tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32394895640506994472013-11-23T05:18:36.194-08:00Kathmandu Speaks! Are you listening?Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.comBlogger262125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-92036468779251926902013-03-16T08:34:00.000-07:002013-03-16T08:36:01.092-07:00New Book for The Pirate Bay Generation<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BUSSCCE" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TvIgqZI4vpA/UUSQBegkrVI/AAAAAAAADtM/Csv7kFh7qDg/s640/Cover.png" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Available on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BUSSCCE" target="_blank">Amazon Kindle </a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">To request a copy for press review, </div><div style="text-align: center;">please write to salik@pulpflow.com</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-10575569317135238532013-03-13T03:54:00.001-07:002013-03-13T03:54:29.448-07:00Slideshare: Top Presentation of the Day<blockquote class="twitter-tweet"><p>How to Write Perfect Sentences for Facebook <a href="http://t.co/b3hNSqcXcT" title="http://www.slideshare.net/salik/how-to-write-perfect-sentences-for-facebook-twitter-linkedin-websites-headlines-brochures-etc">slideshare.net/salik/how-to-w…</a> is now Top Presentation of the Day on Slideshare! <a href="http://t.co/L5AuR7icSe" title="http://twitter.com/salik/status/309229306490527745/photo/1">twitter.com/salik/status/3…</a></p>— Salik Shah (@salik) <a href="https://twitter.com/salik/status/309229306490527745">March 6, 2013</a></blockquote><script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-91195904144298598682012-12-04T21:10:00.000-08:002012-12-04T21:10:07.547-08:00Love Edit is out!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jEXEim5S_48/UL7Wqx1MC7I/AAAAAAAADrk/cpA0SUVl4cQ/s1600/COver-Love-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jEXEim5S_48/UL7Wqx1MC7I/AAAAAAAADrk/cpA0SUVl4cQ/s400/COver-Love-Edit.jpg" width="267" /></a>Renu Sharma is a film editor in Bombay, living an ordinary life with a struggling filmmaker for a husband. The quest for happiness and fulfillment through cinema brings their lives to an eventual freeze—until the man plots a new story about the two of them, a newborn child and the sea. <i>Love Edit</i> is a simple short story about love and its thousand shades: some beautiful, some ugly.<br /><br />Read excerpts <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00AI0MKRI" target="_blank">here</a> on Amazon.<br /> Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-54953192409852969002012-06-20T07:58:00.001-07:002012-06-20T08:20:55.977-07:00CYPHERPUNK CINEMA: Life of a Movie Pirate<div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><img alt="Cypherpunk Cinema: Limited DVD edition" height="320" src="http://salikshah.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/cypherpunk-dvd-case.png" width="400" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">CYPHERPUNK CINEMA is a book and a documentary about the cypherpunks and the movie pirates. It’s about the new Robinhoods who risk their freedom and safety to make anonymous data-sharing and p2p possible on the Internet, and it’s an intimate look at guys like you and me whose lives got totally transformed along the way. It’s about a generation of cinephiles who never gets the limelight: the unsung heroes and weirdos who spend hours cleaning up the audio or adjusting the color tone of a stealthily recorded movie. And those who write the srts and subs we call subtitles! There is also a sense of bitter competition and rivalry among the pirates to get <em>their</em> movie out there first before someone else does. Sadly, some even rat out the other to the police. For what? I don’t know. But I want to find out. I want to meet these guys and discover their reasons and fundamental beliefs which have influenced and changed the lives of millions of people around the world and educated, yes educated, a whole new generation of technophiles and movie buffs. </div></div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /><a href="http://www.indiegogo.com/cypherpunkcinema?a=712407" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank"><img alt="IMAGiNE busted" height="218" src="http://salikshah.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/torrentfreak.png" style="border: 0px; max-width: 580px;" width="400" /></a><br /><br /></div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Please back us; we need your support. Without your backing, this is mission impossible. The world is filled with people who desperately want to learn. These are the people who rely on p2p and file-sharing networks i.e. the Web, not for movies... That is secondary. These are the people who aren't interested in money, but a kind of true enlightenment which is possible only through <a href="http://youtu.be/NVJo8yyiOlI" style="color: #1eb9c1; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">knowledge and true education</a>. They are the ones who download lectures, tutorials, interviews, talks, books and all sorts of study materials from the Internet. And we simply cannot deny them this access which they have to this collective wisdom of our civilization, because they are the ones who are going to become the future statesmen, politicians, university professors and policy-makers. They are the ones who are going to change this world for better.” </div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Help us to make it happen: <a href="http://www.indiegogo.com/cypherpunkcinema?a=712407" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.indiegogo.<wbr></wbr>com/cypherpunkcinema?a=712407</a><br /><br /></div>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-88095012784232735512012-02-21T11:23:00.000-08:002012-02-21T11:23:54.822-08:00Cinema, citizenship and the promise of the internet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.opendemocracy.net/salik-shah/cinema-citizenship-and-promise-of-internet-personal-view-from-third-world"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N1pkDEW_SDc/T0PuMgBBPNI/AAAAAAAADYE/IvsWYNhXGG0/s400/Screen+shot+2012-02-22+at+12.48.24+AM.