Kathmandu Speaks! Are you listening?

Meeting Self: Egon Schiele

2009-03-12T04:39:00.000-07:00

All works by Egon Schiele

Reference for the self: Wiki, Gallery

'Who are you accountable to?'

2009-03-14T00:12:00.000-07:00

Brawl Street: Get Ready to Buy Low! And Sell Die

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Intro - Brawl Street: Get Ready to Buy Low! And Sell Die

Daily Show Full Episodes
Important Things w/ Demetri Martin

Political Humor
Jim Cramer

"The weeklong feud of the century finally comes to a head."

Jim Cramer, the host of CNBC’s Mad Money, had to finally come to The Daily Show and admit his mistakes and ignorance while he and his channel kept on persuading people to “BUY, BUY, BUY” Wall Street stocks despite probably knowing some of the giant companies would declare bankruptcy anytime soon.

Cramer & CO. (the so-called financial analysts) knew the risk behind the madness but says he could do nothing since even CEOs were telling them lies after lies.

This is Jon Stewart and his guys at their best.

Anurag isn’t God, he ain’t Godard either

2009-03-16T20:51:00.000-07:00

Updated: 16 March, '09

Read my Gulaal review on Passionforcinema.

March 14, 2009 @ work

Further reading:
Gulaal's music: Love, power, revolution

Pakeezah (1972)

2009-03-17T22:44:00.000-07:00

On Pakeezah

The train

She cut my wings
to put me in a cage
and tied my legs with anklets.
But i just wanted to run
in the noiseless hour of dawn
after the snake-like train
back to the night of rain
telling myself, i won’t sleep —
this time i’ll keep my eyes open for him.

O stranger,
you took me away from me
My joy, please do not abandon me
It’s not you, it’s the train
which brings back my pain
with even more intensity
than my poetry.

March 16, ‘09

II

she kissed my feathers
before plucking them
out of my skin
i couldn't even cry
the hissing whistles
from the smoky screen
anesthetized me
that monstrous train
that devil took away from me
this pain of my anklets
they bleed my soul
my feet,
my feet
they seek your gaze
they yearn, they play
for a foolish flirt
this aching heart
this living dead

March 17, 09

Reliving memories

2009-03-18T22:08:00.000-07:00

‘Andheri West.’

When I was in my early teens I think, I wrote my first letter.

From Kathmandu Speaks! Are you listening?

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.
They call it a dream city, you know?

Two films

I watched Tom DiCillo's Living In Oblivion and Giuseppe Tornatore's Cinema Paradiso, among other films, last week. Abbas Kiarostami’s Mosāfer and Ismaël Ferroukhi’s Le Grand Voyage is on the list for the week.

Anurag isn’t God, he ain’t Godard either

I'm hooked to PFC after my Gulaal post.
Further readings:
Gulaal
Mosāfer
Living In Oblivion
Cinema Paradiso
Le Grand Voyage

What happened to the boy?

2009-03-21T00:17:00.000-07:00

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.
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.

Essential Ritwik Ghatak

2009-03-28T00:05:00.000-07:00

Nature of artist and purpose of his art

"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

From Ritwik Ghatak, by Megan Carrigy (Senses of Cinema)

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.

— Notes on Rows and Rows of Fences

Read excerpts from the book: Wind from the East

Recommended:

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?

— Ghatak’s interview in translation by Dipanjan Chattopadhyay

Download link (docx) here: Ghatak with Prabir Sen

Her nose, appreciation and the auteur

2009-04-03T19:26:00.000-07:00

April 12: this is my last update.

Good bye.

Notes:
1. I started with my poem about her nose. Then, Angelene and Sridhar followed. I’m looking forward to a warm session devoted to poems about nose this week.
2. I’ve applied for a film appreciation course. (And I got selected.)
3. And, I’ve moved to The Auteur Age.

P.S. I’ll post the poems later. I'm going out of the cave.

April 18: Forget the nose.

May 20: Nose poems 2009

Chungking Express
It’s so easy for you to fool me.

