Phir wahi dil

As I made the bed this morning, loath to waste even five minutes to a mundane job, I played on YouTube the superlative ‘Aawaz deke humein tum bulao’. Just under five minutes and it sucked me into a vortex of nostalgia. 

Movies in India have morphed so much. There are grim, dreary, bleak reflections of society, there are political statements, social statements… always, always pontificating on something or the other; revealing the underbelly of something or the other, taking a stand on something or the other. In a sense, they have all become very masculine: hard, primarily concerned with the outside, with the larger picture; rather than feminine, which is soft, and more about the particular, the subjective and individual experience.

Are we never to see any particular stories about human beings anymore? Or for that matter even a genuine lip-sync song? Have we been embarrassed out of our natural and spontaneous musicals? It seems the only songs that are sung out are those performed on stage, or item songs. The rest are background scores. Am I wrong?

I don’t remember the plot of ‘Professor’ and don’t remember the context for this intensely romantic song set in Raga Shivaranjani. How inspired were Shankar-Jaikishan with this one… the faintly ominous large drum in the beginning, yielding space to the tabla and Lata Mangeshkar’s soaring voice… The song pulls you in, makes you wonder what is up with these two people…
How wonderful would it be if we could have such mellow, romantic stories made with all the wonderful filmmaking techniques and technology we have today!


 

***

I was discussing this with my sister the other day. How is it that OTT platforms, which have mushroomed in such large numbers, have not yet tapped into this wonderful bank of old classics in any language? Where are the Hitchcocks, the Gene Kelly musicals, the b/w favourites? The Shammi Kapoor hits, the Joy Mukherjee must-watches, the Best of Dev Anand, Dilip Kumar, Filmfare awardees of 4-5 decades ago? Where are the Telugu mythologicals and socials? I don’t know about the economics in connection with Hollywood fare, but surely Indian goldies must be low hanging fruit? 

Maybe they'll get there eventually?

Yin-nish

I have been home for a while.
My last travel was in October and that was quite a road trip – a trail from Gwalior to Satna through Chanderi, Orchha, Khajuraho, Panna and Rewa. An immersive, intensive experience of northern Madhya Pradesh. Simply fabulous.

Since then, I've just been home, writing up the stories and... simply being home. Domesticity is a never ending job and I find that the concerns of the domestic life are what you might call choranaptyxic in nature – able to grow or shrink in order to fit available (mind)space. They diminish when I have 'bigger' things on my mind, but grow fairly demanding otherwise. I have taken care of a pile of leaves in the corner of the garden, hosed down a termite mound that was predating on the jasmine climber and I have made plans for the beetroot that are a week old and sitting heavily on my conscience. I am ahead of the curve.

Just the time for this quotidian observation from the Lucknow poet Sushma A. Singh.

winter chill
  I press harder
on the rolling pin

A feminine slice of life. 

About the little things. 

A small detail, a small blip in the pattern with an activity that is repeated perhaps every single day.

It is colder. Even if you have mixed the atta with a little tepid water, the dough is hard. Rolling out the rotis calls for a little extra.

Game on

“I’m in love,” I told Shweta.

“Twentieth time this year!” she said.

It’s true. I’m what they call a dil-phenkh. My heart waits eagerly to find something worthy of worship – and in the world of East Asian drama, there are so many, so many demi-gods.

I’ve stayed for the most part with Korean dramas, but a couple of Taiwanese series, one lovely Thai story and a few Japanese pieces (mostly movies) have made it to my binge list. Chinese dramas, I’ve hitherto steered clear of, simply because of their length. 30 to 60 episodes per story are a bit daunting without strong recommendations.

But the mood came upon me and I watched a movie called Love O2O. Such an intriguing concept for a love story, I quickly devoured it in all its forms – I read the exquisite manhua (still in progress), watched the 30-episode drama version and sought out an English translation of the novel (A Slight Smile is Very Alluring) that all these are based on.

