Archive for July, 2013

July 27, 2013

Ship of Theseus

Sisyphus keeps on trudging forward, up. Never rests. No breaks. The goal is hollow but the task must be done. We must imagine Sisyphus to be happy, wrote Camus. I say, we must imagine Sisyphus to be curious. The next defines the now, a choice chooses that next, and this choice makes Sisyphus free, independent and un-machine. The choice, perhaps, makes him happy.

The blindness becomes a creative volcano. Sight overwhelms. Construction and destruction are violent decisions, daily chores. The choice of letting the camera be, inside a bag, safe, unimportant. The panorama that the eyes imagine is beautiful, real and intoxicating. But so is the crossroad under a trafficked flyover.

A city wakes up. We refocus every day; to work, to pray, to fight a legal battle, to live a life. Then we reject this redundant glamour. A vast landscape of barren land with machinic interruptions welcomes us. There are pigeonholes of solitude and socialization. You go so blind doing your task, that curiosity vanishes, again. Existence-less. Pre-existence. The body merges with the environment as light falls through, almost. And then we are born again.

Computer. Numbers. Hospital bed. Bed pan. Art. Friends. Husbands. Kidneys. The impossibility of everyday life. There is nothing harder than living, though existence is a given. You try and achieve a feat so noble, so novel, it hurts. Such optimism comes to nought. This, my dear friend, is as good as it gets.

I wonder if the gods will descend one fine day and reveal their blessed selves. In the riot that will follow, they will make their voices heard. They will shout with the might of centuries’ worth of unused power. And they will ask, how do you live? And for once, in a gesture of good faith, we all will look them in the eye and breathe a conscious breath, and say, we live like cave men, ever curious.


In a way, Ship of Theseus is like the final chapter of The Clockwork Orange. So optimistic, so utterly magnificent in thought, ‘feel good’ (as a blog post put it about SOT). And this goes for the film both within and without. This, that, the other, the othered that and the this that that could have been; everyone, everything has seen pain. The bad has become the norm. The complexities of life are omnipresent, in politics, arts, science and relations. This post-modern world demands its own movement. As Anand Gandhi tweeted a while back, changing the cultural environment beckons. Let us all participate. Cynics should sleep, at least for this one.

July 16, 2013

Leo Cohen says…

“I am locked in a very expensive suit
old elegant and enduring
Only my hair has been able to get free
but someone has been leaving
their dandruff in it
Now I will tell you
all there is to know about optimism
Each day in hub cap mirror
in soup reflection
in other people’s spectacles
I check my hair
for an army of alpinists
for Indian rope trick masters
for tangled aviators
for dove and albatross
for insect suicides
for abominable snowmen
I check my hair
for aerialists of every kind
Dedicated as an automatic elevator
I comb my hair for possibilities
I stick my neck out
I lean illegally from locomotive windows
and only for the barber
do I wear a hat”
― Leonard CohenFlowers for Hitler

July 7, 2013

Lootera: Thoughts for those who have seen the film


Is film ki khasiyat ye hai ki iski kahani baaki sab cheezon par haavi hai. sab actors apne apne kirdaar nibhaate hain aur chale jaate hain magar kahani ke upar koi nahi hai. aur aisa isliye mumkin hua kyunki is film mein zyaddti nahin hai. minimal hai. controlled, restrained and hence gripping.

Is film ki har baat, har scene, har sub-plot us aakhri patte ki taraf le jaate hain. aur wo patta sirf ek emotional climax nahin hai, wo ek way of life hai, in sab characters ka aur shayad is film ke director ka bhi. Ek cheez par itna bharosa, itni lagan ke uske na hone se ultimate tragedy, maut. Koi bhi film kisi text se adapt ki jaaye to isi tarah ki jaaye. Us original ke jazbe ko ek nayi kahani mein ghol kar jab piyein to nasha aur bhi badh jaata hai. ek film (aur wo bhi commercial film) ke saath aisa karne mein risk to hai magar Vikram Motwane se agar poochein toh the risk must be worth it.


Background score aur camera ke beech ka dance bahut kuch kehta hai. chahe interval se pehle ka revelation ho ya phir ek viraan kasbe ki galiyon mein bhagdar.

The birth of love through an infliction is commonplace for cinema and storytelling, and the same has been beautifully framed in Lootera.

The less-assured camera in the second half gives the unreasonable faith believability.



Ye jo shabd hain na, minimal, understated, simple; in shabdon ke saath ek bahut badi problem hai. ye gunjaaish nahin chhodte. Agar zara bhi zyada kiya to pakde jaaoge. Baazi ka gaana hi kaafi tha, itni baatein kyun? “Dalhousie, 1954” supertitle kyun, “cigarette smoking…” to kam se kam kone mein dhundhla sa hota hai. jis bachpane aur ummeed se bulb jal-bujh raha tha usi tarah se wo patta hawa mein jhool raha tha. Uske baad ka closure kyun?

Khair, ye sawaal personal hain. Mere hain. Aur jaisa kisi bade aamdi ne kaha tha, ek film ka sachha criticism ek aur film hai, to shayad ye sab excesses meri us critical film mein nahin honge.


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