Censorship or bossy fanaticism !!

Whether it’s the death threat to Bhansali for “Padmavati” or to Stanley Kubrick for “clockwork orange ” is insigficant, because everytime a filmmaker is threatened or a movie is banned and creative liberties curbed we prove our immaturity and inability as a race to accept a difference of opinion. Not just movies, we cannot keep any creation off the limits of censorship. In fact, the go-to book of dreams, Alice in wonderland was banned for several years after publication, because it allegedly promoted drug-use !! 

     From poems to plays, everything reaches the mass only after passing the tests of the all-affirming glasses of the old and the wise carrying on their arms the Paramount responsibility of deciding what’s right for the citizens.

       We ban commercial movies for not being historically sound and ban historical movies (take Duck soup for example ) for being controversial… Are we really insane enough to not be able to differentiate between historical films or biopics and commercial day-to-day films that are simply inspired from certain aspects of historical incidents!?? 

      If the sentiment of the mass population is so easily hurt, then why is Amish Tripathy not banned himself!! Aren’t the old and the wise ready to take on the best of his works as advertant manipulation of mythological stories yet? Or is filmmaking suddenly so different from storytelling !! Or does India indeed intend to not let artists tell their stories their way!?? 

     But, Let’s put all logic aside. Let’s say they are right ! Let’s say the death threats are entirely logical, let’s say if the movie’s released a huge section of people will be misguided, their sentiments will be hurt. But what about the thousands of other things that should be banned for the same reason then!!?

      What about the tons of advertisments promoting racism based on the oh-so-absurd claim that being fair gets you great jobs handsome boyfriends…it sure hurts the sentiments of many gifted young girls of dusky or dark complexion !!! What about the hate speeches against different religions ! What about the screwed up item songs demeaning and objectifying women to a devilish extent ! What about the worthless daily soaps still living in the goddamn medieval era !!?? 

      So… The answer is No!! Don’t ban any of this; because just as there are many people who accept and watch all this stuff because it suits their taste, their are many more who will watch “Padmavati” If it suits their likings!! Local realities can never decide what’s good for any country, let alone India! Because we accept it or not, we Indians live in a country as diverse as a Baskin Robbins chocolate almond ice cream! And in this era of #FOMO i am sure we moviebuffs won’t want to miss out on films like “Lipstick under my Burkha” and “Bandit queen” anymore because of some know-it-all master manipulators who use the mass population to recognise their political and social vendetta!! 

Cinema is the most beautiful fraud in the world…  – Jean-Luc Godard


Wondrous petrichor and lost souls… 

      I think we are all essentially lost… !! Maybe that’s the reason getting lost physically transcends our minds through a spiritual  pleasure making us one with ourselves and we end up making movies about finding oneself – the silly humankind !!! *Sighs* 

    But tell me one thing, have you ever really got lost? Without a phone or a passport, without the slightest idea of what’s gonna come next?! It mostly happens when we are children… Clueless, helpless to some extent but mostly , carefree!! And only those people who were really lost once can comprehend the true beauty of getting lost… 

     The absurdly beautiful smell of the earth after the season’s first rain, the smell of old books, the scent of creamy coffee or peaceful conversations of midnight texts, they all tell a story of the changing times, our diaries try to bring us back but we turn it’s pages to lose ourselves with the pacing pollution of our lonely minds… But inside this catastrophe of racing hearts and forgotten memories , when we get lost , we tend to realise the true potential of the world to make us feel at home.

     The fear, that creepy air of ghostly freedom and the bitter sweet mixture of unburdened autonomy and Stark terror that surrounds the moments of the disoriented  misadventures can last for hours , or just moments, but what matters is the realisation of that unfathomable experience! 

     Then, just when the fears set in, we find ourselves found by the world! But The sheer joy of being found gets somehow hidden behind the dearth of that liberty the disorientation gave us! It’s weird and even selfish according to some people…  And yet, significantly true for almost all of us..  which brings me back to my previous point – we are all essentially lost!! 

       Not just ourselves , we lose everything we once held dear as we grow up… With time we lose our individuality , our identity , our mental spaces and end up being a mass – just a mass of people , a group of lost souls! Why else are nomads , the happily adrift people of the era,  always potrayed as the most insightful beings!??

