Siege of New Delhi

Shutting down the roads in New Delhi and suspending the metro service may be warranted as a security measure by the government but it shows how much highhandedness the administration and the police can resort to when faced with a popular agitation.

Just think, if they can do this to the people of the national capital in the full glare of national and international media then what they are capable of or they are actually doing in the remote villages where the common people are being branded as Maoists. What we are experiencing is a spontaneous outburst of people, especially the youth against the breakdown of administration. This is a rejection of the belief that the government is for the people, of the people.

Whenever the administration and the politicians become the ruling class and detach themselves from the people they are supposed to serve and use force as oppressors, they have never been successful in the long term. By using coercive measures, the government may have won the battle for the day but they have already lost the war. Nobody will now believe the government or its ability and capacity to do anything constructive for the people or the nation. Those who were so much euphoric about the passing of FDI may ask themselves the question – Who will invest in this country if this type of helpless and indecisive administration prevails. Does anybody expect quality resources to be deployed on the mercy of these blundering buffoons who pass muster as our elected representatives?

When a healing touch was required, the government has taken firstly an unconcerned attitude, then a defensive attitude and thereafter the highhanded approach. Now they are blaming the people for violence and trying to save their face. No sense of accountability and ownership is evident from their knee-jerk reactions. What more can you expect from a heartless and brain dead administration which has run its course by faltering from one blunder to another.

The leaders could not rise above their political compulsions and become statesman. No politician worth his salt from any of the political party has tried to identify him (her) self with the anguished psyche of the people. The matter is not only of the rape of a young girl. The malaise is deep rooted. It is about the rape of the society as a whole by these self seeking politicians as they have reduced the administration to a non performing heartless juggernaut.

It is surprising that the President of the country has not even issued a statement when the action is happening at his doorstep. It would have been a good gesture if he had come out of his safe environs with a statement to assuage the hurt feeling of the nation and restore normalcy. But then it is expecting too much from a political apparatchik. By keeping silence he is only following the footsteps of many of his predecessors, all appointed at the discretion of the Congress party, or rather the Gandhi family.

I am not in favour of anarchy. Neither do I support riots or destruction of lives and property. But salute the energy and the anguish of the youth which has crystallised into the agitation at the capital city. However cynical we may be, the youth deserves to be praised for standing up. They have proved that in spite of the onslaught of commercialism and material values, there is still that spark of rebellion in them. They need the support of all well meaning people all over the country.

The Last Act.

The Last Act turned out to be a very engrossing movie . I may be sounding a trifle trite in praising it , maybe because it actually exceeded expectations. But the fact remains that this movie is meant for serious cine-goers who don't always watch movies for pure entertainment, fun or the escapism attached to celluloid screen. Saying that let me also clarify that The Last Act also entertains, in a zara hatke manner.

First things first. The movie was released last Friday on the 14th December. I was waiting eagerly for it because of the pre-release buzz of experimentation around it. But strangely or maybe not so surprisingly after all, the movie got a very sparse release. In Mumbai, it seemed to have been released in only four multiplexes , all of the PVR chain. That too in very few showtime slots. I was determined to see the movie and so took the step of going all tthe way to Kurla, which is neither near my home or my office , but somewhere in between to watch the movie .

I expected thin attendance but was not prepared for the shock of finding only three persons , me included, in an amply spacious theatre when the National Anthem was sung. It was a very demoralising feeling no doubt. Later eight more persons trouped in after the movie started taking the total tally to eleven. I was somehow salvaged from beating my own record of attending another movie - Maharathi -with five persons as audience . Incidentally I hear from oldtimers that Dev Saab's movie Ishq Ishq Ishq in the seventies also opened to single digit audience and bombed miserably at the box-office.

But let me not digress and come straight to the point and say someting about the movie without testing the patience of my dear readers any further. I would first like to tell you the storyline as traditionally it is called so because there is no other name by which we can call it. The movie is plotted as a mystery connected with a corpse in Mumbai, an accident victim whose face is badly mutilated and therefore unidentifiable. The police discovers, along with the corpse, twelve items as clues to the identity of the dead person. Each of these clues point to different cities and towns viz. Kalyan,Nagpur, Pune, Kolkata, New Delhi, Chandigarh, Ghaziabad,Lucknow, Gwalior, Chandigarh, Bangalore and Chennai.

The narrative of the movie traces each of the sub-stories connected with these clues at these different places and how the truth is unravelled. each of the stories are seemingly not connected to each other yet integrated by themselves to solve the puzzle. The element of suspense never overwhelms the viewer and the mystery never becomes the focus of the movie. Rather the subplots add to the understanding of human nature and the places by capturing the local milieu and the surroundings in a very capable manner.

