Back with Bhatt!


Its been a long hiatus and about time I broke the silence. I have been meaning to write something for so long but half formed ideas and semi polished poetry is all that I could come up with all this while. Lack of inspiration and the strong need to do absolutely nothing kept me away. Nevertheless like it is said, inspiration can be found anywhere and I never thought I would be saying this but this time around, it was Mahesh Bhatt.
I can almost see the raised eyebrows but I’ve gotten used to that. Over the past few years as the speed of Internet improves so does the access to free movies. Now, I am a huge movie buff but a bigger fan of free things and hence never guilty about a pirated/free version of music or movies although, I subscribe to a totally different school of thought when it comes to pirated books but more on that later.
For anyone who knows me well enough, it is not hard to recognize that I thrive on nostalgia. Watching re-runs of old and forgotten TV-series/movies/interviews has always been the second best thing to do, the first of course, sleeping. I might just doze off now or watch another movie and then hit the sack if I kept dwelling over that last sentence, but that’s how I came across this wonderful treasure trove of movies whose memory had started to fade since Sony TV inspired by Ekta Kapoor stopped its 2 pm matinee shows and Zee Cinema has decided to have a relay of the Barjatya productions on the weekends. I know “Zee Cinema” really!! but I am just going to skip that for now.
The late 80s and 90s were a wonderful time, the most memorable I guess in every way. Images and voices from that era are still so vivid and often remembered. It was that period of time which still held semblance of the era gone by but also was making room for new thought. It was the time in Indian cinema where a lot was changing. We now had Satan; pure evil, characteristic of the 90s cinema whether it was Maharani of Sadak, or Bob Christo in Gumrah and who can forget Jimmy from Sir. The images of these characters might be a little blurred, maybe even forgotten amongst most but well remembered at just the mere mention of the movie. These strong character sketches really set Bhatt’s screenplay apart. There was another underlying DNA common to most of Bhatt’s characters; a constantly damaging conscience. The epitome of it in Kavita Sanyal of Arth or the little more subtle form of it in Anand Sarin from Daddy or even the less noticed Sulabha Deshpande as Kaushalya in Tamanna. One can see traces of it in all of his work. Mahesh Bhatt mostly credited for his Sidney Sheldon like characterization of the female protagonists has rarely been appreciated for digression from ‘motivation by morals’ to the ‘crazy(ing) conscience’. It is interesting to note how Bhatt strengthened the nuances of screen paranoia in Bollywood and what’s more, he made his own wife perfect the art of it. Jokes apart, Soni Razdan in my mind paints a picture of the perpetually paranoid and beleaguered person even till today although it has been almost 2 decades since I watched Saaransh or Sadak. And despite the fact that I am so tempted to digress off onto Saaransh, I shall contain myself here because “Saaransh” ka koi saaransh nahi and Ill leave it at that.
And when it comes to the music in his movies, I cannot help but hum while I write this.  His perfect taste in poetry and music is something I truly admire. Apart from the fact that his movies had some of the finest ghazals and nazmz of the time they also proved to be blockbuster hits, whether it was the entire album like Arth, Naam, Aashiqui, Phir teri kahaani yaad aayi and Dil hai ki manta nai, or numbers like “Shab ke jaage hue taaron” or “Aina mujhse meri paheli si surat”.
While I am still talking about Mahesh Bhatt, I would be careful to not forget mentioning the epic he created outside of the 70mm screen, “Swabhimaan”. For all those who were still in school in the 90s, I am sure they would still recall it being a part of their routine on weekdays to come home from school to a television screen narrating the first 500 episodes of the coming wave of family saga that was going to drench us all in the coming years. I am not quite predisposed to rant on this, considering it ate up my cartoon time then but nevertheless in hindsight, apart from a cast that later went on to become one of the most critically acclaimed bunch both on screen and on stage, I still acknowledge it as one of the most progressive depictions of the usual infidelity and inheritance issue and once again I shall not fail to emphasize on the characterization: Tyagi, Svetlana, Devika, Rishabh Malhotra etc.
It is sad to see that Vishesh Films now churns out traumatic experiences such as the chronicles of Raaz, Murder, Jism, Jannat yada yada yada but that in mind, the Bhatt clan still knows the recipe of a hit whether I like it or not. Anyway just to put aside that fact so as to not tarnish my memory of some of the better days, I am going to listen to one of my favorite songs and then ofcourse sleep!

"Tum masarrat kaa kaho yaa ise gam kaa rishtaa
kahate hain pyaar kaa rishtaa hain janam kaa rishtaa
hai janam kaa jo ye rishtaa to badalataa kyon hai?"



