Two days, two films Part 1

I nearly didn’t go for the fist one. I really wanted to see it of course, but I really wanted to see it on the big screen, the way films are supposed to be seen. ‘Gopi gawaiyaa, Bagha bajaiyaa’ is a CFSI produced animation film based on the short story ‘Gopi gyne, Bagha byne’ by Upendra Kishore Roy Chowdhury. One look at the trailer will give you a sense of the canvas of the film- it has been designed to be a film for the theatre, not the small screen of television. Much work would have gone in the sound as well, and I was really not looking forward to seeing it at Vikalp @ Prithvi, at Prithvi House- those are hardly ideal conditions for film viewing.

But then I wasn’t sure when the next opportunity to see the film would present itself, and so I went...

Even though I must state at the very outset that there is little that I know about animation, so I can’t talk knowledgably about it, it was the animation that struck a chord. It’s a beautifully detailed film- exquisite, like some of our folk forms. The first thing, and the last, and throughout in between, that hits you is the colour and the detail. While things have been kept simple, a lot seems to have gone into designing it in a way that maximum possible communication is made possible by efficient production. A rich multicoloured palate is used throughout- every frame is a feast (some have too much going on- there were places I thought the background plates were almost distracting). And the textures, oh my! Things come alive because of her use of textures…

She seemed to have been inspired by shadow puppetry- especially in how she conceived the ghost, and the way facial features moved within the face of the evil Senapati, with overall movement, in a rocking motion almost- I had thought while seeing the film. In the interaction afterwards she mentioned that this was indeed true, and had informed everything from the animation, especially the movements, to how the various characters shaped up. While on the subject of characters- I was most fascinated by the noses! She said the film had about 80 characters- so many varieties of noses! And I was fascinated by the stitches everywhere on the faces and bodies, like they were cloth dolls stitched into shape.

The other thing noteworthy about the film is another subject I know little about- the music. It’s a musical, so from the first scene to the last, there is such-lovely-music.

Somewhere in the middle of the film however, a note of disapproval crept into my mind- when the boys started fighting over the girl. It was disservice enough to women to not have a single noteworthy female character in a film directed by a woman, though in a story that perhaps didn’t allow for it, it can, I suppose, be overlooked. But what explanation do we have for perpetuating the idea of boys fighting over a girl they haven’t even seen, forget interacted with. It made me shake my head, and want to shake a finger at Soumitra for having written it that way, and for Shilpa for having directed it…

Otherwise, it was mostly a lovely experience. See the trailer and judge for yourself.

मैं सहम जाती हूँ

मैं सहम जाती हूँ। अपने आप को बहुत छोटा पाती हूँ।

पिछले कुछ दिनों में कई बार ऐसा हुआ। पहली बार जब मैं दिल्ली में थी, और मानव का फ़ोन आया। बातें करते करते अचानक ही वो मेरे काम के बारे में बात करने लगा (हमने साथ में एक फिल्म शूट की है, यानि कि उसने लिखी और डायरेक्ट की और मैंने शूट की)। शायद बात उसके दिमाग में ताज़ा थी तो उसे जैसे ही याद आई उसने फट से बोल डाली। उसने मुझसे कहा कि एक सिनेमेटोग्राफर के लिए एक्टर की नब्ज़ को पकड़ना बहुत ज़रूरी होता है। That one should react to what the actor is doing, and try and catch the beat of the actor. पर ये बात तो मुझे पता है! मेरे लिए ये अचरज ही नहीं शर्मिंदगी की बात थी की उसे ऐसा बोलने की ज़रुरत भी महसूस हुई। जिस चीज़ को मैं अपनी strength समझती थी, वो उसी बात को लेके अप्रसन्नता जता रहा था। जो मुझे लगा फिल्म की सबसे बड़ी strength होगी, क्या वो नहीं है? मैं बहुत सी documentaries शूट करती रही हूँ जिसमें ये एक महत्त्वपूर्ण गुण माना जाता है कि आप उस क्षण की और अपने पात्र की तरफ न सिर्फ़  सचेत रहें पर उसकी नब्ज़ को पकड़ पायें। और documentaries में तो दूसरा टेक भी नहीं मिलता! अपनी इस काबलियत पर मैं हमेशा काम करती रही हूँ। एक तरफ शायद थोड़ी घमंडी भी हूँ इस गुण को लेकर, और दूसरी तरफ हमेशा डरी रहती हूँ की कहीं घमंड इतना ना बढ़ जाए की गुण हाथ से जाता रहे। पर इस फिल्म में, जो मेरे अब तक के career की सबसे महत्त्वपूर्ण फिल्म होगी, जिसे मैंने भरपूर प्यार और श्रद्धा के साथ शूट किया, क्या मैं असफल रही? Did I let down Manav as director and all those wonderful actors? And as a consequence, did I fail the film? इस बात से मुझे बहुत दुःख हुआ। मैं सहम गयी।

