Yesterday I heard a small essay on the forest music. I had some constructive criticism to put in. That got me thinking. What would I have written?! Here it should be pointed out. I have never really been to a forest. I have always wanted to. But, I can always imagine. I can always dream...
Let me dream ....
I woke up when the first rays of sunlight touched the soft green leaves of the trees all around me. The birds and insects were already up. They were busily going about with their daily life. I heard the birds twittering as they flew out to maybe find food. It was a November morning. Just starting to get colder. The time of the year when you can smell the air getting cooler and the plants starting to look forward to all the flowers that are going to bloom. It always smells of anticipation during this time of the year in the tropics. I could see the red rays of the morning sun through the leaves of the trees forming strange patterns, crisscrossing on the ground. Beams of light coming through the foliage and when I stood under it, I felt like I was on a stage with the spotlights on. Did I tell you, when I was young I used to be mystified by the morning rays of the sun as it came through the window? I wanted to hold it in my hand. Later on, I learnt that what I saw was not the sun ray but the dust particles. But, in my mind today I could again see the shimmering bits of dust as the little bits of sun rays frolicking on me. And I saw butterflies. In myriad colours. And I saw birds.
As the day got older, the suns rays got more even. The whole forest was lighted up with an even but not too strong light. I could hear lots of forest sound. The screeching calls of the animals. The rustle on the leaves as they moved. Maybe I saw a monkey or two. Maybe I imagined seeing a few more animals of unknown origin. And all the while I looked out of my little balcony into the forest. Then came the noon time somnolence. It seemed to have captured the forest. The forest rested. And I heard the distant soft sound of water flowing through a narrow stream. I had seen the stream the other day. It was a tiny rivulet. Not very remarkable.
The noon day siesta was over. I was sitting on my balcony looking at the wee hours of twilight. There is something strange about this time. Maybe it is rightly called the witching hours. I always feel a little melancholy at this time. Maybe the forest felt it too. The birds were flying back. They were talking to each other about their day. Maybe sternly telling their little ones to behave as the little ones all too excited to see their parents were scrambling for attention and also food. It was the family reunion time. And then slowly the birds fell silently to sleep and the crickets took on the forest. It was getting increasingly dark. The shrubs looked like tiny monsters and the huge trees loomed over everything ominously. I felt a small shiver run down my spine. The fear of the unknown took over. The only things other than the indistinct outline of trees were the fireflies and maybe the eyes of animals looking up at me. Hungrily? Fiercely? All I could hear was the indistinct rustle of leaves as some animals or rodents moved on them and the monotonous drone of the crickets. Some times a stray animal call. I felt like in an island.
And then I looked up into the sky. I saw stars. Like I have never seen them before. I saw the whole milky way looking at me. It was the most intricate diamond necklace that man could imagine. It was the most beautiful thing that god had created! I felt tiny. I felt insignificant. And then I felt one with the stars. I felt like the universe. It was breathtaking. A stray droplet of tear coursed down my cheek as I payed homage to the star-studded sky.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Ballygunge Court, the movie
I finished watching the movie Ballygunge Court. It is a movie by Pinaki Chaudhari about the tragic lives of a few elderly couples in a Calcutta based multi-storeyed apartment complex called Ballygunge court.
Although the setting and circumstances look real enough, the movie can be at best called mediocre and weak. Assuming the Pinaki Chaudhari wanted to depict the plight of the modern senior citizen plight in Calcutta, I do not understand why he had to show it in such a negative light. Surely, the senior citizens deserve more dignity than this.
The movie starts with a middle-class elderly (?) house-wife being driven out of her home by her alcoholic husband being accidentally run-over by a car and the husband beating himself up while their son dumps the blame of her mothers death on his father and going abroad. Then we get acquainted with all the other couples in that complex. Sabyasyachi Chatterjee, the real cool dad. Soumitra Chatterjee who does not allow his son to move abroad and Mamata Shankar the understanding mother. Monoj Mitra, the lonely father who takes resort in gardening etc. And the oldest couple, the Hirani's who get murdered.
The movie has some good acting by Sabyasachi Chatterjee, Soumitra Chatterjee and Mamata Sankar and good music by Pt. Ajay Chakraborty.
But, other than that it is too slow and long drawn. And at times very self-contradictory. In the movie, Sabyasachi Chatterjee's daughter Begum goes away to Mumbai to join fashion designing school and with lot of guilt for that (shown in negative light) whereas the security guard of the building Rudy has left his cancer ailing mother in his village (shown in positive light) while it looks like the relative distance of Calcutta to the village is a couple of hours and that of Mumbai and Calcutta too is just a couple of hours by people who can afford to fly which surely Begum can.
