Parzania

Year : 2005
Language : English
Cast : Naseeruddin Shah, Corin Nemec, Sarika, Parzan Dastur, Pearl Barsiwala
Direction : Rahul Dholakia

Water

Year: 2007
Language: Hindi
Cast: Seema Biswas, Sarala, Lisa Ray, John Abraham
Direction: Meera Nair

Peck on the Cheek?

Film: Kannathil Muthamittal
Year: 2002
Language: Tamizh
Direction: Mani Ratnam
Music: AR Rahman
Starring: Keerthana, Simran, R Madhavan, Nandita Das, Prakash Raj

Instant-Mix Imperial Democracy: Buy One, Get One Free

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6TCV8swmrE

Watch this video clip.

Arundhati Roy is at her best in this one. This lecture was presented in New York City at the Riverside Church, on May 13, 2003. She garnered resounding applause and quite a few peals of laughter of realisation, from a three-thousand-plus audience… 

Navarasa (2005)

Name: Navarasa
Language: Tamizh
Year: 2005
Direciton: Santosh Sivan
Cast: Swetha, Bobby Darling, Khushboo

Another Drop

Since everyone is talking, I would also like to add my share into the cacophony. I have always personally believed that religion is a personal, actually, intimate affair. For the same reason I NEVER engage in a discussion about the subject. But the recent exchange of mails (be it mere observations, participation, hurt mails, hate mails) has forced me to write in. I warn you that this is going to be a longish essay.
 
I have always felt that you can never generalize traits or shortcomings or even benefits for any religion. But since that was what was done in the past few days (by a seemingly harmless forward), I will have to resort to a few general points. The main point that has been brought out here has been violence and its propagation through religion. I will not single out any religion in this. Almost all the religions have a bloody history. And we are still continuing to make the present gory.

If we had the Internet back in the Middle Ages, I am sure the Crusades would have been a major cause for hate mails against Christians. The persecution Jews and Muslims have faced in the past is still not something that can be reconciled with. Take a walk around Kuwaat-ul-Islam (in the premises of Qutub Minar) to see how the very first mosque in India was built with the pillars and stones of Hindu and Jain temples, of course, after demolishing them to the very foundation. What the Hindus did in Ayodhya is not forgivable and will remain raw open wounds for a long time to come. What the Taliban did to the Buddha statues is heinous. Need I even begin with the conversions that have taken place into various religions? As subtle as they may seem… or as blatant as they may seem, it is still a cause of hurt for many people, many communities.

Religion has very deep connotations to it. Practicing a faith simply because you were born into it will not give you any extra right to profess that your faith is better than the other. However, if you use your time, patience, and wisdom to sit down and understand the tenets of the different religions, you will be able to see that the underlying reason behind all religions is the quest for peace. Why have a religion? So that you may have certain guidelines to live a good life. That is all to it, really. To search for quibbles and mysterious passages that look pretty shady when singled out, and to try to force out a meaning, and to condemn a religion is not a politically correct way to study religion. In fact, I would personally recommend staying out of religion if you are not mature enough to deal with it! What is mature attitude towards religion, you might ask.

A mature attitude towards religion would be to not pass judgments. A mature attitude towards religion would also mean not taking offence in the judgments passed! What one of our members did was to send across a mail to which he may or may not agree. What we all (including me) did was to suddenly get defensive and write in, in a tearing hurry! Now, that goes on to show our maturity levels and our capability to handle a discussion on such a matter. Maturity and wisdom have got nothing to do with your biological age at all. It has nothing to do with what your parents have asked you to think all this while. It comes from within and when it does, you will know it too. Why not we all wait till then?

All said and done, there is nothing wrong in a healthy discussion. Even a heated debate can be healthy as long as you maintain that you are not muck-throwing or maligning anyone. We have had discussions before. We have had interesting issues before. None of us have really chickened out when then need was there. Speaking up isn’t wrong at all. But being responsible to your audience is crucial.

This is an excerpt from a mail I shared with my group of school buddies.

Hokusai Says

Hokusai says Look carefully.
He says pay attention, notice
He says keep looking, stay curious.
He says there is no end to seeing.

He says Look Forward to getting old.
He says keep changing,
you just get more who you really are.
He says get stuck, accept it, repeat yourself
as long as it's interesting.