शायद मानव को भी इस बात का एहसास हुआ क्योंकि कुछ ही देर बाद उसका फिर से फ़ोन आया और वो बोला कि the film is looking stunningly beautiful लेकिन एक दोस्त और शुभचिंतक होने के नाते उसे लगा की वो मुझे ये feedback भी ज़रूर दे। इस बात की मैं आभारी हूँ और मानव से इतनी अपेक्षा तो रखती हूँ कि वो मुझे सच्ची और खरी ही फीडबैक दे।

मैं वापस मुंबई आई। पता नहीं क्यों वापस आते वक़्त मन कुछ विचलित था। मन में ये सवाल था कि जीने का मकसद क्या है। क्यों जी रही हूँ, किसके लिए। गलत मत समझिये, ऐसा नहीं है कि मेरे जीवन में प्यार की कोई कमी है। मेरा एक सुन्दर परिवार है, जिसके सभी लोग मुझसे बहुत प्यार करते हैं। बहुत से अच्छे दोस्त हैं। रोमांचक प्यार की बात की जाए तो उस मामले में भी मैं बहुत भाग्यवान रही हूँ। अभी जीवन में कोई न सही पर that is by choice. लेकिन फिर भी ऐसा लगता है की क्यों जिया जाए। शादी करके, बच्चे पैदा करके हम अपने आप को बहला तो लेते हैं की हमारे पास जीने का मकसद है, पर क्या वाकई में वो है, या हम जीवन के खालीपन को रिश्तों से भरने में जुटे हैं?

मुंबई वापस आके आधा दिन तो सफ़ाई में गया। शाम को जब मेल चेक की तो देखा फैज़ा की एक मेल आई हुई थी। गोलीबार में फिर से लोगों के घर तोड़े गए थे, और कुछ 43 परिवारों ने मैदान में रात गुज़ारी थी। बात दिल को छू गयी पर समझ में नहीं आया क्या करूं। अगले दिन एक दोस्त का मेसेज आया कि वो पास ही है, मिलने आ जाए? वो आया, उसी दिन इत्तेफ़ाक से शायोनी भी मानव के घर आई हुई थी सो शाम साथ गुज़री। बहुत बातें हुई, drinks के साथ। रात देर से सोई थी फिर भी सुबह जल्दी आँख खुल गयी। दिन की शुरुआत फिर से गोलीबार की खबर और तस्वीरों से हुई। जिस रात मैं शराब पीते हुए बेकार की बातें कर रही थी, उस रात गोलीबार के लोग सड़क पर थे। पर ये तो रोज़ ही होता है, कितने ही लोग रोज़ ही सड़क पर होते हैं, इसमें क्या नया है? क्यों मैं अपने आप को नकली सी लगती हूँ?

बहुत मुश्किल होती है। किस बात से बंधू, किससे दूर रहूँ? किससे प्रभावित होऊं, किससे नहीं। कभी लगता है कि ये भी एक तरह का घमंड ही है की हमें 'कुछ करना चाहिए', कि हमारे कुछ करने से कोई फ़र्क पड़ सकता है। अपने ही सवालों से कभी तो थक जाती हूँ, और कभी ऐसा लगता है कि जवाब कितना सरल है। हमारे वश में तो कुछ है ही नहीं, ये तो दुनिया का संतुलन है। The only thing to do, the only thing one can do, is to follow one's heart. जो काम अच्छा लगे, जिस काम से ख़ुशी मिले, बस वो करता चल। अगर आप सच्चे दिल से काम कर रहें हैं, तो chances are that you are adding value to the world. फिर ये ज़रूरी नहीं है कि आप खादी के कपडे और कोह्लापुरी चप्पल पहन कर स्लम में काम करें। शायद मैं बहुत स्वाभाविक सी बात कह रही हूँ। लेकिन ये बात मुझे रह रह के अपने आप को ही बतानी पड़ती है। शायद मेरी मध्य वर्गीयता भी मुझ पर कभी कभी भारी पड़ती है। और इस बात से भी मैं बहुत खुश हूँ। ऐसा लगता है कि जीवन में अगर कोई तकलीफ न हो, या तकलीफ की तरफ़ संवेदनशीलता न हो, तो जीवन कितना नीरस होगा।

इस बात में भी घमंड की हलकी सी बू तो है!

