Kuch Hai...

Kuch hai andar jo sulag raha hai

Kuch purana sa

Jo naye se ulajh raha hai

Ajeeb si bechaini hai

Sab kuch kar chuki taar taar

Fir bhi dhaar ab tak paini hai

Kya baaki hai

Khatam karne ke liye

Bas zinda hain hum ab

Har roz marne ke liye

Saanson ka aana

Saanson ka jaana

Fir chupa lena wo aansu

Karke naya bahana

Dard ke humdard

Ab ban gaye hain

Naye raaston par puraane

Manzar tham gaye hain

Bas bahut hua

Bahut hua

Ab chehron mein hum

Khushi nahi dekhenge

Kitni bhi zid pe utre dil

Pyaar ke aage mere sapne

Ghutne nahi tekenge

Shayad Mera Kuch Kho Gaya Hai...

Shayad mera kuch kho gaya hai
Ek sapna jaagta tha har raat
Ab na jaane kis neend mein so gaya hai

Kabhi socha na tha jo
Har roz ab usko jee rahe hain
Chehakti aawazon ke mele mein
Sannaton ki dhun ko pee rahe hain

Kehte nahin ek lafz bhi
Fir bhi baat wo bayaan hai
Haan, Haan mera kuch kho gaya hai

Yaadon ki ek slate hai
Jo kabhi saaf nahi hoti
Hanste-hanste beet jaate hain din
Par khushi se mulakaat nahi hoti

Jo bhi ho, zindagi ka andaaz to naya hai
Sach hai ki mera kuch kho gaya hai

Maa kehti hai sab achche ke liye hota hai
Daagon ke baawjood bhi
Chaand apni chamak kahan khota hai

Hona tha jo woh ho gaya hai
Kabhi na kabhi badlega mausam
Mil jayega mujhe woh jo kho gaya hai.

The poetry called Sachin!

I am neither a cricketing enthusiast nor an ardent fan of Mr. Sachin Tendulkar. I do not live upon breathing every bit of the man. I have never followed him like a shadow that doesn't desert him even in the darkest of his hours. I have not worshiped him like a deity. I have never kept count of the fours or the sixes that he struck, the centuries he minted and the records he made.

Despite of living in such despicable oblivion of a legend, I felt soul shaken when I saw him walking down the ground to stand as a part of Team India for the last time. Perhaps this is what Sachin truly stands for. He is love that happens without a reason. He is music that soothes you even when you have no knowledge of it. He is poetry that finds its meaning in your life all of a sudden. To understand what Sachin really represents is almost an impossible task. Will you adore him for being the passionate sportsman that he is or will you bow your heads in respect for the nobility and the unerring perfection that he has championed? In either of the cases, Sachin has been at the altar. Though there are hardly any incidences where I disliked or disapproved of Sachin's behavior but there are two particular instances that left a scar on my memories of Sachin.

The first incidence is related to Rahul Dravid. I was utterly disappointed at not seeing Sachin on his felicitation ceremony for Rahul Dravid is another man who might not have been the phenomenal cricketer that Sachin is, but has always been an inspirational sportsman by every tangible or intangible measure. I understand that every relationship goes through its own share of highs and lows but when it is about a person like Sachin, you just cant digest seeing him as an ordinary man who might have suffered a blow of human emotions that probably kept him from attending the ceremony. The second instance is of the time when Sachin accepted Rajya Sabha's membership. "Why did he do that? Wasn't he born and created to be on the cricket field, in whatsoever form, all his life? Isn't he the God who can never take an unjust decision?" were some questions that kept haunting my heart and my brain. Sachin embodies authenticity, dedication and commitment which is why I did not like seeing him in the synthetic role of a  Rajya Sabha member. A man who breathes cricket would never be able to do justice with a membership of that kind and for heaven's sake who wants to see Sachin as a man who is absent from his duties. Sachin and absenteeism are oxymorons.

There is also an endless list of beautiful moments that Sachin has gifted everyone of us with. Though it would be impossible to cherry pick the best out of them, but there is one vivid memory of Sachin where I saw him as a vulnerable human being. It was perhaps a show on NDTV that took Sachin to meet family members of the 26/11 martyrs. He met a woman whose husband had sacrificed his life in the 26/11 military operation. The woman hugged Sachin with brimming eyes and a choked throat. Later, when Sachin was interviewed by the reporter about his experience of meeting the people, he was petrified. He silently turned away his face from the camera and a stream of tears trickled down his cheeks. Sachin took over 5 minutes to gather himself and face the reporter.

These and many more stories of Sachin will keep inspiring and moving people. He is like an ocean whose depth cannot be estimated even if you dive into it an infinite number of times. Moreover, I think I've found the answer to a very important question. I can see Sachin losing as a batsman but I cannot see him losing as a human being!

 
          

Maa Ke Naam...

