What Defines a good cinema show?

 Which cinema did you visit last weekend? Which shows have you attended among the recent releases? How good was the movie?

These are among the myriad of questions we are asked everyday by the innumerable acquaintances we come across. One of these, namely, the latter grabbed my attention recently. What, indeed, is a good movie?

What defines a cinema experience? What are the most defining moments in a cinema? In a world of duality, where every patron has a corresponding detractor, where every yin has its yang, how does one call a work of art good or bad?

Many scholars skillfully present the relative views of the human mind as the cause for all judgement, movies included.

The Assassination Attempt

But i beg to differ, we are all humans, granted. But being so, all of us have our own soft spots - affection for a loved one, loyalty towards friends, condescending love towards a dear pet, so on and so forth. It is these soft spots that when touched (or not) give us the true taste (or lack of the same) of the cinema show. Like a skilled carpenter that instantly finds the soft spots of the log he carves, a skilled director instantly recognises the soft spots of his audiences and connects with them. Now, from the other side of the road, when it comes to judging films as an audience, it is the way in which the movie touches our soft spots that defines our experience. It is these that create a lasting impression in our mind. 

Prince Albert jumps before the Queen

Recently, I was watching 'The Young Victoria', which - self-declared movie connoisseur of considerable class that I am - is not the best of movies one would come across. But, I will remember that movie for a long time, if not forever. Well towards the end of the film, the monarch is shown touring her kingdom when a wayward detractor attempts to assassinate her. At that very instant, far away in Buckingham Palace, the hairs on the Queen-mother's arm stand up. Duchess Victoria of Kent, mother of the monarch, is suddenly tense.

The Duchess of Kent

Time stood stil for that infinitesimal fragment of a second. Somewhere deep down, from the innermost corners of the mind, I heard a silent 'Ah!'. I had seen a magnificent example of cinematography. All this within a second's time. In another such instance, in the movie 'Kung-Fu Panda 2' director Jennifer Yuh has fabulously visualised the moment when Po the Panda attains 'Inner Peace'. He does an elegant Kung-Fu movement while moving a droplet of water around his arms while a flood of troubling memories from his childhood rush past. In the end, he let's go these memories even as the droplet gently tips onto the leaf of a sapling near the Panda. In that single moment, time once again seems to stand still while we feel a deep sense of inner peace. It is then that we are truly satisfied.

Few are such experiences that I have seen in recent times. Let us recognise such moments and give due credit to the makers of such incredible experiences, because it is not the moments in our life, but the life in our moments that we grow to cherish.

The Lesson of Experience!

The advent of the Internet today has transformed our very lifestyles and culture. The way a person looks at himself is hardly connected (even remotely) to the way a self-respecting human being considered his image to be just more than a decade ago. The world is virtualised beyond all logic. College boys become alluring models/divas and the like online while some adults project themselves as young students. While internet was conceived as a servant to smoothen the routine roughness of life, it has silently pulled the caret from beneath our feet, toppling us beneath itself, all the while unbeknownst to us.

This semi-bombastic spurt of thought was a consequence of one of the absolutely-pointless-pastimes of our generation today - begging for likes on Facebook! I was wasting my theoretically precious time in the pursuit of casual views (hits) on an activity of my virtual self on this social network. As expected, the post received no notes of appreciation, no clicks, no comment chains that it purportedly deserved. I considered the meaning of this and thought about how I react to a similar work by my friends. Do I canvas 'likes' for them, do I involve myself in comment wars with (un)known persons? Do I signal ostentatiously that 'I have read your article. It is great! kudos! Blah Blah Blah...' ? On second (the more realistic) thought, I realised I do no such things. A Friend posts something, I read through it and I push it aside and move back to kill the rest of my time. Then why should I expect different from others? Are we not all the same, social and political (i.e. pointless) segmentations not being considered? 

It was then that I decided follow Lord Krishna's diktat about bothering about one's work and turning a blind eye to all else, etc. I will post articles henceforth doing only minimal publicity (i.e, posting them on my social networking face(-book)s) and will not fret and flounder around with its associated notifications. Let the material find its way into people's notice. I shall not judge another's articles/creative publications by the number of flaunty numbers attached to it, but only by its value. I will not live my life on a billboard! 

                                                   Creativity is Dead! Long Live Creativity!

From Just a few Words to a Flood of Memories...

It has been a very old habit of mine to read the newspaper in what I call the Arabic fashion - back to front. Whenever the newsboy would throw in the paper onto our verandah, on those days that I would be at the scene to pick up the daily dose of world, the first (and incidentally, the only) segment I would scan was the sports page - especially so on the occasion of a cricket match - irrespective of the contestant sides.

I would enjoy looking at the entertaining encounters between batsmen and bowlers and reading through their histories - a practice that I religiously follow to this day.

Just an hour ago, when scanning espncricinfo.com - one of the world's best cricketing almanack, archive, scoreboard, statistics screen, etc., I happened to see an interesting piece titled 'Life after Hussey' describing the veteran left-handed finisher's impact and influence on Aussie cricket and how it would affect their forthcoming tours of India and England. This led the grey cells to think of a corollary. It was then that I began to reflect on the entertaining clashes lined up in some previous Indo-Aussie matches. An adjective filled piece on Tendulkar vs. McGrath/Gillespie/Lee (Many others, sometimes all together) and Ponting vs. Kumble/Zaheer/Irfan (sometimes all of them together) would always be dancing to attract my attention. I wonder what will I read in these columns in the near future? 