An artist’s idea about home

2009-06-22T06:07:00.000-07:00

May 7, 2009/NEW DELHI

Kathmandu was back on front pages here this week. Unfortunately, good news doesn’t make big headlines in our profession. What surprises me the most is the attitude of our intelligentsia — they sound so optimistic all the time. Why do I only talk about such small things? Because with each big headline, our people are forced into believing that we are actually growing up as a nation. We are told to perceive each misstep as a giant leap in our non-functioning democracy. Perhaps, it takes distance to understand the meaning of change that our people pine for; changes that I notice here everyday that herald India’s arrival. When I raise my head to look into the direction of home, there is only disbelief: Are we really moving towards real democracy with each fatal blow to the tradition?

The leaked video of Prachanda disclosing details of the Maoist strategy to become the sovereign in the country didn’t shock me. We need no evidences to prove that the red rebels would stop at nothing until they install their dictator at the center. The virtual abortion of the slow-paced peace process is a reality check. The people’s war is also an excuse for the radicals to rule the poor. However, the indoctrinated Maoist cadres might feel it’s the only way of their livelihood and perhaps a better future. My only concern isn’t those misdirected youth, we must find out what the real strength of the guerrillas is if we want to save this nation. We must devoid them their greatest strength before they fracture our unity beyond repair.

QUESTION OF WILL

Is there any other way to stop the Maoists from consuming themselves and the country in their quest for power? There might be other difficult choices we can make as a nation. But as an individual there is very little we can do to fight the hopeless use of being. The relationship of an artist from this turbulent country with this torturous country to me cannot be an ordinary one. The more we think about the country the more we are bound to suffer. I have no idea if this is a common pang of today’s generation, or just my personal problem.

What does it mean to grow up in a country full of lies and longings? If only I could get rid of the crisis of national identity, I could tell you how it feels to be carefree. In my profession, there is no escape from the identity. After the first twenty years in Nepal, you’re a Nepali no matter if you want to be or not. Even if it disgusts you, you’re a Nepali. Even if it torments you, you’re one of these patient people. Contrary to what they say, as I have discovered recently, we do get tired of loving our country and start loathing it. Our personal pangs collectively form the popular consciousness. Do we realize how difficult it is to be Nepali today? It’s easy to be a writer, a reporter or a social entity. It’s easy to be anything but Nepali.

Is it true that we — the younger generation of the country — are running away from the problems of our country? Recently, during an intimate conversation with one of the Nepali Embassy officials here, I was confronted with this question. He said when he was in Japan as a government official, he was once invited to a popular flower festival. His heart cried when he saw beautiful blossoms on Paiyu (cherry) trees. He recalled those slow days when he would hopelessly walk under the cherry trees in the capital looking for a job during his early youth. They seldom bloomed for him in Kathmandu. His was a story of struggle and the following victory. He insisted it was possible to stay within the country and become somebody and do something.

LOST GENERATION

However, once you’re out of home, the umbilical cord is cut. There might be a way back home but you cannot be at home. The chaste idea of home is already lost. There is little you can do for home away from home. All my writings about the country have been a polemic. I’m afraid I have already become a mouthpiece. When I went last month to attend a meeting about political cinema, I found my experience was way too different than other cinephiles of my generation in India. We come from a background where we cannot be too direct or expressive about political issues. It has lost the effect. Many would disagree but to me this is the truth: We aren’t a free country. We have to find metaphors to express our angst in public.

All we are doing is trying to find a way to give a sense of normalcy to the people, aren’t we? As for now, I’m preparing for my next departure. A drifter — that’s what you become when you’re away from home. I’m going to Bombay after a month-long film appreciation course in Pune next month. Emotions aren't easy business. After the cinephile meeting, Sushmita Dasgupta, a film scholar, wrote in an article that we “come from political regimentation in which politics strictly defines art. Art, in Salik’s country need not seek the form, the form is already given to it. This makes art collapse into some kind of a folklore, which is not art.”

Right now, we are still a generation humming ‘Ek yuga ma ek din ek choti aauchha, ulathpulath uthalputhal herafera lyauchha.’ We don’t want to trade tragedies but our country doesn’t permit any celebration today. We must deal with what we have become in order to do justice with the idea of home. Or being homeless. Does it ever occur to anyone that we, as a nation, are living in constant delusion? Why not admit that we are a generation lost? Do we see we are in a quagmire? If we do, why are we still waiting for that one day to come? It might never come. We cannot afford to build a new Nepal at this price. We can only do folklores — and perhaps, find art in them.

Published on the national daily, Republica, on May 27, 2009.

