Love's many mysteries

Yes, I know I am writing after forever and I confess I have all the intentions to be more regular here but sigh ! facebook is eating into my creative self expression big time. So i reserve this space for something more exclusive and particular like the post that's about to follow

Have you ever had one of those moments of epiphany when you see much more into something others just cannot? I have had those many times and my analysis is flavoured and hued by my Mumbaikar brain more often than not in such times. Here I was sleepless like almost always meaninglessly online and transferring songs to my 2 gb Mobile phone memory card. I decided to hear one of many songs from my 30000 odd mp3 collection.  My next step ahead was much like  any other internet addicted idiot box less person . I searched for the song on youtube. While i was searching for "Yeh dhuan" from Charas with Namrata shirodkar grooving amidst smoky hills of manali, I landed up on Dia Mirza and Emran hashmi crooning "yeh dhuan dhuan sa rehne do" with brilliant piano rendition by Richard Clayderman( an artist who I have worked with in past and goes without saying that I am in awe of).

So I decided to see the song since I like to music despite the fact that the film it belongs to is sheer disaster in second half due to director troubles. I had  conveniently forgotten the genius of Anurag Basu ( director of the flick who discovered his cancer illness during the filming of Tumsa Nahin Dekha  - flick in question) and vulnerability of man who is still a roguish boy really (Emran Hashmi  - the lead actor).

The song struck to me like a tonne of bricks had fallen on my half drunk head - thanks to two pegs on old monk i had gulped on saturday night as compensation of missing Gay bombay parties I frequent. Let me sum things up for you.  What  has always appealed to me about the basic plot of this flick is that - it sets premise of a poor bar dancer girl and richie rich boy in love coming to terms with their reality. The girl lives in hope of finding someone who would love her and also marry her to redeem her from the stigma and embarassment of her vocation.  The boy spoilt by abundance thrives on need to fulfill his whims and fancies including that of having the woman he desires and loves with him as cherry on the cake he hasn't quite enjoyed by himself.

The conflict sets in when his grandmother refuses to offcially grant sanction to this love story and threatens to take away his much seeped habitual riches in case he pursues marriage with the bar girl. This leads to something unheard of in Indian cinema atleast. Our man clearly admits his weakness to the girl he loves that he cannot abandon his luxuries for being with her. He wants both and thus offers her to be his mistress for insane sum of 4 crores, which would solve all her issues. She does not need to be a bar dancer anymore or  be looked down upon by others as money silences all wagging tongues. Now it is upto her to either support him in getting engaged to a girl of his stature just as a social farce or to demand what she longs for - marriage and status as a wife. ( i will come to my connection with this point later)

It is at this juncture that the boy says yes to being engaged to the proxy girl but invites the bar girl to come to his engagement as well. She comes there apprehensive and vulnerable as his love is something she can't do without and here on starts magic of these two people - Anurag Basu and Emran hashmi.

The technical aspects of cinematography and framing compensate for poor production value associated with Vishesh Films ( a  production House i both adore and get irritated with for their matter of fact approach to movies). Lighting is brilliant and our boy  expresses his helplessness and passion first discreetly while playing piano like many other rich brats we see in hollywood . Its the effectiveness of this under rated actor's expressions and the tenderness of music and lyrics that build up the momentum. As we move ahead, full throttle vocals of roop kumar rathod hit you like a sudden gush of cold breeze awakens a person traveling sleepily. I was pleasantly surprised at poise of diya mirza (definitely directos's input) which is complimented by technique to show her silent in the party but singing in her fantasy. To each movement, verse and action,  her bar girl character is responding almost in her mind's eye (vision set in picturesque lonavala valley).  Interesting to say the least how the continuity is blended well and the core of the story and its characters maintained. Surely, a bar dancer would not openly revert to advances of her lover if she is attending his engagement. He continues and she silently partners cos her love is above all.  Her will to be his wife, his actions of hurting her by proposing her to be his mistress - dont exist in the moment where they both ask for the time to just be dewy and hazey just to say what their heart wants to speak to each other. Their expression of love is silent but very visible.