University Days: A frame from the manhua

Love O2O: The drama version

The movie version

[HERE BE SPOILERS – because I’m going to rave about it and don’t know when to stop]

Bei Wei Wei is a computer science student at Qing University, Beijing, who is addicted to an MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game) called Dreams of Jianghu – she’s an ace player and ranked among the top ten gamers in the server. One day, she gets proposed to by the No 1 ranking Yi Xiao Nai He – in the game, of course. They should ‘marry’, he says, to win an upcoming couples’ tournament. She agrees. What follows is an immensely sweet (and yet not cloying) courtship. They battle monsters together in beautiful synchronisation, take down enemies, Yi Xiao Nai He fights some badass duels to protect her honour, they fly across the game landscape on a giant phoenix... and the two find themselves spending a lot of time at the game’s Sunset Point – a beautiful cliff edge overlooking a low sun that never sets, and where players hardly come because there are no monsters here to kill, no experience points to be gained, no missions to accomplish.

Normally not interested in meeting her online friends in person or in outing her gaming identity, Wei Wei is still all a’flutter when he finally suggests they meet. Yi Xiao Nai He turns out to be Xaio Nai – computer geek, hacker, programmer, super achiever and all round University star. They take their online love offline (which explains O2O) and then from a university romance, the story of this Alpha Pair becomes immersed in the mechanics of a new game that Xiao Nai and his team are developing.

Running contrary to every screenwriting formula, the love story has no hiccups, no misunderstandings... just development, development, development. To the last, Wei Wei is Xiao Nai’s most devoted fangirl and while he’s cool, impassive, unruffled in all his dealings, his eyes soften for Wei Wei every time he looks at her. The characters are wonderfully drawn. The leads are very alike: strong, passionate, decent and kind. The support characters, particularly Xiao Nai’s band of boys, are delightful.

Had I come across this seven or eight years ago, I’d have had no time for this post. I’d have been hooked to the nearest MMORPG I could lay my hands on and hacking at monsters. But older, wiser and altogether much more wary of my obsessive nature, I have not done so. (Yet.)

The graphics in the movie are better of course, but the drama is beautifully detailed and benefits from the build-up that 45 minutes x 30 can offer. The lead actress Zheng Shuang is fine but you’ll forgive me for throwing the better part of my love at the feet of the scrumptious Yang Yang.

I’m still caught in the tail-spin of this binge. What shall I do next? There are two more dramas based on novels by the same writer, Gu Man. Or if I’m willing to wait and keep pace with it as it airs now in Korea, there is the very tempting ‘The Great Seducer’ which is loosely based, I hear, on Les Liaisons Dangereuses.

A dose of blue-green

On this day of incessant rain, I watched this little gem of an anime, The Garden of Words.
Life was beautiful, but it is a little more beautiful now.

Sahore Bāhubali!

Haha, just had to, you know! I’ve been fangirling Bāhubali all of April. I watched the first part again last week for purposes of revision and I’m off to see it at last! (So late, but my pre-booking hopes for ‘first day, first show’ fell through).

I absolutely loved the first part, and I have such admiration for this entire team for their commitment and attention to detail. Every frame storyboarded, every character thought through, the world marvellously detailed and then, there is SS Rajamouli’s sense of human drama. That kind of involvement shows through, and it gets communicated... no wonder it’s one of our biggest films.

This haiku by James Chessing is just perfect.

it begins...
a galaxy of dust motes
in the projector's beam

Just about OK

Spoilers!

 

Almost duty-bound, I went yesterday to see OK Jaanu – which brings up the versions I’ve seen of the movie up to three. Did I like it quite that much? I suppose I did, to be so curious about how they had treated the Hindi remake.

It was not surprising but still disappointing to me when OK Jaanu didn’t ‘take’ in the Hindi market. It is, after all, only the thousandth time that something good, even special, from the South has been difficult to translate into Hindi.

What was the problem with this film? It is easy to blame the lead pair, Aditya Roy Kapur and Shraddha Kapoor. And a bit unfair. They were just in a project that was being repotted without due process.

