Sunday, February 22, 2009

Dev D- Part 2:)

Recently I wrote a post about this movie, before watching it... now I'm here after...

Over all a nicely made movie with heart at the right place.. does it reflect u r heart Mr. Director!! picked up the right issues in right tones- alcohol, drugs, conduct disorder (wink;) drunk driving... but, but... the most important one is relationships, emotional abuse, female sexuality and society's attitude towards it!
Movie also had few glorious moments of human bond in man-woman relationships. But very few, very real??
It raised many questions and thoughts in my mind.. I was wondering if Hindi movies will ever be as ready to redeem their wayward heroines (not the cute pocket-maar kind), if there are any... as they are generous to their heroes? Was all the good luck distributed to their heroes matter how rude and hurting and rejecting their behavior in past... the lady love will still come and wash their clothes and clean their dirty room and go back home crying!
At least, the director raised himself in my eyes by raising the standard of the hero, by bestowing upon him the ability to introspect and confess that he never loved any one beyond himself.. and ya he is a 'slut' (the abuse he easily threw upon the lady earlier!!).
Reminds me of the storm in beer mugs of Mangalore, the claiming and reclaiming cake pieces of Indian culture by different groups, pink chaddis and pink saris and many more things.

But the red hot ideological choice on this issue was offered to me by a friend who happens to be an American. Compared to French, Americans are prudish but compared to Americans, Indians are! He waived his mobile in front of my eyes and said not only Indian women but also Indian men are sexually repressed. 'My Indian male friends carry pornography in their mobiles, I don't!'
Who would YOU prefer, someone who can talk about sex and still have it in the periphery of their mind and life or someone who carry porn in their mobile!!

Thursday, February 19, 2009


While reading some interesting stuff.. i came across the ambivalence of the heart. Its there every where.. the ambivalent Arjuna in the battle field... or Jane Austin's Emma talking of ambivalence in the game of courtship... While the mind makes a decision and takes steps to go ahead..the fears hold back. The heights of ambivalence is of agnostics... they haven't yet made up their mind.. if God exists ..Or She/He/It doesn't!!
Hmm.. this brings me to some poetry... one very popular old time hindi song... I'm trying my translation skills... u have to guess the original:))

You may
Or may not
I'm sure
I love
You, not.

But this mystery
i haven't fathomed
Why I find
your talk sweet
Why I search for
reasons To meet.
Sometimes I wished
To touch you and see,
sometimes i wished
to bring you closer.

But, still..
You may
Or may not
I'm sure
I love
You, not.

When you stay
Away from me
Shadows of sadness
Lie on my heart
Some dream peep through
High rise buildings,
Some dream with bowed head
Stay seated
Sometimes darkness spread
On the paths of heart
sometimes it lightens up
Far and wide..

But, still..
You may
Or may not
I'm sure
I love
You, not.

(Have you got it??:)

Friday, February 6, 2009

Dev D

Today apparently the new movie Dev D is released!.. hmmm...Based on the classic theme of 'Devdas', the novel.
Well i have read the original novel and watched one of the old movie version (Dilip Kumar era), while missed the seemingly too melodramatic jewel studded SRK one.

Devdas has become almost an icon of pining male lover, who destroys his whole life for the lady love. But I have always felt its a story of a spineless lover, who wants everything easy and is completely confused, till it is too late. Still they go on to become icons of youth in love!! Ah something seriously wrong with our youth. Look around and you may not miss a few of those kind around.. Even u may find this population amongst those who are way past their 'youth' cronologically:)

Infact I have often wondered the similarity of this theme, in almost 100yrs old 'Devdas' novel by Sharat Da and an almost 50 yrs old similarly famous hindi novel 'Gunahon ka Devta' by Dharmavir Bharti. Well, how much of the personal life or attitudes of both the authors have seeped into their respective novels is to be guessed or assessed from the biographical or autobiographical narratives of which I do know some bits and pieces from reading and hearsay.

Ah, its a welcome change in the world of Hindi audio-visual entertainment, to show the courage to break free from the boundaries, from cliches and from usual interpretations..... Bravo Anurag Kashyap, from what I read, u got to have lot of mind!

And for those who believe in Devdas/ Chander as an icon of love/ a role model...take a break and do some soul-searching! .. Good luck guys.. Ah even Gals!!

Thanks to the Unknown Poet!

be near me when the light is low
when the blood creeps ,and the nerves prick
and the tingle,the heart is sick
and all the wheels r slow
be near to me
when my faith is dry
and men the flies
of latter spring
that lay their eggs,and sting and sir
and weave their petty cells and die
be near to me
when i fade away
to point the term of human strife
and the low dark verge of life
the twilight of eternal day

In Defense of Human Growth!

Unlimited possibilities of my existence

But crossing first limit, and every limit later

Brings the pain of body, mind and that of

My smallness.

I want to stretch my neck

Take a glance

Look again at the world

From one more perspective

Than what I was taught to believe.

Look what my eyes can't see

but my mind can.

And never to choose to throw an idea

Out of the window

And sleep calmly,

Believing what we don't see

Doesn't exist!

Finding her Here

This is a lovely poem dedicated to all growing up women... (mailed to me by a friend...The unknown author would be a women, as Virginia woolf once said:)

I am becoming the woman I wanted
Grey at the temples,
Soft body, delighted,
Cracked up by life
With a laugh that’s known bitter
But, past it, got better,
Knows she’s a survivor—
That whatever comes,
She can outlast it.
I am becoming a deep
Weathered basket.