Now i will let  you watch it before explaining my perspective apart from cinematic brilliance of the moment so well built

So now that you have seen the passion and heard the melody, I can share that My ex is married to a girl. Before marrying her, he shared it with me that he needed a family and  was not strong enough to alienate his family by choosing to live with a gay man.  He needed me by his side as he feared rejection from the girl's family and I stood by him till his proposal was accepted. I had an option to have him dependent on me  for lifetime and stay  as third angle but I chose otherwise. I would have had all that I had dreamed of but without the tag of being his life partner, which I didnt agree to.

my questions ensue...

As a urban resident of this big bad metropolis, do you think she should compromise her love for just a title of mistress instead of wife even though she will have the man she loves by her side, looking after her and her woes of being a girl who thrives on skin show coming to an end?

Do you think the man who does not attempt running away with her and then failing,  becomes any less a human?

Do you think it dilutes that spark in eyes when you see that one face in crowd that you long for , if your life is as complex as of these characters?

Do you think in a city like Mumbai, there wont be straight or gay versions of these lovers anywhere?

Do you think any of us have any right to judge any two individual's life and chemistry because of their choices?

Do you think if the character or I had chosen to be with the man who needs his marriage along with love on the side, would we be any less human?

Do you think amongst love's many mysteries - one of them is that denying yourself the proximity of your lover is most difficult no matter how wrong is the choice?

Please think and respond :)

My name is change

You can call this a review of My Name is Khan for a lack of any better term but it remains my creative self expression (CSE). This term defines the movie My name is Khan for me.

It is creative self expression of a filmmaker who is growing beautifully into someone who thinks, loves and understands Cinema and its dynamics - Karan Johar. It is CSE of an actor who is making choices now that form and expand his legacy of being the most loved star of India today – SRK. It is CSE of an actress so brilliant that her mere presence on screen is more precious than the enormous fees that some queens of Bollywood rake up annually - Kajol.

Not that they are not flawed in this film, it is human and they have erred at places. Karan Johar loses the grip at times with not so crisp editing, some camera angles and usage of music affects the story movement – the whole hurricane incident looks forcefit to take Khan to the President and end the film. The setup in america alienates the film to Indian audience to quite a degree. Shahrukh’s performance is brilliant but the character’s disability is not practically etched. Kajol is sunshine on screen but her character again shows no insight into how and why she bonds with this different man. Now that the nitpicking is done, let’s get back to the good part.

My name is Khan is not KKHH, K3G or KANK, neither does it want to be nor does the audience today want it that way. The world is fast changing and truth of today needs to be brought to the big silver screen. This movie attempts to do so more than any RGV flick being dished out in the name of real cinema.

All said and done, My name is Khan is CSE of the change that we all are facing today and our beliefs through a medium we all connect to – a film. I saw My name is Khan with a kashmiri muslim single woman who i call baji (elder sister in Urdu). It was two of us with little to do on Saturday without our usual bunch of friends and party hopping drive. We entered the theatre on second weekend not because of the controversy or being an ardent fan of cast & crew mentioned above. It was because we both wanted to see what Indian cinema is dishing out today.

We saw Rizwan, smiled through his journey from Mumbai to America. His world was different to say the least. His world reflected our core beliefs in goodness of all humanity- something we expect out of an Iranian or European cinema – not Indian of course. He coped with his fears much like all of us once we leave homes and face the world – something we see in American and british entertainment dished to us through satellite invasion. His hopes were shattered due to a bigger event (death of Kajol’s son) so much like our lives which go through constant upheavals due to bigger changes (every family has had a death that changed lives connected with the deceased). Rizwan didn’t choose to yet move ahead in life and pretend that no change affects him. He dealt with the changes and explored his connection as a change maker upholding his belief through every situation.

We had both seen forrest gump enough number of times but this wasn’t him. It was Rizwan Khan clearly – his identity echoing every Indian muslim who ventures out hoping to camouflage his difference due to misnomers of the masses hungry to brand them violent, regressive etc.

