Shaken and Stirred

I saw this movie today...

Kabul Express is about director Kabir Khan's own experience of being a war correspondent. The film is an adventure thriller which tells a tale of 5 different people from 4 different nationalities. Two Indian television war correspondents (John Abrahim and Arshad Warsi), an American journalist (Linda Arsenio) for Reuters, a Pakistani (Salman Shahid) who fought for the Taliban and an Afghan (Hanif Hum Ghum).
John and Arshad land in Kabul to find themselves in the middle of a war-torn heaven. A gorgeous country devastated by war. The scene is from the post 9/11 Afghanistan. The film dwells on some clichés. One, that Afghas love Indians and the Hindi Cinema. This is reiterated when an Afghan warlord comes to know that John and Arshad are from India, he starts to count the names of all the Indian actors (he starts with Amitabh) and then orders a tank which will take them to Kabul (to which Arshad asks "Don't they have taxis here?"). Two, the Pakistanis and the Afghanis hate each other (they keep fighting on who actually started the war which has today torn the country apart). Three, no matter how much they have fought with each other, the common enemy is one - America. In one scene the American planes bomb any vehicle they see at night. In one scene a truck full of can of Pepsi is bombed. The two Indians fight whether it’s Pepsi or Coke. They decide to ask the American reporter who in turn replies that she doesn't drink either :P.
There are moments which show the commonalities shared by all South Asians. Like the Pakistani's fondness for old Hindi movie songs. The same man longing to meet his daughter who lives in a nearby village. But also some truth about the tribal society that Afghanistan is even today. Two Taliban men are caught while trying to escape towards the Pakistani border and are beaten up to death in full public view.
I was particularly intrigued to see this shot where the local Afghan are beating the two Taliban men. Both the Indian and American correspondents are advised to take photos and capture it on the video camera. They start with enthusiasm but are compelled to think about what they are capturing. They realize they are making money out of somebody's pity... and in this case the naked dance of somebody's death while their blood drenched bodies are kicked and trampled upon even further. I relate to this. At time I’m compelled to think if whatever I'm doing will change anything positive for that person or am I just erotizing his misery and poverty. It is a line as delicate as the line between erotica and vulgarity. If crossed its called photo pornography.
Back to the movie, I think Kabul Express is movie worth watching if one is interested to know how Afghani landscape is. Apparently, the crew got dead threats from the Taliban while they were shooting, but the Afghan government provided tight security and the movie was completed in 45 days. The New York Time calls it a Black Comedy but for me it’s realistic comedy where ever it's sprinkled.




And for those interested to know who she is, her name is Linda Arsenio. She worked in a New York Theatre group before deciding to come to India and work for the down trodden. What an act of Charity eh? Enjoy the movie and...Don't leave home...


...and a shot of how the sun looked this evening...


Rushing Home

The Brightest of'em All

Thank You for Reading

Happiness

• Posting the four pics I submitted for a photo competition with the theme "Happiness". Apparently all of them are from Poona :). Comments and suggestion are always appreciated.

While reading some blogs yesterday I came across a very interesting one for people wanting to write about India, especially for western audience. It recommends the Do's and Don'ts for the future author and how to catch the reader's attention right from the start. I recommend the blog for anyone interested in reading it.

The Outline: The view from my balcony during the evening twilight

Yesterday, while at India Habitat Centre I came across a peculiar art exibition, there were photos of circles intertwined together with threads and some peculiar looking figures. I had trouble understanding thought behind the photos but some of them were lovely. Oh! by the way, the most interesting thing on show were not the photos, but this...

and some photos. Good night...

Central Perk

A lil' frustrated these days... No French (fingers crossed), left my previous job rather unscrupulously and I'v decided not to take the new one I went for the interview to on friday. It's interesting but I don't want to do the same to this job. It will be too hectic as I have some important exams coming in march and april. So I rather sit here or read the newspapers. I have loads work but really cold and I'm being rather lazy. I need to submit some photographs to another photo competition and Im still to choose the 4 photo graphs I want to submit. The theme is "Happiness" and my view is not to submit photographs of people smiling or just having "fun". It should something more than people having fun. Happiness is much more than fun, it's more closer to the feeling contentment and goes much deeper. I'll post the 4 photos I finalize finally in the next post. So therefore my lame arse roams from here to there in the room at time watch some music vids I like... Las Ketchup, Céline Dion, Tarkan oh and Careless Whisper and Alizé in Amsterdam... and so on... it's not the best entertainment but still better than most crappy Indian news channels promising the fastest coverage. Actually I love collecting music videos, especially the retro ones- Banarama, Wham, Starship Troopers etc etc...

