5th day with love

This another beautiful movie which I bothered to watch today, made my day. ‘Once again’, like us kids, why can not our parents or elders fall in love again? Why is it such a taboo to think of our mother or father being in love again? Why relationships or love should be felt for only and one person? Why do marriages have to be so sacrosanct that developing feelings for some one other than your partner or husband, should be considered infidelity only? Why can’t I love more then one men at the same time or may be fall in love again? 

This is the story which Shefali Shah and Neeraj Kabi, try to tell through this simple story and their beautiful acting. Story of two people, who have lost their partners, finding a companion in each other. Their love is no different from the one younsters experience. Waiting for calls, looking forward to meet ecah other, butterflies whenever you see him, try to look extra nice for him and etc. etc. Shefali and Neeraj have not inhibited in expressing what they felt for their new found love. 

But as all stories do not end on the same happy note like reality, Shefali’s son does not accept it with an open heart, just like the society. They fight, they move apart, they long for each other but when they could not, just like us, how we are rebellious  in our 20s or 30s and fight for pur lovers, they also make a valid decision to stick together. There is this dialogue in the start which says, ‘Samandar itna pass hai fir bhi itna door kyu’. It suggests  love is so near  to us but because of this society we never accept it with an open heart.

Marriages or families are suppose to make a man feel welcomed in this world and not to choke their breath by not letting them love freely. I like Periyar’s idea of ‘self respect marriages’ a lot, may be our Indian society does not need a Uniform civil code or a hindu marriage act or Sharia. But it does need somehting on the lines of Periyar’s idea. These affiliations are made to set women free and not to clip their wings. Let us give our elders, who find love late, to feel it and express it joyously. 

The Fourth Day

So today is the fourth day, I wanted to write so many things but I am too tired and won’t be able to say much.

Yes, the political situation in JNU has escalated too much. There is a curfew like situation. We have been asked to not to go to any other hostel (other than your own) past 10 pm. And also there are some rumours about closing down the library every day at 11 pm. All this is unbearable. It is so much against the JNU culture. In the past year, I have found that this is the place (in India) where you realise your freedoms to the fullest. I can walk around the campus and take the silent, woody, forest like paths to be anywhere anytime without an iota of fear. This safe I had never felt anywhere else and now that safety, independence is under danger. Ofcourse, it is unbearable. I curse the people who played this dirty politics to bring JNU down to this condition. 

Anyways i am off to sleep, see you tomorrow. 

JNU toh ‘Lal’ hai

JNU toh ‘Lal’ hai 

It is my third day here today. I am very late in posting. I have lost the key to my table drawer actually. And, it has all the things i need everyday. Aargggghhh.. i hate it. 

Anyways i can only do something about it tommorow morning only. 

All I can talk about today is jnu elections. Last night around 12 we (me and two of friends) went out to see how the counting was coming along. We were getting messages like one student was kidnapped by some abvp goons (according to the story). And other than that lot of texts were coming in about how violent and scary the atmosphere was getting and, bsf, police and riot action force were on the campus to keep a check. 

I do not want to support or oppose any party. But I really feel politics is a dirty mess. It is this one thing which you should strictly keep your distance from. I mean, normal emapthetic humans get turned into these selfish bastards ( like crazy, violent men Hobbes feared), who would go to any extent to win elections. They will spread rumors, exploit emotions, lie, cheat, bribe, backstab and turn violent etc. etc. 

This is what I have hated so far the most in JNU, the politics of jnu. May be that very thing has only made jnu but i personally do not appreciate it. It is not constructive, and deeply depressing once you get even a bit involved in it. This time if somebody asks me that who I supported, I would say NOTA. 

That was the only genuine option after seeing the hypocrises of all the parties play around as shamelessly as any habitual criminal.  On one side, ABVP was trying to provocate Left by the gundas (students actually), they had called from DU and the grass was not any greener on the other side also.After escalating the situation to a    Violent level, left backed off to earn the sympathy votes. Both the parties were together at fault for this whole drama. 

In the end, JNU once again was painted ‘Lal’ all over. This time abvp was defeated with a much worse margin then the last time. Who so ever wins, ain’t any change is going to come into my life, at jnu. Whether abvp would have won or Left alliance ( like they did), i would have still lost my key and would have still spent half the day looking for it. 