I am becoming the woman I’ve longed for,
The motherly lover
With arms strong and tender,
The growing up daughter
Who blushes surprises.
I am becoming full moons and sunrises

I find her becoming
This woman I’ve wanted,
Who knows she’ll encompass,
Who knows she’s sufficient,
Knows where she’s going.
Who remembers she’s precious,
But knows she’s not scarce—
Who knows she’s plenty
Plenty to share

A poem from Mahadevi Verma

My disillusionment at this moment is of the kind which happens when reality meets the dreams. But then when river of dreams meets ocean of life I expect some beautiful land forms to emerge, fertile and life giving!
Today, I have been reading randomly some old quotes from my diary which i opened in search of passages from my one of favourite books, Revolution from within! (Gloria Steinheim). But found few other things which I feel like typing here. Sometimes writing each word which has moved you or typing it all out is quite therapeutic:)
This one is from Mahadevi Verma

कह दे माँ अब क्या देखूँ

देखूं खिलती कलियाँ या प्यासे सूखे अधरों को
तेरी चिर योवन सुषमा या जर्जर जीवन को देखूं?

देखूं हिम हीरक हँसते हिलते नीले कमलों पर
या मुरझाई पलकों से झरते आँसू कण देखूं?

सौरभ पी पीकर बता देखूं यह मंद समीरण
दुःख की घूटे पीती या ठंडी सांसों को देखूं?

तुझमे अमलानं हँसी है इसमें अज्रस आँसू जल
तेरा वैभव देखूं या जीवन का क्रंदन देखूं?

I Witness!!

It is a warm feeling, to have a few old friends who have stayed back with you and who knows things about you, over the passing years in this fast paced world. I'm lucky in this respect. Few days back, an old good friend reminded me of an old poem of mine, through one of his comments on my earlier blog.

I still remember that day of my growing up years, when a sudden look into the mirror made me yearn for a witness to my life. And this poem (another of my first) was born to express this feeling. Having such accepting, non-judgemental witnesses to life, nurtures us... And I think this brings me into my profession... to offer it to others. But we may not be able to remain so at all moments of life!!

तुम आओ,
ये मेरा नेह निमंत्रण है
तुम आना
और मेरे जीवन नाट्य में
उस द्रष्टा की तरह रहना
जो मेरे किरदार की अहमियत समझता हो

मुझे अपनी तालियों की
अनुगूंजों से
तुम विस्तार देना

अपनी संवेदना को मुझे प्रेषित करना
कभी अपने मौन से
तो कभी अपनी आंखों में छुपे उन भावों से
जिनका मुझे इंतज़ार है

परदों के उठने गिरने के बीच
चाहे मेरी भूमिका को अस्वीकार करो
पर खुले मन मस्तिष्क से
तुम मुझे स्वीकार करना

अगर तुम्हें पता है
पीडा क्या होती है
तो मध्यांतर में चले न जाना
अन्यथा संभव है
मेरी अंत तक खोजती निगाहों में
इंतज़ार कोई पढ़ ले

तब भी रहना
जब सब जा चुके हों
तुम्हारे शब्द मुझे देंगे
एक नयी जीवन्तता

और तब,
उन खाली, उतरते गलियारे में
मैं तुमसे कह सकूंगी
तुम मेरी भूमिका हो
और शायद तुम्ही

Two lovely poems dedicated to Memories

1) A movingly beautiful piece by Gulzar (Rain) :

Beyond the closed panes,
past the windows,
it keeps raining, on the green trees
on the thick branches,
on the frail flowers,
endlessly, silently
like your memory
which keeps raining,
beyond voices, faces and
activity around,
at the back of my mind
endlessly, silently.

2) A wisdom filled piece by Karnad in 'Hayavadana'

you cannot engrave on water
nor wound it with a knife
which is why
the river has no fear
of memories...
...sings, tosses, leaps and sweeps on in a rush...
While the scarecrow on
the bank has a face
fading on its mud pot head
and a body
torn with


I wanted to touch your words
With my fingers..
Feel it with closed eyes..
Kiss it, and then keep it on my palms
To let it fly...
But before that
I want to hold them and hug them
Feel the warmth of your words...
It will make me alive...
every moment of today!

Silence between Us

Some days silences between us
seems so soft and warm...
a comfort of known
as an old blanket in winters
which enwraps me with out suffocating.
It doesn't have the sharp edges
of a broken mirror.
It fills the space around,
without intruding into my existence
into my body.
Fulfills the needs of skin
like an intimate caress,
like a smell one like very much.
sometimes the silence between us...

After A While

After A While- by Veronica A. Shoffstall
(one of my favourite poems)

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn...


Few years back a friend gave me the book 'Hundred Years of Solitude' to read and some how the after effect was a deep despair. I do not remember what led to it but do remember, that evening when I completed the book I wrote 5 poems which all had that sense of despair. I'm writing here the one which seemed to have it less.

I am,
since time was not,
And universe unconceived.
This solitude-
An infinite spread of me.
Born out of me.
Leaves and grasses-
more of me.
Time created,
The circle moves
Into another circle,
Into endlessness.

In every creation
I'm all alone
The fog deeper,


I learned from you,
the difference between
jungle fire or hail storm
winter sun
lukewarm water
shadows in summer
body's own warmth
or simmering heat in
one's kitchen

difference of death
and life
of you and me
of being and becoming
difference between
your footprints
which goes away
and my body
which stands there
holding my soul.


The overwhelming
joy of separation
to test my resilience
and your faith,
The little happenings
all mine.
the surprises of
home coming
and a life of fire walk
all mine.

Damp Memory!

Sitting in a damp room
amidst everydayness
I suddenly taste
the salty breeze
and touch of your lips
on my face.
I find an expanse
in my mindscape
I miss someone
by an arm's length
and know
you have thought of me
today, just now.