Dil Dhadakne Do: The World Beyond The Façade

The film opens with the daughter of a wealthy Punjabi couple, miffed by the fact that her name was not on her parent’s twenty-fifth anniversary invitation. The kind of thing that should annoy the fuck out of the daughter, given the world she and her family comes from. From the point go we are told it is a story about ‘Richie Rich’ style children, and their parents, the creators of the kind of world they all now inhibit. And the broader, yet really minuscule society, they belong to. At the heart of it, the film is on the breakdown of a family’s relations, just to keep up with the social pretentious facade they have built around themselves. A satire based around parents treating their children as trade-able assets - of the kind one builds business partnerships and empires around. And the very conflicted response to that by their children – young adults, who are conformists and rebels in equal measure.
Zoya’s craft is innovative by half a step, to say the least. As she directs a tale in familiar Bollywood’s ever so grand fashion, there is a multitude of layers to watch out for. The characters etched out are stereotypical to the extent the north Indian wealthy folks are expected to be, but at the same time minutely subverting the norms of the ‘elite club like’ culture they are drawn from. The film invites its audience to ponder over the heavily paradox and hypocrisy laden lives the characters live - something Zoya to her credit, has added a great deal of nuance to. Even the ‘voice over’ is not used as a tool to forward the narrative but throw light on characters and their relations. There is some fine editing skill at display, especially the use of transitions to end awkward conversations or scenes. There is no time wasted in actually saying out-loud, what is al ready being shown on screen. It is because of these craft elements the film comes across way more subversive than the formulaic Bollywood style - surface level feel of the movie. With heavy use of following shots - the camera movement highlights Zoya’s unapologetic interest in showcasing the grandeur on display. And she makes sure that at no point the characters make a departure from the world they are from. Some sequences with a lizard on the wall style camerawork make you feel the director has matured a fair deal in just the span of three movies. What emerges is a craft that is very Hindi cinema like, yet so much more watchable than many of its contemporary counterparts. Though the film could have done with less use of close-ups and trimming the screen-time given to songs, which rarely add to narrative progression.
This is a movie likely to boast a very high grade on average cast performance, even though some characters excel more than others. Priyanka Chopra displays control in a fashion that she single handedly makes the film so much more watchable. There is a fair amount to appreciate in Anil Kapoor and Ranvir Singh’s performances - who come across as refreshingly natural. The weakest link in the film has to be its dialogues, penned by Farhan Akahtar, which make you cringe a little in your seat, every now and then. But the most satisfying takeaway from the film is seeing a director grow up, and you cannot help but ask, what will she produce when she finally decides to give up the tools of popular commercial filmmaking, and just be left to her plain observational elements?

Election Prime Time

20/01/15

There could be so much going on during the last phase of an Indian election, it is like watching a mega saga with a trajectory of narratives. Or so it seems like on news television. But there are few thrills like a Sunday afternoon of post election analysis, of just about any Indian election. That's where most of the fun and well, some clarity is. 2013 December poll results for Delhi assembly were no different. While some cheered for transitions of agitators to legislators. Some could not stop giggling, in anticipation for the last run of the empire, almost on it's way to fall apart. But for AAP, that victory somewhat provided a reconciliation to the three year long movement in and with this system.

And about a year later, Delhi election becomes fascinating not just because, it can claim to be a city that hosts a real diverse mix of people. And evidently their clear preferences (even undecided) about their political choices. But because somewhat of the timing of the election and somewhat because of the range of actors and non actors you see in this election; for whom Kejriwal's fate in this election might matter as much. Be it Lalu-Nitish and Mulayam, or Mamta, Left and Mayawati, they all would be keen to know that can the winning momentum of Sangh backed, Modi-Shah lead - style of campaigns be stopped at this stage, by a substantially different kind of campaign by AAP, and the latter's  lose monopoly over setting the agenda. And to that extent BJP gives it to AAP, and brings in a 'clean' administrator for it's CM candidate. Who comes from the same Delhi - Anna and Co. milieu.

I would see that as a first major shift  in BJP's electoral policy stance, since Modi took office. Where they pick a CM candidate before the election, setting their own already struggling Delhi party on fire. Another first is that Modi and his governance-development lead campaign won't be the focal point in an election they are contesting after May 16th last year. And seems like Modi doesn't want to indulge in anything that remotely lowers his popularity - with Obama visiting and ah, the Budget Session. (And what if a PDP-BJP alliance announcement might be just round the corner?).

