What A Year!

Two more days, and year 2020 will be over. What a year this has been! Everyone of us has a long list of things they missed out on. Since the outbreak of the pandemic, our lives have changed. No going out, home is the refuge. No socialising, no guests. It has been a long period of hibernation. Things like going for a walk, going shopping, meeting friends, attending cultural events, travelling, and eating out have been long forgotten. One always took these things for granted, but they have become luxuries now. Following the protocol to fight the virus is the top priority. 

For many, this year brought material loss like losing jobs or losing means of earning a livelihood. For others, it has meant losing near and dear ones to the pandemic. For almost everyone, it has been unsettling; bringing a sense of insecurity, uncertainty, and fear. Personal interactions, that were an integral part of our existence, reduced, making way for social distancing. Family gatherings, getting together to celebrate or grieve over a certain event, meetings of any kind--social, cultural, religious, academic, business--have had to be curtailed.

Looking at the other side, over the last several months, we have realised some things; like the goodness of home-cooked meals, the joy of spending time at home with family, and the importance of people around us who help us with domestic chores, who supply items of daily needs to our homes, and who keep our neighbourhoods clean. We have seen the sacrifices made and risks taken by all those who attended to their call of duty even when the pandemic was raging. A big salute to all of them!

The powerful virus that has had such a wide-ranging impact on all of us, is taking its own time to relent. But when it does, let us not forget the lessons it has taught us. Of valuing the fresh air and the sunshine, the smile on a loved one's face, the laughter of family and friends filling our homes, sharing our joys and sorrows with loved ones, pats on the back, holding hands, and hugs. Let the New Year be the beginning of the end of these difficult times!

Mee Raqsam: I Dream, I Dare, I Dance!

 "Mee Raqsam" (Persian for 'I dance') is a delightful little production--95 minutes, short for a Hindi feature film--even though it handles a sensitive subject of freeing art from religion, gender, class, and other interferences. The art form it chooses to focus on happens to be Bharatanatyam and the setting happens to be Mijwan, a tiny hamlet in Uttar Pradesh's Azamgarh district. Presented by Shabana Azmi, and directed by her cinematographer brother Baba Azmi, the film is a tribute to their father, noted poet and lyricist Kaifi Azmi, who was born in Mijwan 101 years ago. 

The story showcases the tender relationship between a modest tailor Salim, and his 15-year-old daughter Maryam who dreams of pursuing Bharatanatyam. The father goes out of his way to fulfil his daughter's dream, sensing that this was one of the ways for the young woman to cope with the loss of her mother. Hadn't the mother and daughter shared some beautiful moments dancing together on the rooftop of their humble home?

The duo has to fight their own family first and then others, when the girl starts attending a Bharatanatyam school. Why? Because a Muslim girl taking lessons in a classical dance form that is steeped in devotion to Hindu deities is unthinkable, and simply not done.

Maryam's affinity to dance spells trouble for her father, but his support for her is total and unflinching, even at the cost of facing criticism from family, being ostracized from the community, and losing his customers. Salim's predicament pains Maryam. But what keep the film upbeat are the positive vibes between the two, their bond shining through all the ensuing ups and downs. 

Shot on location in Mijwan, the film is paced gently. Danish Husain as Salim and Aditi Subedi as Maryam deliver sparkling performances. What makes Aditi's feat remarkable is that she was brought up in Mijwan and did not know any Bharatanatyam before being a part of this film. Her effort is whole-hearted and sincere. Naseeruddin Shah as the influential community elder is superb as usual, delivering menacing lines with a calculated coolness. Maryam's aunt, grandmother (wonderful Farrukh Jafar in a smallish role), dance teacher, the patron of her dance school, village elders and youngsters all fit the bill nicely. 

All in all, the film is a lovely package, with emotion, drama, music and dance thrown in. Heartening to see such stories that entertain, and deliver a good message too!

Find more about the making of this film here, where Chennai-based journalist Akhila Krishnamurthy is in conversation with Shabana Azmi, Aditi Subedi and Deepali Salil who trained Aditi in Bharatanatyam.