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />You can now read my write up on piracy, film culture and citizenship here on <a href="http://www.opendemocracy.net/salik-shah/cinema-citizenship-and-promise-of-internet-personal-view-from-third-world">openDemocracy</a>.Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-24599353183735187272012-01-19T02:33:00.000-08:002012-01-19T02:40:54.755-08:00Year 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qHLIl0JKe1E/TxfxVgLhFSI/AAAAAAAADXg/7wqG6tX38WI/s1600/harold%2Bpinter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="231" width="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qHLIl0JKe1E/TxfxVgLhFSI/AAAAAAAADXg/7wqG6tX38WI/s400/harold%2Bpinter.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><blockquote class="twitter-tweet"><p>Year 2012 is leading me back to my emotional atlas: Pinter and Beckett, Bergman and Welles, these are going to be my mainstay. <a href="https://twitter.com/search/%2523writing">#writing</a></p>— Salik Shah (@salik) <a href="https://twitter.com/salik/status/159943910418944001" data-datetime="2012-01-19T10:22:54+00:00">January 19, 2012</a></blockquote><script src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script><br /><br />Read my latest post here: <br /><a href="http://www.google.co.in/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=%22the%20capra%20hyperbole%3A%20one%20man%2C%20one%20films%22%20salikshah.com&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CCIQFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fsalikshah.com%2F2012%2F01%2Fcapra-riskin-relationship%2F&ei=HO4XT-T1LI2zrAfSh63fDQ&usg=AFQjCNH23PsT_vFUkAoPwstERgKDOiSEuw&sig2=P_vdb8AUpkPZ4uGSoisITg">The Capra Hyperbole: One Man, One Film</a>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-13930411409903215602011-06-08T04:50:00.000-07:002012-02-18T07:34:23.208-08:00the Great War in Burma<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VNGwgWSY_oI/Tz_E8n5vRoI/AAAAAAAADX4/K6Isrd8uS74/s1600/tweet.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VNGwgWSY_oI/Tz_E8n5vRoI/AAAAAAAADX4/K6Isrd8uS74/s320/tweet.PNG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-80014433851036148812011-04-13T04:23:00.000-07:002012-01-19T02:45:54.941-08:00Cable Journalism & The Hindu<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jx1DYWavw_w/TaWF_p7_NOI/AAAAAAAADLE/RYMeQiPCqbo/s1600/TH12_THERN_NEW_ASSA_547997f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jx1DYWavw_w/TaWF_p7_NOI/AAAAAAAADLE/RYMeQiPCqbo/s400/TH12_THERN_NEW_ASSA_547997f.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Cable reporting or cable journalism: </span></b><br /><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span>What is your news organisation doing? </b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Most of the early reporting on cables that have released, by our media partners and others, is what I call cable reporting. It is to read a cable, to pick out a few quotes, to say who the principal characters are, and then to publish that story. It is not cable journalism. Cable journalism is to read the cables, correlate them with other cables, with interviews of people, with archive searches, with record searches, and investigate the whole situation. And produce something that is more complex, describes a more complex situation. It takes longer but ultimately is the only way to really get at complex situations or situations that occur multiple times in the cable history. — N. Ram interviews Julian Assange (<a href="http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/article1688975.ece?homepage=true">1</a>, <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/op-ed/article1688846.ece">2</a> & <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/op-ed/article1691777.ece">3</a>)</div><br />New Statesman Debate (Video): Report <a href="http://www.newstatesman.com/blogs/the-staggers/2011/04/assange-whistleblowers">I</a> & <a href="http://www.newstatesman.com/blogs/the-staggers/2011/04/assange-murray-speech">II</a><br /><object height="329" width="400"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jfXSoHkF7hU&rel=0&hl=en_GB&feature=player_embedded&version=3"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jfXSoHkF7hU&rel=0&hl=en_GB&feature=player_embedded&version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="400" height="329"></embed></object>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-32788108036807245112011-02-18T22:26:00.000-08:002011-02-18T22:27:20.939-08:00Crazy Windmills: Signs of Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A71Fi7SGvZU/TV9htBUDRWI/AAAAAAAADHs/HPJqLZG8WC4/s1600/image002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: none; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="332" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A71Fi7SGvZU/TV9htBUDRWI/AAAAAAAADHs/HPJqLZG8WC4/s400/image002.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>"Whilst in Greece I walked around the mountains of Crete where I came across a valley. I had to sit down because I was sure I had gone insane. Before me lay 10,000 windmills—it was like a field of flowers gone mad—turning and turning with these tiny squeaking noises. I sat down and pinched myself. ‘I have either gone insane or have been something very significant indeed.’ Of course, it turned out that the windmills were for real and this central image became a pivotal point of the film, landscape in complete ecstasy and fantastic madness. I knew as I stood there that I would return one day to make a film. Had I never seen the windmills, I would not have made the connecting between this fantastic landscape and the von Arnim story, which I read only later on." – On ‘Signs of Life’ from ‘Herzog on Herzog’<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="310" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Q-1Vv9WC-Is" title="YouTube video player" width="400"></iframe>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-584503583197813822010-12-13T10:06:00.000-08:002010-12-13T16:26:00.128-08:00The Human Condition Trilogy<div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/TQZj154J_RI/AAAAAAAADFQ/oS5x4KCVF_w/s1600/3916910269_e19972c6c5.