I found Tara ‘off’ in Jaanu – she didn’t ring true... this is not how Tara Agnihotri from Kanpur would behave... what was cute in Tamil was bizarre and tangential in Hindi. Perhaps it's because Mani Ratnam is so steeped in the Tamil way, and his own stamp is so distinct but not so easily conveyed outside the culture.

Baradwaj Rangan makes an incisive point here on why Hindi remakes of Mani Ratnam’s films don’t work. He says, “There is an air of alienation when a Tamilian moves to a “north Indian” city – when Mouna Raagam’s Divya moves to Delhi, when Nayakan’s Velu flees to Mumbai, or even when Guru’s protagonist moves to Mumbai... He’s an outsider. And this outsider-ness – this non-Bombay-ness – adds a layer of subtext to the drama.”

He is so right. That is why it didn’t seem at all odd that Nitya Menen’s Tara would wave to a strange young man she didn’t know and laboriously signal him her phone number - he was a friend of a friend, and he was Tamilian from back home, here in Big Bombay, trying to make his way through just like she was. She knew his sort and in the comfort of that knowledge, he was familiar. But why would Tara from Kanpur?

Shraddha Kapoor is just too much of a “nice girl” to play the quirky character right. Miscast, perhaps. I thought Roy Kapur was better, but not quite anything approaching Dulquer Salman. Dulquer and the incandescent Nitya Menen pitched their characters perfectly: layers of irreverent flippancy over throbbing intensity.

In rewriting and re-imagining the film, Shaad Ali hasn’t gone even half as far as he should have. He should have rewritten so many aspects – the first meeting, the second meeting... Adi’s missing two days... and unforgivably the Hindi version deletes two crucial scenes that brought the story to an emotional boil.

Naseeruddin Shah, however, plays his part far more warmly than Prakash Raj did and Leela Samson was even better this time round. And I loved Chal na kuch karte hain.
Oh well.

Aap jaisa koi meri zindagi mein aaye...

I'm too late talking but Phantom, but I was laughing and foot-tapping a while ago over Afghan Jalebi. The film didn't do great business, and nor can I see that the song fit in too well with how it was picturised, but what a song! What lilt, what arrangement and what 'lachak' these singers carry off! There are four versions, I believe, and I can't decide which one I like the most.

And while on Pritam, I went to an old favourite, Raabta from Agent Vinod. Again there are multiple versions, all of them alluring (and potential ear-worms). And these words by Amitabh Bhattacharya! I thought I was listening to a love song, and it transformed somehow into one of those 'eternal love' songs.


मेहरबानी जाते जाते मुझपे कर गया
गुज़रता सा लम्हा एक दामन भर गया
तेरा नज़ारा मिला, रोशन सितारा मिला
तकदीर की कश्तीयों को किनारा मिला

सदियों से तरसे है जैसी ज़िंदगी के लिए
तेरी सौहबत में दुआएं हैं उसी के लिए
तेरा मिलना है उस रब का इशारा
मानो मुझको बनाया तेरे जैसे ही किसी के लिए

कुछ तो है तुझसे राबता
कुछ तो है तुझसे राबता
कैसे हम जाने, हमे क्या पता?
कुछ तो है तुझसे राबता

तू हमसफ़र है, फिर क्या फिकर है
जीने की वजह यही है, मरना इसी के लिए

I find the phrasing so piquant, genteel almost: Mujhko banaya tere jaise hi kisike liye... not 'I have been made for you' but 'I have been made for someone just like you...' - the lover is throwing himself wantonly at the beloved but some remnant of a sense of decorum stays him perhaps... and a small concession is made to modesty.

I must just say also: excellent work by lyricist Amitabh Bhattacharya these past years. The style of poetry in Hindi films has changed so much since Sahir, Shakeel, Hasrat Jaipuri and Shailendra... but no matter! At least we can congratulate ourselves on seeing the backs of Sameer and his ilk. Amitabh Bhattacharya, Swanand Kirkire, Prasoon Joshi, Irshad Kamil... so many poets this decade.
Super like!

Wherefore art thou, Prem?