The movie is fully subtitled in English and rightly so because the conversation of the actors take place in the local languages and dialects. One therefore finds the dialogues in Bengali, Tamil, Marathi etc. which forms an inherent part of the narrative . It adds more life to the proceedings instead of being an impediment to the flow of the movie.

So far so good. But now comes the most interesting part and the USP of the movie. For those who are not aware or heard about this movie before, let me surprise you by saying that these twelve stories have been directed by twelve different directors besides #Anurag Kashyap who has conceptualised the whole idea and also directed the Mumbai part of the story. This makes it perhaps the biggest collaborative attempt in the history of Indian cinema, inasmuch direction is concerned. The different styles and treatment of the plot by the directors stand out separately as independant efforts but adjusted marvellously into an intriguing collage.

This movie has nothing great to speak on the quotients of acting, glamour, emotion, drama, thrill,action, sex,love, dialogues etc. etc. all which we associate with a great movie. Yet it is an outstanding piece of work because it addresses the basic needs of cinema which are a taut screenplay and a tight edit . The directors are excellent, good and average in their presentations but the overall result is superb. Hats off to Anurag Kashyap for the concept, vision and experimentation. He deserves all the credits along with his full team and collaborators.

As my last act in the form of last word, I am tempted to add a potshot; I know many will not like it because they believe and rightly so that cinema or for that matter all forms of art are meant primarily for entertainment and should return the value of the money spent on it. I do not want to join issues with them . Neither do I have any grievances against them. I would only like to point out that movies like The Last Act do not get proper release or audience that it deserve while Dabbang 2 which will release tomorrow ( is that a part of the Mayan prophecy too ?) may break all previous records at the box office. Doesn't it bear a striking resemblance to the phenomenon of people not going to exercise their franchise and later criticising the elected government for the next five years.

Heady flavour of love

Just Arunangshu

Smell now the heady flavour of love
in this irrational season of flowers;
to talk of reason is oh so boring.
Only morons will count their gains
now, when everything else decides

to take a break and embrace
this heady flavour of love.
This is the time to dance away
with these naked flames of passion
flickering in their unabashed rhythm.
Get consumed, leap into the unknown
lose control in this heady flavour of love.
Taste it dripping from the honeycomb
then remain unsatiated with the craving.
There is always a risk that we bear,
of living through countless deaths,
in this irrational season of flowers.
Only the gambler knows, how it feels
to fritter away all wealth , gathered,
over all those years of hardships
worth every drop of sweat .
But still driven by the madness
of the season without the reason,
in these strange and sultry nights,
with the heady flavour of love.
Silently crave for the night to cover
everything to oblivion in its dark tresses.
Take time off to delve into those recesses
never reached by her past lovers.
Don't hesitate now , reach out,
grab this moment before it slips away.
Hold her, take her, as she comes to you.
Go,sink in this heady flavour of love.

Along the banks of rivers.

Civilisations are built, empires established

along the banks of rivers

People live , people love and also fight wars

seeds are sown, harvests reaped,

granaries filled and taxes paid;

all along the banks of rivers.

We talk in awe of ancient kings and their deeds

who ruled over these lands.

Such is the way history is written

everyday and every where in this world.

Only if those ruins could say the real story

of what had really happened

Why the river changed its course

leaving the flourishing hamlets to their fate.

What became of their Gods

who were supposed to bless them

bring prosperity to their homes .

Sands buried everything of whatever remained

all traces of those untold stories,

with the artifacts,roads , granaries.

The rivers changed their courses

and never returned back .

forgetting the people who built the cities

along the banks of rivers..

No reason to look back

It is amazing how swift change of situations dot life with a regularity providing us with lessons and an overall humbling experience . In spite of the best laid out plans one finds the designs of fate throwing surprises at us and turn the course of life to a totally different direction . But when a situation repeats itself and one faces the same dillema once over it becomes a little too much to call it a coincidence. In all such contradictions of life one has nothing to guide self but to depend upon the instinct of survival and the call of the heart.

I have always believed that actions should be backed by the mind while decisions taken by the heart. And there should be no regrets after choosing the way of the heart. So this time too , I will let my heart decide and walk across the point of no return. Then I will open my mind to the new vista opening up beyond the horizon. What could have been will be a fond memory to fall back on times of self doubt later as the excitement of the unknown challenges on the new way ahead shapes life until the next crossroad is faced, again.