आज फ़िर मानव से मुलाक़ात हुई। वो टैगोर पर नाटक की तैयारी में जुटा है। कितना जोश है उसकी बातों में और कितना विश्वास भी। पिछले कुछ महीनों मैं उससे काफ़ी प्रभावित रही। उसके काम के बारे में पहले भी लिख चुकी हूँ। हालांकि उसका काम मुझे पसंद है, पर कुछ बातों से, और एक नाटक से शिकायत भी है। पर इस बात की दाद देती हूँ कि वो जो करता है, पूरी शिद्दत, पूरे तन मन से। वो एक तेज़ बहती नदी की तरह है, उसके साथ काम करना मतलब उसके साथ बहना है। मतलब एक तरीके का समर्पण। अगर आप बहने को तैयार नहीं हैं तो या तो आप उसके साथ काम नहीं कर पाएंगे, या अपने काम में आनंद नहीं ले पाएंगे, या वो ही आप को निकाल बाहर करेगा। बहरहाल, मुझे उसकी energy और enthusiasm हमेशा से बहुत पसंद है। आज भी उसकी बातें सुनी तो एहसास हुआ कि वो कितना काम कर चुका है, और कितना ही और करने में जुटा है। मैं फ़िर सहम गयी। अपनी ज़िन्दगी कुछ फीकी सी लगने लगी। इसलिए नहीं की मुझे अपनी क्षमता पर विश्वास नहीं हैं, या मैं तुलना में लगी हूँ- वो तो बेवकूफी होगी। शायद इसीलिए कि अपनी क्षमता का एहसास है...

पर उसमें भी तो कोई नयी बात नहीं है। मैं अकेली तो नहीं हूँ ऐसी जो अपनी क्षमता के अनुसार काम न पाएगी न कर पाएगी...

Inspired by Manav, I wrote this post (almost) in Hindi. It took two pegs of rum, three cigarettes, thrice as long and some help from the English-Hindi shabdkosh :)

Manav Kaul: First Impressions (Part 1)

A little over a month and- one film seen, one shot, three plays seen, one read, and several poems and blog posts read- it’s been a Manav Kaul overdose.

(Links: Manav's plays, poems and other writings.)

I had not heard of Manav when I went to see his film- as part of the Osian’s Film Festival in Delhi, and on a friend’s recommendation- it’s called Hansa and it’s one of the loveliest children’s films I have seen. It has a simple story, just like the people that it portrays- hill people, with their simple lives and simple joys and sorrows (and I don’t mean that in a condescending way, far from it!) It is full of heartwarming little details and characters that are quirky yet believable, with their own little idiosyncrasies. More than anything else, it’s a film that treats children as young adults, with respect for their intelligence and sensitivity, and without mollycoddling or shielding them from the realities of life. There is stuff in the film that parents may find hard to explain to their children, but it is in no way stuff that they should shy away from. It is also a film with some wonderful performances, especially by the younger actors. It is a little crude, rough- at- the- edges so to say in its craft, but I am more than willing to overlook that not just because it is Manav’s first film but also because there is so much in the film that is beautiful and does work!

(Unsurprisingly it won awards at Osian's. Read about it here.)

I returned to Bombay determined to see Manav’s plays, two of which were scheduled to be staged at Prithvi soon after my return. He is primarily a theatre person and I was excited about seeing his plays after seeing such a promising film debut. So I promptly went for ‘Ilhaam’, the first of the two plays, the first day that it was staged.

‘Ilhaam’ is a story about a family man who attains enlightenment and what happens thereafter- how he and his family cope with it. Here’s the official synopsis: ‘Bhagwan is the epitome of the mundane – a middle-aged banker, married, with two grown up college-going children. However, one day, while sitting on a decrepit park bench he stumbles upon ‘enlightenment’. Therein begins the battle between the world outside and his world inside’.