Remembering to Forget


My blog now bears an uncanny resemblance to Aamir Khan's filmography. Unfortunately for me, my resolve to write more often, pricks my conscience only during the holiday season (American company time-off) and like every year, as I reminisce about the time gone by, it's only nostalgia that helps with the inertia. Ironically, this time around, Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind was the movie I chose to revisit some long buried memory lanes. I still remember how this movie intrigued me and why! However, it’s been a long stretch since, and while it still remains one of my favorites, my fascination for it has, over time, normalized. Having said that, the lines from the original poem still mesmerize.

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;

And with that, I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to not have memories or to be able to make them at will. Does that keep the sanctity of my sanity or destroy it? Don’t memories sometimes drive you crazy? Doesn’t losing them? And while I keep my white and dark angels at that, here is something I wrote to keep my blog’s run rate going.



There by the dying light,
Where the skies race to infinity,
The sea is calm or so the deceit,
It's there I know, that our worlds will meet.
So, from horizon to another,
I walk on for countless snows and springs,
Forgetting to remember the day as it is
Still yearning for the eternal dream.
But the sunset today is a shade less dim,
And winter too has shed its last whim,
To that I wonder, if eternity is but akin,
An endless spin from end to begin.
Now the breaking light too beckons,
To follow not but omit, the past within.
But I trudge along wondering,
What remembering to forget would mean
 

Speaking Straight!

While in the last 5 years the world got rid of small planets, we on the other hand are still are dealing with "BIG" problems of gay rights in the world's largest democracy!
Anyways in yet another discussion regarding gay rights recently, this time around a friend, also a LGBT activist, during our conversation said "A straight guy, rapes a girl in India and is asked to marry her, but a consensual homosexual relationship is a criminal act!!!".
I said, "I know Delhi has been very active but isn't the queer community in Hyderabad doing something about it?".
She was taken aback and immediately snapped at me for being so hypocritical and I looked at her, smiled and said "You are only queer as long as I am straight".
And that was my only contribution to this movement, since my chronic laziness doesn't allow me to do anything else. Nevertheless I know that at-least the LGBT community in Hyderabad will not be calling me straight anymore and I am glad. It sort of had a wrong ring to it, like something dead not natural, no? :)

A Window to the past

As a compulsive nostalgist, there is no better way to welcome a new year than reminisce about the last!

Strange are the ways of time, 
And its already another year gone by.
A new past to lament over and a little more to pine
And as tomorrow's sun shines,
I bask not in its warmth but,
Wander beneath yesterdays canopy
Trudge a little and run some
To chase shadows and follow a whisper
To look for someone lost and find none.
Then there is the drizzle and Oh what fun!
But the breeze with the familiar scent,
Now also brings with it a slight shiver
And before its too late to catch up with the sun,
I must grab a little bit of this earth,
Less I find a soul to come
And look to morrow alas,
For more than anything,
To give me another window to the past...


Musings

There are only two kinds of people in this world,
1. Those who tell you "Forget it, it was'nt meant to be" and
2. Those who tell you "You didnt try hard enough".

I wonder what is right and then again I wish I did'nt think so much.

Experiencing Life

Aah! I am feeling terrible, I can’t have the one thing I love the most...Pani puri. Yes! I can’t begin to tell you how much I love it and especially the ones on the thelas, sold by the road side. Dad strongly disapproves, but I just can’t get myself to stop. Every time I see the Bhaiya's cart on Park Lane, I am drawn towards it by some unseen divine force. But like always, I have been terribly disappointed with this affair too.
I have a terrible stomach upset and have been on khichdi and curd rice for the past two days. Aargh. I have been advised to be abstinent and avoid eating unless I am terribly hungry, and if and when I do eat, it better be in small dozes. Now this is something I don’t like, I am a die hard foodie and restricting myself to limited quantities of khichdi is terrible, and whats more I can’t even think about having Maggi! I don’t know how many of you have ever experienced this, but there are times when you are so damn hungry that even water hurts the bottom of your stomach.

It was my usual Sunday, I generally spend the entire morning cleaning and scrubbing the place. It's insane; I forget all about food and everything else until I am done. It’s this crazy obsession about having the place speckless. Ya, it’s exactly like Monica in FRIENDS. Anyway, while I was on my usual binge, I sat down for a while quenching my thirst when, it happened again and I was transported back in time, a long time back.
When we were kids, the only two places that would feature on our itinerary for the summer break were my Nani's and Dadi's place. We went no where else. While Nani lived in Calcutta, Dada and Dadi lived and still do in a village in Bihar, Kharenda. Now it's not like the villages in South India where you have proper roads, electricity, schools et al. In fact it’s exactly like the one portrayed in Swades. Kharenda definitely merits another post and it will feature on the blog soon. Anyway, I love that place and have had some wonderful moments there with cousins and family.