Central Perk

This is where we went last night. Central Park was one of New Delhi's landmark even before the a Métro station was built underneath. For 2 years now it was under construction and was recently restored with an amphitheatre and lush green freshly manicured lawns. The day ended with a nice dosa at Banana Leaf, one of Delhi's most famous place for south Indian cuisine located in Connought Place. Central Park these days has some photos being displayed on its foot paths. Some of them are below, from the 80's and the 60's when most of its parking lot used to empty and the only visible cars were the Ambassadors and Fiats. There are no neon signs and hardly any traffic in the inner circle. Some of them are posted below. Enjoi.




The 80's

Classic CP

...Also some pictures from a beautiful nursery near Khan Market

...and the Mosque by the side...

Quote: Purpose of Aggression is to destroy, purpose of persuasion is to restore.

Distances

I'm more compelled to write today rather than feeling an urge to write. They say it's the age of globalization, where borders are fading, distances are reducing and people are becoming freer to move from one nation to another without out hurdles. There was a time, not to long back, when going to the west of the privilege of a select few in India. And people who were about to go and had been to trips abroad would flaunt it with vigor. I remember some Punjabi pop stars even adding the name of countries like UK or Canada to their name to show where they live now. It was a thing to boast about. They would come back with pictures clicked under Big Ben or the Vancouver harbor or better still pictures taken with White people, especially White women as trophies of their conquest of the West or foreign lands. They had stories of how the "goras" want to be friendly with them and what to "adopt" the desi culture. A way to say how superior Indian Culture is that even the ones who ruled us once want to indulge in the very same culture they once considered slavish. But the distances no longer exists now. It's more convenient and faster to take a flight from New Delhi to New York today than to take the 3 days atrocious train journey to Madras. Many upper class Indians have more friends they boast about in Europe and America than in Delhi. They eat in Singapore, shop in Dubai and have an apartment in East London or Queens in New York. The media call them "The Global Indian". Boundaries don't exist for them. The world is their play ground. And so the governments and scientists can pat their back. We even have an Indian in space these days. You can find one even in the Canadian Rockies living alongside the Red Indians. Distances have ceased to Exist. But what about the distances that two minds create between them? No physical boundary exists between minds... and even if they do, nobody can see them. We talk about equality today... Gender Equality... Social Equality… and most importantly Economic Equality. But does somebody recognize the increasing inequalities of minds? Where one is recognized by the "difference" or inequality of thought rather than inequality of status. And does somebody know that the barriers minds create amongst them are even tougher to break than physical barriers? Just because those barriers, those walls cannot be sensed by one or more of our five senses does not mean they don't exist... Who will bridge those distances? Who will break those wall barriers? The modern world, especially our so called modern intellectuals and social scientists don't seem to have an answer and neither do the modern world discourages their construction. We have found a way to bridge the physical distances but unfortunately the inequalities of minds have only increased. So what even if two people sleep side by side, they can still be poles apart and on the other hand even if they are poles apart physically they can still be very close.
Has somebody realized that the difference between men and women is the greatest in countries with the best record in Gender Equality? They are the countries with some of the most furious feminist movements today. Has somebody realized that most secular countries have the worst cases of communal violence cases today? Or has somebody realized that some of the most unsatisfied and depressed people are found in some of the richest nations of the world? I don't have answers to these questions. We are moving fast to eliminate physical distances but nobody cares about these unseen distances...Who will bridge them?... who will break the walls? The modern world doesn't have an answer.
We MUST address these issues. We MUST make an effort to eliminate psycological barriers and they will not be ended through reservations. They will end by one complimenting the other rather than becoming the competitor. The problem is real and imminent and we must find way to bridge them sooner or later otherwise our societies will disintegrate and fall apart. The only way out is dialogue and mutual understanding rather than agression and ego.