Mee Raqsam is streaming on Zee5.

Cycle: A Delicate Balance!

A strikingly handsome yellow bicycle, a beautiful village set amidst coconut groves by the seaside in Konkan, and a handful of simple people oozing with goodness...these are the main ingredients of "Cycle" (2018), a Marathi film I watched on the telly recently.

Set in 1958, it starts off as a light entertainer, centred around the family of a modest astrologer Keshav--a kind-hearted man who is liked by everyone in and around his village. He is the proud owner of a stylish bicycle that he has inherited from his grandfather, who in turn had received it as a gift from a British officer. Keshav, an otherwise balanced man who is happy and content in his humble surroundings, has just one angularity: he is so possessive of his bicycle that he would not part with it for anything.

We are treated to magnificent shots of idyllic rural life in scenic Konkan all through the film, thanks to Amalendu Chaudhary's superb cinematography. The other dominant feature is the innocence that pervades the film through events, characters and visuals, making it a relatable period drama. In fact, if you don't relate to the innocence, and look at the morals, values and interpersonal relationships using today's yardsticks, you might end up raising questions here and there and losing out on relishing the sweetness of the film. Instead, go along with the spirit of "Cycle" and enjoy the ride!

When Keshav's beloved cycle gets stolen, he is devastated beyond belief. He sets off on a search for his prized possession, and finds himself on a path towards more profound discovery. Similarly, the two thieves who steal the bicycle, find new doors of realization opening for them. All this is shown through lively little incidents involving village folk and lead characters, and not in a drab, preachy way. This is what makes the film remarkable.

Life in the late fifties has been showcased tenderly, sprinkled with touches of gentle humour. It is heartwarming to see people share and give from what little they have. Their small joys and uncomplicated lives make us yearn for the same.

Hrishikesh Joshi as Keshav, and Priyadarshan Jadhav and Bhalchandra Kadam as the two thieves fit like a glove in their roles. Their characters undergo a change in their attitude towards life, and all the three actors have handled it very well. Deepti Lele as Keshav's wife, Maithili Patwardhan as their daughter, and rest of the supporting cast are all very good. Aditi Moghe and Prakash Kunte as the writer-director make a superb team.

It is indeed refreshing to see such films being made in Marathi. They show great promise in all the departments, cover diverse content, entertain and deliver a good message, all at the same time!

Gulabo Sitabo: A Quirky Combo!

Gulabo Sitabo are two puppets well-known in the folklore of Uttar Pradesh, sometimes they portray a pair of warring sisters-in-law, at other times they could be the mistress and wife of someone. But in any case, they are constantly bickering with each other about this or that. Early on in the film, we get a short demonstration of the duo in action, being handled by a puppeteer on the roadside in Lucknow.

Ambles in Mirza Chunnan Nawab. a gawky old man in a filthy kurta and short pajama, his tall frame bent in a hunch, eyes hidden behind thick glasses, bulbous nose sticking out, head covered with a scarf, and sporting a flowing white beard. Mirza picks up the puppeteer's kitty from the mat spread out in front of him, and limps away nonchalantly to his haveli, a crumbling old mansion way past its days of glory.

The grand old mansion "Fatima Mahal" has been inherited by Begum Fatima, a woman in her nineties who happens to be the wife of Mirza, 17 years her junior. She lives in her own world, rarely stepping out of her quarters. Pampered by her attendant, she enjoys relative luxury upstairs, compared to Mirza who is relegated to a room somewhere downstairs. This odd couple seems to be occupying the haveli from time immemorial. They are childless, but they have families of several tenants for company, who too appear to be living there forever, paying pittance to the landlady for rent.

The tenants are a disgruntled lot, struggling to survive in the abysmal conditions in the worn haveli, their woes exacerbated by the petty actions of Mirza, who keeps discovering new ways of making life difficult for them. The most vocal among them is Baankey Rastogi, a flour mill owner who lives in a part of the haveli with his mother and three sisters.