There was a time when just reading those words would bring back old, vague memories of high-tension cricket, high-adrenaline action, and a true Titanic Clash (with two meanings)! And of course, one high-pitched voice going stark-raving mental in the commentary box with every stroke, dismissal and appeal. You will agree, wistfully, yet morosely that clashes today are a little less animated.

In the light of the fact that Indian World Cricket, in all formats is metamorphosing in humongous proportions, these little columns reflect on the path that lies before the young, unbaptised willows and leathers. They, in a sense, project the goods that each team brings to the turf. We had a repeat of the Last-ball morale-crunching six; we saw again the batting decline in our own backyard. We saw a World Cup resurrection again (though the synonymous matches were interchanged a little). We saw, again, the rise of the Proteas. We saw the fall of a superpower. Adding to it all, following the recent (heavy-)weight losses undergone by most teams, (I am convinced) we are about to see cricket itself reborn in a cycle that will take us back to the late 80s, only with a little more colour and (ultra-high) clarity, but with newer, greater and more taxing challenges.

Let us hope for a new Tendulkar, a new Dravid, a new Ponting, a new Flintoff to fill the old gaps, just like they original ones once filled in for Vishwanath, Gavaskar, Border and Botham. I now wait eagerly for the day when that little column fires me up before watching a match. Three greats have retired, be it on a national or an international stage. I now await the resurrection.

Don't Be just a Human, Be an INDIAN!

You must be thinking about my choice of this title, especially considering the current ripples tempest the term 'Indian' is making in the global arena. You might already be accosting me or thinking this is some kind of a satirical take on the state of affairs in the country. However, a lot of thought has gone into writing this piece.

What do I mean by 'Indian'? In this age where more often than not animals supercede us in matters of social dignity and self-respect (among many other things!) the title seems odd. But give it a little thought.

We citizens of India claim to have descended from (the standards of) such a great heritage. Then why don't we live up to it?

We claim to be the cradle of civilization on Earth, then why is the very root of humanity being so brutally culled here, while we stand still, like pillars of stone?

We claim to be the fount of all innovation, theoretical or practical, yet we have nothing material to boast of in this front.

We claim to be the nation that bore the 'Aadikavi' (The first poet), then why are we surrounded by such countless illiterates (educated and uneducated).

We call our country the 'Golden Sparrow' of the world. Look around, friend; you will find few countries that are poorer than us.

We claim to worship Dharmaraja (The God of Righteousness). Look at the present plight of this state, and I need say no more.

Our claim to be the largest democracy in the World has become one of the biggest parodical statements of recent times.

           India is in tatters as I see it. The reason? This land has no Indians.

An Indian is, I believe, the closest a person can come to being the pinnacle of natural creation. An Indian is one who is completely aware of the self. An Indian is a hardworking individual - not only physically, but even more so mentally. The Indian's brain is like the rock in a tempest - while it stands still bearing the liquid fury around it, it is actually acting as a pivot for the waves to churn around. The Indian can not only see but also foresee, on a local as well as global scale, and hence take well-weighted decisions.

An Indian has an insatiable hunger for excellence of the holistic self (all-round development) and works hard to better all past efforts and ceaselessly simplifies life at the same time. An Indian is a passionate  perfectionist, giving every being and object its due value. The concept of microcosm is both recognised and applied by the Indian in the course of day-to-day life. By virtue of this, the Indian is cognizant with the world even without being a globetrotter. An Indian knows how to make the material world simplify his life, not luxuriate it. The Indian enslaves material elements, but is not enslaved by them. An Indian may be affluent materially, but will not hesitate to bend down and scrub floors if necessary. An Indian is perhaps the most complicated form of a being that can live, because the lodestone of an Indian's lifestyle is complete simplicity.

The Indian is neither theist nor atheist, but a microcosm. An Indian recognises God only in an ideal, and works towards it, unconsciously, indeliberately, but purely due to that innate thirst for self-excellence.

An Indian is not only a model being, but also the perfect companion equalling, maybe transcending that natural marvel called Earth itself. The Indian is the motor of this world.

Now, read the title again.

And ask yourself, are you an Indian?

If you are, then you will see that every other question you have is answered above.

I hope that in the days to come, this country sees a few Indians....

 JAI HIND!

Life...

Sometimes all Seems Lost,
Sometimes it all just goes well!
But Life, O seductress Fair,
What sweet, White lies you tell!

You run this world great,
Engineering a myriad of links.
You strengthen every grain in my armour,
And then, you pierce its chinks!

Great towers, many you raise,
Huge hills, off, your cities sweep!
And then your towers you burn,
And your cities you bury deep!






O balancer of Forces divine!
What an adroit juggler you are!
But beware! For I’ll take you head on,
And will pay you, scar for scar!
 

I shall walk in this tempest,
With my head held high!
Proudly will I bear thy thorns,
And, in my time, strong, I’ll die!

Do you hear me, brother afar?
Realize your dreams, till the end.
Life’ll force you along,
But never, under her, shall you bend!

The World is yours, for all you want,
But do not take it all in greed!
For life is nothing but a law,
For every Goliath, a David it’ll breed!

              Life is a guide, very deceptive
              From birth until death, all along!
              In this lonely ocean of delight
              It ’ll sing you a beautiful song!

 


Don’t stand mesmerized ! It ’s a trap!
For only You will row your boat!
Stay still for awhile there,
And a mermaid’ll bite your throat!

               Make this journey with care, little one!
               Respect the big and small too!
               For only then will you beat life
               Only Then will life respect You!

                                                                                          - The Rainbow bird