Our Cinema

2009-07-26T07:33:00.000-07:00

Last week, I was at a bookstore in Mumbai. I was looking for some literature on cinema. I picked up Akira Kurosawa’s Something Like An Autobiography since I had not read the whole book. I had seen some of Kurosawa’s famous works while I was still in Kathmandu. The director had not only stunned me but also some my friends who were not very much into world cinema during those days.

At the bookstore, my friend enthusiastically came to me with a copy of Herzog on Herzog. I have been chattering a lot about Werner Herzog for the past few weeks. He didn’t know I was reading the same book and thought I wanted to buy it. I saw a number of the other copies of the book lying on the lower-most shelf. At first, I thought I knew why and almost believed that the book was a bestseller. Sadly, it wasn’t the case.

Atharva, who was with me, told me that a few months ago when he had come to the same bookstore, he had seen a number of other books of this popular series. Now they were all gone. Which meant people did not come to the bookstore for this German filmmaker. It was very difficult to get used to the Bombay film industry in the beginning and precisely for this reason I felt Herzog was the right mentor for me. But that’s not the crux of this writing.

There was another voluminous book that fascinated me because of its title – Asian Cinema. But the fascination quickly turned into a sad realization. Below the bold-faced title of the book, names of a number of Asian countries were mentioned. Except one – Nepal – which is always missing in any significant book about Asian cinema. “Does it hurt me? Does it embarrass me?” I asked Atharva (he is from Rajasthan but clearly understood what I meant). “Now you know where I draw my inspiration from?”

Herzog drew heavily from his heritage. He was very conscious of the fact that Germany was not a country known for its cinema: “After the war there were two jobs of reconstruction: the cities had to be rebuilt physically, but just as important was the necessity of rebuilding Germany’s legitimacy as a civilized nation once again. This is still a struggle. Half a century on and Germany is still not completely there. Even though I have not lived in Germany for some years, it is very clear that today it is not a country known for its cinema. I feel there is a profound lack of vision, courage and innovation in German cinema today.”

Do I even need to mention what most of us feel about Nepali cinema today? I have quoted Herzog because what he’s said is also equally relevant to us. When I met some students of Nepali origin at the Film and Television Institute in Pune, I could see they were pained about the very fact that there is no good work in our country today. When they were new at the film institute, they were subjected to a lot of discrimination and shame. It is obvious that this will surely come out in their work in one way or the other in the coming days.

While I was at the film school, I asked a friend to send me some copies of Shirish Ko Phool from Kathmandu. Years ago, when Nepal banda was very frequent, I remember taking my bicycle out one fine day to a Sajha bookstore near Ason. The book turned out to be so fascinating; I finished it really quickly and couldn’t stop wishing it was longer than it actually was. Ever since then, I have always wanted to film it and now that I had quit my day job, I couldn’t wait any more to adapt it for the screen. But when the book finally arrived at the film school, it was already time for me to return to the maximum city where dreams have different ways to come alive.

A friend, who is with Nagarik, reminded me that some Nepali director had been planning to do a film on the same novel. I had also heard the news about it many years ago. But it was all that we heard about that project. How can this stop me from attempting it on my own? How can it stop me from paying a tribute to my language?

Shirish Ko Phool cannot be like other films. It has to be socially, culturally and historically conscious and also very significant. It must be a tribute to the Nepali language. There is too much of a stake in this and no matter whosoever does it, we must do justice to Parijaat; We must do justice to her Sukambari.

Published in the national daily, Republica, on July 25, 2009.

Chasing Dreams

2010-03-14T05:32:00.000-07:00

Update: Struggling with comedy.

Other writings published on The Kathmandu Post:
http://issuu.com/salikshah

'I do not like fairytales to end.'

2010-04-03T00:59:00.000-07:00

Notes from the Shore

Timeline [City]>>

Chasing dreams

March 2008 [Kathmandu]>>
Quit Nepal

April 08 –May 2009 [New Delhi/Noida]>>

Happy 1.0 [Copyeditor, a major American newspaper]

May/June [Pune]>>

Student [Film and Television Institute (FTII)]

July–August [Bombay]>>

Inside Mumbai Terror Attack, National Geographic project

Sept–Oct [Bombay]>>

Assistant Director [Indian soaps ]

October [Butwal]>>

In Butwal to help make a ‘good’ feature film

November [Kathmandu]>>

Couldn’t find an actress for ‘my’ short film

December [Butwal]>>

Accident ends work on another short film
Pre-production begins on the full-length feature film

January 2010 [Kathmandu]>>

Quit Nepal

Feb [Bombay]>>

Back for good

March [Bombay]>>

Happy 2.0 [Webchutney, India's No.1 advertising agency]

‘I do not like fairytales to end.’