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/TQZj154J_RI/AAAAAAAADFQ/oS5x4KCVF_w/s400/3916910269_e19972c6c5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550233368501288210" border="0" /></a></div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/TQZj1cWDtZI/AAAAAAAADFI/HgNyfTBjo9g/s400/11019352_gal.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550233360573642130" border="0" /><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/TQZj1RsSLuI/AAAAAAAADFA/BIEiw7Km8lQ/s400/90-second-expert-japanese-cinema-00-429-75.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 288px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550233357714075362" border="0" /><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/TQZj8ZrUWgI/AAAAAAAADFg/Tj6d7NesTh4/s400/human_con.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550233480116591106" border="0" /><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/TQZj8m3B1PI/AAAAAAAADFo/rQeAl_70WY0/s400/human-condition-nakadai-1.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 278px;" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550233483655369970" border="0" /><br /><br /><b><span class="Apple-style-span">Kurosawa vs. Kobayashi:<br />The Futility of Exposition</span></b><br /><br />After watching <i>The Human Condition (1959-1961)</i>, one gets the feeling that Akira Kurosawa was like the quitter(s) in Masaki Kobayashi's trilogy. They called Kurosawa a coward (he tried to commit suicide). They accused him of not confronting the enemies of his times (he preferred ghosts of the national past to living devils). They said he didn't give his villains a face or put on too tough a battle. But then the Russians or the commies don't come across as the real villains in <i>The Human Condition</i>. The real enemies of the people of Japan are the Japanese themselves. Kurosawa makes exactly the same point over and again in most of his films, doesn't he? Take <i>The Bad Sleep Well (1960) </i>or <i>Red Beard (1965) </i>for instance, aren't they similar to <i>The Human Condition</i> in their themes minus the political exposition?<div><br />While I enjoyed the sword fight in <i>Harakiri (1962) </i>(it was otherwise a dull movie), I think Sadao Yamanaka's <i>Humanity and Paper Balloons (1937) </i>is far superior in its representation of the reality of a Samurai family fallen on difficult times. If Kurosawa does seem Hollywoodish like Satyajit Ray (another filmmaker accused of being 'too Western'), Kobayashi's dependency on novelistic device to use space and time doesn't necessarily mean that he makes an impact as one would expect from such a great polemic. Perhaps that is what David Thomson means when he says Kobayashi isn't quite original like Yasujiro Ozu or Kenji Mizoguchi (and Kurosawa is not as great as both of them).<br /><br />>>Further Reading: <a href="http://mubi.com/topics/6277?page=2">MUBI</a><br /></div>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-58599449218901955282010-11-30T15:41:00.000-08:002010-11-30T18:13:11.206-08:00The Radia tapes: 'Tip of an iceberg'This wasn't Barkha’s first error of judgment, and it won't be her last. <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.openthemagazine.com/category/tags/x-tapes">Open </a>did the right thing by 'exposing' public faces of journalism.<br /><br /><object width="400" height="329"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mmFKLqonngU?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mmFKLqonngU?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="329"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Readings: </span><br /><a href="http://kathmanduspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/02/unfortunate-analogy.html">The Unfortunate Analogy</a>: a post from Kathmandu Speaks from February 2009, also related to Barkha Dutt brand of journalism.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/The%20public%20has%20a%20right%20to%20know">The Public Right to Know</a> [The Hindu]<br /><a href="http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/lead/article907823.ece">The spotlight is on media now </a>[The Hindu]<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Videos:</span><br /><br />Karan Thapar: Radia tapes dent 'the fourth estate' (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ko9_J0P4o-k">Part I</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-a2ZqEcPcc&feature=related">Part II</a>)<br />NDTV: <a href="http://www.ndtv.com/video/player/news/barkha-dutt-other-editors-on-radia-tapes-controversy/178964">Barkha Dutt, other editors on Radia tapes controversy</a><br /><br /><object height="185" width="440"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ko9_J0P4o-k?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ko9_J0P4o-k?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="185" width="440"></embed></object><br /><br /><object height="240" width="460"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/d-a2ZqEcPcc?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/d-a2ZqEcPcc?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="240" width="460"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Clarification:</span> The furor is not about Barkha Dutt, the woman<br />or the person, but Barkha Dutt, the journalist.Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-41539266003554395262010-11-14T23:30:00.000-08:002010-11-14T23:44:08.565-08:00मर गया देश, अरे, जीवित रह गये तुम<object width="450" height="335"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EfnEOBUpz7c?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EfnEOBUpz7c?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="450" height="335"></embed></object><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;font-size:14px;"><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;font-size:small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:small;"><em style="font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; ">सतह से उठता आदमी, गजानन माधव</em> 'मुक्तिबोध'<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 28px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:medium;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify; ">ओ मेरे आदर्शवादी मन,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">ओ मेरे सिद्धान्तवादी मन,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">अब तक क्या किया ?