This is the delicious set-up around which Juhi Chaturvedi weaves her story, and Shoojit Sircar calls the shots as the director. The haveli, though dilapidated, has many lusting after it including Mirza, Baankey, a government officer from the department of archaeology, and a builder. Their greed makes them play a game of trying to outwit one another in order to acquire the property. The begum, seemingly oblivious to all this, relaxes in her chamber, sleeping peacefully under a mosquito net or getting henna applied to her hair.

The film has an old-world charm. The haveli, which is the piece de resistance of the story, has been captured very lovingly on camera. Its facade and interiors look awesome even in their run down condition. The outdoor shots bring alive streets, markets, arched gates, skyline, spires and domes of Lucknow, lending it a lovely local touch.

Amitabh Bachchan looks and acts a bit too old for his 78-year-old character, but he has maintained his bearing, complete with the prosthetics and the limp very well. He has had to tone down his famous baritone to a mutter. Some might feel that he has been reduced to a caricature, but full credit to him for carrying that look with conviction.

Ayushmann Khurrana as the school dropout looks every bit the flour mill owner that he is supposed to portray, his clothes dusted with flour. His social awkwardness is a result of his underprivileged background, in addition he has to deal with a well-to-do girlfriend, and a sister who is smarter than him. He is always at the receiving end of Mirza's petty acts, struggling to hold his own. The two indulge in a cat-and-mouse game that doesn't exactly set off fireworks, but generates some amusement. He speaks with a slight lisp, perfecting the lingo of the region he is supposed to be from. With this role, he has added one more character to his repertoire.

Vijay Raaz as the "arcology" officer, Brijendra Kala as the lawyer, and Srishti Shrivastava as the spunky go-getter Guddo are all spot-on in their performances. In fact, this film is more about sparkling performances than anything else. They are what carry the film through its slow pace at times. And they are what lend gentle comic touches to it. The dialogues are effervescent, and speak the language of "Nakhlau".

Lastly, it is Farrukh Jafar who is wholesome, funny and spirited in spite of being in her mid-eighties. She plays a woman in her mid-nineties and has the last laugh!

"Gulabo Sitabo" was released on Amazon Prime Video on June 12, 2020.

इंतज़ार है...

चित्र:लता 

अब भी रोज़ सुबह क्षितिज पर वह हाज़री लगाता होगा
कभी सिंदूरी, कभी नारंगी, तो कभी सुनहरा पीला
तुम उसके स्वागत में कभी उछलते होगे, कभी मचलते होगे
तो कभी रूठे हुए बच्चे की तरह गुमसुम रहते होगे
अब भी तुम्हारी लहरें दौड़-दौड़कर किनारे को चूमती होंगी
मटमैली रेत तुम्हारे दूधिया झाग से लगातार सराबोर होती होगी
आसमान में उन्मुक्त पंछी अठखेलियाँ करते, गाते होंगे
नटखट बादल रूप बदल-बदल कर फ़लक पर छाते होंगे


कभी तुम्हारी लहरों पर नौकाओं में मछुआरे हिलोरें लिया करते थे
और तट पर सैर करनेवाले तेज़-तेज़ चला करते थे 
कोई मित्रों के साथ होता, तो कोई बिलकुल अकेला
कोई मुँड़ेर पर सुस्ताता, तो कोई बिना रुके ही चला
कोई अपने कैमरे में तस्वीर क़ैद करता
कभी सामने तुम होते, तो कभी उसकी प्रेमिका
तुमसे उठती ठंडी बयार से तरोताज़ा होकर हम
दिन की शुरुआत किया करते थे एकदम खुश-फ़हम


लेकिन अब तो उसके आने की ख़बर तब होती है
जब खिड़की पर गुनगुनी धूप दस्तक देती है
सूना पड़ा होगा तुम्हारा तट
और सूनी हैं गलियाँ
घर से बाहर निकलने पर
जो लग गई हैं पाबंदियाँ
इंतज़ार है फ़िर से तुम्हें देखने का
और तुम्हारे नित-नए रूप के साथ हर दिन का आग़ाज़ करने का

Alluring Andaman: Lights And Sounds Tell The Story!