When we left the auditorium, we could reflect on the issue rather than talk about the scenes, length of the movie, acting, cinematography or xyz that we would normally discuss. It was back to our lives where her identity as follower of Islam and all its rights were never questioned as much as my being a hindu (Nicherin Buddhist practitioner) and wrongs of Shivsena. We could see and agree that it has been a norm to see muslims in a wrong light more easily for quite a while now in our daily lives too. There is a certain hitch that a hindu landlord in Mumbai feels while renting his apartment to a Muslim family.

I remembered the times she has told us about the peace loving aspect of Islam along with Zakaat and other heartening aspects being misinterpreted. I remembered her anger every time some discrimination happened to the good stick figures with candy because of evil stick figures with canes. The movie was over and we had changed. We were conscious of our identities – good people who must convey it to others in no uncertain terms that we choose to be good. Our way forward was clear too - to be with good throughout life.

The movie might be considered good, bad or ugly – a blockbuster or just a marketing case study, it gave me just one heartening thought thanks to Karan Johar & Shahrukh. Our names might be Samina, Praful, Savio or Surjit – we are all khans. We all have to be the change we want to see outside in the world

Too quick Too murugan I say!

Imagine Tamil Nadu instead of Texas. Imagine a Cow boy who is vegetarian and protects cows. Imagine a local goon who is tamil rowdy with afro wig. Imagine bullet fight that brings thrills of Rajnikant gun fights to this set up.

Thats where we begin the joyride of Quick Gun Murugan and further on it goes whackier, crazier, insane but intelligent and entertaining all through out. Quick Gun Murugan is not for those with weak palate. A heady mix of tamil, english and very little hindi, this movie spoofs stereotypes alongside making statements so smartly that its dark humour is packaged in eastman colour.

The Smart gun here being director Shashank Ghosh who gets thumbs up from me for pulling off what would have been a series of incoherent plots in hands of any other director given the same script. He uses the cliches and turns them around with such zest that result is outrageous like the typical 80s tamil film "Brothers/ friends meet after many years" sequence where bank employee elder brother and Quick gun both have a gun fight at home and the sister in law looks upon dotingly at both.

Also the quirkiness of QGM coming back from the dead, vinay being Mr. C gupta - chitragupta and depicting nymphs having dance rehearsal sessions, Locket lover - Lola Kutty's portions, Rambha's character dressed in Pink all throughout, Post coital payasam, Rowdy MBA helping retail chain owned by rogues, Best Dosa Making Mummies kidnap sequence, tiffin terrorist attacks... all are first rate in laughs. Music, art direction, camera, SFX all go with the mood of the movie though personally I think the length could have been curtailed a bit and Nassir been given something better to do as Rice Plate reddy

I recommend the movie for a dull evening with a large bunch of friends preferably one or two south indians to further dwell on the jokes from the film like the board in background of a sequence : "Institute of Coconut Tree Climbing" and Sohaib Illyasi act of Ranveer "Ab Jail ki salaakhon ke peeche Maut ki laal chutney peeso"

Watch it. I Say!

In the name of life

I danced the night away. Clinkering glasses of wine and spirits added to the rhythm of the night. We bathed on dance floor in colours of celebrations painted over our moods- blue and battered from weekdays of struggle at work. Escaping from an earful by the boss, parents and loved ones, our refuge was perfect only until on my way back I saw a man with his son, dressed in pristine white unapologetically sleeping on a park bench.

Skies began crying. It poured in streams and not droplets as if Mother Nature finally had turned teary eyed without any sobs or sound. Maybe she was not in mood to be consoled

They ran for shelter while I rolled up windows of my cab. The little one clutched big hands and tried to shake sleep off his eyes. Dreams were not meant for him. It was in harsh waking truths that his life was to shape up. I don’t know why but i stopped the vehicle near them. The man was apprehensive till I showed my press badge and asked if everything is alright. He asked me to watch over his son till he fetches his stuff he left behind near the bench and I nodded silently asking him to cover his head with a newspaper I had in my bag. As he moved some metres away with fast sogging offering that I had given him, cabbie asked the boy what they were doing there at this hour. The boy looked up and turned towards the man and just to let us know that if he tells us as the man would be angry.

