Delhi 6

When it comes to movies, I somehow standout from the crowd. Many movies which have been panned critically and/or popularly, somehow have ended up appealing to my senses. Saawariya, and Raavan being the most glaring examples. Another one, which I just saw again today, lazing on the couch in the afternoon on account of Eid holiday, is Delhi 6. I saw this movie when I was in Pondicherry, and the only reason was the name. I used to be so Delhi-sick during those two years that anything even remotely related to Delhi was more than enough to lure me towards it. And needless to say, I fell in love with it. I always held this grudge against Bollywood for never paying a fitting homage to Delhi, while Mumbai has had plenty, especially in the form of this timeless ode from CID. However, Delhi 6 paid enough compliments to the city to fill that void a bit. Now those who like to keep up to date with worthless piece of trivia about movies would instantly point out that huge portions of the movie were shot in Jaipur, and not actual Delhi. But then, some bits were shot in Delhi, and overall, the spirit of the city was represented in all its glory and disgrace.Okay, I won't let this post too turn into an ode to Delhi.

So as I saw Delhi 6, it just struck me as a wonderful exercise in introspection. The movie was so well made, an old story so intelligently told in the mould of contemporary Indian society while simultaneously drawing parallels with the mother of all Indian tales, the evergreen Ramayan. And it definitely has to go down in history as one of the most beautifully shot and conceived movies, even if only for the song Dil gira dafatan.

Just see the video if you haven't and you'll see what I mean (hopefully). The juxtaposition of Delhi and New York to depict the central character's dilemma of dual belonging is masterpiece. The all too familiar green CNG autos and cycle rickshaws running in Times Square, or the Statue of Liberty looking over the Jama Masjid are visuals that will stay with you for long after the movie has ended. Even otherwise, the movie provides a wonderful glimpse of the contrast between the charm of Old Delhi, and the new city which aims to be at par with the best in world, with the pride of Delhi, the metro, being used heavily. It also shows how the middle class is coping with this transition, and trying to hold on to its roots, while embracing the new.

The entire movie relies heavily on symbolism, most of it derived from drawing parallels of the storyline with the epic Ramayan. Though there is nothing new in that, the presentation, and the intelligent use of the comparison is what makes this movie stand out. Another example is using the concept of the infamous black monkey of Delhi to expose the fragility of the human boiling pot that is Delhi, or rather India. It doesn't take much for a house of cards to collapse, just like the superfluous communal harmony of our society. One spark is all it takes, to turn you against the guy you shared bread with till yesterday. The movie deals with too many issues at once, communal tensions, the casteism running in our bloods, the values and traditions of a typical Indian family which the younger generations find tough to relate to and often a roadblock in the pursuit of their dreams, media's role in the society, corruption as a way of life, the old striving to survive in face of the onslaught of the new and a thousand other small things, without ever getting preachy. Aren't our day to day lives exactly similar? All of these things play out as part of regular life everyday. And the movie shows them just as such, without being preachy. It does drag, it gets boring in patches towards the end, which does disappoint by following the regular Bollywood mould. But overall, the movie manages to deliver a powerful message - the need to introspect, look within ourselves, as a nation, as a society, and as individuals - in an entertaining fashion, with loads of symbolism thrown in, sometimes subtle, and sometimes "in your face", like the crazy man with the mirror, urging everyone to look within.

The movie doesn't belong to any particular star, it belongs to the characters, the story, the director and his treatment. Though the entire supporting cast is efficient, Divya Dutta, in her blink and miss appearance, stands out. The music by A.R. Rahman was a major hit, and deservedly labelled as one of his best ever efforts. Anyhow, I fail to understand why this amazing movie failed to capture the imagination of Bollywood aficionados. Anyway, what the hell do I know? I am the guy who liked Raavan!!

Death of a Poet

As the pen laid dry,
the mind wandered,
grew restless and quivered,
exasperated,
struggling for freedom,
from the shackles of its own failings.
Longing for the free flow of a waterfall,
the carefree sprint of a deer,
the boundless flight of an eagle.

With quivering hands, it attempted to regain
the lost glory of the past,
like a fawn taking its first steps.
but was brought down to the ground,
by the ruthless claws of the predator,
Gasping for life,
Eyes longingly staring into space,
desperate to reach out,
for one last time.

Life is Stuck

So is the blog......

Stuck in the future.....

trying my hand at a little Ogden Nash

When it comes to watermelon seeds.........
the only Question is......
to eat.... or not to eat.......

Reclamation...... reloaded!!