Let me state at the outset that I had a problem with ‘Ilhaam’ from the word go, with it’s very premise. The play basically seeks to engage with Bhagwan’s struggles post enlightenment, without actually concerning itself with what the process of reaching this enlightenment may have been. There are clues along the way that seem to suggest, as does the synopsis, that Bhagwan literally ‘stumbles upon’ enlightenment, an idea that is as fantastic as it seems preposterous, though in all fairness there are also clues that suggest Bhagwan always had a disposition that made him a suitable candidate, including a history of talking to birds, running away from home as a child and being untraceable for a year, and time spent in an asylum. And yet there is little to suggest that it was a conscious process, nor is the process or enlightenment itself accompanied by a better understanding of the world, a fact that seems blaringly contradictory to the idea of ‘enlightenment’, whatever it may be (since we can only conjecture.)

Manav seems to have limited his own canvas by resorting to clichés- in his journey towards enlightenment and thereafter, Bhagwan sits in a decrepit park bench for hours on end, watching children who don’t exist, at play. He talks to birds and can converse with a mute beggar. He dances without music (a graceless dance with staccato movements… because Nature is so graceless?!) All the while that he finds himself closer to Nature, he also finds himself further away from his family and friends, at one point reaching a stage where they become totally unintelligible to him. For some inexplicable reason, his ‘enlightenment’ is not accompanied by sensitivity towards his own family nor understanding for their concern. I find this conceptualisation puzzling- I can understand the difficulty in portraying a sense of detachment- and therein lies the challenge. But should this detachment have been devoid of love and compassion and a deeper understanding of the ways of the Universe? Did Bhagwan really need to be so perplexed by all that was going on around him? If the intention was to portray Bhagwan’s internal struggle, would that not have been better served had Bhagwan been a little more aware? He might still have found himself to be equally helpless, but would have been more believable as someone who did indeed attain some kind of enlightenment.

The play is peppered with philosophical questions, (and references many authors) which are not just perfectly legitimate, they are of a high intellectual caliber, something that one can expect of someone as well read as Manav. But then it seems to be precisely that- an intellectual response to a concept that can perhaps only be understood or believed in if one has faith. In my limited experience, I have come to recognise and accept the difference between intelligence and wisdom. Manav seems to be coming from a place of intelligence and attempting to tackle questions of wisdom...

Having said that, I did find his take very interesting. According to Manav, enlightenment is a reversible process, ‘curable’ by the force of will and medicine. Such is the fate of his Bhagwan, who goes through psychological treatment- willingly it would seem- for he makes a choice to return to family life over staying enlightened, which seem, according to him, to be mutually exclusive states of being. This is a choice he makes in a conversation with his ‘Chacha’ (who the Chacha turns out to be is a delightful surprise in an inspired piece of writing)- a conversation that is the high point of the play, and one which encapsulates its essence.

The building next door

I’d noticed the name before

on the building next door

though only in passing.

Do you pause anymore

when you come across a building

named after a popular icon?

Neither do I.

And this one was inside Police Officers’ Colony!

And so it came to be

that here I’ve been living

without a clue.

Until last week when I visited someone who lives in it.

At the entrance

I found a bust

bearing his name!

So I asked.

Oh yes, said she.

This plot of land belonged to him,

as did the building.

When he died,

his family distributed the apartments

among his crew.

This one belonged to his still photographer.

There it was then.

He died before the building was even finished,

and he certainly never lived in it.

But if he owned it, surely he must have come here,

walked the same earth?

That thought was enough to fill my heart

with a child like glee!

I glided home,

imagining that time in the long lost past

when Guru Dutt may have walked the same path.

Baromas

'Have you seen Harud? Its the best film on Kashmir yet, absolutely brilliant. Has convinced me, if there was any doubt, that fiction is the way to go.'

A couple of years ago a friend of mine who had made a documentary on the women of Kashmir, sent me this message. I mostly agree, though I also feel that we live in a fool's paradise when we imagine that the films we choose to be associated with make any difference at all. And yet, we go on believing.

Here’s another film then, very different in style from Harud, and yet equally relevant. I hope it does for farmers what Harud could or could not do for Kashmir.

Baromas

(from its facebook description)

Baromas is a feature film in Hindi based on the Sahitya Academy award winning Marathi Novel. The movie is produced by Sajith and Priyanka. The director is Dhiraj Meshram.