The Light and Sound Show at the Cellular Jail is a must-watch for every visitor. Hordes of people descend at the jail to witness the show every evening. Four or five shows take place daily to accommodate the large number of tourists. The ticket costs Rs. 150 per person.

We arrive for our show early and find that many people have done the same. The park outside the jail is an ideal place to spend time in when you are waiting for your show.

The stage is set for the Light and Sound Show!

Soon, the previous show is over. We enter the jail compound and take our seats. It is a full house. The show begins with a recital of Jana Gana Mana. It is very thrilling to listen to the strains of the familiar tune, standing here in these hallowed premises. For the next one hour, as accounts of inhuman treatment of inmates emerge during the narration, people sit spellbound with a lump in their throat and tears in their eyes.

The inmates were subjected to physical and mental torture in order to break their resolve of fighting for India's freedom. They were routinely employed in kolhu machines in place of bullocks, to extract oil from coconuts. If they failed to extract their quota, they were subjected to severe punishments like flogging, starving, or being asked to perform more difficult tasks. They were already weighed down by solitary confinement, separation from their homes and families, exile in a remote island, uncertain future, humid weather, insects, bug-infested food, and harsh conditions. What kept them going was their dream to see India achieve independence.

The show tells their story with words, music and lights. One cannot help being sad, as well as proud of the sacrifices these extraordinary  people made to set our country free from the British rule. The show gets over, and we leave the jail compound with deep gratitude for all the inmates who lived and died in this jail.

View at arrival in Havelock

The rest of our trip was filled with touristy activities, like watching the sunset at the lovely Wandoor Beach, taking the hour-long cruise to Havelock, visiting the beautiful Radhanagar Beach with its pristine white sands and bright blue waters, 20-minute speedboat ride to the Elephant Beach, and looking at exquisite corals from a glass-bottom boat.

Photos by Lata

All the outings were very enjoyable indeed, but the high point of the trip for me will always be the visit to the Cellular Jail, and the Light and Sound Show!

Read the first post in this series here and the second post here.

Alluring Andaman: Inside The Cellular Jail

At the entrance, there are two chambers on either side of the gate where pictures and other memorabilia are on display. Further ahead, two flames burn continuously in memory of the inmates. An ancient peepal tree which has been standing there since the jail's heyday, greets visitors with a gentle rustle of its leaves and comforting shade.

We make way to the central tower. The seven arms are long and imposing. Inside the tower, lists of prisoners' names adorn the walls. We walk along to check out the cells. They are under renovation. The plaster on their walls has been scraped off revealing the bricks inside. All the cells are identical, with just a tiny window for ventilation.

Veer Savarkar, who spent 10 years in this prison from 1911 to 1921, occupied a cell on the top floor at the end of the corridor. We walk up to his cell. The whitewashed walls are bare, except for some pictures of the cell's celebrated inmate. Savarkar composed his epic poem "Kamala" by scribbling it on the walls of his cell.

We walk up the tower to the terrace and are treated to a beautiful view of the sea. The lovely Ross island sits just across like a green jewel in the shimmering blue waters. What a contrast from the suffocating cells to this heavenly spectacle under the open sky!

Befitting its status as a national memorial,  the premises of the prison are very clean and well-maintained. The historical importance attached to this place and the chilling stories of the harsh conditions in which prisoners were kept here, make it an awe-inspiring monument.

Photos by Lata

Downstairs, in one of the common areas between two arms of the prison, some models are on display depicting the harsh punishments meted out to prisoners. Just a short distance away are the gallows where three people could be hanged at once. As we approach, a young man is busy taking pictures of his blushing wife against the backdrop of the three nooses.

Right next to the gallows is the prison kitchen. Isn't it quite paradoxical that the place where the prisoners were terminated is beside the place that kept them alive?

Read the previous post in this series here.

To be continued.

Alluring Andaman: Hello Port Blair!

As we begin our descent into Port Blair, the emerald-green mass starts looking more animated with streets, buildings, and vehicles. For some reason, blue seems to be the popular colour for rooftops, punctuating the dense vegetation with blue rectangles of different sizes. Soon, the aircraft aligns itself over the landing strip in preparation for landing. The touchdown is gentle, followed by gliding on the runway before coming to a complete stop. It is a sunny morning outside with temperature at 28 degrees.