This blog was supposed to be about reclamation. And after nearly three months of inactivity, I did reclaim something today. Just the stimuli I needed to get back to this outlet. Ever since I developed some sort of a social conscience (I'd say, around middle school), environmental issues were the prime tongs that poked it time and again, fiercely, strongly. It's not like I was a great crusader for Mother Earth, or lived my life only to serve the cause. I did just whatever was "convenient" for me. I participated actively in the school nature club, went on plantation drives, recycled paper (only as an assignment to make paper mache though!)and primarily used the strongest weapons at my disposal to get my passion across - the pen, and the mouth. I wrote articles, spoke in the school assembly about deforestation and everything else my inexperienced (though in hindsight, much more committed and dedicated) brain could fathom as the boundaries of the massive environmental crisis. How was I to know ,that what I envisaged the problem to be, was not even an iota of the reality back then? But I was passionate - the keyword here- and ready to do what ever it took on my part (of course, within my limits of convenience)to make a difference. And the response to those articles and speeches did make me feel that I was doing something significant. I did eventually realize the gravity of the whole situation as I grew up in its true proportions. But as you grow up, the realms of life expand beyond your control. Though my understanding of the whole issue was deeper now, the dual conflict of anger and helplessness it stoked within grew stronger, the barbs at the conscience grew sharper, the will and the passion to contribute, to make a difference became smaller. Convenience took more of a precedence, everything else, education, career, friends, became more important. My "contribution" was limited to the occasional use of the pen, plenty of heated discussions with like-minded friends, and keeping abreast of the situation.... both as a concerned citizen, and an aspiring biologist. The situation did not change much in college. Though I became more aware of the issue, my understanding of the problems acquired a deeper, scientific basis, and more importantly I was thrown in the company of a couple of individuals whose commitment, passion, and will was far greater than mine. Instead of being inspired to take more effective strides further, I was content with the heated discussions, putting up opinions and ideas, and doing whatever was convenient to me, using public transport by choice, saving water blah blah....., but in some way, I was still involved - still concerned. That tiny shred of involvement went away as soon as higher studies came into the picture. It was all a clean slate. I was a couple of steps away from pursuing my higher studies in wildlife and conservation biology, or even environmental studies. I was about to make a career out of my passion. But, conventional wisdom got the better of me, and steered away from the course (its a different story altogether that the road I chose from thereon was not anymore conventional than the one I left).

Its been roughly three years now since I faced that fork. In these three years, everything has changed. There is no more passion for what used to be THE CAUSE of my life, what I was meant to do. The barbs on the conscience became infrequent as opposed to constant, and conversations with those like minded individuals would make me wonder "whatever in the world happened?". Though this change also coincided with my stint in Pondy, I would not blame that place for it, as I very willingly did in my very first post here. But today, an iota of that concern, that passion, that anger, that will came back. And ironically enough, what brought it back was watching an episode of Save India's Coasts Campaign on NDTV set in...... of course, Pondicherry. I was aware of the campaign for some time, came across episodes while channel surfing, but never really stopped to watch until today.

This post was actually supposed to be on that issue - India's Coastlines and the neglect. NDTV has once again picked up something that needed URGENT attention, and kudos to them. But as I started writing, narcissism sunk in, and this whole post became just another sob story of my reclamation. But I will get to the actual issue in the next post, because now that a bit of that spark is back, the only tool I have at my disposal even now is the pen (or rather... the keyboard now actually). Till then, do check out the campaign if you are concerned.

Some Things Never Change

When life seems to be caught in a picture frame, utterly static, refusing to budge, one often finds oneself turning the pages back, trying to relive or recreate the bright spots etched in the past. In one such exercise, I recently tuned into the Wicked Hour, the western music late-night show (1 a.m.) on AIR FM Rainbow. It was an integral part of my daily routine a few years back, and very often, I found myself staying up only to listen to that entire show. Or even if the lights were out, I'd still have my earphones and cell phone ready in bed. I couldn't imagine going to bed without listening to it. Now it seems like ages have gone by since then. I don't tune in to any western music show on AIR now, while not so long ago, they were...........

Anyway, for as long as I can remember, the radio has been an integral part of my life. Even from the reserves of faded memories of childhood which one tends to retain (or build up in one's imagination), I can recall waking up to the sounds of old Hindi film classics, or classical music from the radio set, (which would now look out of place even in an antique-piece showroom, but is still safely tucked away beneath the piles of old quilts in my house), as my mother cleaned the house, gently humming along with it. Those were, I imagine, the a.m. days. Then skipping a few years in the limited reserves of memory, I arrive on the F.M. days, when following the footsteps of my teen-aged sister, I began to revel in the sounds of Whigfield, Boyzone, Backstreet Boys, Spice girls and the likes. This is when my long and memorable association with AIR FM began. This is when I first heard the sound of Shibani Kashyap's iconic jingle in English - "We got the music playing, night and day.......". Those were the days of pagers. SMS was still unheard of. I used to rush home from school, to maximize the amount of time I could spend listening to the 2-3 western music show, and not miss listening to "Words" by Boyzone, or "Sexy eyes" by Whighfield, again. Then at night, there was YAFI - You Asked For It". People used to send hand made cards and letters and what not to the RJs.