Fairytale

“Serang Ali,” said Zackary Reid,
“Do I look like Zackary Reid?”
“I must be going ashore
in new clothes of yours!
Am I comfortable in these boots?
I don’t even know how to shoot.”
Serang Ali was quick to add,
“Maloom Zikri, you’re such a lad!
’y’ be so nervous?
Serang Ali ’u kan trus’!
The fairytale now must begin —
Close ‘ur book before it ends!”

Salik Shah
April 2, 2010, Bombay

Istanbul

Istanbul, O dreamy dream of wayfarers!
What broods blood into men's thoughts?
Alone, I must carry the stench of distance;
Invite gently, it might be our only chance.

Salik Shah
Jan 5, 2010, Butwal

The City: A Dream Sequence

In my dreams I often go back to Beijing, but it has nothing to do with Beijing of today. It is a place that is heaven-sent just for me. Peace Lake and China Gate are now gone; also gone are the bricks in the bright sunlight, the cinder road along the hillside, and the wild jujube trees. And yet, I still move above them, looking down on all below and on days to come.

Gu Cheng (tr: Joseph R. Allen), Eulogy to the World

Cycle 98

It's been a few days since
my bicycle has vanished
Do you know where I might find it?

It's true that my cycle is small
its tires are bald
they have too little air
the colour is faded
the stand is broken
the kinetic light is faulty
the bell trills softly
the pedals move slowly
the chain is old
the handlebars are askew
the wheel is bent and
it has no carrier or lock

Yet no matter what
even if it's flawed and defective
even if it's shabby
no matter what, that cycle is mine
The weight of my body lies on its seat
The measure of my feet fills its pedals
The print of my hands marks its handlebars
My breath rests in each part of that cycle
I am there
That cycle is my life

(What kind of place is this
not unknown to me, my own village
where in the bright light of midday
a whole life can vanish?
Do you know where I might find it? )

It's been a few days since
my bicycle has vanished
Do you know where I might find it?

Bimal Nibha (tr. Manjushree Thapa)

तिमी को ?

2010-05-02T00:49:00.000-07:00

तिमी को ?

यहाँ हामीलाई आफ्नो अशक्यता नै प्रिय छ,
त्यसलाई छोप्ने अहङ्कार नै प्रिय छ !
त्यो उदाङग् पार्न खोज्ने तिमी को ?
यहाँ हामीलाई यो अलमल नै प्रिय छ,
यो धरमर नै प्रिय छ ;
तर, हामी त्यसोलाई त्यसो भन्न चाहँदैनौं;
त्यो भन्ने तिमी को ?
यहाँ श्रङ्खला ल्याउन खोज्ने तिमी को ?
हामीलाई हाम्रो हार नै प्रिय छ,
त्यसैलाई हामी जयमाला बनाउन चाहन्छौं,
"तिमी जितेका छैनौ, जित्ने त अर्कै छ" भन्ने तिमी को ?
हामीलाई हाम्रो आलस्य नै प्रिय छ,
दुर्गती नै प्रिय छ,
यो पसारो नै प्रिय छ,
उठाउन खोज्ने तिमी को ?
हामीलाई हाम्रो सुधार चाहिएको छैन,
क्रान्ति चाहिएको छैन,
उधारो गुण र क्रान्तिको भ्रान्ती
कसैले केहीबेरको लागि दिए हुन्थ्यो भन्ने हाम्रो जपाना छ,
"त्यसो नगर,आफैं योग्य बन" भन्ने तिमी को ?
आफ्नो अशक्यता, आफ्नो आलस्य, आफ्नो घीनसीन पोख्ने
हामीलाई एउटा पात्र चाहिएको छ,
हामी हाम्रो हितैषीलाई मारेर भए पनि
"हामी उसले भने जस्तो होइनौं" भनेर
आफ्नो वीरता साबित गर्न चाहन्छौं,
"त्यसो नगर" भन्ने तिमी को?

गोपाल प्रसाद रिमाल (२००७)

Baatuli : Film Poster Review

2010-05-02T11:48:00.000-07:00

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.

