This post is the result of an argument with a colleague.
A Gmail Chat
K: After Dubai, Which is the next blowup???
Me: NSE, BSE. They are on the terror list ;). Who cares? Only a handful of 'Investors'
K: No Everyone has to take care. They are the true indicators of the economy.
The conversation carried on, and both of us presented numerous arguments in support of our own viewpoints. And, as is the fate of all arguments, even this one could not get to a conclusion. However, this never ending discussion did get me ticking.
So, are the Stock Markets real indicators of the economy?
Most analysts, corporates, and my friends from the business media fraternity, will say yes. And then,they will also go on to great lengths, and to great heights, to convince you. Market enthusiasts, often, justify, this statement, by quoting incidents from recent history, and how markets and more or less always preempt...
Join the Dots type of Scenario.
Impressive.
On the first glance, it looks and sounds credulous too. Yes, it does preempt. It did anticipate the Slowdown, and yes it is all set for the revival also. The enthusiasts, in the same breath, will add ten more incidents to the list, and will present before you a very convincing argument.
And now allow me to present my argument. But first, let me share, a little bit of background information, just to make you more comfortable with the questions that would follow. The Dubai Crisis/Crises, effected markets globally on 25/11. For a day and half, markets around the globe, mourned the demise of Dubai, and shed tears in form of points. However, half way through day two, they decided, enough is enough, and started soaring. The analysts, being true to their profession, backed the markets, by saying, that the scale of Dubai's economy is small, and impact of the crisis limited.
And now, a basic question.
If the scale of the crises was small, and the impact limited, then why did the markets crash to begin with?
And why was there a recovery in the markets? Only because the GDP numbers came out, although, it was widely known and accepted that, the stimulus fed industry, would show good numbers (The IIP numbers gave a fair idea about how the industry was behaving under heavy dosage of stimulants)
Thus, can we come to the conclusion that the crash happened, because the Bear Cartel of Brokers needed a fall to cover their shorts, and the crisis in Dubai just gave them an opportunity to pull the markets down. And once the shorts were covered, the market was pushed up again, on GDP numbers.
And this has been the case always. So when, analysts say, join the dots and you'll get the real story, they are, actually stating the truth. Join the DOTS and if you are intelligent enough, you'll see the picture in the picture.
This is inherent to the dynamics of the market.
And what it underscores, is the fact that shares, are always bought to be sold, a far cry, from the concept of becoming shareholders in companies, to 'share' the profit. The mechanism, has completely turned itself upside down> You buy to sell. And stock prices have nothing to do with the state of the company or the profits it is making. That prices are manufactured is a fact universally known, but not acknowledged.
And unlike what 'experts' try and make you believe, Stock Markets are not run by logic and statistics. If that would have been the case, then the most successful players would not have been school drop-outs, who cannot even put two and two together. They are talented, no doubt, but not at what you think, but at what most brokers call, 'timing'. That enigmatic word which is often used to justify the irrationality of the means and the mechanism.
Markets have gained such an important stature across the world because it is the easiest, and the fastest (legal) way to make money. And that is why, the numbers keep on getting bigger and bigger and bigger.And that is also why, the dirt and the murk, keep on getting darker and darker and darker. And that is also why, the arguments in favour of stock markets, keep on getting stronger, and stronger and stronger.
Na Baap Bada Na Bhaiyya, Sabse Bada Rupaiyya.
I first saw him at my cousin’s place. I must have been around eight or ten, and there was this weird being with long hair, black hat and his walk was even more weird than his attire. Whether he was black or white… it was difficult to tell.
At that party there, it seemed everybody was in a fit…. Talking and singing some gibberish... It was Loud and in a nasal tone. Their moves were such that it looked like they had a seizure...hands going in one direction, the waist in another, and feet in a third… All of a sudden, it seemed, the boys had been kicked in their box... All of them grabbed their crotch, and let out a shrill cry… That really scared the sh*t out of me! I rushed out of room… with a cushion…. for protection… My God! That weird man must have been really dangerous.