Family Possesions

The temperature this morning is 19 Degree celcius (67 F) in my room, its much colder outside. Though this is still not the height of Delhi's winter, I'm positive the mercury will still dip further. For a few days I've been busy, not with work but with homely affairs and French. I went to my uncle's place (lets call him M1) yesterday to bring my maternal grandmother who has been asking us on and off to bring her to our place. It's another matter that when we arrived she refused to accept that she had called us. She said she will have trouble climbing the stairs to our apartment. She can hardly walk and have fallen down 2 or 3 times at M1's place. While there was nobody to talk M1 and me sat and talked from things to the first time he arrived (without being seen off properly at home) in the city to find work to how efficient the Japanese are (he worked for a factory which was taken over by Yamaha). While we were talking Mum was busy trying to persuade my grandmother to come with us. She won't budge. She is almost 82 and over a period has grown quite weak. She also has trouble urinating and eating. Mum tells me that in her heydays she was a good looking tall young Punjabi broad. She had 7 children and when the last was born the eldest was young enough to look for a job. She herself hardly did any household work but left it to her daughters to do it. the eldest was married when my Mum was in 6th standard or something. I think about it in our context. Mine to be specific. We are 4 people in the household, each with his or her own physical and mental space. But we still fight whenever we are in the common room. My grandmother brought up 7 children in a 2 or 3 bedroom house and still their relationship with each other is cordial if not the best. They have their occasional fights and misunderstanding but the best part is whenever one is in need the others will not refuse to help or sometimes they even leave their work to offer help. But on the other hand there are even those who don't want to see each other's face. They avoid each other at social functions and don't even greet if they come across. A pity I'd say. The latest juggle was on none other than their mother. My grandmother has stayed in Jamshedpur all her life (since 1951 to be precise). She was married at the age of 13 to my grandfather. That was not the unusual age for marriage in those days. My grandfather, a little older than her, didn't have any stable job in Lahore, he was spiritually inclined though. He used to spend hours meditating at the Gurudwara and also learnt to play the Tabla. He regularly toured with the Kirtan band to other places of religious interest, until someone asked his father to withdraw him back into the "real" world least he becomes a saint. As a result, to keep him away from becoming a sanyasi, they married him off early. During the Indian partition of 1947, there were riots all around when he came to see off his wife and family at the Lahore railway station when somebody told him that the whole town has been set on fire and instead of returning home he better take the train with his wife and family too. Mum recalls that during her conversation with him, he often used to regret that… "I even left the main door open in a hurry" he would often say while recalling that night. All the jewelry and precious belongings were in the house. After partition he could never go back to Pakistan to see anything that was left over. He rather moved to the industrial town of Jamshedpur. The Tata's steel plant was always in a look out for labour. Being a Sikh (they have the reputation of being laborious and hard working and there is a huge Sikh population in the town) he got it easy. The company gave him, house and other perks. He worked there until his retirement in the mid-90’s. He also got his youngest son (lets call him M2) employed at the same company as the sons get easily employed if their fathers had been the company’s employee. He died in 1999 leaving behind his only possession- his wife. When he was alive, they would sit in the veranda for hours talking about things their sons and daughters would mock about. "Look they are still talking about that old stuff" they would say. I rarely sat with either of them, but when I did I was a curious soul asking about the times, the people and most importantly how my mum was I her childhood (so that I could retaliate whenever she points out my mistake and believe me I did get some pointers and I still tease her about them). I realized that in their own mind they had built-in libraries of the by-gone era. They often talked about the customs, the traditions and most importantly the facts, which perhaps no one knew apart from them. I would engage them for hours in a conversation and realized they have sooo much to talk about, you just have to be a good listener. Infact, they don't even need the occasional "hmmm" or superficial question to make them feel you are interested (which you HAVE to do with your girlfriend). Life for them was an incomplete journey, but I never heard them making a noise about it. They accepted it the way it was, no value judgements. Now that her husband is gone she feels lonely. The concept of a soul-mate hardly existed at that time. The woman was satisfied that she has a decent husband who can get her three meals a day. When he was alive they would talk for hours, these days hardly anybody has time or they are least interested to listen to her anarchic talks. But I’ve never heard her talk about Death. She can still eat a slab or two of Cadbury chocolate and is never hesitant to ask for help. She enthusiastically attends all wedding ceremony and social functions of the family, travels frequently by train and even goes out for walks. In an era where people talk about to have perished by the age of 60 (yes I know many) or better still don’t want to be old at all I salute her courage to be Alive, to be a Participant in the workings of the family. Only her two sons (M1 and M2) are engaged in rather bitter egoistic battle to throw her custody (not a legal one) on one another. She is stunned, bewildered but still not ready to give up. Long live my Grandmother and her spirit!

(From 2004)

Whoa!