Butwal/January 10, 2010:

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

P.S. Half an hour later, a second poster cured me of my latest obsession with Baatuli’s attractive legs.

The fool-driven land

2010-05-30T06:38:00.001-07:00

ALL things can tempt me from this craft of verse:
One time it was a woman’s face, or worse—
The seeming needs of my fool-driven land...

— W.B. Yeats

The Greater Common Good

2010-06-05T14:56:00.000-07:00

You use caprice to fracture a people's faith in the ancient things - earth, forest, water, air. Once that's done, what do they have left? Only you. They will turn to you, because you're all they have. They will love you even while they despise you. They will trust you even though they know you well. They will vote for you even as squeeze the very breath from their bodies.

"To slow a beast, you break its limbs. To slow a nation, you break its people. You demonstrate your absolute command over their destiny. You make it clear that ultimately it falls to you to decide who lives, who dies, who prospers who doesn't. To exhibit your capability you show off all that you can do, and how easliy you can do it. How easily you could press a button and annihilate the earth. How you can start a war, or sue for peace. How you can snatch a river away from one and gift it to another. How you can green a desert, or fell a forest and plant one somewher else. You use caprice to fracture a people's faith in the ancient things - earth, forest, water, air. Once that's done, what do they have left? Only you. They will turn to you, because you're all they have. They will love you even while they despise you. They will trust you even though they know you well. They will vote for you even as squeeze the very breath from their bodies. They will drink what you give them to drink. They will breathe what you give them to breathe. They will live where you dump their belongings. They have to. What else can they do? There's no higher court of redress. You are their mother and their father. You are the judge and the jury. You are the World. You are God."

-Arundhati Roy, The Greater Common Good (1999)

Nepal

2010-06-05T04:26:00.000-07:00

A new pack of jackals replaces

the old. We are a nation of people without eyes, without ears…
without a future at all.

Excerpts from The Leopard (1963):

You are right in everything except when you say the Sicilians will want to improve. They'll never want to improve because they think themselves perfect. Their vanity is stronger than their wretchedness…

A few days before Garibaldi entered Palermo... some English naval officers asked me if they could go on the terrace of my house where they could see the ring of mountains around the city. They were enthusiastic about the view but confessed their amazement at the squalor and filth in the streets. I didn't explain, as I did with you, that the one derived from the other.

One of the officers asked: "What are Garibaldi's men coming to do here?"

I replied: "They're coming to teach us manners. But they won't succeed, because we're gods."

They laughed, but I don't think they understood.

Another:

“Even if you don't believe me, this state of affairs won't last. Our efficient, modern administration will change everything.”

This state of affairs ought not to last, but it always will. The human element, certainly; a century or two later, perhaps everything will be different, but it will be worse. We were the leopards, the lions. Those who replace us will be the jackals, the hyenas. And all of us, leopards, lions, jackals and sheep will continue to think we're the salt of the earth.

“I don't quite understand. What did you say?”

Nothing.

मर गया देश, अरे, जीवित रह गये तुम

2010-11-14T23:30:00.000-08:00

सतह से उठता आदमी, गजानन माधव 'मुक्तिबोध'

ओ मेरे आदर्शवादी मन,

ओ मेरे सिद्धान्तवादी मन,

अब तक क्या किया ?

जीवन क्या जिया !!

उदरम्भरि बन अनात्म बन गये,

भूतों की शादी में कनात से तन गये,

किसी व्यभिचारी के बन गये बिस्तर,

दु:खों के दाग़ों को तमग़े सा पहना,

अपने ही ख़यालों में दिन-रात रहना,

असंग बुद्धि व अकेले में सहना,

ज़िन्दगी निष्क्रिय बन गयी तलघर,

अब तक क्य किया,

जीवन क्या जिया!!

................

भावना के कर्तव्य त्याग दिये,

हॄदय के मन्तव्य मर डाले!

बुद्धि का भाल ही फोड़ दिया,

तर्कों के हाथ ही उखाड़ दिये,

जम गये, जाम हुए फंस गये,

अपने ही कीचड़ में धंस गये !!

विवेक बघार डाला स्वार्थों के तेल में,

आदर्श खा गये.

अब तक क्या किया,

जीवन क्या जिया !!