Raat ki aankhon mein jo neendon ki kami hai

Maa kuch aur nahin tujhse doori ki ghami hai

Ek bechain si subah ne bhi apna chaaadar failaya hai

Par maa ismein bhi kahan tere aanchal sa saaya hai

Har roz rasoi se ye jo dhuaan nikalta hai

Lagta hai teri khushboo choone ko tarasta hai

Diyon ki dagmagati law, mandir mein aarti ki jo aawazein jhoolti hain

Teri aankhon ki chamak,  teri aahaton ki dhun ko kahan bhoolti hain

Deewaron par lage har aaine ki shikayat hai

Teri aankhon mein apna aks dekhne ki aaj bhi unki chahat hai

Jab bhi aangan mein boondon ki jhadi lagti hai

Ehsaas hota hai ki teri payal ki rum jhum ko hi thagti hai

Suraj bhi teri god mein garmahat dhoondhta hai

Chaand bhi sone k liye teri loriyon ki aahat dhoondhta hai

Maa ye kaisi teri mehek hai

Kabhi mitti si saundhi to kabhi panchiyon ki chehak hai

Door hokar bhi maa tu hamesha paas hai

Jism ko rooh se jo jode wo ehsaas hai 

Talaash: The search that missed something.

Aamir Khan, the unerring perfectionist and a master of getting things right on 'his' Fridays. Needless to say, the audience are ready to fall for everything that is Aamirilicious (ofcourse Mangal Pandey was an outrageous exception). This movie was no exception. Talaash is Indian cinema's second step towards spawning substance thriller narratives. The first one of course was 'Kahaani'.

Written jointly by Reema Kagti and Zoya Akhtar, Talaash is a very intelligent blend of the logical with the supernatural. It is perhaps this clever juxtaposition of the paranormal with the real that did the trick for 'Talaash'. The story revolves around the life of Inspector Shekhawat (Aamir Khan) his wife Roshni (Rani Mukherjee) and a prostitute Rosy (Kareena Kapoor). Shekhawat, who is solving a mysterious high profile accident case is himself haunted by ghosts of his past. Inflicted with the guilt of failing to save his young son from drowning to death, Shekhawat struggles to protect his ailing marriage. He finds refuge in Rosy, a prostitute, who also aids him in solving the accident mystery.

Technically, the film scores high on grounds of cinematography (K.U. Mohanan), background scores (Ram Sampath) and direction (Reema Kagti) . Kareena's acting needs to be lauded the most, for she has finally managed to curtail the loudness that she is known for. Rani's excellent acting skills sat largely idle, as the script didn't offer her character any significant room of importance. Though the characters have been etched with utmost attention, the film suffers from an unwanted drag. The pace of the film has fallen victim to the songs that pass uneventfully and end up dwindling the thrill and the interest in the plot. The director does not give into the viewer's curiosity but the story journeys through several monotonous patches that end up damaging the mood of the story.

Compared to Kahaani, Talaash scores low. Following are the reasons why Kahaani should score high:

• The fact that Kahaani was filmed without using sets, rendered extra ordinary richness to the look and feel of its entire narrative. 
• Kahaani did not have a star cast as impressive as Talaash but each character was inevitable for its plot
• The pace at which Kahaani progressed was outstanding. The suspense ensued and in fact multiplied with every passing second.

Talaash is definitely marred by some flaws but overall it is a cleverly crafted fabric of suspense that will entertain you. If you are a cynic who always thought that Indian cinema could never produce intelligent thrillers then knock-knock.....winds of change have started blowing and of course the change is worth welcoming.

The noise called Introversion

I have vivid memories of my childhood when I used to shy away and bury my face into my mother's Saree upon seeing some strangely known uncles and aunties. My parents would pester me for uttering a courteous Namaste to welcome the guests. But my uncompromising self never relented to their repeated pleas. I chose to be the person I was. At that tender age I could hardly decipher anything about my behaviour. But as I grew up, it dawned upon me that I was inflicted with a phenomenon called Introversion.

Speaking in terms of psychology Introversion is a central dimension of human personality where the person tends to restrict himself into his own existence. Simply put, Introversion manifests itself in quiet, reserved and shy behaviour. Also, there exists a very fine line between shy and introvert personalities. Whereas shyness arises from the fear of facing people, introversion springs from an inclination to guard one's own space with a certain degree of stringency. Anyways, I'm not here to discuss the technicalities of the matter. Fortunately or unfortunately I always made friends who were extroverts to a fair degree. Consequently, I grew up with a sense of inferiority, for my friends were always the life of the party though my presence hardly got noticed. While people admired me for the calm and suttle creature that I was, they loved spending time with my extrovert counterparts.