‘Curiosity killed the Cat’, is a saying well known to most. But my reading was not particularly great at that age, and my shrivelled brain did not posess the capacity to understand it. The craziness and madness lured me… and with small sheepish steps I went inside. That weird man was still doing his weird moves… and my cousins were trying to copy. Each doing a more shoddy job than the other! One of them beckoned me to walk like him, and in the effort… I landed flat on my nose. In anticipation that he would say something kind… I looked at him, but he merely let out another shrill cry. And at that, with my nose purple (red and black maked purple), and tears rolling down, I realised that he was bad…. Really reallly BAD.
But my crying really did the trick. It was louder and shriller than his, and it caught my uncle’s attenttion… he rushed in… And smart slap landed on one of my cousin’s cheek. Suddenly everything went silent…. And still. The hands remained where they were, and so did the crotch. Everything…everybody…still… it seemed as if somebody had pressed the pause button… Yes, even that weird man stood absolutely still….in the box he was dancing… with one hand on his crotch and the other one in the air. The lights in the room came on, and the lights in his box went out… Everything was so sudden… it was like the climax of an action film. Thank God! The thrill(er) had ended.
Retrospection is a wonderful thing they say, and indeed it is. For if it had not been for retrospection, I would have never had realised the attachment that I had with this place.
Retrospection gives you the time and opportunity to relive those moments which went by in a flash when you were too busy flashing the latest news on Satyam.
Retrospection gives the opportunity to take stock of those things which u missed when you were too engrossed in the stock prices. Retrospection gives a chance to enjoy those friendships once again...
Yes, retrospection is a wonderful thing.
Idle time and an ideal brain is a potent combination, and perhaps that is why I realised that the moments that have gone by were, perhaps, one of the most enjoyable of my life... and yes, I am not exaggerating. For the sceptics I have enjoyed even those really really long sessions... Perhaps, if those things had not happened, my life would not have changed its course. And this is the beauty of retrospection. You can look back at the most positive aspect of even the worst moments of your life, and that is the key.
Thanks to retrospection, I still have those friendships and friends which were lost in the hullabaloo of the present. I still have those good - for - nothing discussions which happened over a round of tea, and several rounds of cigarettes... and yes, alongside Milds, 555 has found a permanent place in my lungs.
And as I pad up to face the music on a completely new pitch, the question that haunts me ... Should I miss something/somebody?
Perhaps Yes, Perhaps No.
Yes, because I missed several opportunities in my last innings... opportunities that would perhaps never come knocking again.
Yes, because I failed myself, and others to an extent... Perhaps, it was not anybody's fault, rather a consequence of circumstances. What I wanted, was not what they wanted, and What they wanted, was not what I wanted.
Yes, because there were several things/matters to which I could not put a full stop to. Or lets say, I could not complete them... (amongst several other thing(s), SBS).
Perhaps No... I dont think I'll miss anything/anybody, because all(everything/everybody) I wanted to miss, is always with me, either framed in my memory, or my phone's.
Adios!!!
I am on the cusp of a new beginning, or atleast, that is what I'd like to think. Change. Yes, change is what I crave for. Change is what I want. Change is what I need. Is change possible? Perhaps yes. Perhaps no. But do I stop myself from trying only because failure is the most obvious possibility?
I don't have an answer.
And what is the change I am craving for?
I don't know that either. The only thing that I know is, I am falling into the same trap that I have always advocated against. It is ironical, but it's true. If I want to be harsh on myself, I'd call it sheer opportunism, or if I have to rationalise and justify/defend myself, it can be called being pragmatic.
I am not too sure whether I'll be successful, or for that matter what is success? It is definitely not the same thing i thought of once, and I was never idealistic. I never craved for a utopian world, but then I never wanted to be a part of this extremely materialistic society as well. Perhaps, that was/is the reason for the choices I made/make. But now, everything seems like a distant dream.
Call it disillusionment, or call it failure.