I hope to see some Modi-Bedi rallies before the election, and BJP would fiercely try to establish Bedi as a stronghold enough, who can talk of improving government functioning and delivery. Believing that her ultra strong 'policewala' image would be in line with the strong administrator CM image, BJP wants to reflect. It's totally Bedi's game, in how she understands the nuances of being in BJP politics, and putting that to use in this seemingly AAP-ised environment. It comes across she has tirelessly studied Modi and his rhetoric conduct, and news tv will make it look like - "How to be a leader in 2 weeks."

If BJP manages to get a majority, it would  establish the credibility of Shah to have demonstrated to his critics inside the BJP and Sangh, about his ability to experiment and still win. While if AAP pulls out a stunner, (demonstrating a clear majority gallery of AAP supporters and their empirical thrust behind sadak-bijli-pani issues) and still falls short of a majority, 10 Janpath would be closely watching those possibilities. But for the major Delhi middle class, the aspiration vs our 'pressing needs reliever' narrative will be the major debating point.

 With more than three years of political agitation and instability, Delhi seems to have taken a toll. The spectator outside the fence is as curious about the results as some of the players. If pollsters may seem to demonstrate cluelessness, then this election could be a fun case study. Both AAP and BJP want to test their constituencies - both vastly different.  If some in BJP would be seeing it as a referendum on Modi's time in office, some in AAP still believe that that major chunks of our populations, "desolate from that kind of fluid wealth distribution, will consolidate". With all that AAP is, Nitish would take lessons from the fate of Kejriwal.

The Delhi 2013 Vidhan Sabha's election aftermath is such that the political repercussions of the 2015 February elections, have become a referee call on the arrival of another regional party in North India. While in the other camp - "It's the first time I am cooking without doing my own grocery." Oh how much we miss the good old anti-incumbency. Whatever may be the results, Delhi and it's politics will continue to resonate the feel of 'post agitation ground days' for a while.

Unki Diwali

Woh bazaar ki aakiri gali ke peeche
Basti ek uss pehle kachche ghar mein
roshni lagi thi
Din bhar gol dabbe mein gol gol laddu rakh
Us halwai se poch lena
 aaj raat ghar kahan jayega?
Koi savaari chodte chodte
raat na jaane kis nashe mein guzar dega
Woh maikhana aaj bhi khulega
Raddi wale se yeh light khareed kar laga dena
Yeh jagmagati raat
naa jaane kitno ko naagavar guzregi
Aaj sheher mein woh Diwali mana rahe hain

-srijan 23/10/14

Saffron got Cool

3 am, sitting outside a roadside maggi/cigarette stall with a friend. Mild winter hue in the air, half torn, giant dark orange coloured trucks passing by. Neon-marked hoardings of a local private engineering college, simmering with rain washed roads. The Grant Trunk Road. 

I shout from the passenger seat right out of the window, 

"yaar ek mild lao.."

My friend half annoyed, "abey yaar.. mild mat piyo yaar.. doo regular lao"

sanjay, the stall owner, giggling, asked, "aur kuch chahiye bhaiya..?"

"bass yaar.. aur sunao? kya haal..?"

"wahi sab.. Akhilesh ko aana thaa, toh iss chakkar mein sadak ki saari dukaane hata di.. mera bhi bohot saaman barbaad ho gaya..!", Sanjay exclaimed in a depressingly low tone.

"parr woh toy aaya hi nahi naa?…", I remarked. 

"nahi aaya bey.. saala pura sheher sajaa tha uske liye aisa lag raha thaa.. parr aaya hi nahi.."

"kyon nahi aaya..?"

"..yahi toh baat hai bhai.. sapa hai.. kuch bhi karo.. madame ne mana kar diya hoga.."

"… haah.. aur master...kiske liye vote karoge iss baar?"

"modi bhaiiya.."

"aaahaaa… iss baar modi bhaiyya ki sarkar banegi.."

"… haan bhaiyya.. modi bhaiyya ko aane do… ab doo daam liya karunga maggi ke.. 25 aur unke liye 35…"

"….abey mama log aa gaye..(a respectful reference for police men)"

Sanjay, a 16-17 year old maggi/cigarette seller. A popular over night place for medical college students and local car drifting insomniacs. Police jeeps on patrolling duty during night hours, stop often. Eating for free, not missing a chance to ruffle them up once in a while. Sanjay has to tip them off a little then and now, and he gets to keep his stall. Recently two zonal cops put him behind the lock up for two days. He told us, he was using a stolen phone, that recently one his regular late night customers had sold it to him. That guy has not shown up since then. 