I must confess to a guilty pleasure: I have a sweet tooth when it comes to movies and I relish a particular brand of sweet. Ahem... Rajshri, and especially this Sooraj Barjatya.

Of course, in the enjoyment of these movies, a considerable amount of mental editing is required. One must omit several songs, purge out animal references, try to forget a LOT of the comedy and spray-paint over coy or tart heroines (as the case may be)... in fact, you might argue, almost everything. Sigh.

Maine Pyar Kiya, I found ok, Hum Aapke Hain Koun...! was tolerable and Main Prem ki Diwani Hoon was an embarrassment. But I loved Vivah, Ek Vivaah Aisa Bhi... and for some reason, I have watched Hum Saath Saath Hain every time it has been possible. And seeing that it airs almost every other weekend on one of Zee's movie properties, let's just say I've watched it in part many, many times. A friend stumbled on the secret and gifted me a DVD - in spite of this, I watched it once on youtube and also on an Air India domestic flight. Yes, well, so sue me.

So what of this Prem Ratan Dhan Paayo? The songs are all out and I'm dreading it a bit. The only thing I feel confident about is that it will be better than Main Prem ki Diwani Hoon. Maybe.
Salman Khan is having trouble playing Prem, clearly. His muscles are getting in the way. Sonam Kapoor is having trouble fanning even a small kangri's worth of heat between them (but she looks lovely!). But I can't not watch a Rajshri Diwali release, I'm going to grit my teeth and get it over with.

Srimanthudu

Just back from Srimanthudu. It got good reviews and P decided this was the last chance she was going to give Mahesh Babu. As it turned out, ‘Prince’ redeems himself with an earnest, genuinely heroic role after that string of hero-valiant, seeti-maar, misogynist rubbish.

A nice story with a conscience, I was happy with most things about Srimanthudu, including the time they took to establish the hero’s dissatisfaction with the wealth his family urges him to enjoy. Like Siddhartha Gautama, a whiff of the outside world is enough to lure Harsha into trying to ease other people’s troubles. They’re family, he tells his father repeatedly, and he means it. A man with a capacity to adopt – truly adopt – an entire village. I found him inspirational.

I was less than enthralled with the numerous fight sequences and thoroughly disgruntled with the last one, a final confrontation with a barrage of menacing villains which should exhibited more brains than it did. Also a bit shocked that the resolution to the problem involved murder and arson!

Also, I wish I could have brought myself to like Shruti Hassan, because for once, here was a female lead with a story, a purpose and a mission. However, I found the actor’s puckered-lips reactions to every situation extremely distracting. (Why, why do they mess with the faces creation gave them?) Plus, I’m not a big fan of Tollywood’s female dubbing artistes, who can manage to ruin any talking part at all.

The Telugu industry is having a good run, isn’t it! 

So far, so good

I feel like posting today, only I don't know what.

Let's see...

• Instead of kriyas, I went for Hatha Yoga this morning with an energetic round of Angamardana. I should have kept it up but somehow I prioritised the more spiritually punchy Surya Kriya and Yogasanas. Upayoga is dashed useful, so I kept that up. Angamardana is very physical and frankly requires quite a bit of fortitude from lazy people like me - and it sort of became the rarest practice. But it was lovely today - I'm bouncing off the walls.
• I didn't care for the pongal Dad had made (too tamsic and sleep inducing), so dumped some shredded cabbage into dosa batter and made some uttapams.
• I caught a bit of the song from Aashiqui 2: Aashiqui baazi hai taash ki and it left me feeling so sad all over again. Poignant despair. It did good, that movie, to leave such an enduring mood-cloud almost intact after so many months of watching it. That's success, isn't it?
• I do like Aditya Roy Kapur and Shraddha Kapoor. They make a nice pair and seemed so sweetly in love on Koffee with Karan last year. So romantic! *moony-eyed*
• It's been weeks since I saw a movie - the last was a marathon that included Birdman, Rahasya and Dolly ki Doli. I'm going to book as soon as it opens for Dum Lagake Haisha. Yay! 
• I was impressed with but didn't exactly like Birdman - pretentious, I felt, and without an emotional connect. I'm afraid technical wizardry goes only so far without a story. It seemed to have swept the Oscars though. I much preferred Boyhood. Not only for its amazing concept and 12-year span but also its content, its genuine interest in growth.
• Did not watch the Oscars yesterday but keen to catch Lady Gaga's act if I can. 