</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">जीवन क्या जिया !!</div><div style="text-align: justify; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify; ">उदरम्भरि बन अनात्म बन गये,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">भूतों की शादी में कनात से तन गये,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">किसी व्यभिचारी के बन गये बिस्तर,</div><div style="text-align: justify; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify; ">दु:खों के दाग़ों को तमग़े सा पहना,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">अपने ही ख़यालों में दिन-रात रहना,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">असंग बुद्धि व अकेले में सहना,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">ज़िन्दगी निष्क्रिय बन गयी तलघर,</div><div style="text-align: justify; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify; ">अब तक क्य किया,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">जीवन क्या जिया!!</div><div style="text-align: justify; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify; ">................</div><div style="text-align: justify; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify; ">भावना के कर्तव्य त्याग दिये,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">हॄदय के मन्तव्य मर डाले!</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">बुद्धि का भाल ही फोड़ दिया,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">तर्कों के हाथ ही उखाड़ दिये,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">जम गये, जाम हुए फंस गये,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">अपने ही कीचड़ में धंस गये !!</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">विवेक बघार डाला स्वार्थों के तेल में,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">आदर्श खा गये.</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">अब तक क्या किया,</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">जीवन क्या जिया !!</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">बहुत-बहुत ज़्यादा लिया,दिया बहुत-बहुत कम</div><div style="text-align: justify; ">मर गया देश, अरे, जीवित रह गये तुम !</div></span>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-11917486992072427322010-05-02T11:48:00.000-07:002010-05-02T13:24:13.048-07:00Baatuli : Film Poster Review<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">I love heroes and heroes should be heroes and heroes only. I do not believe in the concept of characterization—not at the cost of Biraj Bhatta himself—for without his mane, he will not be Biraj Bhatta. It is not a question of art—it is bullshit. It is not an oversight. It is the necessity of our cinema—the cinema of the people—of the country which is in love with its hair because there is nothing beneath it.</span></span><br /><br /></div><div>Butwal/January 10, 2010:<br /><br /></div>Ranjit Rana’s film poster is hanging from a tree at a junction in front of Kalika theater in Butwal. The poster shows Rekha Thapa in a red gunwoo-choli driving a buffalo cart laden with milk containers. In the background is the setting of a magnificent dawn. She elegantly poses for the picture. Her simplicity, charm and boldness have made her the darling of our cinema.<br /><br /><div>Before I forget, let me add Biraj Bhatta bringing his two palms tight close to his chest to form a Namaste looks flimsy—a gimmick which is certainly a crowd-puller. He plays a monk? I understand the superstar cannot shave his head even if the situation of the scene demands it. It might just be a disguise of a monk—just a thing that might not be important at all in the film. Besides, I wouldn’t want to fancy seeing him as a character. I love heroes and heroes should be heroes and heroes only. I do not believe in the concept of characterization—not at the cost of Biraj Bhatta himself—for without his mane, he will not be Biraj Bhatta. It is not a question of art—it is bullshit. It is not an oversight. It is the necessity of our cinema—the cinema of the people—of the country which is in love with its hair because there is nothing beneath it.<div><br />Three months ago, I saw Kusume Rumal at Kalika with some director and producer friends. That was a total disgrace—they should have forbidden whoever made it from such an expensive, tasteless show of nakedness. Even vulgarity is better than this. So many film posters I have overlooked since my return lack the soul of this particular poster. Baatuli comes as a break as an honest picture. Rekha looks more appealing when she is properly covered. Biraj is not flexing his muscles here—the director knows fully the power of his confident gesture. Ranjit Rana realizes he need not convince the audience of the hero’s strength.<br /><br />Also, the film poster has Rajesh Hamal at a top-left corner in this picture. A face that has become so commonplace that anyone could hardly miss or spare it any attention. He is what he is not. There must be a story about a man who cannot adjust himself in the marketplace until he becomes the market. Either he must cease to exist and complain, or let cinema survive. Rajesh Hamal is what Nepali cinema is today. There is a sense of defeat in his decision to carry on with his assignments—his marriage to the medium has been extremely unsatisfying, an exploit which had had its memorable moments. His glory overshadows his extraordinary failings. Yet we cannot hate him. We must and should blame this strongman for the way cinema is in this country. We must also appreciate him for making cinema what it is in the national context.<br /><br />Our cinema rarely gives us a reason to celebrate. Baatuli must be a good film if my first impression is right. There is a delicate harmony of colors at work in this image—a brilliant balance. The colors do not seem unwanted—they have earned their place. Ranjit Rana deserves attention for this. I do not want to see his film right now. I am afraid it might disappoint me. I am afraid that I might not believe in what I have just seen—a false hope is better than no hope. I really want to see Baatuli as I see it now: True, humble and worth entertaining.