'I Am'- thoughts and learnings...

In my five-year career as cinematographer, I’ve worked on several different kinds of films- shorts, corporate films, music vides, documentaries, ads... I’ve even assisted on one and a quarter feature films. Of all these, some of the most satisfying experiences have been documentaries, and none more so than the film I saw a few days back, the documentary ‘I am’.
In the filmmaker’s own words, ‘I Am chronicles the journey of an Indian lesbian filmmaker who returns to Delhi, eleven years later, to re-open what was once home, and finally confronts the loss of her mother whom she never came out to. As she meets and speaks to parents of other gay and lesbian Indians, she pieces together the fabric of what family truly means, in a landscape where being gay was until recently a criminal and punishable offense.’
The film flows seamlessly through the several ‘coming out’ stories interspersed with Sonali’s own, of coming home, of the regret of not having come out to her mother when she had the chance, the wonder at what her mother’s reaction may have been, and the closure she must reach, further interspersed with a look at the largely homophobic society we live in, the telltale everyday signs in advertising and communication that reiterate heterosexuality as the only normal, the struggle by queers to reclaim their space and freedom, both individual within the family set up and collective in the society at large, and the discovery of a ‘cure’, that most bizarre of ideas propagated by some ‘sex clinics’, all set against the backdrop of the historic judgment, the repeal of article 377, decriminalizing homosexuality in India. Hats off to Sonali and to Anupama (the editor) to have made sense of the enormous amount of footage they had to deal with, and to have come up with this sensitive, moving and layered film.

When I started work on this film, I did not understand the importance of a ‘coming out’. Heck, I didn’t even know such a thing existed. My first introduction to it was through the brief that Sonali gave me over the phone. I have homosexual friends of course- a few, not too many. But we never broached the topic of what it may mean to them to be so. I suppose my friends are urban, aware people who, difficult as it may have been at first, are now comfortable with themselves and their sexuality, so that it no longer shows up in their behaviour or our conversations as something that they may once have struggled with. I had some idea of how it might strain relationships with family members through conversations with one friend, who sometimes spoke of spats he had with his mother over her desire to see him married, in spite of his orientation. But this small window was pretty much all I had.

Shooting this film was revelatory. I was brought face to face with the all consuming confusion, agony and struggle that so many of the people we met had to go through, as they spoke of the process of accepting themselves as being different, and understanding why it was so, in an atmosphere where sources of reliable and unbiased information were few and talk of sex and sexuality was taboo, let alone alternate sexuality.

There are apparently, several stages to coming out. The first is to oneself, perhaps the most important one. The second one is to family, possibly the most difficult one. And the third is to the world, which in turn may happen in steps. It is these coming out stories and the relationships with their family in their aftermath that formed the essential core of the film.
But families are units that live in societies, according to rules set by them. I should know, I have been fighting a slightly different, ongoing battle being the black sheep in the family in choosing a wildly different profession from what everyone was used to, and being single while well into my thirties. My family has been wonderfully supportive, much to my surprise. Even though I realize that they agonise over it every single day, and are occasionally embarrassed by questions raised by friends and extended family. So it was not difficult to see how much more insanely difficult it would be for Indian families to accept a loved one as being anything other than ‘normal’ in their sexual preference, at least for those from an earlier generation.
During the course of shooting the film, we spoke to many people, and their families. Everyone had stories to tell. Some of them were stories of love and acceptance, some of struggle, some of pain, many of confusion and of living in fear and stealth until that moment of liberation, and some of defiance. Of course there were some cases where the families hadn’t accepted their children as they were, and therefore getting to shoot with them was out of question.
It reminded me all over again of what a comfortable life I’d led. I remember writing about my maid back in 2007. Of how she was a mother at an age when my primary concerns were the length of my school skirt or my marks in Maths. It seemed bizarre to even imagine that someone else might have been dealing with pregnancy at the same age. Or feelings of extreme confusion and guilt because she didn’t have a crush on a boy like the rest of her friends.
Most of the people we shot with came from privileged backgrounds. That’s why they could be out there, in the open about their sexuality. These are people for whom it has been relatively easy (though only relatively) to fight society’s prejudices. These are people who are aware and informed, and are able to form themselves in groups and fight for their rights, who are able to publicly party with others of their own kind (no mean feat this, up until a couple of years back when it was decriminalised; before that being gay/ lesbian was actually illegal, and led to much oppression and harassment,) and who are able to navigate the spaces one needs to everyday whether at work or while socializing, with confidence, without letting stares and attitudes affect them adversely.
I got reminded also of an irritation that I sometimes felt towards my dear friend and batchmate in all those years of film school. I had wondered then why he insisted on wearing his sexuality on his sleeve. Why he was always as vocal as he was. The same questions arose as I shot the film. As day after day passed, I wondered why it had to be such an important part of their being, this matter of sexuality. I found the answer soon enough, a two way answer too. As it turned out, when you’re different from the crowd you’re reminded of it, overtly and covertly, by any and all, all the time. You may think that sexuality is a personal matter, but once you’re in the open, a self confessed digresser, our society does not let it remain so. These people seemed to have no choice but to fight prejudices, sometimes on an everyday basis. How then could it possibly not be an essential part of their being, a defining feature, when every single day, day after day they are being judged for it, in places and ways that ought to have nothing to do with it.
The other reason was more altruistic so to say, and I heard it voiced over and over again, by many. And that was to reach out to others like them, all those thousands, maybe millions, who are shackled by the mistaken sense of ethics coded into their consciousness, who may be beating themselves down with sense of guilt and despair, unable to deal with feelings that they’ve been told are not only abnormal, but also sinful, all those without the benefit of a concerned and informed person to confide in and be guided by. Many of them have been in a similar situation, and therefore understand the necessity to speak out, so that others may find the guidance they seek, and the courage to come out themselves.