Considering it a kidnap or some such shady business, I probed further and prompted the boy to speak up if there is anything wrong. I told him sleeping in park is illegal and police officers would be happy to get them moving if I complained.
At my attempt, looking down he muttered unapologetically that there is no need. Their landlord had thrown them out and his father – the man that he was with had no money, so they were waiting for the temple doors to open in the morning. By the time, he finished a few more details about where they lived and the tea stall that they had nearby, the October rain stopped, and father returned. I offered them a lift if they wanted to go anywhere and he refused. After which I asked the cabbie to move from there.

Yes, I was smashed yet, not with the drinks but with my own view of life
There might be many 8 year olds in this world calling sky their home, a few supporting their parents in daily struggle without knowing the role that they play. That kid for me is answer to my prayers for guidance about my life. I could never pray specifically and always asked god to show me the answers as i move ahead in journey of life. Today was a landmark, a reason to celebrate as true reverence and faith had met me in person. They were contained in a small frame with a smaller mind, big eyes and bigger questions but yes the child and his self respect was bigger as he never asked for money which a child would normally and easily in this situation and stood being half drenched with rains instead of seeking convenient comfort from helpful strangers.

His determination shone in his eyes to move ahead and change the situation without being apologetic and to face the life like his father who did not expect this young life to seek help elsewhere. I remembered my maid who helps my landlady run her household in clockwork precision keeping my mind off the trivialities. Also about the watchman who guards my home 24x7 with his meagre pay, the rickshaw drivers who have left me at my correct destination when I did not have a clue and strangers who were hardworking poor people without begrudging their challenges in life.

On the other hand, I had my day job, the deadlines that I was ready to crib about, and my humble abode which lacked the best paintjob i desired. I realised at that moment the easy route of self pitying behaviour prevalent in the queer community of my city. There are challenges that lie ahead of us – social acceptance, section 377, fear and misunderstandings at every junction of our lives.

I asked myself while climbing the stairs towards my home when I visit the parties and hang out with friends or date, what is the void that needs to be filled? It is the spark of determination that the kid had. His acceptance of his realities and will to support his dear ones through it rather than an easy rebellion route or self-pity can guide each one of us.

I was sleepy and ready to enter the realm of dreams. The ones that showed the blue print of change required in our attitudes. The brighter, better tomorrow where each one of us brings to the fore – our unique views and creates value rather than spilling over petty issues of sexual compatibility with the cruisers at a particular location.

I guess it is these experiences that are humbling and for which Billy Joel wrote River of dreams which I am ready to enter blissfully

Summer days of contradictions

It’s a sunny day today. Pleasant and familiar, taking me back to the idle afternoons of childhood and discovery of many joys in boyhood. My world as a child revolved around my home in a sleepy suburb of Mumbai. Somewhere close to the mean madness of the metropolis, my township provided me ample of adventures to last one summertime after another.

I witnessed my best friend’s upbringing in a cliché south Indian fashion where life ideally is as simple as an idli. The formula to follow is to bury your noses and more into books while in school and college and at the most learn carnatic music, bharata natyam or join a chess club if inclined towards extracurricular activities. Simultaneously my Punjabi upbringing had its share of problems of a disjointed nuclear family that hadn’t been able to find any roots in this city except a small flat in the suburbs. Most of my family which would have been responsible for my identification or association with my culture or traditions was in north India, scattered like beads of a gaudy ornamental necklace.