That's it. Those are the things on my mind. Plus the fact that I need to watch the clock to do the kriyas I didn't do in the morning. 

Broad strokes

Spoiler alert

------

Just back from PK. I’ve been humming Tharki chokro every spare minute this fortnight, and I was looking forward to this big release. I went expecting to laugh. Also – knowing from reviews that the film sought to come to grips with the complex issues of gods and godmen (and considering that I am myself in the thrall of this glorious face you see on the right hand corner of this webpage) – I went expecting to somewhat disagree. There was no need to have been so primed. Sledgehammer-subtle, lacking in nuance and intelligence, PK offers nothing even worth rebutting.

It conveys anguish, it conveys confusion, it cries out that the hapless people of the world have been maltreated by religion: insofar, the tale commands our sympathy. (Towards the end of the poignant song Bhagwan hai kahan re tu, PK walks into a manufacturing unit of festival idols, where we see precisely the stuff our gods are made of: straw and plaster.) However, on the whole, the film was satisfying neither in its understanding nor in its resolution. I was intrigued by the concept of a tabula rasa visitor, taken by the education-via-handholding idea and quite delighted with his clothes. But did PK have to be so unintelligent!?

I found Sanjay Dutt utterly charming, Aamir Khan belaboured, Anushka Sharma too pouty and Sushant’s appearance too brief (Shweta says he dusted off Manav of Pavitra Rishta for this cameo; she’s so right). Saurabh Shukla as Tapasvi Maharaj was fat and nicely smug though.

Pointing...

... to posts on my other blog:

On the return of the Muslim Social and an update on that trend. And while on the subject, a link to this old post: Kise pesh karun.

Status update

Sheetal is humming 'Yeh duniya pittal di... pittal di... Babydoll mai sone di..."

First day, firrrrrrst show

For the many people who asked me how I liked 2 States.

===

P and I were at Prasad’s at 8.30am today, fairly excited. Many young people sat on the steps outside – as we reached the entrance, the security man apologetically blocked our way: “Abhi entry nai hai, madam.” So early, the cinema hall hadn’t opened for the day’s business. This was a new record, even for us.

But the need was desperate. P is off to foreign shores this Monday – this may be the last movie on desi soil for a bit. Our movie plan was last-minute and Prasad’s’ 9am show had only a few lone tickets scattered here and there. “Never mind,” we told each other. So we bought the eats, waved cheerfully and made our way to our seats in separate rows. But such a long history of watching films together – our reactions were similar too. Which is:

There must be something about Chetan Bhagat’s books that make them very translatable into theatre and celluloid. A solid concept or plotline, perhaps, that others can clothe well? This must be the third such film? Three Idiots, Kai Po Che and now 2 States. Something about relatable milieus, relatable people.

I haven’t read him at all though I know, of course, that he is the bête noire of literacy critics. They can’t forgive him his mediocrity and they CANNOT forgive him his success. But I saw a few promos for this film before I saw it, and found a good number of the commenters talking familiarly of the characters, glad that particular passages in the book had made their way to the film... they seemed fond of the book they had read. Bhagat must be doing something right.

Lovely look they gave Alia Bhatt – kohl and light lip colour, fabulous street wear... there was something radiant about her in this film.

I found Arjun Kapoor’s droopy eyed portrayal of Krish just so – unobtrusive but just this teensy much blah. Great to see Amrita Singh and Revathy as well. I liked Ronit Roy, though P said he was stereotyped (on the lines of Udaan). Sau baat ki ek baat: a fresh, non-filmi film.

Patakha Guddi

Bollywood Spoilers: You've been warned.