I put on the garb of a Saint
Smear myself with holy paint,
Only to Fail
कटते हुए पतंग ने मांझें से पूछा
उलझा तो तू, पर मैं क्यों कटा
मेरी क्या गलती थी
मैंने क्या था किया
मेरा क्या होगा, क्या तूने कभी है सोचा
मांझे ने बोला
आसमां में उड़ने की
चाहत तेरी थी
बादलों में तू बसना चाहता था
रिश्ते तूने जोड़े थे
अगर मैंने तोड़ दिया
तो इसमें मेरी क्या भूल
न तो तूने मेरी फितरत को जाना
न ही पूछी मेरी मर्जी
आज मुझे अनजाना क्यों कह रहा है
जब तूने कभी था ही नहीं पहचाना
खुदको कहकर भोला
तू क्या जताना चाहता है
मुझ पर उठाकर उंगली
क्या बताना चाहता है
क्या हुआ है
क्या हुआ था
ये तुझे भी है पता...
मैं तो सिर्फ एक धागा हूं
ख्वाब तो तू बुन रहा था
गलती किसकी है...
अब तू बता
Sid
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
and only for one place
I rejoice things as they are and
I renounce the blessed and engraved face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice
And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us.
Not my lines, but my favorite poet's. Just thought I should put it up, and that's why they are here
Every morning
when the rude sun
creeps in through the blinds,
and intrudes into my dream...
I open my eyes, and think...
I am Blessed
Every evening
as I stagger in
The soft light of the street lamp
rushes in through the window
and lulls me to sleep.
As I close my eyes, I think...
I am Cursed
चेहरों पर चेहरे चिपकाएं घूमते है
जिस्म की बिसात पर
रिश्तों का खेल खेलते है
बेडरूम के बंद दरवाज़े को
जरा गौ़र से देखो
उतारे हुए कपड़ो के साथ
आत्मा भी लटकी है
चादरों के रेशमी तागों में
जिंदगी अटकी है
बिस्तर पर हर रात
एक नई चाल चलते है
चेहरों पर चेहरे चिपकाएं घूमते है
मुंह से निकलते धुएं को
ज़रा गौ़र से देखो
उस धुंधली सी धुंध में
कुछ सपने तर्श है
छल के इस महल में
न तो छत है,न ही फर्श है
रिश्तों के अलाव पर
सिगरेट जलते है
चेहरों पर चेहरे चिपकाएं घूमते है
After Dheeraj's post I don't think I have much to add. Instead, I'll try and put a personal perspective to the whole film.
There are two kinds of students in a college. Those who have heard about politics, and choose to ignore it. And then there are others, who get seduced, and choose to play a part. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I belong(ed) to the latter.
Nothing intoxicates like Power. And like every addiction, at times, it overpowers you... and that is what Gulal is about. Like the protagonist Dilip, I too came to 'study'... and my initiation to the Hostel was, too, in a similar fashion (Sadly, no Anuja/Jesse Randhawa!) And then there's 'brainwash' albeit in a more conventional manner...
Identities are imposed
Loyalties are decided.
Dreams are dreamt.
And there you are... ready to face the big bad world, with a new sense of being... a new found illusion of invincibility. Like Rananjay, you often think, that you can take on the world on your own, just to realise that politics is more about connections and collaborations. And you begin your life afresh. You become friends with people who have what you don't... you try and find a Duk(h)i Bana.
With great power comes great responsibility... the responsibility to organise a fest. The responsibility to fulfill the ambitions of your friends... your core group.
And with power, you suddenly become desirable too. Every Dilip finds a Kiran. And every Kiran wants a Dilip.
You also find a sense of security... a sense of being complete... a sense of being YOU. Like Dilip, you have a chip on your shoulder. You have to bring about a change. Change for a Change.
But politics is not about change, it is about status quo, and this is what you fail to realise. The protagonist doesn't fail himself, nor is he a victim of circumstances... it's just destiny... Yes, it is.