Sanjay works all through the night, making endless maggi and bun-omlettes. His entire family works at his stall. Father attends to the customers that park right in front of the stall, and prefer the service in the car. Mother taking care of the cigarette 'gumti' stall, while simultaneously taking care of boiling tea on the little stove. The above mentioned conversation took place in late september, last year. The family moved from Banaras to Kanpur three years ago, and came to echo the surging ground swell for the BJP's Prime Ministerial candidate, Narendra Modi. But much before this kind of ground support for Modi could be witnessed on the streets in the Hindi heartland, BJP's district units were tirelessly at work. 

Having stayed in Kanpur for 18 long years, my idea of Ganesh Chaturthi was limited to its dramatic representation in movies and soaps coming out of Bombay. This year, the narrative was testify-ably different. On the day of the festival, the entire city was blocked by hundreds of processions moving towards the banks of Ganga. Every corner street was marked by a separate group of men and women, carrying their own little 'Ganesha.' The city traffic was brought to a stand still. Most of these processions were marked by a fringe of young men, raging to Salman Khanised DJ music, throwing colours on anybody and everybody as they went along. 

How in this world a Maharashtrian festival become so popular up here, in this interior Uttar Pradesh hinterland? It's not that surprising an avenue in today's world, given how a 'Spanish Tomato Festival' became a regular event in Bangalore, after being featured in a popular Hindi movie. But these many people celebrating Ganesh Chaturthi? Hundreds of them, all over the city. Stopping by a little cluster of mud walled houses, 'gulaal' drenched men sat outside their houses. While talking to some of them, one of them indicated, "money had been given out, for them to arrange for all the festivities. Lots of money, in lots of different 'bastis'. It is an Hindu festival after all…" 

Talking to another group of rather excited young men, while they danced freestyle to ear drum destroying, swanky tunes, coming out of rented speakers. As their procession moved ahead, blocking one of the centre crossroads of the city, I managed to hang onto three of them. Half interested in my questions, one told me, "it is Hindu power show… our time is coming. Modi will come this time." 

Profane slogans, addressing to the rabid lovers of Hindutva, could be found painted on discreet corners. I found some deeply provocative ones, painted all across the walls of 'Shamshan Ghat', a river side cremation place for Hindus. Just almost a month after the Muzaffarnagar riots, the social fabric of the city was not at its best. Kanpur, like many other UP cities, has had a distressing history of communal violence. Though, no signs of violence were reported as of yet, Kanpur, much like other UP cities, was making a case of top down polarization. 

I visited Kanpur again during my winter break, by the end of December. The momentum seemed to have changed a bit. Roadside conversations with BJP supporting men, were way more Modi centric. Unsaid communal tensions had subsided, and the popular discussions featured Arvind Kejriwal as much as Modi, if not more. Talking to a local BJP MLA, who then, was a probable for getting the Lok Sabha ticket from Kanpur. He told me, it is going to be tight. The muslims will vote for the incumbent Shriprakash Jaiswal. Accusing the latter of bribing Mayawati in 2009. When Mayawati, replaced the local BSP candidate, a popular Muslim leader. Resulting in an almost complete swing of Muslim votes towards Congress. Kalraj Mishra was strongly rumoured to be the other candidate, who could be given the ticket to contest from Kanpur. The earlier mentioned BJP MLA remarked to me, "He is also asking the party for the ticket. Lets see. He's not a real people's leader."

By almost end of March, Modi was finalized to contest from Banaras. Murli Manohar Joshi, having to making way for Modi in Banaras, was asked to contest from Kanpur. Early on, in his campaign in Kanpur, Joshi was greeted with protests from factions of local BJP men. There was a certain dissentment being reported from Kanpur, relating to the non local nature of Joshi, topped with his image of a non performing Member of Parliament. Though, many supporters believed, candidate was a non issue. 'People are going to vote for just Modi.' And Joshi was a prestigious candidate, they said, inflating their sense of city-hood pride. With Shriprakash Jaiswal and M.M. Joshi, it was set to be one of the most anticipated contests. 

Just as Kanpur was about three weeks from polling, fresh communal violence erupted on the occasion of Ram-Navmi. Strange events, strange happenings. March 16th will tell, if Kanpur accepts a migrant candidate from Banaras, Joshi, much like a migrant Sanjay. 