Yes, one thing I want to add is, though I am not any fan of jnu politics or any party but I do like their ‘ Lal Salam’ a lot, it is inspiring in a way I will never be able to explain. Infact, the whole sloganeering process during these peak times, i enjoy. 

BIOSCOPE

As I have made a commitment to myself to update here a small writing piece everyday, so fulfilling my duty, here I am. I am writing it down on 14th September itself ( I am in an active mode right now, two updates on the same day but i know it will fade out soon). Though I will publish this one tomorrow only. 

So today it is about this beautiful movie ( i am not sure if it was a movie though), which was bengali or marathi, I am not sure as they all sound the same to me. I watched it with the help of subtitles (I thank god for this great innovation). It was an anthology of 4 stories which were done in the form of a poem. It had few dialogues and more prose. The name was ‘biopic’ and i watched it on netflix. Netflix does not have many bollywood movies or even hollywood ones but it does have some good classics and art movies. 

So i only watched three stories, which grabbed my interest. The first one revolved around a Padmashree award winner singer, who in her old age is living on by selling almonds for her expenses. She has no regrets about money but it is her longing to get a chance to perform again which gives an intriguing spin to this simple, yet so painful story. 

The second one revolved around a boy named swapnil who runs a garage shop. He is a great chap but due to his dark complexion, he is called ‘kawah’ i.e. crow. He is madly in love with her neighbour but never owns it up in front of her. The girl also loves him and keeps waiting for him to confess but he never does. He lives, in this, constant fear of his ugliness ( i don’t think he is ugly, it is how he sees himself). The added romantic poetry which adds both sadness and zest to this unique romantic story was my favourite. 

The third one i skipped, but this fourth one was my most favourite of the all. It starts with a monologue by a man who has been in love with his childhood friend and his college mate presently. They have known each other since forever and he has loved her since the same forever. One day, he sends out a letter to her, confessing his love. The girl takes it but replies with a confession about her sexuality. This confession was to a friend and not a lover. Though the boy finds it unnatural but he accepts her with an open heart as a friend. The best part is when he starts to call her Mitra instead of Sumitra. Set in the background of independence movement being on its peak. The end note is though India got it’s independence on 15th August, 1947 but people like Sumitra are still waiting for their true independence. With the decriminalisation of section 377 few days back by Supreme Court, a part of the problem has been resolved but there is a long way to go from here. 

If anybody is reading this, i would suggest you to please watch this movie. Because it is full of emotion, romanticism, longing and desire. It is beautifully shot and of course you will love the way poetry seeps in through every nook and corner. 

Challenge yourself

I was watching this movie few days ago which revolved around a ‘home cook’, who decides to challenge herself with finishing all the recipes given in a cookbook (aprox 500) in 365 days. This was to bring some kind of routine in her life as she had to manage it with her full time job and marriage. She was a ‘giving up easy’ type of person and wanted to change that very thing about herself. 

I thought of giving a challenge like this to myself. I am thinking of making this blog more like a journal and write everyday on it. Be it more or less. I know i need a challenge like this one the most. Because I am the one who gives up on everything halfway. I hope to start this journey believing that I will write up a post everyday. And I will not give up in between. May be by sticking to this routine will eventually motivate me to stick to other things in life as well. Hoping to start this thing on a good note and good day. I wish i succeed. I will do it for atleast an year, just like her. A movie gave me this idea, i guess there is always something you can learn from everything. 

It was brilliant
The vision spectacular
They were like two strangers lost in each other
They were so apart yet so together
The eyes sparkling, hands intertwined
They were looking for some escapes
From stranger eyes

Touch was natural
Happiness too much
Hands held like they were meant to be forever
Bliss on faces
A deep thirst on lips was standing there
Like an angry little bird
The eyes were radiating moon light of the night
They were standing behind a barrel of old boxes
Again holding hands
Looking for some escapes
From the starnge old devilish eyes
They were not in love
Only full of thirst for love
Love which was impure
Which was not to be respected
By the eyes of the world
They could have stayed there holding hands
But a scandal would happen
If they held each other for too long
The cold was unnerving
The only relief was in warm breaths
Which both were releasing near each other’s ears
They wanted to come closer
But then somebody passed
And they stepped back
Still holding hands
Walking down the path they just came from
Their hands touched now and then
With deep sighs
They just went about looking for an isolated escape
Away from the eyes
Away from the world
Perhaps deep down into some woods
Where no one will see
No one will watch
No one will judge
And no one will comment.
Away from the strangers’ eyes
They went away
Holding hands
Looking for some peace