He says keep doing what you love.
He says keep praying.
He says every one of us is a child,

every one of us is ancient,
every one of us has a body.
He says every one of us is frightened.
He says every one of us has to find a way to live with fear.

He says everything is alive -
shells, buildings, people, fish, mountains, trees.
Wood is alive.
Water is alive.
Everything has its own life.
Everything lives inside us.
He says live with the world inside you.

He says it doesn't matter if you draw,or write books.
It doesn't matter if you saw wood, or catch fish.
It doesn't matter if you sit at home
and stare at the ants on your verandah or the shadows of the trees
and grasses in your garden.

It matters that you care.
It matters that you feel.
It matters that you notice.
It matters that life lives through you.

Contentment is life living through you.
Joy is life living through you.
Satisfaction and strength
are life living through you.
Peace is life living through you.

He says don't be afraid.
Don't be afraid.
Look, feel, let life take you by the hand.
Let life live through you.

- Roger Keyes

Books Unjust

There are two books I know I shouldn’t have discarded. Probably, the age at which I got those books was a little too early to understand the pathos of a life in oppression or repression. One such book is “Beloved” by Toni Morrison. I believe it was nominated for Booker the year I was born, need to check on the fact. I got hold of a copy when I was fifteen. It was a little too early to understand the history and trauma of the ravaging American Civil War. The story is set in Ohio at a time when Civil War was history. But not too long ago for the wounds inflicted by the traumatic event to heal. I am not in a position to review the book, simply because I didn’t read it the way it was meant to be handled. Years later, Oprah Winfrey starred in a movie based on this book. So, this is one of the books.

The second one on my list is “Scarlet Letter” by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Or was it? I had a tattered copy of the book-I distinctly remember-with a scarlet colored cover. It was not a language that I could effortlessly understand. It challenged my 13-year-old vocabulary. I am sure it still will throw up a challenge. Probably this time, in understanding the nuances of forbidden love and the guilt that comes along with the package.

The next on the list should be Lust for Life, I guess.

Kalam and Negativism

This is a speech that Dr. Abdul Kalam Azad, President of India, made in Hyderabad not so long ago. I found this very insightful and sensible.  

Why is the media here so negative? Why are we in India so embarrassed to recognize our own strengths, our achievements? We are such a great nation. We have so many amazing success stories but we refuse to acknowledge them. Why?

• We are the first in milk production.
• We are number one in Remote sensing satellites.
• We are the second largest producer of wheat.
• We are the second largest producer of rice.
• Look at Dr. Sudarshan, he has transferred the tribal village into a self-sustaining, self-driving unit.

There are millions of such achievements but our media is only obsessed in the bad news and failures and disasters. I was in Tel Aviv once and I was reading the Israeli newspaper. It was the day after a lot of attacks and bombardments and deaths had taken place. The Hamas had struck. But the front page of the newspaper had the picture of a Jewish gentleman who in five years had transformed his desert into an orchid and a granary .It was this inspiring picture that everyone woke up to. The gory details of killings, bombardments, deaths, were inside in the newspaper, buried among other news.

In India we only read about death, sickness, terrorism, crime. Why are we so NEGATIVE? Another question: Why are we, as a nation so obsessed with foreign things? We want foreign TVs, we want foreign shirts. We want foreign technology. Why this obsession with everything imported. Do we not realize that self-respect comes with self-reliance? I was in Hyderabad giving this lecture, when a 14-year-old girl asked me for my autograph. I asked her what her goal in life is. She replied: I want to live in a developed India. For her, you and I will have to build this developed India. You must proclaim. India is not an under-developed nation; it is a highly developed nation. Do you have 10 minutes? Allow me to come back with a vengeance. Got 10 minutes for your country? If yes, then read; otherwise, choice is yours.

• YOU say that our government is inefficient.
• YOU say that our laws are too old.
• YOU say that the municipality does not pick up the garbage.
• YOU say that the phones don't work, and the railways are a joke.
• YOU say the airline is the worst in the world.
• YOU say that mails never reach their destination.
• YOU say that our country has been fed to the dogs and is the absolute pits.

YOU say, say and say……………….