<br /><br />P.S. Half an hour later, a second poster cured me of my latest obsession with Baatuli’s attractive legs.<br /></div></div>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-67878324570169313682010-03-14T05:32:00.000-07:002010-03-30T13:11:21.140-07:00Chasing DreamsUpdate: Struggling with comedy.<br /><br /><embed src="http://static.issuu.com/webembed/viewers/style1/v1/IssuuViewer.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" menu="false" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" flashvars="mode=embed&viewMode=presentation&layout=http%3A%2F%2Fskin.issuu.com%2Fv%2Fdark%2Flayout.xml&showFlipBtn=true&documentId=100313223308-833e531abd7c47f187fda2ac5e0bedd4&docName=chasing-dreams-january-30--2008&username=salikshah&loadingInfoText=Chasing%20dreams-January%2030%2C%202008&et=1268570861709&er=49" style="width:390px;height:561px" name="flashticker" align="middle"></embed><br /><br /><embed src="http://static.issuu.com/webembed/viewers/style1/v1/IssuuViewer.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" menu="false" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" flashvars="mode=embed&viewMode=presentation&layout=http%3A%2F%2Fskin.issuu.com%2Fv%2Fdark%2Flayout.xml&showFlipBtn=true&documentId=100313223335-9210764296864c92a17f1df635b975d3&docName=in-search-of-lost-pride-august-12--2007&username=salikshah&loadingInfoText=In%20search%20of%20lost%20pride-August%2012%2C%202007&et=1268570349250&er=16" style="width:390px;height:561px" name="flashticker" align="middle"></embed><br /><br /><embed src="http://static.issuu.com/webembed/viewers/style1/v1/IssuuViewer.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" menu="false" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" flashvars="mode=embed&viewMode=presentation&layout=http%3A%2F%2Fskin.issuu.com%2Fv%2Fdark%2Flayout.xml&showFlipBtn=true&documentId=100313223507-31ef2bf4ae2949818dd25acd6af1047e&docName=kumari-the-arresting-goddess-november-12--2006&username=salikshah&loadingInfoText=Kumari%20The%20arresting%20goddess-November%2012%2C%202006&et=1268570939988&er=25" style="width:390px;height:561px" name="flashticker" align="middle"></embed><br /><br /><embed src="http://static.issuu.com/webembed/viewers/style1/v1/IssuuViewer.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" menu="false" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" flashvars="mode=embed&viewMode=presentation&layout=http%3A%2F%2Fskin.issuu.com%2Fv%2Fdark%2Flayout.xml&showFlipBtn=true&documentId=100313223407-12aacdc6207d442db8a032f3d946bf6b&docName=my-memorable-interview-october-22--2006&username=salikshah&loadingInfoText=My%20memorable%20interview-October%2022%2C%202006&et=1268570735899&er=13" style="width:390px;height:561px" name="flashticker" align="middle"></embed><br /><br />Other writings published on The Kathmandu Post:<br /><a href="http://issuu.com/salikshah">http://issuu.com/salikshah</a>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-35237102627943128022009-03-28T00:05:00.000-07:002009-04-02T13:05:37.994-07:00Essential Ritwik Ghatak<span style="font-weight: bold;">Nature of artist and purpose of his art</span><br /><br />"Satyajit Ray is the suitable boy of Indian film, presentable, career-oriented, and reliably tasteful. Ghatak, by contrast, is an undesirable guest: he lacks respect, has "views", makes a mess, disdains decorum." — Jacob Levich<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">From</span> Ritwik Ghatak, by Megan Carrigy (<a href="http://archive.sensesofcinema.com/contents/directors/03/ghatak.html">Senses of Cinema</a>)<br /><br />What is clearly evident in these words is a deeply sensitive human being who was equally prone to moments of unparalleled brilliance as he was to horrible lapses of self-destruction: an artist and cultivated thinker so idealistic, passionate, and profoundly humanist that he felt deeply - and consequently, suffered greatly - for the profound rapture and burden of existence in this complex, often terrible, and terrifyingly uncertain world.<br /><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 138px; height: 206px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sc3NmX-N49I/AAAAAAAACgM/AFDrg_Rh0N0/s400/ghatak.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318132794148119506" border="0" /><br />— <a href="http://www.filmref.com/journal2004.html#ghatak">Notes on <span style="font-style: italic;">Rows and Rows of Fences</span></a><br /><br /><span>Read excerpts from the book: <a href="http://windsfromtheeast.blogspot.com/2009/04/interview-with-ritwik-ghatak.html">Wind from the East</a></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Recommended:</span><br /><br />Me? I have never even questioned it. I am individualistic, from the start to end. My individualism is a fact, but that should not be held against me or my work. "I am continuously individualistic". But miyaan, what does that have to do with anything? "Life is like that!" I have been part of a lot of trouble and mischief, but I have never ever harmed anyone. Don't you get it, miyaan?<br /><br />— Ghatak’s interview in translation by <a href="http://dipanjanc.blogspot.com/2007/05/interview-with-ritwik-kumar-ghatak-1975.html">Dipanjan Chattopadhyay</a><br /><br />Download link (docx) here: <a href="http://www.mediafire.com/file/znnmuzj5jdm/Ghatak.docx">Ghatak with Prabir Sen</a>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-41598322660376463502009-03-21T00:17:00.000-07:002009-03-21T00:33:09.040-07:00What happened to the boy?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScSUmZ2e5GI/AAAAAAAACfg/HrMBUhs8O2Y/s1600-h/mosafer.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 394px; height: 539px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScSUmZ2e5GI/AAAAAAAACfg/HrMBUhs8O2Y/s400/mosafer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315536847699371106" border="0" /></a><br />A boy in some Iranian village is obsessed with soccer. His ‘ambition’ is to reach Tehran to see a soccer match. He doesn’t know what ‘maneuver’ means. But he steals, cheats and escapes home.