Eventually, I started feeling handicapped, socially handicapped. I had to hunt for people who shared the same introvert traits as I did. The harder I tried to embrace the extroversion that was so coveted and valued, the greater the sense of self negation engulfed me. I consistently kept trying to broker a truce between the person I was and the person the society would vouch for. The society has always been blinded by its biases. One one hand, it claims to worship those who never compromise with their individuality and on the contrary,  it breeds circumstances that force you into doing so. I encountered the bias everywhere. From my school to every social institution that I became a part of. When I decided to join a course in Broadcast Journalism I was ridiculed by a good number of people. They mocked at me saying that a person who distances himself from petty social gatherings could never be a part of a community that was all about being loud mouthed. I denied to surrender to their criticism but I forgot that the place I was going to is no different from the society that we live in. People who spoke quantities were always preferred over people who spoke quality. 

Researches prove that introverts find refuge in creative engagements. Composers, writers, painters are more likely to be introverts. Perhaps, my love for writing can also be credited to my introversion. Some of the finest contributors of the human history were introverts. Steve Wozniak of Apple is an outstanding example. Even Mahatma Gandhi, the flag-bearer of the Indian freedom struggle saw himself as a part of that introversion spectrum.

I am not against extroversion. It is an equally important shade of the variegated, puzzling human personality. After all, life is all about balancing between the odds. But the sort of rejection that introverts are subjected to in our society, is deeply disturbing. They are forced into a relentless battle of distancing themselves from their essence. The societal skeleton rewards extroverts and outrightly ignores introverts. If an introvert could be subjected to such a degree of aloofness, imagine the humiliation that a physically challenged person may have endured in each and every moment of his life. Introversion is not a sick state of mind. It does not imply by any means a sense of self obsession. It is the power that reunites you with your spirit, binds you with your strengths, confronts you with your weaknesses and rewards you with meaningful introspection. Caring for the external is important but segregating the internal can be disastrous.       

Of  Barfi  and  Khichdi...
Indians are the maestros of "Jugaad". It runs in their veins much like blood. I had my first confrontation with this omnipotent Indian phenomena when I was in tenth standard and after that there was no parting ways with it. What does "Jugaad" actually signify? It is an innovatively twisted way to get things done that is illegally legal and foolishly intelligent. While scams and corruption scandals are the most noteworthy children of "Jugaad", hardly any sphere of life, particularly Indian life, has remained untouched by this phenomena. You must be wondering how does the title of this post relate to what I've been saying in the past few lines? Perhaps the following paragraphs might lend you a perspective.

Barfi, Anurag Basu's smartest brainwave, India's official entry to Oscars and one of the finest movies that has touched the Indian silver screens is  reportedly being claimed to have morphed scenes from classic Hollywood flicks. I saw the movie last week with my mother. Surprisingly, I found her sleeping during the movie. I was irate and jolted her out of her nap so that she does not miss the sheer mastery with which Anurag and the actors had brought to life the entire plot of the movie. The unhampered playfulness of a mute Barfi, an Autistic Jhilmil wrapped in innocence, the unabashedness of an affluent girl Shruti, all tossed with those witty intelligent gags,left me awestruck. Though my mother had a second opinion. She complained that the movie had an unappealing and monotonous plot except for the gags. She was correct. The movie without those smart gags would bore you to death. And we least of all, did not expect those gags to be aped versions of some classic Hollywood flicks.

Though Barfi received an overwhelming response the controversies questioning its originality come as a shocker to the average Indian viewer. Indian cinema has always been known more for its volumes and less for its quality. We are the largest film producing nation but when it comes to substance movies we hardly have a handful of movies to our credit. Given all the dynamics, Barfi was being lauded as a welcome change in the stereotypical organisation of our entertainment industry. It was anticipated as a movie true to its genius where the characters would speak volumes through their work rather than their glam avatars. Though the actors did full justice to their roles, the fact of the scenes being morphed does no good to their efforts.

Directors like Anurag Basu are the torch bearers of the new face of the Indian Cinema. They have an inherent responsibility of breaking the norms that have impeded the quality evolution of the Indian cinema. Indians have somehow been programmed to believe that anything of exceptional quality and worth cannot be Indian. Thats what I thought when I saw the movie "Is this movie really a brainchild of an Indian?" Though I instantly criticized myself for being such a cynic, reports of Barfi scenes being morphed have proved my cynical self true. The reluctance to parent something original and the notion of western superiority has paralyzed the creative acumen of our budding artists.

I am completely of the opinion that replication is a medium that circulates creativity. Creativity cannot survive without being replicated but it is also true that replication should also result in multiplication i.e. creativity must get multiplied when replicated. It is a two way process. When you replicate someone's work you also inherit a responsibility of returning something significant in the process. It is high time that India has been on the receiving end. Its time we start giving back. Its time we see Bollywood movies being remade in Hollywood and not the vice versa. I would have been a much happier viewer if the amount of "Jugaad" and time that was invested in creating a Khichdi of the scenes in Barfi was utilized to fabricate a story that could have been worth copying by the Hollywood .