What do YOU do about it? Take a person on his way to Singapore. Give him a name - YOURS. Give him a face - YOURS. YOU walk out of the airport and you are at your International best. In Singapore you don't throw cigarette butts on the roads or eat in the stores. YOU are as proud of their underground links as they are. You pay $5 (approx. Rs. 60) to drive through Orchard Road (equivalent of Mahim Causeway or Pedder Road in Mumbai) between 5 PM and 8 PM. YOU come back to the parking lot to punch your parking ticket if you have over stayed in a restaurant or a shopping mall irrespective of your status identity. In Singapore you don't say anything, DO YOU? YOU wouldn't dare to eat in public during Ramadan, in Dubai. YOU would not dare to go out without your head covered in Jeddah. YOU would not dare to buy an employee of the telephone exchange in London at 10 pounds (Rs.650) a month to, 'see to it that my STD and ISD calls are billed to someone else. 'YOU would not dare to speed beyond 55 mph (88 km/h) in Washington and then tell the traffic cop, 'Jaanta hai main kaun hoon (Do you know who I am?). I am so and so's son. Take your two bucks and get lost.' YOU wouldn't chuck an empty coconut shell anywhere other than the garbage pail on the beaches in Australia and New Zealand. Why don't YOU spit Paan on the streets of Tokyo? Why don't YOU use examination jockeys or buy fake certificates in Boston??? We are still talking of the same YOU. YOU who can respect and conform to a foreign system in other countries but cannot in your own. You who will throw papers and cigarettes on the road the moment you touch Indian ground. If you can be an involved and appreciative citizen in an alien country, why cannot you be the same here in India? Once in an interview, the famous Ex-municipal commissioner of Bombay, Mr. Tinaikar, had a point to make. 'Rich people's dogs are walked on the streets to leave their affluent droppings all over the place,' he said. 'And then the same people turn around to criticize and blame the authorities for inefficiency and dirty pavements. What do they expect the officers to do? Go down with a broom every time their dog feels the pressure in his bowels? In America every dog owner has to clean up after his pet has done the job, same in Japan. Will the Indian citizen do that here?' He's right.

We go to the polls to choose a government and after that forfeit all responsibility. We sit back wanting to be pampered and expect the government to do everything for us whilst our contribution is totally NEGATIVE. We expect the government to clean up but we are not going to stop chucking garbage all over the place nor are we going to stop to pick a up a stray piece of paper and throw it in the bin. We expect the railways to provide clean bathrooms but we are not going to learn the proper use of bathrooms. We want Indian Airlines and Air India to provide the best of food and toiletries but we are not going to stop pilfering at the least opportunity. This applies even to the staff that is known not to pass on the service to the public. When it comes to burning social issues like those related to women, dowry, and girl child! And others, we make loud drawing room protestations and continue to do the reverse at home! Our excuse? 'It's the whole system which has to change, how will it matter if I alone forego my sons' rights to a dowry.' So who's going to change the system? What does a system consist of? Very conveniently for us it consists of our neighbors, other households, other cities, other communities and the government. But definitely not me and YOU. When it comes to us actually making a positive contribution to the system we lock ourselves along with our families into a safe cocoon and look into the distance at countries far away and wait for a Mr.Clean to come along & work miracles for us with a majestic sweep of his hand or we leave the country and run away. Like lazy cowards hounded by our fears we run to America to bask in their glory and praise their system. When New York becomes insecure we run to England. When England experiences unemployment, we take the next flight out to the Gulf. When the Gulf is war struck, we demand to be rescued and brought home by the Indian government. Everybody is out to abuse and rape the country. Nobody thinks of feeding the system. Our conscience is mortgaged to money. Dear Indians, The article is highly thought inductive, calls for a great deal of introspection and pricks one's conscience too…. I am echoing John F. Kennedy's words to his fellow Americans to relate to Indians

'ASK WHAT WE CAN DO FOR INDIA AND DO WHAT HAS TO BE DONE TO MAKE INDIA WHAT AMERICA AND OTHER WESTERN COUNTRIES ARE TODAY'

Lets do what India needs from us.

Dr. Abdul Kalaam
(PRESIDENT OF INDIA)

The Highwayman

PART ONE

I
THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon clondy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

II
He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

III
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shuters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

IV
And dark in the dark old inn-yard,a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

V
“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”

VI
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i’ the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.

PART TWO

I
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o’ the tawny sunset, before the rise o’ the moon,
When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George’s men came matching, up to the old inn-door.

II
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

III
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
“Now, keep good watch!” and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

IV
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,

Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

V
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love’s refrain.

VI
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!

VII
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

VIII
He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

IX
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i’ the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

X
And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

XI
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

– Alfred Noyes,The Highwayman