<br />It’s more like a documentary, and the filming felt amateurish but real. What happened to the boy? I don’t think he returned home. Did he become a footballer? I hope so. It's time to go.Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-57986799167303248622009-03-18T22:08:00.000-07:002009-03-18T22:32:03.366-07:00Reliving memories<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScHXojYVzsI/AAAAAAAACcw/qYnL7wuydKM/s1600-h/dots.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 141px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScHXojYVzsI/AAAAAAAACcw/qYnL7wuydKM/s400/dots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314766126965968578" border="0" /></a><br />‘Andheri West.’<br /><br />When I was in my early teens I think, I wrote my first letter.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/b8oyfBYiR5-ZXky1qQqdVg?authkey=Gv1sRgCLCTs5S_sqm1vQE&feat=embedwebsite"><img style="width: 399px; height: 552px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScGeiCTZ2XI/AAAAAAAACco/-fI41_Nx2Qw/s400/crocodile-3.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/kathspeaks/KathmanduSpeaksAreYouListening02?authkey=Gv1sRgCLCTs5S_sqm1vQE&feat=embedwebsite">Kathmandu Speaks! Are you listening?</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />And it was for none other than Disney Hour! YUP! I had sent my drawings of Ninjas and Darkwing Duck somewhere at this address. Today when this address came up in a conversation, I relived the oldest memory associated with Mumbai.<br />They call it a dream city, you know?<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScHXojYVzsI/AAAAAAAACcw/qYnL7wuydKM/s1600-h/dots.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 141px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScHXojYVzsI/AAAAAAAACcw/qYnL7wuydKM/s400/dots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314766126965968578" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Two films</span><br /><br />I watched Tom DiCillo's <span style="font-style: italic;">Living In Oblivion </span>and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giuseppe_Tornatore" title="Giuseppe Tornatore"></a>Giuseppe Tornatore's <span style="font-style: italic;">Cinema Paradiso</span>, among other films, last week. Abbas Kiarostami’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Mosāfer </span>and Ismaël Ferroukhi’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Le Grand Voyage</span> is on the list for the week.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScHXojYVzsI/AAAAAAAACcw/qYnL7wuydKM/s1600-h/dots.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 141px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScHXojYVzsI/AAAAAAAACcw/qYnL7wuydKM/s400/dots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314766126965968578" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Anurag isn’t God, he ain’t Godard either</span><br /><br />I'm hooked to PFC after my <a href="http://passionforcinema.com/gulaal-anurag-isnt-god-he-aint-godard-either/">Gulaal</a> post.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScHXojYVzsI/AAAAAAAACcw/qYnL7wuydKM/s1600-h/dots.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 141px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScHXojYVzsI/AAAAAAAACcw/qYnL7wuydKM/s400/dots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314766126965968578" border="0" /></a><br />Further readings:<br /><a href="http://passionforcinema.com/gulaal-anurag-isnt-god-he-aint-godard-either/">Gulaal</a><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Traveller_%28film%29">Mosāfer</a><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Living_in_Oblivion">Living In Oblivion</a><br /><a href="http://www.lib.berkeley.edu/MRC/moviesaboutmovies.html"></a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cinema_Paradiso">Cinema Paradiso</a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Le_Grand_Voyage">Le Grand Voyage</a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScHXojYVzsI/AAAAAAAACcw/qYnL7wuydKM/s1600-h/dots.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 141px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScHXojYVzsI/AAAAAAAACcw/qYnL7wuydKM/s400/dots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314766126965968578" border="0" /></a>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-8834646891072353102009-03-17T22:44:00.000-07:002009-03-18T07:40:10.558-07:00Pakeezah (1972)<span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">On Pakeezah</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScCLGkNOriI/AAAAAAAACcg/zsw0Gq8gMB4/s1600-h/pakeezah.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 193px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/ScCLGkNOriI/AAAAAAAACcg/zsw0Gq8gMB4/s400/pakeezah.jpg" alt="Meena Kumari - Paakeezah (1972)" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314400505211825698" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The train</span></span><br /><br />She cut my wings<br />to put me in a cage<br />and tied my legs with anklets.<br />But i just wanted to run<br />in the noiseless hour of dawn<br />after the snake-like train<br />back to the night of rain<br />telling myself, i won’t sleep —<br />this time i’ll keep my eyes open for him.<br /><br />O stranger,<br />you took me away from me<br />My joy, please do not abandon me<br />It’s not you, it’s the train<br />which brings back my pain<br />with even more intensity<br />than my poetry.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">March 16, ‘09</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >II</span><br /><br />she kissed my feathers<br />before plucking them<br />out of my skin<br />i couldn't even cry<br />the hissing whistles<br />from the smoky screen<br />anesthetized me<br />that monstrous train<br />that devil took away from me<br />this pain of my anklets<br />they bleed my soul<br />my feet,<br />my feet<br />they seek your gaze<br />they yearn, they play<br />for a foolish flirt<br />this aching heart<br />this living dead<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">March 17, 09</span></span>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-56943818758242913232009-03-16T20:51:00.000-07:002009-03-15T21:21:23.569-07:00Anurag isn’t God, he ain’t Godard either<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Updated: 16 March, '09</span><br /><br />Read my Gulaal review on <a href="http://passionforcinema.com/gulaal-anurag-isnt-god-he-aint-godard-either/">Passionforcinema</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sbsp5PJQwKI/AAAAAAAACcY/skGw1F4SEuE/s1600-h/gulal.