I just got back from watching Queen and found it to be a warm, vivacious film that hit all the right notes. I've nourished a soft spot for Kangana Ranaut for a while now and am so happy for her to have this success. And director Vikas Bahl does an assured job.

A lovely coming-of-age movie that coincides nicely with the Women's Day motif too. Rani is a wide-eyed Jugni in seamy Europe... Her adventures are told with a wealth of authentic detail but what adds sheen to this story is her lack of moral judgement of the people she encounters - be they ever so different from her own straight-and-narrow ideals.

***

And wasn't I right about Alia Bhatt in Highway?! She plays the gamin, near-mystical Veera with touching earnestness. One of Imtiaz Ali's best, in my opinion. Many reviewers were uncomfortable with Veera's 'sudden' affinity for her kidnappers and likened it to the Stockholm Syndrome. I don't think it was that at all. Here is a girl who has never felt at home - now, suddenly, she does and is quick to recognise it. Her initial fear is real... her dread of the creepy Goru in the band of oppressors, for instance -- but once he is gotten rid of, and she has an idea of where the line is below which Mahabir will not stoop, she begins to look around with fresh eyes and... hope. She is resilient and what's to question about that?

Here is a girl running full-tilt into the salt plains, running away from a nightmarish abduction, running till there is no breath left in her lungs. And yet, she looks up, gasping at the desert sky. A girl who clambers on to a rock in the middle of a swift, powerful river and is moved to tears by the cascade. Here is a girl who knows to follow her heart, that sure inner voice. It urges her towards life, towards living and she listens.

Randeep Hooda's Mahabir -- silent, brooding, disbelieving that his life (which he views with heartbreaking repugnance) has room for such beauty as Veera in it. She is insistent, he is persuaded in spite of himself - and what a love story emerges! They both play their parts, as lovers must, in transforming the other. Offering each other a precious leg-up in their individual journeys towards higher consciousness - easing burdens, bringing about resolutions and finally, setting the loved one free.

Highway being as much an ode to the variety of landscape in India as it is to the inner journey, I loved that Veera and Mahabir were seen time and again sitting thus, rapt in contemplation of the scenes that meet their eyes.

It was a beautiful film - I have the hangover still to prove it.

A Few Good Men

A while ago, some of us sat down and put together a list. Of Bollywood directors who had made at least three successful films. The idea was to see if these creative persons could sustain good output – how much of it was accidental, how many became absurdly shaken by the success of their films and the attendant silliness that accompanies it in the film industry? How was it that (some) makers of interesting initial films churned out work that was shallower, more formulaic and more manipulative as they were now able to command bigger budgets?

We were clear to begin with that ‘successful’ was a subjective judgement – we didn’t take that to mean a hit necessarily, just a film that made sense to us, or appealed in some way, or showed some heart or integrity or coherence.

We had some ideas of our own, of course. I remember Javed Akhtar being asked once about the creative process and while I can’t quote him word for the word, the essence was this: while Salim and he were having fun with that they were doing, genuinely writing plots, scenarios and lines that they enjoyed, it worked. When they started second-guessing the audience, making assumptions about what would ‘work’ and what wouldn’t, they lost the magic. So basically a process where the creative person clears the board – clears away preconceptions (their own as well as other people’s), looks at a subject with some contemplation and serves it in the best manner possible... then it works. When they start worrying about how they are going to keep this good thing going, about doing justice to this bigger budget and big label expectations, put in a slick dance or two, devote more time to the publicity schedule than they do to the script and homework, they are less satisfying. This is commonsense, of course – I am saying nothing new but evidently, so difficult to do!

At the top of our list was Dibakar Banerjee and it was decided that this here was a good man in whom we could place our trust. Anything made by him, we would line up to watch. Yes, Shanghai fell short of being memorable but his short in Bombay Talkies held its own and what variety and assurance he brings to his subjects! And I for one am super excited that he will be making Detective Byomkesh Bakshi with the talented Sushant Singh Rajput.