Sid
The next time you walk into your bedroom, look carefully at the television sitting quietly in one corner. Look carefully and you might realise that it, perhaps, is in the Standby .mode. It is an amazing mode....the Standby Mode. It is alive yet not living. It is dead, but still not dead. It lies there with innate knowledge that it is its destiny...to be a mere onlooker, or at best, a dormant participant. It can only console itself with the knowledge that sometime it will serve a purpose. Sometime, the intimate conversations would stop, and it would become a part of the bedroom, a part of the family. Till that time comes it has to wait. But it cannot just switch itself off. It has to prepare itself for that moment, when that button is pressed and he has to come alive and then try and entertain the occupants. It knows that this moment of glory causes a lot of pain, every pixel burns a hole in the skin, but this is its moment of glory, and to endure pain is its destiny. And then suddenly when the mood changes, with a flick of a button, it is forgotten, and it lies there in the corner licking its wounds, trying to reconcile itself, and preparing to play a part once again.
Dir:Priyadarshan (sorry couldn’t get hold of his phone number!)
Cast: Shahrukh Khan, SRK, brand Khan, Red Chillies Entertainment.
Music:Bullcrap
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It seems like that recession has even made a dent in the image of Bollywood’s biggest brand. Otherwise why would a superstar of the stature of Shahrukh Khan make a three hour long advertisement? Yes, I am talking about SRK’s latest venture Billu B****r. Priyadarshan’s (the film is produced by SRK’s Red Chillies Entertainment) ‘modern’ take on Krishna – Sudama tale is no better than a very long advertisement on Brand Khan. .
This film is absolute junk, and the only relief being the other Khan...Irrfan Khan, who gives yet another sizzling performance, as Billu/Sudama. Manikandan’s photography is brilliant in patches, and so is Lara Dutta’s back...Deepika’s abs...Priyanka’s eyes...and Kareena’s.....sorry, can’t think of anything good in Kareena!
My suggestion: Switch on the television, and watch ads...They are much more entertaining than the film.
Dir: Anurag Kashyap
Cast: Abhay Deol, Mahie Gill, Kalki Koechlin
Music: Amit Trivedi
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I sat for hours in front of the computer trying to think of the perfect opening line, but my mind just kept drawing a blank. It had never happened before. Every film leaves an imprint, evokes some emotion. But his one left none. And that is what makes this film special. Anurag Kashyap has freed the spirit of Devdas from its fossils. It has managed to break free of the shackles of sentimentality that had kept it bound for ages.
Kashyap’s Dev D is intensely political, played out like a Brechtian drama, and yet at some level managed to capture the changing emotional topography of a rapidly changing psychological landscape. Unlike a tragedy from the classical mould, the protagonist is not a victim of circumstances; rather, he is caught in the structures he has created for himself. Thus the film is devoid of any emotion of sympathy for any of the characters. Although, Chanda does have a rather sad past, her actions too, are of her own accord, and by her own admission she seems to be content with the dual life that she leads. In a sense, Chanda exemplifies the Kashyap’s philosophy. In this overtly existential film, the characters are responsible for their own actions, and there is no sense of regret or revenge. Even Dev’s descent has little to do with unfulfilled love. Rather it is a tale of a protagonist trying to forge/find an identity for himself.
Instead of being mere cardboard cutouts (as they were, in the previous versions) Kashyap’s Chanda and Paro, are made of flesh and blood. Paro’s sexually confident, and she is not shy in taking the first step. In a brilliantly composed sequence, Paro vents out her sexual energies on a handpump, after being denied by Dev. Similarly, Lenny is not afraid of flaunting her sexuality, (her fascination with riding a bike can be read in the same light as the handpump scene) and even after she’s been cheated on, Lenny has the courage to move on. She is a ‘randi’ and does not take refuge in euphemisms. This sheds light on the conceited psychology of the patriarchal society. As long as Lenny wanted to remain Lenny, her presence was uncomfortable and unacceptable, but the moment she became Chanda, her presence became not only acceptable but at some level desirable too.
Kashyap’s Dev D is not a mere rereading of an old text, it is a new rendition altogether... a story so powerful, that even Sarat Chandra would have been proud of it. But does it make a good watch? You bet.
