, I first saw her is still vivid and glorified in my memory. She is Yasmin.
She stays in a bungalow across the street. She is a daughter of a Biryani outlet owner, a wealthy man indeed. She has two brothers, one elder and another younger. The elder brother Yusuf is married to a rich man’s daughter and stays in foreign lands. The younger brother Asfaque has just hit adolescence. She comes to my store with Asfaque, every time to take paan (betel plant) for her grandmother.
It was easy for me to fall for her. She is attractive not only by looks but also by nature. She speaks with ultimate calm and serene voice. Although being from a rich family, she never let the riches arrogant her nature. She is humble towards all the people she speaks to. She has her brother as company when she comes to my store, well actually it was not my store, and I work here. I like to call it my store, not because it makes me feel rich but I love to work here. The owner is a kind hearted man who had given me a chance to work and earn a living. Little did he know that I was love struck and mesmerized by the charm of Yasmin.
It had been a year; I watched her come over to my store and ask for the regular paan. Although one year is a long time to get accustomed to anybody, but, for her I am just an acquaintance; I still blush and turn red when she approaches me. Let alone the feeling when she accidently touches me. The moment she appears, I feel the time freeze. The scene lasts for only two minutes, but I always feel it is more. I wanted to speak to her, in order to extend the precious moments and prolong her stay, but resented on most occasions. There are thousand thoughts that cross my mind- what if she rubbishes me off? What if she abuses me? No she couldn’t abuse, she is much better than that. I was clouded by such thoughts and always postponed my assignment.
I look myself at the mirror every day and think about the improvements I can make to make my entire package, make it worthy or notable. Finally I give up that argument too, when I hear John Abraham on the television quote “Money makes you look good.”
Approaching a girl of your dreams is no joke; I don’t know how people do it. Maybe that is one of the reason people say Love happens only once. It is a herculean task when the girl is pretty and rich and the boy, poor. Moreover, I had no friends whom I could talk to, no one who is an old hand and could guide me through my misery. Adolescent love is so restless and relentless; it eats your head and time. It will always provoke you to focus only on it. The worst part is boys will be impatient and will be in a hurry to propose and get into a relationship. Noteworthy, I had less time too.
Almost the Day: She came in with the usual fragrance and charm. Without any reluctance I prepared her regular paan. She paid me the money. I looked on for motivation and finally, I mustered all the strength and approached her. I wanted to ask if she had a boy friend, lame, as it may sound but I had decided that was the way to go about things. I opened my mouth only to ask “would you like candies? I don’t have change.” I chided myself many times, while she gleefully accepted. I gave her an extra piece from my side. She didn’t know about my small gift. One step at a time I thought. She took all except one and said “This one is for you.” Every time I am blown away, but this time, I am cloud nine with her gesture. I kept the candy under my pillow from harm’s way, my treasured possession- a candy.
The next day I thank her for her gesture, she acknowledges and smiles. I want to see her smile. I am sure it will adorn her and make her more beautiful, but to my misery I only see her eyes. We speak sometimes about general things, some regarding her brother and some about her family and sometimes about my family. She is innocent of my intentions. I still remember the day when she had asked my name. I think I am progressing, from no one to my name, it means a lot to me.
Time passed by faster after that, we spoke often and it took more than four minutes. One day she told me that she likes to talk to me, and left. I was flabbergasted. She had touched the soft spot in my heart and I very well knew that the time had come. I thought I was making amends and it was time for me to strike the iron while it is hot. It seems like a fairy tale, rich man’s girl and a worker at a store falling in love. I am afraid at times, because her family is respected and well known. My employer will throw me out of this job as soon as he gets the news. Little things bother most, and this prevented me from approaching her. I had my family to support too, but the moment I think of her, all the sense flies out of the window. I keep falling for her, building castles in the air. I see her fading from my sight as I once again postpone my execution.
I am content with my behavior towards her; she is unaware and happy too. This could not go on for long if I have to transform the castles into a fine house. I preferred to wait, but I did not know how long.
The Day:  She turned up as always in her black yashmak with her brother. Her brother had locked hands with her. She asks for her regular stuff. I start the preparation and look at her at frequent, immediate intervals. She looks beautiful as ever. I am ready with the paan, she hands me the exact amount and turns to leave. Suddenly, I feel my life was going away from me. I wanted to stop her, tell her all that I had in my mind. In the mean time she had moved a good distance away from the store. I panic and grow restless, and finally in desperation I call out her name. She turns back without reluctance.
I approach her out of breath. I think again, whether to postpone or go for it. She looks on for me to say. I look in her eyes and open my mouth. I tell her how crazily I am in love with her, and although monetarily I am not competent enough yet, I promise to keep her happy. I tell her about how she had impacted my heart and if she gives me a chance I will keep her happy. Her eyes look at me in disputation. She then turns towards her brother who was a witness to my confession. Finally, she gazes at all the people around. She says nothing. She then turns to her brother and leaves me without a reply. I call her again, but this time she didn’t turn back. Her brother looked at me all the while; maybe he would understand my feelings. Already people were watching us and it is not good for her to talk to me in public. I felt assured that, that was the reason and she would reply me on her next visit.