The God of Small things

Arundhati Roy, you are brilliant. You have written something beyond my expectation. I don't know why I took so many years to buy 'God of Small Things'. It was a beautiful little book.

There was no story and yet every small thing tells a story. The God of Small things, or The God of Loss, it was all about those little small things ignored in life. Never knew all those small things had the power to tell an intriguing tale of their own. Ammu, Rahel, Estha and Velutha, are hanging by my side, telling me their small stories with every minute passing by. It was a poem. The whole book was rhyming. It was like a long piece of poetry, whose melody would not let me stop. It is true the great stories are those, whose story is already known but they grab your attention, every single time you hear or read them. You have given us one such tale. The characters are confounding and rebellious. They tell you a tale with their own perspective. It is hard to hate the antagonist too because it was demanded of her, otherwise it's beauty would have been lost. Truly a master piece.

Television going mythological

Have you noticed that suddenly there are too many historical dramas being played on television. Why this sudden revival of interest in historical stories? Are people turning more religious everyday or the viewership has been reduced to few people who are only interested in misquoting the historical events and introducing mysticism into it which would be enjiyed by the viewers, who never care to question the facts. Whereas the web is experimenting with different categories, for instance the web series being produced are much more realistic and are playing with new ideas. My virtual girlfriend, maya, sexacohlic etc., are some of the topics which are unspoken of. Even short films and movies are playing with varied number of ideas.

But, why the indian television industry is getting sicker everyday?

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Something irrelevant

Every time when he says something 

It sounds like he is trying to hurt

The words are different but they all mean the same 

Every time he looks at me 

He gives me the same look which hurts 

He may look at me in different ways and at different times but they all mean the same

Every time he wonders about me

He thinks about my well being which hurts

He detests my choices and wants my well being but this all means the same 

Every time 

I hope this every time would stop 

Because i cannot take it anymore

It hurts every time just little more

Now the tears have dried and my mind is calm 

I hate this anguish we both live in

It equally hurts us both 

I wish i wish i could just tear it all away 

Me to another planet and him to another

Because no matter how much we care 

We just cannot share the same time trail 

Am I writing a tribute to The Fountainhead? No i am not, when I read it the last time I was too naive to understand the deeper implications it could have on somebody's thoughts. This time it was different, it was read with a different point of view and under different light with a little better understanding. I have loved the lead Howard Roark since i was 16, just the way Ayn Rand reveres the human form. The perfect man, as men of a free society are ought to be. I worshipped him like Dominique Francon and Gail Wyand love him through out the book. But suddenly my love for him has changed, it is not love but a longing to see men who could build my utopian world. Since it is a utopia perhaps it would never get accomplished just like Marx's proletarian state never took its true form and as lassiez faire capitalism ceases to exist today. This is so because world belongs to change and not to continuity of same ideas. The dialectics will continue till something better comes up but there will always be someone and something to challenge that better too, it is like a never ending process. What i want to convey is that Ayn Rand is wrong in many ways, she talks of individualism just like Mill or Hobbes or but her individualism comes with a dependence, a dependence on talent. She denounces mediocrity and that is where i dislike her opinions. I don't want to denounce merit, but i support the relativity of merit. Like richness and poorness are relative to each other so is the merit to mediocrity. There exists merit because there are already set standards of average. And this very fact makes her individualism based on merit flawed. She is a nonbeliever of a communist society as well as the mixed society, the reformed capitalism or socialism of the present times. But the fact is these both are incomplete without each other. A communist society is as exploitative as the capitalist society. The complete submission to any ideology is a crime because they are incomplete. Perhaps the dialectics is yet far away from a better ideology.  I don't have any solutions to this problem or to the flaws of her objectivism. I just wanted to state my opinion.