Inspite of it being heavy on philosophy, nowhere in the film does it weigh you down. It is rather quirky, crazy and to certain extent even funny. The casting is brilliant, and so is the photography. Infact, the photography is so good that it manages to induce a heady feeling, and you come out of the theatre on a high. Just go and watch this film to realise (and acknowledge) that films can be political, sensitive and yet score highly on entertainment value.
Dir: Zoya Akhtar
Cast: Farhan Akhtar, Konkona Sen Sharma, Rishi Kapoor, juhi Chawla, Dimple Kapadia, Isha Sharvani.
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Bollywood is holding up a mirror for itself? I don’t know. And to be very honest, my feelings about this film are ambivalent. I can not call it a bad film, then, I can’t even call it a brilliant or even a good film. It is, at best, JAF (Just another Film). I don’t even know what to make of the latest fad of realism that all of a sudden has gripped Bollywood (I am using the term in its truest and most commercial)
At one level, the new wave of realism... outgrown realism, seems a good idea, It provides us with a much deserved break from the excesses of the last decade. But on the other level, it is perhaps, undesirable. I call it undesirable, because, somewhere I feel that it is a foreign concept, and we are adapting & adopting, to accommodate this in Bollywood. Perhaps, we are trying to transform Bollywood into Hindi Film industry, and LBC is a step towrds that.
Luck By Chance, at least for me, is essentially is a ‘realistic’ film on the ‘(melo) dramatic’ Bollywood. However, on the apparent, it is a coming of age tale of a ‘struggler’. Cross an Andy Warhol movie crossed with a Dil Chahta Hai, and the result would be similar to LBC. It is lengthy, dull boring, with flashes of brilliance (the last shot, with Konkona in an extremely long scene) but lacks an overall entertainment value. Farhan Akhtar is good, in his usual understated way. Konkona is brilliant as usual. Isha Sharvani should seriously take Vikram’s (Farhan Akhtar) advice and take some acting classes. If the young brigade was good, the old guards were brilliant. Rishi Kapoor, as Rolly the producer, is fantastic, and so is Dimple, as the fading superstar of the 70s. The music is nothing to write about. And the photography is, at best, ordinary.
So, should you go, and watch it?
Well... if you want to see the things you have already read about in the numerous film magazines, just go ahead, and watch it... it’s really not that bad!!!
Why do IITians poke their nose into everything? Do they think that they are the best that the country has to offer? Or is it that the rest of us are totally worthless? Now before you ask, why am I ranting and panting, this is about a book that I recently read... Its called Above Average, which if anything, is way below average. Probably, it’s not the author’s (Amitabha Bagchi) fault; he was just emulating what his fellow mate, Chetan Bhagat did. (He not only got away but also made tons of money with it.)
Probably, its not even Chetan’s fault that the book did well (commercially, I mean)... Probably, it’s our fault. Yes, our collective fault. The importance that we have accorded to technical education, especially engineering, is absolute madness. Just take a trip down, Hauz Khas in Delhi, and you’ll find scores of youngsters, with here- and-there moustaches with a bag carelessly slung across their shoulders, entering the numerous FIITJEEs that throng the area. Go to any school, and you’ll find half the class missing...Why? Well, they are all preparing for the entrance exams, and school studies are just not worth it!
Catch hold of one, and ask him. Why?
Just why does want to be an engineer? 6 out of ten would say, they don’t have an idea. Three would say their parents asked them do so, and one smarty-pants would push his spectacles up, look at you with an air of superiority, and would say, ‘I just love computers. So I wanna be one a Software Engineer.’ Ask him, why IIT? The answer, ‘Oh its the best...that is why.’ And what’s so good about it? They would ramble something about professors and the curriculum, and before you can ask a counter question, they would quietly slip away, making some excuse about getting late for a class or something like that.