Then, as I grew up, the bond became deeper and stronger - some new artists, Shania, Savage Garden, Westlife and so on. The 2-3 show became Just For You, the pagers gave way for e-mail messages. I remember, my very first e-mail was in 9th standard from a cyber cafe, to this very show, a request for songs. The thrill of listening to my mail being read out by my favorite RJ (Meghna on Just for you), as soon as I walked into the house from school, and hearing my request being played, was no less than Halle Berry's Oscar moment! Soon, the number of shows increased - take off and time out in the morning were the reason I used to get out of the bed SHARP at 8 even on weekends. Then different shows everyday from 5-6, 8-9 and 10-11. LiveWire on Sundays was a must - thanks to my sister again. Each RJ was liked or loathed with sincere intensity. I don't exactly remember when I started listening to the Wicked hour, but I know that it became the most awaited hour of the day during my college days. Musical tastes improved, sources for western music diversified with the advent of other FM channels and cable television at home, but my loyalty to AIR was unflinching. Somewhere down the line, it became AIR FM RAINBOW, but as long as Shibani Kashyap's voice continued to entreat you to listen to the station, all was well with the world.

The world moves with the times, but not AIR FM RAINBOW. At least the western music section. The RJs, at least till the final year of my college were mostly good, and the music was, well, a mixed bag. Plenty of other channels cropped up, but they were all (and still are!) so similar that it became difficult to distinguish one from another. But AIR retained its old world charm. RJ's still continued to speak over the songs according to will, describing the merits of the song and only stopping when half of the song had already played out. Belinda Carlisle's "heaven is a place on earth...." still played out day in and day out on each and every show. Celine Dion was still the queen, though the world may have forgotten her, and "Nothing's gonna change my love for you....." was still the lovers' anthem. AIR was like a stubborn kid, which had to be different from all the other kids in class, and refused to move on to the next grade, happy and comfortable with familiarity of the old. And who would blame them, the saccharine coated messages from devout listeners (yes, SMS had arrived by now), continued to pour in, and Enrique's Escape was still requested at least 100 times a day. A few good RJs who were a breather, and gave a chance to Coldplay, Nirvanna, Alanis and others, slowly started drifting away to other lucrative assignments on th newer crop of FM stations. But the Belinda Carlisle fans refused to budge from the studios of AIR. Still, people like me were also there, staying up entire nights listening to them, living their lives along with the station, and forming bag-full of memories.

Then I went to Pondy, and not being such a big fan of the Tamil music on the local radio station, radio was replaced by my mp3 player and computer. And now, there is no more take off or time out, there is no Just for you, no more Meghna, no more Lokesh, no more Dr. Feel Good (doing quite well on another channel though). It seems AIR western music section has vowed not to budge an inch. And as I discovered the other day, Wicked hour is still there, the annoying RJs with fake accents who apparently have sworn to speak over every song innumerable times are still there, the faulty players and CDs which get stuck are still there, Shibani Kashyap still sounds as fresh as ever, heaven is still a place on earth for AIR (long live Belinda!!) .......... and all the memories, of course, still are there. As they say, somethings never change.

Filmy Dilli!

Mumbai has always been known as the home of Bollywood, or rather the Indian Film Industry. Delhi, for some obscure reason, was never really a hot spot for filming movies. It surprises me, as with its ample open spaces, green boulevards, historical monuments, and remnants of old-world charm, it appears to me as a pretty darn good destination for the Bollywood moghuls. But recently, it seems Bollywood has woken up to Delhi in a big way. And being a hard core Dilliwalah, I'm lovin' it!!