As far as the environment goes, this apartment was the only thing that connected me to my neighbours, none of whom had a wish to dream big, leave alone ambitions to conquer the city they were a part of.. An opinion was considered lethal for a kid my age and determination was viewed as an inconsequential part of a child’s make believe games. Somehow I knew from day one that I was a square peg and should not even think of trying to fit into these round holes. I wore similar clothes to their kids, I had same issues like the lack of money, space and privacy as most of them, but I never let the awareness of my distinction sink into depths of my mind. It didn’t need recall even though I gained expertise in local dialects and could hold a conversation in Marathi as fluently as English, much to the amusement of my neighbours.

As a true blue member of the bollywood city, I had started my reading one summer looking at a movie ad in paper and reading it in roman Hindi with the alphabets S-H-O-L-A-Y. This biggest hit of Indian film industry may not be in my list of personal favourites, but does hold its significance just like these incoherent facts. Well let’s put things in perspective. Though I enjoyed being a witness to my friend’s life which worked in clockwork precision and produced some wonderful results for him, I never regretted not having much order in my life.

Through my college, I sang, danced, and acted on stage and off it into jobs that I fancied, while he studied to get top grades, as if he would ace in life if he topped his class. His summers ended with results of his annual run to the winning post, mine just were intervals till I returned to be my old social butterfly self.

In a summer after college, I fell in love, maybe for the first time as earlier I had loved my girl friend but wasn’t in love with her. This time it was a boy from US who found me online. My afternoons were sunny with smileys, days were filled with reading print outs of romantic emails over and over again. Maybe it was the heat or blind puppy love, but if there was a smile that mattered to me, it was his. I basked in radiance of his love. We planned gazillion things about his visit to Mumbai, our life in coming years and more like two kids, sitting idly deciding lives of their dolls in the perfect pink plastic house

I moved out of my parent’s home but he didn’t turn up online for long. I called his dorm to know that he hastened his chemotherapy as a medical student authorized to do so for a non-malignant tumour in his head and had expired due to brain hemorrhage. That summer didn’t cheer me up. The memories of it still don’t fade. Harsh brightness of the days mocked my dark life and warmth scalded my heart. His memories were coupled with a knowledge that no one else in the world probably knew his true nature. His thoughts, emotions or desires were all unknown, uncared for and died with him. I lived for the seasons to change, rain soaked my spirit and winter froze the fire of anger within.

Today, it’s been many years since and many people have come and gone in my life. My friend still awaits his arranged south Indian marriage and works 24 x 7 like a good boy. He hasn’t faced deaths except a few old relatives. That’s because he didn’t venture out much in sun listening to his mother who warned him of burns. I remain friends with him and connect as frequently or infrequently as per my work. The reason for doing so eludes me. Maybe I want to be rooted in ordinary mundane life too even if I fancy my alternative lifestyle. Security of love and family still has value for me as it has for him. But for me, summer is knocking again. Mornings are arriving earlier and twilight seems to evade me. The question remains what to expect this time. Nostalgia remains and enthusiasm for new day too. Summer strikes and I wait for its bittersweet contradictions to unfold. As I head towards an unknown destination jogging early morning, I reach a conclusion that no matter which road u take, the sun will shine bright. It’s for us either to stand in way of its light and warmth completely and bloom from bud to a flower or to stagnate with security of never reaching our true potential in shades.

Never Say Never

Some love it, some hate it, and No one could ignore it. Kabhi Alvidaa Naa Kehna surely packs a punch. While it literally means, “Never say good bye”, it also marks coming of age and opening of Indian mindsets. What is your idea of romance? Pristine white as vanilla set up of boy-meets girl, they fight with all odds and marry each other and live happily ever after? We have been fed with this imagery by Indian movies for well about more than quarter of a century (that would be my age). For me I think this is utopia. People hide their not- so-perfect relationships or live in shame if they fall in love with those who they were not supposed to fall in love with. How many of us have cursed ourselves for loving someone we did not want to fall for and then how many of us have got an equal response and regretted all of it without questioning why? Why should we ever be ashamed of our love? Why should we ever feel helpless just because of guilt resultant from internalizing social taboos?

