Everyone has fantasized about being stalked, at some point. People rarely talk about it but I believe that people think about it, and more importantly, are intrigued by the idea. We hide under our suspicious suppositions, our traditonal upbringings and raise umbrage when we feel that our privacy is being disregarded. But secretly, we are tickled pink whenever we notice that someone is paying more attention to us than is usual, than is appropriate.

Stalking, like anything else, varies in depth. From the simplest to the most complex stalking cases, one can see that there is an evident need for something. It may be the need for information, acceptance, answers. It may be love, jealousy, hatred.

For the more "normal" populace, we accept and understand that we can't choose the people whom we love. Stalkers believe they can.

Now I don't appreciate stalkers. I am not writing this to champion their cause, whatever that may be. But I do recognize the underlying reasons and in a completely warped and sick way, I can sympathize.

My real reason for writing this is to ask you to watch Perfume: The Story of a Murderer. It's a movie that I managed to see earlier this week and I can't get over it, really.

Do try and watch it. I think you can still catch it at Star Movies.

And because it's the weekend, you can try reading this and checking this out.