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 396px; height: 505px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sbsp5PJQwKI/AAAAAAAACcY/skGw1F4SEuE/s400/gulal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312886248708292770" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" >March 14, 2009 @ work</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><span>Further reading:</span><br /><a href="http://passionforcinema.com/gulaal-music-review-lovepowerrevolution/">Gulaal's music: Love, power, revolution</a>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-82655496049650340692009-03-12T04:39:00.000-07:002009-03-12T04:53:45.996-07:00Meeting Self: Egon Schiele<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sbj3bKHHbII/AAAAAAAACcQ/Nvs6hMqyIec/s1600-h/Egon_Schiele_085.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 390px; height: 719px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sbj3bKHHbII/AAAAAAAACcQ/Nvs6hMqyIec/s400/Egon_Schiele_085.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312267806426229890" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sbj2ykFkGFI/AAAAAAAACcI/oNkVRWXZOfQ/s1600-h/D319D05Dd01.jpeg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 390px; height: 584px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sbj2ykFkGFI/AAAAAAAACcI/oNkVRWXZOfQ/s400/D319D05Dd01.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312267109024405586" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sbj2YP98DuI/AAAAAAAACcA/Bdv9ELU9UhU/s1600-h/ZelfPortretStaandG.jpeg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 390px; height: 598px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sbj2YP98DuI/AAAAAAAACcA/Bdv9ELU9UhU/s400/ZelfPortretStaandG.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312266656947113698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sbj1D6ipQyI/AAAAAAAACb4/Y-g4VBQCCpc/s1600-h/KlaarG.jpeg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 390px; height: 604px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sbj1D6ipQyI/AAAAAAAACb4/Y-g4VBQCCpc/s400/KlaarG.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312265208086479650" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">All works by Egon Schiele<br /></div><br />Reference for the self: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egon_Schiele">Wiki</a>, <a href="http://www.doc.ic.ac.uk/%7Esvb/Schiele/">Gallery</a>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-28855127667158987802009-03-10T11:41:00.000-07:002009-03-10T12:02:09.660-07:00Being Charlie Kaufman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.cbc.ca/gfx/images/arts/photos/2008/09/09/arts_charlie-kaufman_584.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 223px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/Sba3iyAwc3I/AAAAAAAACbg/WKycsFECmBI/s400/cba-charlie-kaufman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311634618698462066" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Watch Interviews:</span><br /><br />On Charlie Rose (Part <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uy14g1jtW9M">I</a> & <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkqfJKvf36k">II</a>) (17 min)<br />On Synecdoche, life, work (with<a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=2419594269687982502"> Tom Tangney</a>) (17 min)<br />On writing, television years (<a href="http://www.thinktalk.com/show/charlie_kaufman">Thinktalk</a>) (12 min)<br />Charlie Kaufman On Being — And Directing (<a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=96023004">NPR</a>- audio) (30 min)<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><br />Read: </span><br /><br />Being Charlie Kaufman (<a href="http://www.salon.com/ent/col/srag/1999/11/11/kaufman/index1.html">Salon</a>)<br />Interview with Kaufman (<a href="http://www.bluntreview.com/reviews/kaufman.html">Bluntreview</a>)<br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlie_Kaufman">Wikipedia</a><br /><a href="http://passionforcinema.com/being-charlie-kaufman/">Anurag Kashyap's</a> notes Kaufman's master classSalik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-21336345524550772782009-03-08T13:01:00.000-07:002009-03-10T09:31:18.649-07:00I thought you'd be happy<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Otto e mezzo</span> (<i><b>8½)</b></i><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/SbQuWuD2YqI/AAAAAAAACbQ/KJMwH4vDvm4/s1600-h/otto+e+mezzo+anouk.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/SbQuWuD2YqI/AAAAAAAACbQ/KJMwH4vDvm4/s400/otto+e+mezzo+anouk.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310920828432835234" border="0" /></a><br />'I don't understand. He meets a girl that can give him a new life and he pushes her away?'<br /><br />Because he no longer believes in it.<br /><br />'Because he doesn't know how to love.'<br /><br />Because it isn't true that a woman can change a man.<br /><br />'Because he doesn't know how to love.'<br /><br />And above all because I don't feel like telling another pile of lies.<br /><br />'Because he doesn't know how to love.'<br /><br />I wish I could explain.<br /><br />'They say you're free, but you must learn to choose. You don't have much time. And you have to hurry.'<br /><br />He wants to grab everything, can't give up a single thing. He changes his mind every day, because he's afraid he might miss the right path.<br /><br />Will you take me along when you go?<br /><br />I didn't want to force you. I wanted to know, I just wanted to know what you thought of me.<br /><br />'Sure, I will if/when I go.'<br /><br />That's when I started to plan. And my plans were not for today. Things were too complicated at the time. I hoped with time everything would fall on place. I didn't even want to tell you I was already planning to spend my life with you. Because I wasn't sure. I left it to the time as well. But, I could see you weren't happy anymore.