She didn’t turn up for a couple of weeks, and I thought that was her answer. Day in and day out I had imagined her coming to my store and replying me or rather accepting my proposal. The feeling had left me happy at first, but slowly it turned into a nonsensical and fictitious.  Maybe she is upset at what I had said. Maybe I am not worthy of such a human being. Too many maybes crowded my brain. I was baffled, and didn’t know my next step. I thought about it for days and felt reckless. The mind can be fascinating at times and at times it can be haunting. I felt no good. I am now lazy in my work and often forget the things I have to do.
My boss decided to fire me seeing my ignorance at work. It cost him money, but I am concerned with my life. I had to return to my village in four days. On my finals days of work suddenly, I spotted her. She is with her brother as usual. The street is rather crowded as it is evening. I give no second thoughts, and walk to approach her.
 Her bungalow was close by, all the people knew her, because of her father’s stature. I pay no attention to them as I want my answer. I was not been feeling well, I lost focus on my work, I forgot how to smile and most importantly I forgot how to live. I walk over to her; I want to know the reason why I was discarded. She tells me to go away and never show my face and left. She was definite with her answer. I felt awestruck at her answer while she left. I spoke to no one. I felt I had committed a crime by breaking her heart.
I walked alone back to my room, desolate and shattered. Time could be a great healer; I just needed some time so that I could continue with my regular life. Difficult times are hard to pass, but they will pass eventually. I reach my room, lock the door and crawl into bed. I keep thinking about the incident in the market. It was agonizing. It still is. I close my eyes but the thoughts still chase me. I wanted to get away from this world, take a holiday or spend some time with my family. I think over and over again. I wake up look beyond the window. I spot a bar. What a view? It suits the occasion fine. Finally to get over my wretchedness I walk over to the local bar.
In the Bar: It is crowded and each one is busy drinking their stuff. I take a sip. The taste is bitter, as it is my first time. Nothing happens in the first two pegs. After a couple more, my head started spinning, and it gets me tripping. I can’t even walk the fine line, and struggle for an erect posture. There is something about drinking I feel, when you have a little- you stay a human. When you have little more- you turn into a tiger, pretend to be a renegade, raging and hostile. This can be troublesome for both- the drunkard and the one who gets into an argument with him. Well, a little more than that a man turns into a pig, falling in every pit and on every bend. I leave the bar at nine in the evening, like a pig, too drunk to sense anything. I slowly make my way back home. My room was not far away, just a small bridge and a bend to cross. I was in high spirits; the liquor in me was influencing my thoughts as well as my control. Slowly and steadily, I make it to the bridge. The cool wind blowing feels nice. I felt a sudden urge to get some more air. With boisterous heart and thoughts I climb the railing. I stand in akimbo. Bah! Forget all the things that happened, I will lead a good life now, it feels great. But, deep down I missed her, I knew that this enthusiasm is out of anger and not motivation. I outstretch my arms and feel the wind. I then close my eyes and feel much better.
Hello, he said what are you doing here? Come down or else you will fall. I heard these words but choose to ignore. He then shook my legs. I get startled and yet, try to control my posture. Within seconds I am moving uncontrollably and take a fall, but on the wrong side. It was a bridge but no water flowed under. It had dried a long time back. I could not make out the face of the man who tried to save me. I cry out loud Yasmin, and strike the ground with a great thud. My head bangs on the hard surface which consisted mainly of stones. Blood gushes out perpetually, I feel the pain but only for few seconds, I think my neck and skull both were broken. I lay there immovable. I try to figure out the person on the bridge and close my eyes for the last time.
My soul left the body and my call from heaven had come. Perhaps I had done some good deeds to get a call from heaven. But,  a soul only leaves the earth after the list rituals are performed. I wept like a small kid, I felt bad for my family. They would definitely miss me. My body was recovered from the stench within an hour (thanks to the man responsible).
My body was cleansed and kept in my employer’s house. It reeked of alcohol. My family had arrived and they were in tears. I felt like returning back to life, but it cannot be. It was ten in the morning and it was time. They carried me to the cemetery. A grave was already dug, all people had gathered who knew me, but I waited for Yasmin.
Yasmin, on seeing the shop closed inquired to few people. She got the news that was related to them by the man on the bridge. Apparently, when I called out Yasmin, he heard it. When people questioned him regarding the incident he said, I jumped off the bridge and committed suicide. Before I jumped he heard me shouting Yasmin, I love you. Plain and simple, he got away without a trial; he as well as I knew that it was an accident. Neither he nor I were to be blamed. But, when I heard the story I felt bad, because it made me weak. I was ready to accept a new life, but a false story gave entirely a different picture.
Everybody watched each other; finally the time for my cremation had come and the time my soul was to be taken to heaven. When my body was lifted to be buried, everyone heard a loud cry. Yasmin had come, it was against the customs for a girl to attend funerals, but no one could stop her. She came in running and out of breath. My body was still in air; she dropped on her knees and cried. She was warned that the time had come for me to go. She cried and asked for few seconds of time. All men grumble among themselves. I was watching my Yasmin. She lifted her veil, showed her face and with tears in her eyes said, I Love you too! The next moment she was pushed aside and I was buried. My soul got the signal from God for heavenly aboard, I cursed myself “Kal jab main usse pyar karta tha, tab wo parde me thi; aur aaj jab wo mujhe pyar karti hai to main parde me hu.” (When I loved her yesterday she was in a veil, and when she loves me today I am draped).