         On sudden wintry nights after long meetings and tired cups of chocolate milkshakes , maybe we grasp a frozen corner of our souls while tuning in to some classic song of a bygone era …. Or maybe , that surprising meeting with a 10 year old ex and a subsequent quiet stroll through the silent streets of a sleeping city gives us a glance at our lost self…       but going through the day , chasing the marcedes , the weeklong trip to Beijing and in between potlucks and drum beats , we are all lost, lost not physically so the we may find ourselves in the wilderness of life, but lost deep down inside our cold wild hearts that beat everytime with an untamed wish to be free, and we lock it up fiercely with our excuses of duty and necessities , only to lose the key ourselves…

     But there will always be those moments of truth and purity that give us our uninhibited chances to snatch the key and unlock our souls , set them free , wild and a tad bit wacky, before life makes us lose the key again, binding our heels till some random visits by the unknown corners of twisted paths of life can trick us again, into getting lost – the secret key to the personalized haven of our silhouetted identity…

( Hey guys, I didn’t post anything for quite a long time… Really missed you peeps 🙂 but I was busy as a bee .. umm.. actually I still am… So yeah, here I am, hopefully back! And hope you like this post… 😉 )

” If we don’t know where life is taking us, we are never lost …. ” – Paulo Coelho

Wordplay Saturday ( week 7 )

     It’s the seventh week of wordplay and I have decided to go for an uncommon word from a pretty popular language, German :-

 Lebensmüde : It is the feeling of being tired of life. It is used to refer to people who are suicidal and have given up all hope in life. But it is also used for people who have done something out of character as a way to ‘spice up’ their dull, boring lives!!

     It loosely translates to “world weary” or simply “depressed” although there are minute differences between the words! 

     So here’s to the hope that none of you are Lebensmüde and are spending an overwhelming happy weekend 🙂 !! Till next week, Tata… 😊

Glimpses in the rain…


       For the past few months, rains really annoyed me! Not just because it messed up my shoes while trying to dodge the mud puddles or because it takes double the time to dry my hair in the season, but because it made me sad. And weirdly so… It would creep in, out of nowhere, just as the sun creeped into the darkness behind the black clouds and it started to drizzle. Even in the morning, when people usually don’t mind rain, I felt dampened and depressed as I heard the tattle tat of the raindrops falling. 

     Even I wondered why my mind took me to all the sad memories and misshapen introspections on life when it rained, especially because I remember how much I used to love rain.. !!! The paper boats, the smell of the earth at the first rainfall of the season, even the dirty clogged water forming a puddle in front of the gate was good enough for me to stand at the balcony for hours, listening to music… I couldn’t very well figure out this recent change! 

     Then suddenly a few days back a drizzle started on my way back home. I opened my umbrella ready to get half drenched anyway when my mind took me to one such day in school. I remembered not using my umbrella even though I had it in my bag because I wanted to get drenched, and couldn’t help laughing at the madness of childhood! Then, I got on the bus and sat in my usual window seat. Soon, the drizzle turned into a heavy downpour. It was dusk and the orangish Golden sun just crept behind the clouds. It looked mesmerizingly wonderful… The dark black clouds suddenly covered the light blue dusky sky entirely, and the rain struck the earth in all its fierceness… As I was traveling along the city, I saw the makeshift shops close down, and soon people cleared out from the streets. I felt that passionate madness for the rain I seemed to have known ages ago, I was half soaked from the water coming in through the window and a little later, I peeped outside so that the rain struck my face and I giggled with childish joy.. although the rain lasted for only half an hour, I could truly see the dust-covered trees and roofs get the fresh glow, the leaves wear that light green look of novelty and the world seemed so much better. I read so many poets where the poet metaphorically uses rain as the power that can wash everything away, but that day rain literally washed my senses away, took me to a wonderful land of eternal peace; even if just for a few minutes and that’s when I could say “I don’t have a care in the world!! “….