Hua tha kuch kal

Aankh khuli toh dustak par akhbar roll hua pada tha

Utha kar dekha

bayaan-e-haal kuch ajeeb hi lag raha tha

Meri kachchi neend ke sapne, 
surkhiyon ki tarah pehle panne pe bikhre thay..

Halki halki si hawa kati ghaas se khelti, 
thand ka aaghas kar rahi thi

Pichli raat ki baarish ki narmi
abhi bhi akhbar ke panno mein mehsus ho rahi 

Yeh bhari sardi mein bhi baarish hoti hai bhala?

Panne palte, chai chadhai

Raat ki bchi aadhi cigarette ash tray se utha kar

Stove ki daabi aanch se jala hi raha tha

Ki nazar 4th page ke gumshuda column pe chapi meri photo par gai..

Abhi toh nahi mra hoon main yaar..

Ek kash liya,

Hawa mei dhuien se bante shape ko dekh hi raha tha

Ki yaad aaya..

Kuch hua tha kal raat ko shaayad..

Patthar chale thay chowk pe

Saham gaya tha sabb kuch minto ke liye

Jaise pata nahi kitne barson ki aag chupa kar rakhi ho

Aur taash ki ek chaal ki tarah,

kisi ne ek hi baar mei saara daanv chal diya ho

Hua tha kuch kal shaayad
aag bhadki dono taraf se
humle hue, ghar toode
raakh ka dhuan baadal ki tarah chaa raha tha.. 

Tasveerien dhundli dhundli si hain

Ek badnaseeb patthar ka impression abhi bhi hai sir parr..

Uffff...

Pata nahi kya hua tha

Kisne kiya tha..

Humein kya pata..

Yeh sapne aur reality ke beech banta mera never-ending illusion..

Oh Kanpur!

"Yahan sab maalik hai bhaiya, 

apni marzi ke maalik"

"Sholay picture mein asli maut kiski hui thi?

Ek cheeti ki, gabbar kuchle thee usko"

"Woh nahi khaali chillum, 

usmein toh kapde ka sauda hai 

yahan toh.."

It's these ambiguous bizarre conversations, that would make up the most of my time in Kanpur. As time passes by, and I'm no more living there for most part of the year, it's these remaining-faded conversations in my head that make up my my relationship with my city. Even after spending hours talking about Kanpur with friends and folks from the city, I still struggle to make some definitive sense of the place. But I tend to enjoy that. I can get up and think of it as the financial capital of the most fucked up Indian state or on some days the most underrated Indian city or if nothing, definitely the maddest North Indian city, but well mostly, Kanpur feels like a live movie, where I'm a part of it too, playing my own character everyday. And the movie keeps evolving! Abnormal becomes normal, or maybe it's just me, looking for these things. A struggling city post the closing down of textile mills or a city post the economic and telecom revolution, from scores of out of work mill workers to a maggi-wala playing angry birds on his tab. You can look for your Kanpur depending on your ease. It might seem like any other mid size city, where collective dreams are more than collective resources, a deficit that will never cease to exist. But beyond the industrial, political or even the foodie Kanpur, there exists another Kanpur. A city with all its eccentricities, its pride, its norms, its failures, its patriarchies, its divide, way more loving - way more absurd!

Just for fun! 

 

evolving mind

main kehta hoon tum sab saale fickle ho

moment-moment pein dimaag badalte ho

phir kisi ne mujhe shisha dikha diya

tab se evolving mind ki baatien propagate karta hoon

Daybreak

dekhte dekhte daybreak ho gaya
aur meri cigarette ka packet khatam

ekdum se realize kiya 

sarr ke upar wali teen par pani gir raha tha

bahar dekha toh baarish nahi dekhi

thoda aur dhyaan se dekha to street light ke pass kuch boodien dikhi

chalo acha hai

iss dawn aur dusk ki duniya mein koi toh obvious pe light daal raha hai 

woh din bhi thee

woh din bhi thee
yeh din bhi hai
kishore ne kaha hai na
zindagi ke safar mei guzar jaate hai joh makam, 
phir nahi aate
aana jaana toh laga rehta hai
zyada phikr mat kariyega 
bass ek aas reh hati hai
yeh aas bhi meri nahi
raat din kahin na kahin bhaaga karti hai
mujhe saath liye jaati hai
unn galiyon mei phir chala jaata hoon
jaate jaate mera mann ek second rukta hai 
puchta hai
who chai ki dukaan abhi bhi wahan?
who kabhi cheeni paani ke saath nahi daalte thee..
kya pata.. ab toh bhaiya ki dukaan mei pouch wali chai milti hai
chalte chalte uss mod tak chala jaata hoon
zara ek saans chut jaati hai
aaj bhi dhadhkan ruk jaati hai sooch kar
kahin tum toh nahi nikal aaogi wahan se?
yeh pagal khayal bhi.. kuch nahi samjhte..
baas ek aas aur chodh jaate hai..
ha ha ha ha ha
bhujhi cigarette jala kar 
ek kash aur leta hoon
dhuei ke saath apne khayal bhi pee jaata hoon
woh din bhi thee
yeh din bhi hai.... 