A host of movies in recent past have had at least some parts shot in this gorgeous, ancient abode of Dil walahs. Though I must say, I had never really given much thought to this while I was here. Only when I became a NRD (Non-Resident Delhiite), and spent two years of life in Pondicherry, did I begin to appreciate even a slight glimpse of my city in the movies! I still remember, watching Love Aajkal for the second time, when it was screened as part of one of the regular film festivals at the University. As soon as that particular stretch shot in Delhi (lasting not more than a few minutes) came on, I was hooting and cheering (highly atypical of me, as people who know me will tell you) like a rockstar's groupie!! The metro, Delhi haat, the wide roads, green tree-lined boulevards, the Red fort stretch of ring road...... all these must have passed in a matter of few minutes, but for me the thrill of that entire movie was encapsulated in those moments. Can you imagine, what would have happened If I had made it to Delhi 6's screening!? I saw that one too when I was in Pondy, and I still feel it is one of the best representations of the city, along with Delhi Heights, and now apparently Band Baaja Baarat, even though most of it was shot in Jaipur!! In fact, it sounds lame now, but as soon as the train used to enter Delhi on my return trips from Pondy, I would set my mp3 player to only play these two songs - ye Delhi hai mere yaar (Dilli 6) and Dilli by Rabbi Shergill (Delhi Heights) - while I soaked in the sights and sounds of the city!!! Tried to create my very own Filmy moments there!

In fact, I was excited about seeing Break ke Baad and Band Baaja Baarat only because of the AIIMS flyover and the green CNG low floor bus in their trailers respectively. And when the latter turned out to be entirely set in Delhi, with Dilli almost like a character in the film, with the Dilli wali lingo, and Delhi University campus proving to be icing on the cake, I couldn't help but salivate and begin to listen to Ainvayi Ainvayi at least ten times a day! Still waiting for a chance to catch these two movies.

I always used to rue the fact that Delhi could not boast of an extraordinary ode to itself, unlike Mumbai which has such a beautiful, immortal song dedicated to it (ye hai Bombay meri jaan). The only two songs that even come close are ye Delhi hai mere yaar (Dilli 6) and Dilli by Rabbi Shergill (Delhi Heights). The upcoming movie, No one killed Jessica, also features two songs on Delhi, but they don't even come close in terms of an ideal tribute. Though I must admit that some of the lyrics in aali re, like "Dilli hai dil waalon ki par hoton pe to gaali re", are unfortunately true. Looks like I'll have to take up this responsibility of penning down an ode to this city of mine on my own shoulders! Anyone up for composing?



Some of the films in recent memory which have had the life of an average Delhiite at their hearts are Do dooni chaar, Dil Dosti etc., and Pyar ke Side Effects. I have heard that the first one beautifully tells the story of an middle class Delhi household and its aspirations, while Dil Dosti etc. is I guess, the first film with proper DU life as its background. I wonder why more film makers don't exploit DU? And how can I forget Aisha, Sonam Kapoor's showcase for the elite, rich, pretentious and snooty Delhi, which shops in DLF Emporio and Khan market, has a luxury car for each family member, and frequents art galleries and polo matches. And I believe the rest of India, sees Delhi usually with this perspective only.

Another face of Delhi, that movie makers have now and then loved to show in their films, is its old world charm, Purani Dilli, and the various monuments adorning the city thanks to the Mughals, Lodis and the British. While Fanaa packed in a sort of Dilli darshan in its first half, the song Bol na halke halke from Jhoom barabar Jhoom too brought out the beauty of Qutub Minar. In Kurbaan, Delhi and its wide open spaces were showcased when at their best, in winters! The foggy streets, winter clothes, Rajpath, Jama Masjid..... though Delhi did not get much screen time in the movie, it was enough to get me hooked! But I was left wishing that DU really has lecturers who look like Kareena Kapoor!! And Delhi does come out at its best in winters, though immortalized in a rather crass and vulgar fashion in the song Dilli ki sardi! But more on Delhi and its winters in another post.

Now, while writing this, I realize what a mammoth task I have taken upon in trying to chronicle Delhi's tryst with Hindi cinema. I still haven't even touched upon two of Hindi film Industry's biggest and most high-impact hits, both with the Aamir Khan stamp of quality cinema - Rang De Basanti, and 3 Idiots. While for RDB, Delhi provided the perfect setting for the portrayal of political activism, as well the exuberance and "Don't give a Damn!" attitude of today's youth (with IHC masquerading as DU!!), in 3 Idiots, it just played a titsy bitsy role, with a cameo by the iconic CP. In fact, RDB led to the first massive media-led movements for social justice, and brought the common man out on the streets in wake of the Jessica lal murder case (if I remember correctly). A unique case of life imitates art, and vice versa too, cuz now the highly anticipated film No one killed Jessica brings to screen that very same pioneering mass activism movement.

So before a myriad other films featuring Delhi start flooding my brain, I will wrap this up, hoping to catch Band Baaja Baarat and a simple request to the film-wallahs, ye Dil maange more of Dilli! And if you have Delhi in your film, you have my ticket!