<br /><br />Do you want separation?<br /><br />I thought it would make you happy. That's why I did everything I did. I thought you'd be happy. That's why I did everything I did. I thought you'd be happy. That's why I did everything I did.<br /><br />I wonder why things turned out this way. When did I go wrong?<br /><br />I hadn't understood. I didn't know. It's so natural accepting you, loving you.<br /><br />And so simple.<br /><br />Everything is true. I wish I could explain. But I don't know how to. So. Everything is confused again, as it was before.<br /><br />The lights!<br /><br />But this confusion is . . . me. Not as I'd like to be, but as I am.<br /><br />I'm not afraid anymore of telling the truth, of the things I don't know, what I'm looking for and haven't found. This is the only way I can feel alive and I can look into your faithful eyes without shame. Life is a celebration. Let's live it together!<br /><br />Accept me for what I am, if you want me.<br /><br />It's the only way we might be able to find each other.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Further reading:</span><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/8%C2%BD">Wikipedia</a><br /><a href="http://passionforcinema.com/the-personal-story-otto-e-mezzo/">Read my full review on PFC</a>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-88815242131280237672009-03-07T07:57:00.000-08:002009-03-08T14:17:12.306-07:00A dictionary<span style="font-weight: bold;">Value of printed words<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/SbKZvIujtiI/AAAAAAAACbI/nBZh1uIEZEY/s1600-h/dictioanry.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uhr_UTfVFII/SbKZvIujtiI/AAAAAAAACbI/nBZh1uIEZEY/s400/dictioanry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310475945698899490" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I never liked the idea of selling old books or newspapers as a kid. My room was a small library. I used to keep Sunday editions of most newspapers. I didn't want to sell my textbooks. I loved to collect everything I had ever read — even my K.G. books. (Gulmohar was my favorite.) I had to reconsider value of the old newspapers when their volume kept growing. At the end, I decided to sell my archives of The Kathmandu Post and The Himalayan Times. I sold all the copies of The Hindu and The Statesman except their Sunday supplements. But after a few years, there was no room for those supplements as well. But I didn't sell them. How could I sell them? These were my textbooks. My room was my real school.<br /><br />Then I had to leave. After I left home, there was no one who loved them as much as I did. When I was a kid, I used to prefer comic books to my textbooks. I spent all my money on them. Mother was worried about my studies, but I couldn't change my ways. Finally one day, father decided to tear all my comic books, dozens of them, and threw them outside. That was the first lesson of my life.<br /><br />For my family, like for everyone else, old newspapers didn't deserve a place in their rooms after a certain time. After I came here, they first moved my treasure collection to a room on the ground floor which nobody used. Images of my newspapers in that cold, dark room started to haunt me for a few months. Then it stopped. I had to grow up, I had to live with this. Then, I realized I wasn't going to read those old papers again. Why should I keep them? But a part of me kept on saying: Will you also leave your beloved when they become old and 'useless'?<br /><br />Today I had to sell old books and newspapers again. The two men who had come to my flat to buy those printed words got 12 kgs of them. Last month, I had to shift to a new flat and sold well over 15 kgs. I asked them whether they have children. They said yes.<br /><br />'Don't they go to school?'<br /><br />'They do.'<br /><br />I found an old dictionary among the books I was going to sell. I had a newer edition of the Oxford dictionary but I didn't want to sell the old one just for 6 rupees a kg. So I decided to keep it.<br /><br />I also had to sell pages that I had cut from those papers because there was no point. I cannot take them along. I sold them as well. They were stuffing those papers into a jute sack, when I did a funny thing that prompted me to write this post.<br /><br />I took out the dictionary and told them: 'I will give you this dictionary if you promise me you won't sell it.'<br /><br />They looked surprised, they didn't know how to respond.<br /><br />'I am giving it for your kids. In which grade do they study?'<br /><br />There was a pause. A long one.<br /><br />'My son is in the eighth grade,' one of them said, taking the book from me.<br /><br />'Give it to him then, and tell him to study. But don't sell it. If he's a dictionary already, please ask him to give it to one of his friends who doesn't have one. But don't sell it. OK?'<br /><br />He nodded silently, and then they left.Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-77040486968866286232009-03-06T17:47:00.000-08:002009-03-06T17:49:06.832-08:00How to lose readers?<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="GramE"><span style="font-size: 155pt; line-height: 115%;">like</span></span><span style="font-size: 155pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span class="GramE"><span style="font-size: 155pt; line-height: 115%;">this</span></span>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3239489564050699447.post-87553001686104685052009-03-05T23:32:00.000-08:002009-03-05T23:36:19.393-08:00The trick of timing<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 52pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">timing<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 217pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">is <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 43pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">everything. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Salik Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16058263987673820957noreply@blogger.com0