Smiling at the face of tragedy!

Smiling at the face of tragedy
It doesn't matter
Like it never did
It's just one block of infinity gliding through heaven and hell
You're there
But you still aren't
Everything has a time
It's all been done before
It's all going to be done again
We're fleeting mirrors to our times
Strangers in our own houses
It's funny
I laugh it off
The fear creeps in
I cry
Tears dripping through those smirking lips
I hear a shout
They're here
I run
There comes a hall
Mirrors
Endless mirrors
Reflecting, retracting, retracing
I scream of joy
I'm the centre
They come running behind too
Shoots.. bang! bang! bang!
I jump
A bullet missed
Mirror down to crumbs
It's just me and you now
My guardian greatness dies
I run
You chase
We keep running
A lady on the track
Eyes meet
I slip through that one flip of your eyes
On point blank
Comes the bullet and what..
It passes through
And I sit there smiling at my own tragedy....

Late night paranoia!

Dope unsettles. Well, a doped out romantic would say, only to settle you again. But has anyone ever settled? Fighting with these rather ambiguous thoughts, I stood there at the Kanpur Central. Shit was getting too messy. This can't go on. No I wasn't going to jump on a train, backout of the station. Standing at a pan ki dukkan, at late hours, smoking classic milds. Nothing articulates urban youths misery better than the smoke of milds. So there I was, it was about time for namaaz, with some smakiyas passing around. We started conversing with a young haryanvi baba cut man, a proud owner of a chillum. Smoking ganja, little by little, sitting almost on the centre of the street, right across the main station entrance. How does one not love this country? Anyway, we start talking. I don't remember much of what he said, but didn't seem to be much curious to talk to us. Why would a guy slightly older than me, who now wears an orange costume on a daily basis take me seriously? He'd not shaved for almost a year, where I was just modestly three weeks unshaven. But he did say something, that stayed with me. When we offered him a joint, he refused saying, "yahan toh nanga milta hai, usme toh kapde ka sauda hai."
"Waah waah.. Waaaaah kya baat hai" unanimous applaud. A friend sneakily whispers, senior hai bey. Sipping one of the most disgusting teas of my life, lost in that moment we all laugh. The laugh doesn't stop, but the pretension starts to shatter. "Why am I playing along? This isn't really taking me anywhere? What the fuck am I doing here right now?" As the thoughts keep getting more fierce, I take another drag. "Yes my friend, we do seem to have a bit of a problem here. what do I really do? I mean what can anyone really do anyway? I mean I know I'm way better than those million rags out there, but still? It's huge, it's fucking huge. How do you release yourself from the burden of normalcy? How do you convince yourself to be some weird cracko doing his own thing, when you've basically played safe all your life? Or wait.. What if I was just unconsciously always doing my own thing, while still being looked as normal? So is it about me or the world? Fuck it, I don't know." I call out for my friends. Walking to the pan wala, he already has my cigarettes ready. What a bitch of a beautiful man! A middle aged muslim man, with hyper interesting opinions. His story, well for some other day. But we were all seated there along the footpath, half doped out. My friends knew I was off, they knew not meddling right now is a wiser choice. "Ek story sunoge?" I decide to tell them a story I wrote. I start, I'm slightly shaky. The namaz seems to have started, it's growing louder. The fading street voices start mingling with my own. My voice slowly seems to be getting in sync with squeaky noises from road rags. I keep going. I have introduced my characters. I can see it all moving, I see it fly my side. Five minutes into the narration, I'm not even narrating anymore. The story is narrating itself. I'm just speaking. Just mere recitation. I don't know where this is coming from. The namaz giving the natural background score, bringing in the ever flowing unease. I'm sitting there, speaking. Speaking non stop, reaching my last lines, grinningly describing the dying sequence of my protagonist. As he takes that bullet on his chest with an ecstatic smile! Ufff. The train starts moving, moves out.. As if the train driver knew exactly when to give me that fading sound. I sit there stunned. I'm quiet. Quiet for next good thirty seconds. Friends, full excited for me. I knew what had happened. I knew it. I couldn't say it out loud, but I knew it. I knew that even though I had written that story, I was way smaller than that story. It's always that way. By the time I finished narrating, I knew I had fallen in love again with the most glorious job of all human existence. Stories. Fucking stories, if it wasn't for stories, I wouldn't be who I am. Forget me, if there were no stories, we'd have stopped living way before. Fear is a little part of the bigger excitement. I'll learn to fight it. I'll grow up. It'll pass. But all that matters is, something is happening. I feel it, but that's all I can say about it.
"Bhaiya ek classic mild aur milegi..."