Other such contradictory points are more evident. Like the fact that Soumitra and Mamata had been abroad busy earning money and fame while their son stayed in hostels but when they get old, it seems like suddenly all the equations get reversed and the son has to give up his life to stay and take care of his parents who by the way are neither senile nor incapacitated in any way. And even Soumitra is selfish enough to ask what his daughter-in-law would do in her parents' place for a week! That was ridiculous! Just because she is a good wife and good daughter-in-law and just because he is used to her being around does not mean that her own parents do not mean anything to her! I found it a bit harrowing that she had to ask permission to go to her place and really beg and cajole. And also the logic of the daughter-in-laws sister was infallible in a way that when she comes back home for holiday from UK she will spend all the time with her parents unlike her sister, the perfect wife and daughter-in-law who cannot take care of her parents that way. The fallible part of her logic according to me is that she thought she would be able to come back for 5-7 weeks. That kind of holiday is unthinkable.
What amazes me even more is that all the parents wanted to keep their sons and daughters back so that they could take care of their parents, but never came up with the term 'brain drain'. Never asked them to stay back because of their country. Because of what they owed to the country. And the question of how Soumitra's daughet-in-law almost never visited her parents came into the equation.
There were however strong points that the Hirani's kept trying to get through to their son and hit the unbudging wall of the answering machine. It was heartless of their son to leave behind two very old and helpless people behind without bothering to ask after them or take care of their well-being.
But, these well-made points are few and far between. Mostly it turns out to be a tale of selfishness of everybody, young and old and the general indignity of the senior citizens and the changing family structure in urban India. Of the age old Bengali emotional blackmail.
Although the setting and circumstances look real enough, the movie can be at best called mediocre and weak. Assuming the Pinaki Chaudhari wanted to depict the plight of the modern senior citizen plight in Calcutta, I do not understand why he had to show it in such a negative light. Surely, the senior citizens deserve more dignity than this.
The movie starts with a middle-class elderly (?) house-wife being driven out of her home by her alcoholic husband being accidentally run-over by a car and the husband beating himself up while their son dumps the blame of her mothers death on his father and going abroad. Then we get acquainted with all the other couples in that complex. Sabyasyachi Chatterjee, the real cool dad. Soumitra Chatterjee who does not allow his son to move abroad and Mamata Shankar the understanding mother. Monoj Mitra, the lonely father who takes resort in gardening etc. And the oldest couple, the Hirani's who get murdered.
The movie has some good acting by Sabyasachi Chatterjee, Soumitra Chatterjee and Mamata Sankar and good music by Pt. Ajay Chakraborty.
But, other than that it is too slow and long drawn. And at times very self-contradictory. In the movie, Sabyasachi Chatterjee's daughter Begum goes away to Mumbai to join fashion designing school and with lot of guilt for that (shown in negative light) whereas the security guard of the building Rudy has left his cancer ailing mother in his village (shown in positive light) while it looks like the relative distance of Calcutta to the village is a couple of hours and that of Mumbai and Calcutta too is just a couple of hours by people who can afford to fly which surely Begum can.
Other such contradictory points are more evident. Like the fact that Soumitra and Mamata had been abroad busy earning money and fame while their son stayed in hostels but when they get old, it seems like suddenly all the equations get reversed and the son has to give up his life to stay and take care of his parents who by the way are neither senile nor incapacitated in any way. And even Soumitra is selfish enough to ask what his daughter-in-law would do in her parents' place for a week! That was ridiculous! Just because she is a good wife and good daughter-in-law and just because he is used to her being around does not mean that her own parents do not mean anything to her! I found it a bit harrowing that she had to ask permission to go to her place and really beg and cajole. And also the logic of the daughter-in-laws sister was infallible in a way that when she comes back home for holiday from UK she will spend all the time with her parents unlike her sister, the perfect wife and daughter-in-law who cannot take care of her parents that way. The fallible part of her logic according to me is that she thought she would be able to come back for 5-7 weeks. That kind of holiday is unthinkable.
What amazes me even more is that all the parents wanted to keep their sons and daughters back so that they could take care of their parents, but never came up with the term 'brain drain'. Never asked them to stay back because of their country. Because of what they owed to the country. And the question of how Soumitra's daughet-in-law almost never visited her parents came into the equation.
There were however strong points that the Hirani's kept trying to get through to their son and hit the unbudging wall of the answering machine. It was heartless of their son to leave behind two very old and helpless people behind without bothering to ask after them or take care of their well-being.
But, these well-made points are few and far between. Mostly it turns out to be a tale of selfishness of everybody, young and old and the general indignity of the senior citizens and the changing family structure in urban India. Of the age old Bengali emotional blackmail.
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