What I love most about country life is its serenity and purity, be it the food or the wind or the water, there is something that is beyond words, and so, I indulge, every time I go there I go crazy, all the rabri and mithai and what not. It was a time like this, I guess I must have been 8 and I can’t seem to remember what it was that time but I had my stomach all upset again, and had been on a diet control for some time. The memory has still not faded and I still can recapture it as vividly as ever.

It was pouring and we were all huddled up on the khatiya (cot) in the aangan(Veranda) and Dadi had just asked someone to get me a glass of lemon juice when I said, ‘No, pani se pet dukhta hai’, she looked at me as if I had lost it completely. And then suddenly the boy sitting next to us on the bench, the cook’s son, says “Humko pata hai, aisa hota hai, jab bahut der tak khana nai mile to aisa hota hai ki pani bhi pet me lagta hai” (I know, it happens when one has’nt had anything to eat for a long time, even water hurts).

I was taken aback, I remember looking at the boy for a long time, he was lean, must have been 11 or 12 and had curious big eyes.

I remember thinking about him for a long time, thinking about what must have made him say that, how many times must he have felt like that. At 8, I looked healthier than him, although he was stronger because of the physical exercises, or so I believed then. I felt sad and suddenly the difference between us was too obvious.

As I look back now, I realize the difference. The difference didn’t lie in our life styles but in the way we lived them. As I recollect, he had said it with a smile, his innocence reflected in it and the smile remains etched in my memory, the naivety in it stays with me as a symbol of an innocent and pure childhood.

There is a lot of unpleasantness that life inflicts upon us and we continuously try to look for ways to escape it. What if we just took a lesson from ourselves, a leaf out of our own childhood and learn to deal with it as it is, simply and naturally. Why curse and blame, why try to run and escape, when all you need to do is, face it, and accept the reality not as a deviation from normalcy but as natural as life can get.

The curious big eyes and guileless smile still remain, deep in the crevices of my memory and do seem to find their way to the top whenever I get bogged down by the ‘life sucks’ syndrome and need a reminding of how beautiful the experience of life can get.

Changing times

Night times or early morning hours are the best times in the day. It’s the only time when I have the whole house to myself with no one to nag and no one to order me around. Except for the high infiltration of mosquitoes at these times, I love it. It’s just me, my music, my very personal computer and the internet and probably some munchies. Kishore Kumar is on and he almost always makes my day, I’ll never really know what it is about him that sets him apart. Anyway right now it’s playing Ae kaash ke hum hosh me ab aane na paayen sung by Kumar Sanu from the film Kabhi haan kabhi na and nostalgia is setting in. Shikha and I almost always liked the same kind of music and the same kind of books. We would fall in love with a song and play it thirty times a day, two days at a stretch until we got sick of listening to it and this one would feature in all our saved playlists. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times and it was a crazy time. I still remember dancing at night for no reason at all and celebrating with a packet of Maggi at 2 in the night and on days when we got a little more dildaar, a packet of lays got added to the menu. Fighting over nonsensical things, I sometimes wonder if we fought just for the heck of it, no care in the world, no fears, no responsibilities and certainly no inhibitions. As I look back now, I wish I could turn back time, and I swear I would give anything to be back there with the same people. But times have changed, and so much so that at times I wonder if I have been able to keep pace. I sometimes and very often think that I stayed back; I stayed back in school when I joined college and I haven’t still moved on after college. It’s high time now. It’s been two years since college got over and I am still there. Sometimes it makes me sad and sometimes I am happy but things will never be the same. They might just get better, you never know but yeah for now those 4 years in college were some of my best days. In the middle of all this I just realized that changing times have in fact changed me too without me realizing it. I don’t remember the last time I was happy without a reason in the past 2 years or the last time I danced as if no one was watching or lost it completely and laughed until my stomach ached, for apparently no reason at all. Now I am frequently worried, restless and sad for no apparent reason, I guess that’s whats called ‘growing up’.
Crushes, first love, heart breaks, gossips, low attendance, flunking exams, ragging, breaking hostel rules, dancing on the tables in the mess et al - Ah bliss!
Seriously Ae kaash ke hum hosh me ab aane na paayen!


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