Veer Savarkar's bust at the airport

The long-awaited trip to the Andamans has finally materialised. I am excited to be here in Port Blair! We get out of the aircraft and take the bus to the terminal. The Veer Savarkar International Airport operates out of only one terminal. A new terminal is under construction and will be ready later this year. International operations are also slated to start later. 

Most of those who have arrived are tourists, eager to explore the islands that have become a popular tourist destination. There is one celebrity amongst passengers in our flight: actor Rahul Bose. Later we came to know that he was in Port Blair to take part in the Andaman Marathon of which he is the brand ambassador. 

The Union Territory of Andaman and Nicobar comprises 572 islands scattered at the juncture of the Bay of Bengal and the Andaman Sea, of which only about 38 are permanently inhabited. Port Blair is the biggest city and the capital.

We collect our bags and come out of the terminal to meet our escort. He receives us warmly and takes us to our hotel which is just a short ride away. The check-in is smooth and the rooms are clean and comfortable. The escort asks us to rest for a while and be ready at 13:30 to go to the Cellular Jail. That's when it opens after a break. All that I have heard and read about the historic jail comes to my mind, and I am eager to see it.

Known as Kaala Paani during the British rule, the Cellular Jail is an important national memorial monument. It was constructed by the British to keep political prisoners and revolutionaries who were active during India's struggle for independence, in exile. Construction started in 1896 and went on for 10 years. The prison was ready in 1906 for independence activists to be kept in isolation. It was designed especially for this purpose, consisting of a central watch tower from which emerge seven radial arms in such a way that the back of one arm faces the front of the next, ensuring solitary confinement for each of the inmates.  Each arm has three-storeys, containing cells running along the length of the arm. Each cell opens out into a common corridor. There are 696 cells. 

Photos by Lata

Some of the most well-known inmates of the prison are  Batukeshwar Dutt, Vinayak Damodar Savarkar, his elder brother Babarao Savarkar, Yogendra Shukla, Bhai Parmanand, Sachindra Nath Sanyal, Sohan Singh, and Subodh Roy amongst many others.

We are on our way to the prison. The road is wide, nice and clean. The vegetation and weather makes the place feel somewhat like Goa and Kerala, but still it is different. Hindi and Bangla are the most commonly spoken languages. Soon, the front facade of the jail comes into view. Part of it is covered because of the ongoing renovation.

Our escort gets the entrance tickets (Rs. 30 each), and we are ready to set foot inside the once-dreaded prison where many lived and died for India's freedom.

To be continued.

Panga: The Comeback!

It is hard to put the recently released film "Panga" in the frame of a particular genre. Is it a slice of life film, or a sports drama, or a family entertainer, or something else? Perhaps a bit of all of these. The story is about a person following his/her passion. That the person happens to be a woman, and the passion happens to be kabaddi is incidental.

Well, our leading lady Jaya Nigam is a happily married woman with a loving husband and a smart 7-year-old son. She has a cosy home, and her life is centred around her husband, her son, and her job as a ticket seller at the railway booking window. She had been a promising kabaddi player with trophies and national/international recognition to her credit, but she quit her game after marriage and motherhood. Sounds familiar? So many of married women can identify with her, having left some such thing behind after matrimony.

Unlike many who left their passion behind for good, Jaya decides to get back into the game. Finding her physical form, and overcoming her guilt for neglecting her household duties as a wife and a mother are her biggest obstacles. Everything else is picture perfect: a very supportive and understanding husband, an encouraging son (too mature to be 7?), a good coach who happens to be a dear friend, co-operating colleagues, helpful neighbours and what not. She could have had parents or in-laws who were ill and needed her help, she could have faced discrimination at work for being a woman, or she could have had a husband who was not so caring. But no, none of that. She is free as a bird to leave her nest and find ways to realise her dreams.