As we shot the film, travelling from one location to another, and one city to another, I had a lot of questions for Sonali. If she was amused by my curiosity, she never once showed it, always answering in the same controlled voice that I have come to associate with her. Even when talking about her mother, her voice never faltered. It had a tinge of sadness, I often thought to myself, and a restraint that never seemed to come loose. The voice in the film and the trailer is hers, and if you listen closely, you will perhaps understand what I mean.
While shooting films, one often ends up forming friendships, especially between key crewmembers. Not so with Sonali. There was a distance she always maintained, a formal disposition that was not easy to break through. She was polite and fair and funny. She talked a lot, laughed and cracked jokes. She was almost never perturbed by anything. The most excitable that I saw her would have to be at the Pride March in Delhi. But there was something about her that still seemed distant.
Her story, only a part of which one sees in the film, was for me the seed around which the film developed and the key to understanding her motives. To say that it is an intensely personal film would yet not do justice.

You can see the trailer here and I do hope you get to see this lovely film in full sometime.

Life is beautiful

Recounting the events of an evening not long ago.

Today was one of those days. A day when things happen. And make your life a little more meaningful. But also a day that makes you question your life.

Saw Deepa Bhatia’s film, ‘Nero’s Guests’. The film itself is not spectacular but its protagonist most certainly is. The film follows P Sainath, a man who has devoted his life to a study of India’s rural affairs, and most notably its recent agrarian crisis. And Sainath is an angry man. Not hard to see why, for the last few years he has been following the trail of suicides in the cotton belt of India, a symptom, he says of the larger agrarian crisis of ‘corporatisation of Indian agriculture.’ It can’t be easy to be faced with the despair and helplessness in those thousands of faces, knowing that there’s little he can do to help them. God knows it was difficult enough to see the film without a lump in the throat.
He is also a good speaker, a fallout one assumes of the many talks he gives regularly. His knowledge of the subject is commendable, and his arguments forceful. I have read Sainath before, even some of the one-liners that he used in the film and later while interacting with the audience. (I guess in this country one ends up being repetitive in order to simply be heard.) He always comes across as well researched, and today was no exception. The pleasant surprise was to see his impressive personality and aura. Though maybe it should not have been.
The film was well made. It was a film about the agrarian crisis as seen through its protagonist’s eyes, and delivered on that front. It is high on emotional content, often resorting to emotion to drive home a point, sometimes to anger, sometimes sarcasm, and at other times to poetry and story telling. It’s the kind of approach I have often found in Arundhati Roy’s non fiction writings. It makes for very interesting reading, in this case viewing, but you come away wondering if you haven’t also been somewhat emotionally manipulated. Be that as it may, it is nevertheless an important film for the message it holds, which is urgent and yet much neglected.