"Jeevan se hai maut sasti"

Doono ek saath mare

Ek mahal mein

ek mahal ke bahar naale mein 

Mahal wale chilla pade

Woh bata ke gaye the.. 

Mai marunga toh 1 biga zameen mein hi gadunga

Par kaise? 

Pata nahi par hoga toh wahi 

Do hisse hogaye

Dono taraf se lad pade

Ek bola kaat de

Dusra bola kaat ke faila de

Kya baat ki hai

Aaj woh hote toh tumhe inaam dete

Sab mann gaye 

Kato kato kato

Kisne kahan marne ke baad yeh sab nahi rehta? 

Jaldi kato 

Tezi se kaato

Hum sachchi praja hai

Utee mein mahal wali laash zor se hil kar gir padi

Sab chauke

Pucha gaya toh pata chala usi samay naale wali laash bhi hili thi

Ek bachcha bol raha tha

Dono bade khush they

Kuch samjha rahe thee woh usko

Hass hass kar ke bol rahe thee 

Kuch kaatne ke wajood ki baat kar rahe thee..

Pata nahi

Aaj puri kheer milegi mandir mei?

Chalo sab wahi milenge... 

When Tagore Shot Me Down

Where the mind is without fear

in the weeping hours of faded dope

a sly smile will kill you

as the passionless breasts lose out taste

and the blurry stream of reason

falls victim to my molly pride

we fall in love with the mundane rot

where the heads are held high 

and the men are sold for free

when the existential awakening reaches its zenith

bullets are traded for thought

because thoughts don't come free

the world has been united by those erratic hollow bellies 

where the mind is lead forward by thee

into the sanguine arms of death 

into that heaven of misery

my darling, let my country awake !   

Ek raasta, ek cigarette

hum sab bus chalte jaa rahe hain

kahan aur kidhar

deepak chopra ke sivay kisi ko nahi pata

sab void lagta hai

kuch karne ka mann nahi karta

parr karien bhi toh kya

koi saala kehta hain purpose dhundho

koi kehta hai hai andhar jhaank

koi kehta hai pyaar kar

hum bhi cigarette peete peete sirr hilate rehte hain

chalte chalte unki baatien meri baatien banti jaati hai

who bada aadmi hai 

sahi hi keh raha hoga

humein kya pata

hum to sadak chap recorder type chutiye hain

samay guzarta rahega

ek din aayega

sab saale ek jaise bann chuke honge

har koi wahi kahega

har koi wahi karega

sab corrupt antaryami honge

shayad uss din yeh chaos resolve ho jaye

tab toh bass iss cigarette ka sahara hai 

~Srijan 

mtl '13 

Why Kashyap cracks Cannes every year?

me - oye sunn, maine ek nai script likhi hai.. i think its angry..very angry.."

she - toh? yaar mere se yeh sab baatien mat karo.. 

me - hah.. how do you not react to what's happening around you?

she - yaaar...

me - did you hear of watertown shootings last night?

she - yaar, kya karna jaan ke, srijan not in a mood right now.. you know i bought a new top..

Why did I start with that? I don't really know. It has nothing to do with what i'm going to write. It's just a little talk, I had with a friend last night. Why doesn't India create great cinema? How is it that in a country of the size of India, the number of really political filmmakers can be counted on finger tips? How does Kashyap manage to get a movie or two into Cannes every year? Why does the discussion end at Dibakar or Bala or Umesh Kulkarni or Q (dare you say Prakash Jha)? In a population of the size of 600 million (ya the other half needs toilets before going out and directing movies), why do we just have a handful of filmmakers who talk about real themes? 