When the protagonists of this movie are faced with a dilemma of either being unfaithful to their unhappy relationships or being untrue to their dreams of what could be a perfect relationship, they choose to go the infidel way. The beauty of the movie is that these characters are not any weak, emotionally foolish or horny types, which form the cliché to justify an illegitimate or extra marital relationship. These characters are aware and equally empowered to chose the suffering and continue enduring it, but they instead chose to risk it all for a few smiles, some find some strange answers to beckoning of their hearts and are trapped when the guilt strikes and again they decide to go back and pour equal passion and honesty in their married lives. The problem is, will they be accepted now? Will you or will I?

We should be aware at all given point of times that it’s we, all of us who collectively form a society. Awareness of the changes we want to bring about and propagating them helps, its done one step at a time. While 12 years back Aditya Chopra expressed the thought in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, where a girl has a right to chose her life and be happy without compromises even if she is not being a perfect obedient Indian daughter. Society began being a bit more accepting towards love marriages.

Now the focus has to shift from what will the world say to how far will I go to realise my dreams? This forms the core of Kabhi Alvidaa Na Kehna.

Even though some parts of the movie resemble an irritating email forward you would like to delete, I would say that the sheer cheek of honest representation of infidelity sans Mallika’s bheege hont or Taboo’s feminist fury (remember Astitva) is laudable. It’s chic as much as Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, more emotional but not as melodramatic and loud as Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham and is rocking box office across the globe.

The reason for its success can be the fact that Indians take great pride in morality but treat it very callously. Though there can be murders, political wins and more in the name of moral policing, there are very few who actually understand them. It takes a very sensible person to know his boundaries and to know his limits, fix them up when the need be and make new ones when the time comes. The rigid systems and clinging orthodox patterns have to be shed in every way for evolution of a better society. My point is not that Infidelity is right. Every body has a right to find love, where they want and when they want. Being judgmental is easy but understanding what it means to them is difficult. Unknowingly our prejudices, acceptance and our attitude or approval of someone else’s life may affect them immensely.

India is a country of arranged marriages and compromised lives after that. I know atleast a dozen such couples that are not trying but just hoping that some how their relationship works. Kabhi Alvida Na kehna is for all of them, for my parents, maybe yours, for many children who remember misery in their parent’s lives due to unhappy marriages.

Coming back to the film, I liked the attempts to keep the subject light. The brilliance of the scene where SRK and Rani are cheating but jealous when they think their spouses are having an affair. In true blue KJ style, he brings grand sets, melodious music, conceptually treated songs (Tumhi Dekho na’s synchronicity of colours was a concept well executed). He tries to dish out eye candy in the form of Kajol, John Abraham and Arjun Rampal. While the first two do just fine, Arjun shows his hangovers and age unlike his earlier greek god looks. It proves my belief of you cannot take nature for granted come alive.

Interestingly, Karan pays tribute to many of his favourite cinematic moments and live anecdotes in the movie. The Harmless flirting of Kirron Kher and Amitabh Bachchan is a result of the big social gatherings of Punjabi/ Sindhi families where you are sure to be caught in crossfire of some such scenes. Also I couldn’t help but notice the usage of silhouettes of a man and woman, wet with rain and passion hugging just like Raj Kapoor and Nargis, but in true KJ style they were against the NY skyline.

And last but not the least, a special mention on Amitabh Bachchan. I am ot the one of his die hard fans and could notice that its only someone like Karan who can get the man to do roles like Sexxy Sam with such ease or else he is tuck up with his Baghban/ Waqt / Veer zaara kind of routine…

To sum it all, alpha male meets the pining female incomplete without his love, Years later when their imperfection and unattractiveness is at peak for the world, they find calm in one another. But as it happens in all Indian movies (the director knows it’s a Hindi movie after all) the good Samaritans and the faithful spouses dump the unfaithful one to lead a lonely life. The unfaithful ones have to regret their decision of being honest and confessing… believe me it was not for spending a night together.

It’s been a long blog but the short and appropriate end would be Kudos KANK, Kudos Karan.