बहुत-बहुत ज़्यादा लिया,दिया बहुत-बहुत कम

मर गया देश, अरे, जीवित रह गये तुम !

Politics in Cinema: The Guerrilla Fighter

2010-11-17T21:27:00.000-08:00

There isn’t an immediate cure to indoctrination or ignorance. The only way out is to start questioning the status quo. If your questions are pertinent, and you’re obsessed with finding the truth, you must be also open minded to accept the forthcoming answers and strong enough to take a new path, if necessary.

"This quicksilver, un-pin-downable quality makes Mrinal Sen endearing. You can see it in his films too. Take the first of his city trilogy Interview (followed in turn by Calcutta 71 and Padatik). It was made around the same time as Satyajit Ray's Pratidwandi, and with the same theme of an unemployed young man, but there the similarity ends. While Ray's film follows a classic, subtle path of satire, Sen has stylistic devices ricocheting off the screen, not always making hits, but eager and robust. They question and castigate the socio-political system, unable to extricate itself from its feudal, regressive, post-colonial shackles. He demands reappraisals of individual and community.

In the film the young man fails to get the job, because along the way he is caught up willy-nilly in a street demonstration and loses the suit he had borrowed for the interview. How can he make an impression without it? Sen records gleefully that he even made his protagonist speak a line from Ray's film that had come to him through the grapevine, but modified to suit his purpose. Interestingly, Sen had the Pratidwandi debutant Dhritiman Chaterji play a young extremist in Padatik, committed to party ideals but disillusioned with the smug leaders. The overtly political film spewed debates and controversies for critiquing Left leadership.

The trilogy also testifies to the filmmaker's deep devotion to Calcutta (Kolkata). He had been dispatched to the metropolis at age 17 to study physics, from hometown Faridpur, now in Bangladesh, where he was born (1923) among seven brothers and five sisters. The city's milling crowds, its apathy and anonymity, instilled fear in the country lad, who underwent arrest and inquiry for suspected links with the underground movement. The terror was soon replaced by love. Although he never lost his feeling for rural, village life, and has made films on even marginalised tribal people facing unspeakable injustice as in Mrigaya and Oka Orie Katha (Telugu), Calcutta became Mrinal Sen's home."

Excerpts from World Within, World Without

Mrinal Sen: Padatik- The Guerrilla Fighter (Youtube)

Satyajit Ray: Pratidwadi- The Adversary (Youtube)

The Radia tapes: 'Tip of an iceberg'

2010-11-30T15:41:00.000-08:00

This wasn't Barkha’s first error of judgment, and it won't be her last. Open did the right thing by 'exposing' public faces of journalism.

Readings:
The Unfortunate Analogy: a post from Kathmandu Speaks from February 2009, also related to Barkha Dutt brand of journalism.

The Public Right to Know [The Hindu]
The spotlight is on media now [The Hindu]

Videos:

Karan Thapar: Radia tapes dent 'the fourth estate' (Part I, Part II)
NDTV: Barkha Dutt, other editors on Radia tapes controversy

Clarification: The furor is not about Barkha Dutt, the woman
or the person, but Barkha Dutt, the journalist.

The Human Condition Trilogy

2010-12-13T10:06:00.000-08:00

Kurosawa vs. Kobayashi:
The Futility of Exposition

After watching The Human Condition (1959-1961), 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 The Human Condition. 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 The Bad Sleep Well (1960) or Red Beard (1965) for instance, aren't they similar to The Human Condition in their themes minus the political exposition?

While I enjoyed the sword fight in Harakiri (1962) (it was otherwise a dull movie), I think Sadao Yamanaka's Humanity and Paper Balloons (1937) 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).

>>Further Reading: MUBI

Crazy Windmills: Signs of Life

2011-02-18T22:26:00.000-08:00

"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’

the Great War in Burma

2011-06-08T04:50:00.000-07:00

Year 2012

2012-01-19T02:33:00.000-08:00

Year 2012 is leading me back to my emotional atlas: Pinter and Beckett, Bergman and Welles, these are going to be my mainstay. #writing
— Salik Shah (@salik) January 19, 2012

Read my latest post here:
The Capra Hyperbole: One Man, One Film

Cable Journalism & The Hindu

2011-04-13T04:23:00.000-07:00

Cable reporting or cable journalism:
What is your news organisation doing?

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 (1, 2 & 3)

New Statesman Debate (Video): Report I & II