I think there could be one possible reason for all of these questions. How many of you have seen Midnight in Paris? I'm sure, almost everybody. We all love Woody Allen! aah why doesn't Adi Chopra go stay with Allen for a week and learn how to make movies? anyways, what did you think of that movie? A hollywood scriptwriter turned writer, trying to find his voice? Romancing with a Paris, especially of the 20s, helping him come in terms with himself? Thats what I thought too. Somehow, didn't make a lot of sense to me. Anybody who has seen 3-4 movies of Allen, will deny this movie. Not that it's not a superb film, but where did the Woody cynicism go? where did that pessimism, the conflicted nature of oneself and his whimsical idea of love go? Life is short, and I didn't try to figure out, whatever, he perhaps is a happy man now. 

Until recently, when I read this essay on Midnight in Paris, on some film journal website. The writer suggested, that Midnight in Paris was more of a lament than anything. A lament on the glorious artistic days of the past. A bunch of American and European artists, hanging out together, writing, painting, boozing in 'Paari', as they call it. More than anything, the process of Gil Pender getting to hang out with these guys, post midnights, changed him. It's not the city, but whole artistic culture of 20s, which helped him write a profound book and yes, dump his sophisticated yet beautifully artificial girlfriend. Was he really in love with Adriana? Maybe yes, or maybe for the first time he found someone who accepted him with is naiveness. It was that new found courage, that changed him. The courage, he got by hanging around these eccentric and erratic, yet supremely talented beings. What Woody says through Midnight in Paris, is that, that period is past. It's never coming back again, and perhaps, we might not be able to create great art anymore.

This perfectly applies to the Indian cinema. Not that, I know any filmmakers or writers personally, but this culture of creating art and artists coming together doesn't exist. Except the cute chain smoking and bearded, pretentious college goers. The culture where your friends will hail your work one night, only to trash it the next day. Why? Because when they went back to bed, they really looked through it, and could very well next morning say that to your face. Yes, that's how it's supposed to be. In India, I very strongly feel, being an filmmaker (or any kind of artist) is a sort of alienating job. People around you, are so lost being practical (I fucking hate this word, but can't think of another one), that that practicality gets you. The reality doesn't allow, surreality to sneak in. And that's rather fair, because they aren't god damn filmmakers. They've to earn their bread. But for a filmmaker, he needs that community. That community of filmmakers, where you can be discussing movies, each others movies all day long. Adore it, hate it.. but all the way through, be brutally honest about it. What we see here, is a more of solitary creation of good(sometimes) art, spread across the country. But, seldom they all come together. There is no dialogue that happens. Ya, maybe there might be those 5-6 filmmakers who enjoy such relationships, but its far from being a culture.

Having that community, that culture has the potential to change you. If not change, then definitely help you grow as an artist. And artistic growth is what we rarely see in India. The fact, that everybody is just functioning separately, doesn't allow that natural growth to happen. All you're doing is competing with yourself. All these creative dope heads have massive narcissistic tendencies. Oh, get over it. You might be an artist, but you're still a fucking human. And you will function like one. I'm not trying to say that having a community, will change our cinema overnight. it won't But it'll help us leverage our Indian advantage. The advantage of staying in a country as crazy India, and being surrounded by plain bizarre stuff. And somewhere there finding our much needed political voice. And I feel this is something Kashyap realized or accidentally gained. Be it his PFC years or his existing connections with international and Indian filmmakers (as it seems), he somehow has had the luxury of being around people who are into exactly what he's into. I won't say he's India's best filmmaker or any of that crap, but he's definitely the filmmaker, who's growth is most apparent. He probably gets it, he gets why that culture is important. And probably because of this, he's been able to build a filmmaking ecosystem around him.I don't think he does it because he wants to be the Indian Indie flag bearer, as most of the press tags him. He does it, because he knows the value of that system. He probably knows, that it's that brutally informal culture, that nourishes any kind of art form.

As Hemingway tells Gil on why he won't read his book... 

"If it's bad, I'll hate it. If it's good, then I'll be envious and hate it even more. You don't want the opinion of another writer"

...ya that's the only line we heard from that movie.

P.S. Yes, it's a pretentious title. 

That's how you're supposed to make movies!

Studing for midterms is really annoying, so fuck econ, I'd rather do this post. Five movies that changed the way I look at movies, stories, people, events and beyond anything the whole freakin idea of life.

So here you go (in no particular order) -

1. Mean Streets - Martin Scorsese 

"You dont make up for your sins in the Church, you do it in the streets, you do it at home. The rest is all bullshit and you know it."