Whoa! What a Daiiiii. I didn't sleep much last night and went on striaght to the bathroom this morning. I wasn't feeling sleepy. First I got an NOC (No Objection Certificate) from my French teacher to sit for the exams (I had thought attendance might be a problem, as always :( ). Anyhow, I sat in the Alliance's library for a while but later left to get my cell phone recharged to Khan Market. The mornings at Khan Market are GRRREAT! Most of the shops are closed (apart from the coffee shops) and the golden sunshine falling on the old buildings and tree leave makes you wonder if this is what people call a perfect morning. Everyone knows Khan Market is an up market place to shop, mostly catering to the rich and famous of Delhi (I saw Priyanka Gandhi today, the other days I’ve seen Rohit Bal, Farroq Abdullah and the list goes on...). But my association with the place goes way back into my psyche. I’ve know this place since childhood. In those days Khan Market meant a nice evening meal after a nice evening spent at India Gate or any closer locality of interest. But the most I remember of Khan Market is for this...
The Annual Day of our school used to be a grand affair. I have seldom performed at Annual Day of my school and even more seldom got any prize or award. Our Annual Day function was usually held in a place called Guru Nanak Auditorium at the Qutab Institutional area. It would usually end late in the night, say around 9 or 10. My family along with the family of another girl who used to study in the same school and used to live closely would go to the Bengali Sweets shop at Khan Market. The day used to be full of joy as I didn't had to study or do other mundane jobs. The four of us would arrive in my father's scooter (Long live the Vespa) with me crushed between Dad in front and Mom in the rear. The Annual Day was mostly held in the month of December and it used to be cold especially when driving down the leafy Lutyen's Delhi. Mom would often cover me with her shawl during our ride from the auditorium to the market. I would just open my eyes to the traffic at the swanky market. Having a Papri Chat or a plate of Gulab Jamuns after a nice treat of Masala Dosa was a perfect end to the perfect day. I never knew Khan Market for any other reason until college, when I would randomly stop by to grab a burger or wedges at the newly opened McDonalds. I would also come by while randomly wandering around the city (which I used to love to do) to look for stylish people and imported cars. I still go for the same reason (and some good bookstores too). But I hardly think of the Bengali Sweets Shop now. The memories, just like the shop, have been lost in time...The place today houses two showrooms of multinational sportswear brands.

Delhi's Italian topping

For the last few days Delhi is not reeling under cold but it's typically Delhi style winters... chilly, grey and foggy. For the last two days it was foggy and typically grey. Infact, many psychologists have sounded a red alert, for this kind of Delhi winter is the reason for depression for many people.
I like dark because I prefer the night rather than the day to write. I have no particular answer why it is so. But I feel that at night I think better, creatively and aesthetically. The mood also seems perfect, for in the day I am grumpy. Nights bring me calmness and I can think better when my mind is calm thought I admit that most of the ideas I get to write about things comes from two places. One, when I'm under the shower and second, when I’m driving. I see a similarity between the two activities. When I'm under a shower I'm doing something which more or less requires no use of an active mind. The water is flowing by itself, my hands are scratching the soup on their own and therefore the mind can concentrate on the essential part - Thinking. Same goes for driving. I have been driving for a while now and though any neglect or a lost-in-thought attitude can prove to be an accident, my reflexes now are trained enough to spot any untoward activity happening on my way to sound the alarm bell to my main CPU, while my sub-conscious is busy thinking about a topic. Though I admit that at times it has almost lead to small mishaps.
Ending that point, I want to mention a beautiful photograph I saw in the latest issue of the Outlook Magazine. It's included in an article on certain Gina Lollobrigida, an Italian screen icon of the 50’s, who made a documentary on Indira Gandhi when she was the Prime Minister. She said the Prime Minister used to live in a small house and Rajiv and Sonia had one room in which they were perfectly happy. The picture, it says was taken in the mid- 70's. There is Maneka on the left, but not seen fully seen and Rajiv Gandhi (a little out of the frame) on the right. Next to Rajiv is a gorgeous Sonia Gandhi, who looks like a 70's European model brought straight from a fashion show. She is wearing, what seems like a pair of trousers with a silky red shirt and a woolen over coat. Her hair is hanging loose up to her chest and part of them is in front while her eyes are fixed at Rajiv. She is standing with her hands one in another(see pictures below) with red nail polish clearly visible on her left thumb (so very typically Sonia), exactly the way she stand outside her 10, Janpath residence in front of the cameramen these days. Next to Sonia is Gina Lollobrigida standing with Indira. She is wearing a black Chinese styled dress with flowery print with several pearl necklaces. She has a short boyish haircut and her eyes quite look like an Italian Brigitte Bardot. Indira stands next to her in a brown Saree with a little smile. I'm mentioning this because of Sonia Gandhi. Since the time I’ve seen some of her old pictures from her book - Rajiv. I have developed a deep fascination for Sonia, especially before she joined politics. I like her for her Europeaness more than her Indianess though I think today she is more "Indian" is every sense of the word we assume Indian to be. I would love to see Gina's documentary, who is marrying a guy 34 years her junior (She is 79 now). Time goes by so fast...

And for those interested in reading the articles...here's the Link