The truth is, that none of them actually have a reason. All they know is that, IIT is the first step to a commercially successful career. IITs, IIMs, and then a plush job with Goldnam Sachs or a Lehman Bros. (Hmmm.... Wonder, if its still at the top of the list!!) Probably, their thought about the ladder is not completely wrong. But then, have we ever wondered why has success been reduced to mere numbers, and even it has been, then why all the zeroes get added only to a specific sector/profession? ( Zero...Ask Fuld!!) Why is a course that teaches you to crunch numbers being accorded a higher status than any other form of education? And is education worthwhile only if it translates into numbers? And why, only certain degrees are able to make that transition, while others are stuck at the doldrums?
These are some of the questions, that we need to think about...consciously, collectively. And if we don’t arrive at the answers soon, than probably we’ll have to live through the ignominy of reading/listening trash from people like Chetan & Amitabha, bragging...and adding to the myth.
Dir: Danny Boyle
Cast: Dev Patel, Madhur Mittal, Freida Pinto
Music: A R Rahman
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The Question
Slumdog Millionaire has won 10 Oscar Nominations. But why has it evoked such varied emotions
A. It is an emotional rags to riches story
B. It is the first film to depict the life of Mumbai's slums
C. It is written by an Indian
D. It is made by a white man.
The Film
'Slumdog' try typing the word on any text editor, and you'll have the spell check suggesting a typing error. Probably, it is the only space where the film is still unknown. Yes, Danny Boyle's Slumdog Millionaire set in the slums of Mumbai, is the most talked about film at the moment. But what is it that makes it so special?
Loosely based on a an Indian bureaucrat's novel (Vikas Swarup's Q&A) about a boy from the slums winning a quiz show, the film charts the life and journey of Jamal Malik, from the gloom of Dharavi to the glitz and glamour of television. At first glance, it is a simple rags to riches story set in a Dickensian world. But look closer, and you'll find that this ain't that simple.
Although Jamal's life serves as the foreground, the film is as much about Mumbai and its sociological history, as the story of it's protagonists. Infact, not a single film in recent history has been able to capture the changing topography of India's biggest metropolis in a better way than this film. Whether it's the city's obsession with film stars or the nation's frenzy about television. Whether the nightmare of the communal riots or the city's tryst with 'development'... Slumdog has it all. And yes, that's not it all. It also manages to capture the essence of Hindi cinema, with it's numerous coincidences, 'filmi' love story... and to top it all, also has a song & dance sequence. In a sense, it's a film about opposites. And Danny Boyle has managed to generate such electricity by clashing opposites that it has managed light up a gloomy year. ( The film was released in the US & UK towards the end of 2008 )
The film uses a stream of consciousness narrative, and the finesse with which the director has incorporated the context with the text is remarkable. Loveleen Tandon, the film's Co- Director, deserves more than just a pat on the back for the perfect casting. Whether it's Ayush Khedekar as the five year old Jamal or Madhur Mittal as the teenaged Salim, no one...absolutely no one else could have performed it better. The photography by Anthony Dod Mantle is ... Beautiful...as one of the cast members said, 'He even made look shit beautiful.' It is simple, and yet it manages to make the ordinary look extraordinary. Much has been said about Rahman's compositions, but to be honest, he has given better music in other films...
The Reactions
The film premiered in India this week, but even before it was released it evoked strong reactions which ranged from adulation and glory to rage and fury. If on one hand we were enthralled by it's 10 Oscar nominations on the other hand, we were enraged by its portrayal of India. Some even went as far as calling it Poverty porn, while other have claimed that this is, perhaps, the best film, ever been made in/about India.
The Answer
We are enthralled because we need certification from the West for every little thing we do. The dabba system has been a phenomenon in Mumbai since ages, but we needed a Prince Charles to certify its efficiency. We needed a Bill Gates to realise that Indian Cuisine is great. We needed a Don Bradman’s certification before we proclaimed Sachin was God. And yes, we need the Academy of Motion Pictures to say that we make brilliant films.
We are enraged not because this film has shown poverty. We are enraged not because this film has spilt the beans about India Shining. We are enraged not because this film has showcased our hypocrisy.
We are enraged because a White Man did all of this.
The End
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.