I am also interested in Imtiaz Ali. I loved his Socha Na Tha – even a shade better than the more touted Jab We Met. He stuttered badly of course with Love Aaj Kal but recovered his poise with Rockstar. I am really looking forward to Highway; it has all the Imtiaz Ali trademarks: travel, self-discovery and I suspect that Alia Bhatt is going to make everyone sit up.

Shimit Amin has consistently put out quality and even in spite of his association with Yash Raj Films. We will keep an eye out for Zoya Akhtar too. I am not attracted myself to Anurag Kashyap, who is a bit affected in his approach but there is something there. 

Milan Lutharia is exciting if erratic; we would look forward to Sujoy Ghosh’s next, as well as Shriram Raghavan’s. So too for that matter Abhishek Kapoor’s next: Fitoor. Tigmanshu Dhulia has become trapped in communicating a certain badlands ethos but I really liked Bullet Raja (and going by the promos I have an inkling that I will prefer it to the forthcoming Gunday as far as Jai-Veeru tales go) and how about that Paan Singh Tomar! It haunts me still.

But so many disappointments we came across as we put this list together. Whatever happened to John Matthew Mathan who made Sarfarosh?! Why did Ashutosh Gowarikar go downhill in that step-wise descent? Will Farhan Akhtar ever make something approaching Dil Chahta Hai? Or if that is asking for too much – will he ever stop with the Don series, for our sakes, and to save consecutive dilutions of a powerful, iconic brand?

All said and done, though: thanks, guys, for many hours of joy. We love the movies and if it happens that we don’t like one, we at least love sniping at it. Hail Bollywood!

Haath, Kangan aur Farsi

Sometimes I find English too unemotional a language for my needs; it is too easily embarrassed. I was thinking the other day about people who use language well and how I tend to become ‘nisar’ over them. I cannot of course translate this: ‘I am squandered... I am strewn over articulate, vivid speakers of native tongues...’ As you see, it sounds ridiculous.

+++

Truth is I have a crush on languages. Punjabi, Farsi, Sanskrit, Hindi, Urdu, Kannada, Telugu... they fascinate me all. My own ability to pick up a new tongue or dialect or accent is good but nowhere near where I would like it to be. I remember my sister saying once that if she could pick a superpower it would be the ability to understand every language in the world. I agree wholeheartedly. But alas, to acquire a true and imaginative mastery of a language needs exposure, it needs you to steep yourself in a culture – and for that you would need: a) an unadulterated petri dish of said culture and b) the time, space and adequate excuse to do the steeping. Situated as I am, it cannot be done on a whim.

So I pick up things – savour a phrase, wonder at the context of a particular way of expressing. It is unsatisfactory – I am ever aware that I am feeling a small wrinkle in the elephant’s skin – but there is nothing else.

In the latest season of Coke Studio, Sanam Marvi sings a mysterious snatch without giving us the backstory. The beloved has come across the river to meet but doesn’t spend too much time with the poet: “nah main majlis keeti, na mai raat rahaaya”. ‘I didn’t get the chance to sit together awhile, or spend with him a single night’, she laments. In fact: “onṭhi uṭh nah jhukaaya.” So fleeting a visit, he didn’t even lower the camel to the ground. How delicious is that phrasing – a mere half-sentence gives us glimpse of an entire way of living.

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While on this subject, I have a fond ambition: to speak in fluid ‘ba-muhavra’ Hindustani. You know, have a ready proverb or a saying for every situation. This now is doable. I trying to learn them up from here and there – in spite of the apparent homogeneity that has set in to our national media, you can still sift some nuggets, I find. So, I found occasion to exclaim ‘Bheda garak!’ several times this week, and when a friend told me they had to let their (very inept) administrative man go, I was happy to be able to assuage his conscience with ‘Khus kam jahaan paak.’

I am looking for a reason to say ‘Oonth ke pair toh paalne mein hi dikh jaate hain’ and but quite despair of being able to tell anyone: ‘Arre, aam khaona, guTliyan kyon ginte ho?’

Incidentally, I’m collecting these, so you if know any, do pass them on? After all, akela chana bhaad nahin phod sakta.