Even then, there are difficulties, ups and downs and emotional conflicts. Kangana Ranaut has played her part with sensitivity and energy. She switches between a vulnerable mother and wife, and an ambitious sportswoman with ease. The story is set in Bhopal and it is refreshing to see unexplored locales. Jassi Gill as the husband, Richa Chadda as Jaya's friend and coach, Yagya Bhasin as the son have all done very well. Richa Chadda is particularly impressive as the spunky single woman who has stayed away from marriage for her sport. Neena Gupta as Jaya's mother has nothing much to do. She manages to stay on the outlines with a character that has not been crafted well, having no chemistry with Kangana Ranaut as a mother would have with her daughter. To have someone of her calibre for this role is a complete waste.

Director Ashwiny Iyer Tiwari has tried and succeeded to a large extent in capturing the life of a young couple in present times, complete with their struggles and their challenges. Her offering has most of the ingredients to make it a wholesome dish, but perhaps somewhere along the way, a bit of tang could have helped? That would have elevated the film to a whole new level, although it is clean, honest and good now.

Watching Tanhaji: The Unsung Warrior

We have heard the story of Tanhaji (I would have spelt it as Tanaaji, but the recent film showcasing the valour of this 17th-century hero calls him Tanhaji, so I will go with that version since this is all about the film) from our mothers and grandmothers in our childhood. The story formed a part of the saga of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, the super hero who had the vision to dream of Swarajya, and who fought relentlessly throughout his life to realise it.

In Tanhaji: The Unsung Warrior (TTUW), the focus is obviously on this brave military leader, while the Chhatrapati makes a dignified appearance on the sidelines. The film opens with all kinds of disclaimers that are the norm today. The story has been dramatised, and creative liberties taken to enhance its appeal. Here's how the story goes. Tanhaji offers his services in leading the operation to reclaim Kondhana fort, which the Chhatarpati had lost to the Mughals in a peace treaty. His son's wedding can wait, aadhi lagna kondhanyache (let's get Kondhana married first); declares Tanhaji, and embarks on his mission. Scaling the heights of Kondhana is no mean feat. Especially when the fight is against the mighty and menacing Udaybhan Singh Rathore, who is defending the fort on behalf of Emperor Aurangzeb. The Mughal ruler had plans to make the strategic fort the centre of his operations in the South. After a fierce battle, Tanhaji wins the fort for his master but loses his life, eliciting the famous line from the Chhatrapati, gad aala pan sinha gela (we got the fort, but lost the lion). Eventually, Kondhana came to be known as Sinhagad.

Ajay Devgn plays the protagonist convincingly. Action is his forte and he delivers superbly. He is brawn, and brain too. His devotion to the Chhatrapati, and love for his family show his sensitive side. Kajol has a small, supporting role as Savitri, Tanhaji's wife.

Saif Ali Khan portrays the colourful and eccentric Udaybhan to the hilt. He gorges on crocodile meat roasted on a skewer, has no qualms about pushing a guard off the parapet of the fort into the depths of wilderness as a punishment for minor non-conformance, and dances like a madman anticipating a union with his childhood sweetheart Kamal.

Both of them are veteran actors, and that they did well is no surprise. The real surprise package comes in the form of Sharad Kelkar who essays the role of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj. It is not easy to bring to life a legendary personality like him, but the actor has done it in a nuanced way, lending a lot of grace and character to his portrayal. It was so easy to get carried away and overdo his part, but full credit to him and to director Om Raut for not crossing the line.

I watched the film in a hall, in 3D format. While the closeup shots looked good, the long shots looked terrible, reducing the humans and animals to miniature characters. It was pathetic to see a majestic army appear as a toy army with baby elephants and pocket-sized soldiers. While the film switched the long shots and closeups effortlessly, it was a strain to get used to the changing proportions. Also, the lighting did not seem to be appropriate, making the visuals look dull in many shots. I wonder how these lapses occurred in the age of technical excellence. Although the use of computer generated graphics in this genre of films is a given these days, I felt it has taken something away from the production, lending it a bit of artificiality.

However, when the subject matter is strong, making a film which lives up to its demands is challenging for a filmmaker; and the film has done well on this count. It is inspiring, engaging and entertaining all at the same time!