Following the heart may have sometimes looked foolish by the conventional wisdom but I have never regretted the challenges it had brought in its wake because in retrospect I have been blessed with the satisfaction of finding things fall in place, ultimately. When I wrote this poem,it was of a different context but strangely now it reflects the situation I am placed now. So let me repeat this once again , as a prayer for myself and reiterate my faith on myself .

I know I will live only once.

But as long as I live this life,

I will live it on my own terms.

The world has its own rules ,

I have a set of mine.

Why conform to set standards

and live with regrets ?

Time , whatever of it is left,

is borrowed.

Someday we all have to leave.

On the one way street of life,

let me walk facing the Sun.

No reason to look back

on the shadows

that I leave behind.

The Smell

Something here , something there;

seems to somehow remain.

A lingering odour , a slight tangy smell

just stays back , even after

so many hours.

I could have tried to use a perfume

to freshen up the air , but then

I don't have any with me now.

This simple fact , this lack of resource

makes me uneasy by reminding me

of my utter helplessness.

So I stay put , pretending to be

unaware of the irritating smell.

Hanging all around the room,

in the corners, on the walls,curtains

and other furniture ,even photographs.

Something here , something there,

must be decaying  in this room.

I don't know exactly what it is

but I can sense it well, from the smell.

If I pray for England winning the second Test match ?

If I pray for England winning the second Test match will it be an unpatriotic act? I can visualise many of my friends squirming uncomfortably at this question because they think I am a genuinely nice person and this type of a question shows that something is genuinely wrong with my mind. Dear friends, now don't jump to a conclusion and term me as a gadfly , a philistine or a traitor trying to kick a fallen soldeir on his wounds . Neither I am a non believer. On the contrary I am an ardent fan of Test cricket as a game and the Indian cricket team, strictly in that order.

After sparing a thought on the subject and analysing the situation,post stumps on day three of the second test match between England and India at the Wankhede stadium , Mumbai ,any sane person would say that Cricket is a funny game and India is staring at a loss which will square the series position to 1-1. But the diehard Indian fan will stress on the funny part of the game and pray through out the night for an unlikely Indian win as a miracle . I have myself done this since 1971 on numerous occasions since the Carribean tour by the Indians . A handful of times miracle did happen but mostly my prayers remained unfulfilled. I have no grudge against the God for this because whatever few games where India managed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat are all treasures for the memory. From Gavaskar to Tendulkar, from Amarnath (Jimmy) to Dravid, from Wadekar to Ganguly, from Chandrasekhar to Kumble, from Bedi to Harbhajan, from Kapil to Zaheer via Srinath, from Azhar to Laxman , I have witnessed many memorable rallies and fightbacks down the four decades that I am savouring the pleasures of this great game.

Then why am I rooting for an England win today and why will I pray for this tonight before going to sleep ? That's because if somehow England manage to lose this test match then that will be a great dis service to the cause of Indian cricket. Then again these demi gods will strut along shamelessly, the TV channells will again eulogise their feats, the advertisers will spend their millions on getting their products endorsed by the heroes, the diehard fans (shall we say of the stupid variety) will again do all those jingoistic rituals and the BCCI will laugh its way to the Bank. But nobody would care to look into the malaise and try to see the obvious – how they are killing cricket just like the goose which laid the golden egg.

This Indian team has the dubious record of losing eight consecutive tests overseas and then on their home turf they are presented with rank turners where the ball talks with a spin from the very first hour. All this to ensure wins and the media hypes it as the revenge series. The first test match is won and people fall over each other to hail the captain and the team. But wait, the second test match shows that the Indian batsmen are matching their overseas forms and the bowlers are not capable to produce the venom to dislodge quality batsmen even on pitches doctored specially for them.

What more do you expect ? When a player , who is a normal human being is declared God by everybody and given the option to play as long as he wants , when the captain , living upto his cool image , cooly calculates the benefit from endorsements and evades any questions on his role and responsibility by aligning himself with the BCCI power, when your pace spearhead is actually unfit but you still do not want to try out the best pace bowler of the country at this point of time, when your team has a spinner living on his past glories . All these and much more of fallacies and blatant mismanagement is eating away the charm of cricket. Losing is not a shame . But preparing pitches to trap the opposite team and then get caught foolishly in the trap set is downright idiotic.

Cricket is a funny game. There's no doubt about it. Fortunes can change anytime and it always favour the brave, but not idiots.

Hope England wins this game and provides BCCI with the resounding kick on its back which they really deserve.