It’s 2.30 in the morning, and I really don’t know whether I should write this, but I just couldn’t help myself from putting down my thoughts on paper… and this is about a movie that is yet to be officially released in India… Yes, it’s about Slumdog Millionaire.
Now , this isn’t a review. This is just an extension of the overwhelming emotions that this film has evoked inside me. I have just finished watching this movie, and this undoubtedly, and I am ready to put my head on the block, is the best film that I’ve ever seen. This is the best movie ever made in/about India.
I have never ever seen any film in which the essence of the nation has been captured in a better manner, and yes, I have never ever seen such innovative cinema. Although, I know that this film is based on a book, it just reinstated my belief that Cinema is the highest form of art. Everything about this movie is better than what has ever been, and probably will ever be.
This is superlative cinema.
The narrative is fabulous. The film flows in the stream of consciousness form, and is journey of a gali ka kutta from the slums of Bombay, into the glitz and glamour of modern Mumbai. The screenplay is taut, and seems to speak the language of music…the rhythm starts slowly only to develop into a crescendo at the climax. This is text book cinema, and yet, it breaks new grounds in film-making. The film has captured the ever changing topography of the country, and has been able to paint the most realistic portrait of history, although this is a work of fiction. Long time ago, I had read a maxim which said,’ Nothing is true in history except names and dates, and everything is true in literature except names and dates’, and this film stands in testimony to that.
Slumdog Millionaire is a treatise/tribute on/to India, it’s diversity, it’s idiosyncracies and it’s hysteria. This is what cinema should be, and this is what cinema will be. I shall write no more…I can write no more. You have to watch this film to understand what going on inside me. Just a word of caution…it is a film alright, but don’t treat it like one.
कल काफी सालों बाद मैंने
तुम्हारी दी हुई वो कमीज़ निकाली
कॉलर पर तुम्हारा एक बाल
और बाहों में तुम्हारी खुशबूं मिली
जेब से हमारा एक फोटो भी मिला
कुछ धुंधली सी हो गयी है
रंग भी थोडे बदल गए है
काला धुला सा नजर आया
और सफेद भी मठमैला हो गया है ....
....फिर से पहनने की कोशिश तो मेने बहुत की
पर अब वो फिट नहीं आता
मुझे याद है कि कैसे तुमने मेरी क़ॉपी के पहले पन्ने पर
मेरे टेढे से मुंह की पिक्चर बनाई थी
और लाल स्याही से उस पर एक बड़ी सी हंसी आंकी थी
मुझे याद है कि कैसे तुम बीच वाले पन्ने से
कागज के प्लेन बनाया करती थी
पर फैन की तेज हवाएं अकसर उनका रुख मोड देती
और ये देखकर तुम्हारे चेहरे पर
अचानक एक अलग सी मुस्कान आ जाती
मुझे ये भी याद है कि कैसे हम पीछे वाली बेंच पर बैठकर
टीचर की नजर बचाकर
मेरे कॉपी के आखरी पन्ने पर
वह शब्दों वाला गेम खेला करते थे
और कैसे तुम हर बार मेरे शब्द गेस कर लेती थी
और मैं हर बार यही सोचता रहता
कि इन खाली जगहों पर कौन सा अक्षर लिखूं
कल बड़े अरसो बाद, क़ॉपी खोली तो पाया
कि जो फूल तु्म्हें देने के लिए लाया था
वह अब भी उन पन्नों में समटी हुई है
हां, थोड़ा सा मुरझा जरूर गया हैं...
जब पन्ने पलटें तो देखा
कि हंसी तो अब भी बरकरार है
पर वक्त के साथ उस लाल स्चाही का रंग
फीका पड़ गया है।
I started writing this post sometime last month, but being true to the spirit of the pseudo crusader, I have left it unfinished. Probably its my inability, or perhaps, its my disability...
The eighth month is slowly drawing to a close, and as the year enters it's twilight zone, it seems India's flirtation with Madame Fortune is all but over. Things, however, were quite different, at the same time last year, when the liaison was at it's prime. The economy was chugging ahead at a healthy 9 percent plus. The Sensex was zooming ahead at Mach 3. Inflation was yet to raise its dreaded hood. And there was a relative calm in the political arena.
But now, tables have turned.
Let's start with the least sensitive of all the issues - The Sensex. The gluttonous few of Dalal Street, are in a pensive mood these days. Their betting game is no longer yielding high returns, and this is definitely a cause of concern for the Country. The markets have come down significantly from the highs. FII inflows have dried up. And the SEBI is ready to compromise monetary flow issues to revive the dubious P Notes, for the sake of 'domestic' investors. But then who are we to blame for this? And then, why should we blame, or even be bothered by it? Those involved in organised and legal betting are not new to the hazards of the game. They themselves were responsible for the rise, and now, for the fall. The markets are almost the private domain of the 'selected' few, and I don't see any cause of concern. If a person decides to build a blast furnace in his backyard to heat his broth, it his private matter, and I really respect privacy.
The slowing down of the economy is definitely worrisome. This implies that the wheels of 'development' can come to a standstill. But then the question arise were they rolling at all??? If the driver of the carriage decided to oil one wheel, and shuns the rest, the consequence is a foregone conclusion. As the rich keep continue to feast , latest poverty norms ($1.35/day) suggests that two-thirds of the country still cannot even afford a single meal a day. And this number is by no means trivial...We are talking about 70 crore people...that is the combined population of UK, France and the Scandinavian countries. So is there any development at all???
However, those whose minds are still clouded by misplaced notion of growth might argue that even if sheer numbers are daunting, poverty has been declining faster now than it ever did before. This is yet another figment of imagination of the ruling classes propogated as reality/truth. These people are great believers in numbers, and yes, its the numbers game after all. Poverty in the pre-liberal era (1975-1990) was declining at 59.3% annually. However, this figure dropped to 43.2% in the period 1991-2005.
And yes, the burning hot topic of the moment is the Nano. The real people's car, is facing a stiff opposition from the people. Sounds strange, nah?? Yes, Singur, can very well be a political gimmick, and Mamta Bannerjee, a ridiculous joker, but then can you deny the fact that it is being built on fertile agricultural land.What will the children of this area do when they grow up? They no longer would have any land to till, and the paltry sum given as compensation would have been dwindled away by alcoholic fathers. None of them would find any sort of employment in the gas guzzling factories, not because the Tatas would bear grudges against them, but because these people would be simply unemployable.