I came back home to see a crowd at the corner of Ahimsa Marg, where our building stands. This street corner has been witness to much action over the last few days because of the attempts of the residents of the corner building to remove a vegetable vendor who sits on the footpath. He’s been around for awhile, as long as we have been. I never knew there was a problem with his location in the first place, after all he is just selling vegetables, like many other illegal hawkers and vendors in the city… how could he pose a problem to anyone? Besides, how do the residents of a building have any right over the footpath outside, even if it is the one adjoining their boundary wall? That is after all public property. A couple of days back when we headed towards the vendor to get some vegetables, we saw his entire lot strewn over the road, and a large crowd gathered around, with some of the ones in the centre looking rather self important. Even then I had wondered if the goons of some political outfit such as the Sena or the MNS were involved. That’s the one thing that makes us Indians brave. Connections. Backing by local rogue elements.
Sure enough today when I was on my way back from the film, I saw a small board with a picture of Raj Thackery and notice about illegal hawkers at the corner. There was also a row of stone seats installed around the corner, in place of the vegetable vendor, and the dosa and pani puri stalls that existed earlier. There was a crowd again, and upon enquiry I realized that there had been some sort of physical fight, and the police was expected to arrest the vendors.
The vendors?
I can’t help but wonder at our apathy. We want all the conveniences that the underbelly of the city provides us, such as our drivers and our domestic helps, and free home delivery of vegetables and groceries from the local kirana shop, but we’d rather not see them if possible. We believe in beautification drives. We’d rather have a row of stone seats at a corner of an intersection full of traffic, than a bunch of people trying to earn a livelihood. Where do they go, you ask? Well, that’s the government’s lookout, isn’t it?
Another story that the only one I’ve seen sitting on one of those seats ever since they have been installed, is the security guard ‘protecting’ them.

Got home finally. And found this touching photo essay, (link shared by a talented photographer friend, Zishaan Latif http://www.zishaanlatif.com)

Life suddenly seems beautiful in more ways than we find the time to appreciate.

'Jashn-e-azadi'- celebrating freedom and all that...

A few days ago, Tapan and I braved the notoriously heavy Mumbai rains to travel all the way from Borivli to Prabhadevi for the film ‘Jashn-e-azadi’, a film on Kashmir made by Sanjay Kak, and being screened by Vikalp. We reached to find policemen at the door of the building. Curious and suspicious, we made our way up to the second floor, to the venue. More policemen… and grave looking duo of Anand Patwardhan and Sunil Shanbag, deep in conversation with the men in khaki.

Apparently, the police had received an anonymous call complaining that the film contains material that is inflammatory, and its screening may lead to a law and order problem. And they were therefore there to stop the screening. The organizers were not convinced. They asked for a written order. The police didn’t have any. They asked for some time to procure one. The organizers agreed to wait till 7.30. The audience, comprised mostly of professionals, both film makers and film lovers from various walks of life, who rely on screenings such as this to keep in touch with documentary films as well as low budget and short films all of which are otherwise difficult to access, waited patiently while Sanjay and Anand held fort, trying to keep the audience both informed of the goings on with the police and entertained. There was on that occasion, a different and unusual group as well in the audience, a group of plainclothesmen, who were politely asked to leave by the host, the man incharge of the Bhupesh Gupta auditorium. It was strange, surreal almost to see several men get up from the last row and leave after it was established that they were not regular viewers and unknown to anyone in the crowd.
The police returned finally with a search and seize warrant. They didn’t have to search, Sanjay readily handed to them the only copy that he had of the film on a dvd, which they promptly seized and sealed. Their mission was accomplished, as was the anonymous caller’s. The screening was stopped, the audience had to go back disappointed and wondering how little it took to disrupt even a private event in this city. And how easy to denounce an independent voice that dares to impinge upon a subject that may only be spoken of by people ‘authorised’ to do so, such as the government and the media. It doesn’t matter of course, as Sanjay pointed out, that the media sends out its young 20 and 30 something beat journalists, who sometimes have all of a few hours, or more rarely, a few days to do all their research and a few minutes to communicate it in. That apparently is acceptable. But a well researched and thought out chronicle of the goings on in a region, shot and edited over several years, and presented in a film of over two hours, by a filmmaker of repute, is questionable and its screening to a set of professionals, a threat to law and order.
Such, unfortunately, is the freedom of expression in our country.