Links: Missing links and Other Things

I can’t go wrong today, it seems. Every day brings exhortations from my social media timelines – links that lead to news, videos, cat videos, absorbing views, activism, personal photo albums... the lot. Today, link after link led to gold, so I’m just collating it all.

First thing in the morning, my friend Samanth Subramanian’s most excellent and moving essay about his grandfather, whom he says he didn’t question closely enough when he was alive. (I find that shocking – Samanth has at least half a dozen questions for anyone.) But now with the man himself obscured by death, Samanth tries to make ‘forensic guesses’ about his grandfather’s life, to build a sketchy biography, and a tribute.

He says: “There is some complicated guilt here too, lurking in the corner but unavoidable. I have felt as if I am personally responsible for rupturing traditions that run back many generations and that are still alive, to some extent, in the person of my father... under my uncaring stewardship, a certain continuity has snapped, and a vast body of inherited knowledge has suddenly and irreversibly decayed.”

How this resonates with me! Particularly since my mother’s death, I find myself stupidly at a loss – and feel many pangs over this heritage that could have been mine if I had only respected, valued it more. Between my grandmother’s lifestyle and mine is such a world of difference and I know whose is shallower, poorer.

In the same vein allow me to link (although I came across it a few weeks ago) to another fine piece that speaks of a culture, a past we have wantonly let go of.

When Shweta and I discuss this loss, we are agreed that the blame lies with our parents’ generation – our doting parents who loved their parents but didn’t respect them enough, who looked too much to the future, to western educations, to success, to expanding their horizons beyond anything their forefathers had dreamt of. Theirs the blame for not holding on tightly enough, for their lack of conviction, for not insisting that we, their children, learn and carry on some of it, for letting it all sink before we thought to grasp it. Is that too harsh? I am not bitter, only regretful.

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Another link today led to this wonderful interview with actor Kangana Ranaut. She’s astonishingly poised, impressively mature (she’s 26!) and devoid of artifice or affectation.



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My Guru talks of knowing rain: “If you walk through the rain with utmost awareness, you will know rain in a certain way. But if you walk through the rain with absolute abandon, you will know rain another way.” Isn’t that like holding on to moon beams? Can one know rain? He says maybe. That’s what I’m after. Which way I still don’t know, but I’ll know in the end. Or it won’t matter.

But let Sadhguru speak for himself.

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And though I didn’t come across these links today-today, these TED talks enlivened my week, so they go in here too.

Iwan Baan on how people carve out homes in unexpected places and ways:



This unexpectedly moving lecture on muses by Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love:

What's on your mind?

Feeling sick. A not-so-great curry puff from three days ago is still messing up my stomach - I just wished I'd earned this with a nice pav bhaji at least.

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I saw The Lunch Box yesterday and it was everything they were raving about. Excellent performances by everyone. (I remember Irrfan Khan from all those years ago in a serial called Banegi Apni Baat and feel a little particular pride at the long way he's come.) I loved the life they depicted for Ila. The upstairs 'Aunty' whom we never see (fabulous little part by Bharti Achrekar), their shared lives... Ila asking Mrs Deshpande to switch off the music because her husband has come home, the basket that ferries domestic essentials, the complete sympathy between their desperately lonely existences.

The credits included an astonishing number of production houses and organisations -- what on earth was there for so many people to do in such a small film?

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Still feeling sick. What shall I do? Gruel and bananas till I get better or just gobble what comes my way - how long can this tum-tantrum last anyway?

Very silly hai inki love life!

I watched Shuddh Desi Romance yesterday and can't think why I wasted two-and-a-half hours on characters who simply didn't know what or who they wanted.
After a stunning debut in Kai po che, Sushant Singh Rajput was blah. The girls were better, esp Vaani Kapoor; and Rishi Kapoor was FABULOUS but that still doesn't make up for the jalebi plot. Not shuddh anything, not desi (surely commitment phobia is an imported angst) and definitely not romantic. Maneesh Sharma, you annoyed me so much.