This is as raw as Scorsese gets. The movie that put Scorsese, De Niro and Harvey Keitel on the map. A gangster drama from the perspective of Harvey, a staunch Catholic who goes through a constant moral conflict. I've yet to come across a movie with stronger written characters. What atmosphere! Brilliant use of music. The scenes in Harvey's bar are pure cinematic orgasms. The beauty of the movies lies in its amazingly sketched characters. It was only after seeing the rough cut of Mean Streets, the producers agreed to back Scorsese on Taxi Driver. And you can't get away without crediting the writer, Mardik Martin. Who later went on to co-write Raging Bull with the Scorsese.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZ7UwnfQ2nA

2. Fa Yeung Nin Wa (In the Mood for Love) - Wong Kar Wai

"Feelings can creep up just like that. I thought I was in control." 

Wong, the chinese grandmaster. His movies are not about plots. They're about urban life, isolation, idleness and those moments, those little moments that change your life forever. Nobody shoots movies better than this Honk Kong auteur does. I saw it twice back to back, just for its cinematography. The movie in itself is a 101 to cinematography. There's a sequence involving the two leads in a hotel room, shot entirely using mirror refections. Just fucking WOW. Story revolves around two people who realize their spouses are having an affair. What do they do? They decide to replicate the affair by role playing. I'm not a fan of love stories, but this along with Jeux d'enfants (Love Me If You Dare) blew me off. This movie is about longing, the reluctance, the hitch in love. Real stuff. Stuff that no one talks about now. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfZbh4cteqI&feature=youtu.be

3. Amores Perros - Alejandro González Iñárritu

"Because we are also what we have lost." 

You thought Tarantino is the master of fractured screenplays? Give this a watch. Mexican director, Inarritu's debut feature. The first part of his death trilogy. I've never seen a movie quite like this before. Three stories, linked together by a car accident. Draws massive metaphors on purpose of life and death. Just the first story, involving street mobsters betting on dog fights is more gruesome than any other movie made in the past decade. Violence never got more raw, yes more than City of God or Gomorrah. It's defintely one of the craziest movies I've ever seen, yet it talks in heaps and bounds. Written by Guillermo Arriaga. I wish someday in future, Inarritu and Arriaga reunite to do make another movie.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qHOkEvrznM

4. Dev. D - Anurag Kashyap

"Tum kisi se bhi pyaar nahi kar sakte, sivaye khud ke. Tumhe na, iss sheeshe se shaadi kar leni chahiye, iss bathroom vale se"

I strongly belive every Indian man is a devdas(love struck sort of loser) by default. We love to sink in sorrow. We relish wasting our lives brooding over that girl, that kicked our arse. Frankly, nowhere else in the world, people are so confused and fucked up when it comes to the idea of love. Kshyap adapts the old awful begali novel, to give us this delight of a trippy movie. Story of a modern day cocaine sniffing (a lot of other shit too) Dev. D set in Paharganj, Delhi, who battles his feeling for his lost love while mating with a 18 year old turned prostitue. Brilliant camera work, and some nuts music by Amit Trivedi. If nothing, then watch it for Kashyap's sly quirck. The first conversation between Dev and Chanda. It doesn't get better!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCXV6fDKTz4

5. There Will Be Bood - Paul Thomas Anderson

 "I hate most people. I look at people and I don't see one thing worth liking." 

Story of a nasty oilman's quest for wealth, his struggles with his son and rising religious dogma. Set in the period of Southern Califronia's oil boom. Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson and the lead played by Daniel Day Lewis, do I need to say more? 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Hp-4pkCfg0

Some other ones-

Blue Velvet - David Lynch 

The master of absurdism at his absurd best. Probably the best movie from 80s. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d0PbwLTLKA4

Casablanca - Michael Curtiz 

All I've to say is - "Here's looking at you, kid" 

And if somebody calls it a plain love story, I'm gonna shoot you bitch! 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&NR=1&v=5kiNJcDG4E0

Midnight in Paris - Woody Allen

Love, nostalgia and Paris. My favorite Woody Allen movie. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwuqNUC3VPw

Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi - Sudhir Mishra

Idealism, politics, love, realities of life, circumstances and growing up. All in the backdrop of  emergency. The best Indian movie of past decade.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-gC9HrUWAE

P.S. I'm still getting into the groove of watching movies. Just a kiddo! And these aren't the best movies I've seen, they just struck me and never left.