     When I came back home, the rain subsided, and I settled down with a book, hot coffee in my other hand and looked out the window, the subtle gleam on the edges of the leaves reminded me of how transient our lives are, how transient our beliefs are, how wonderfully they change with experiences and I didn’t find growing older a punishment anymore, i still knew that being young and wild was fun, but I just found out that old people can be wackier if they want to, because​ no matter what, the child within us will always live on, we just have to know when to let it out…

Wordplay Saturday ( week 6 )

   The sixth week of wordplay and I am back with another interesting word. I am going with the same language I chose last week, Japanese and here’s the word :- 

 Yoisho :  Interestingly it does not have a definite meaning. In fact, it is entirely a word used for speaking , not even mentioned in the Dictionaries. Normally, you say yoisho when doing something tedious like pulling a rope or lifting a heavy box, as if to cheer yourself. It can also be said after completing the job out of excitement at the accomplishment !! 🙂

     Alternatively, it’s what the Japanese say when they flop onto their seat (mainly used for chairs ) after a long, tiresome day. It’s the equivalent of a long exhale or a loud grunt. 

Of course, it does not have an english equivalent since the word does not even have a single meaning… It is used for a lot of situations simultaneously!! So, next time you are tired and hung over after the day’s work and you simply collapse on your seat when you get back home, don’t forget to mouth a sweet “yoisho” !! 😉

Will be back with another word next week, so long.. bye !! 

Wordplay Saturday (week 5)

   The fifth week of wordplay is here, and I am up for a pretty eloquent word today. It’s Japanese and describes one of nature’s truest gifts… 

KOMOREBI – This one’s a beautiful word and it’s literally untranslatable. Komorebi refers to the sunshine filtering through the trees in the woods. This is one of the most profound words I have come across till today. 

      When you breathe in the pure Serene air in the forest and see that pearly dazzle peeping through the trees, you don’t know what to call it, do you? Well, that’s why the Japanese came up with this word. Even the shadows on the ground made by the long trees are associated with this word. But this poetic word truly refers to the effect of the sunlight streaming through the leaves of the trees. The closest translation is the English phrase : dappled sunlight…

Check out the first post of the series here, or else, wait till the next week for another great word !! 🙂 

An anonymous letter

      There comes a time in everybody’s life when they want nothing but that one wish to be fulfilled. Their entire existence incessantly pleads for that one fulfillment to some omnipotent power. In my life, that wish was to get rid of you. I despised your existence but you seemed to be seamlessly flowing through my life following me like a shadow. 

       At times when you unknowingly creeped me out, I sat in one corner of the room and braced myself only to remind me that you were going to leave, soon… I somehow knew you had to..

       When people called me by your name, when elders asked us to go to the other room, when you scared me off pitch dark rooms , when I wasn’t allowed to go out alone, I cursed you under my breath… All those times I wished to push you off so far away, that I would forget you even existed. There were a few times when I was friendly with you too, but those were just bursts of monsoon in the scorching heat of summer, too rare to find. But you stayed, carefree as you were, you tried to teach me whatever you could before it was time to part ways…

      Then.. one sudden morning, when I got up from my bed and found you gone, I was the happiest girl on the planet! I thought I was finally free, never for once feeling your absence.. 

     Days passed, I realised you are never going to be back again, even if I wanted you to… But I remained happy.. until, I wasn’t anymore…

     Soon, I wished to cling to you at times of grief like i used to before… I craved for your carelessness when I lost all meaning in life.. I still hated you for all that trouble I got into once, but I fathomed you were indispensable in my life… But by the time I realised this, you were long gone… I remember my aunt telling me once, that once I drive you out, you will never come back… Nevertheless, I still try to follow your ways now, smile the way you did, run like I am taking off to another planet, feel the morning air and giggle like you, but I really miss flying though – it was something only you could do, and I didn’t wait long enough for you to teach me that…

     When I sit in dark rooms alone now, I sometimes feel like you are calling to me, asking me how it is to not be afraid of the dark.. I want to tell you that I still am afraid , but I cannot get myself out of the darkness anymore because you aren’t there to help me, but I end up whispering under my breath, asking you to leave… 

      I remember so many things nowadays, things we used to do together, things I never paid attention to because I was too busy disliking you… But you did your part… Remember the swing, the clouds seemed so close when you whooshed me into the air!! Remember the muddy puddles we used to play with paperboats in?? Remember that time we got all drenched, together, and caught a cold?? Remember that time we jumped up together at the sight of the bright rainbow pasted beautifully against the sky?? Remember how bad I was in Ludo and penfights??…. I bet you remember it all…

      Just as I once prayed for you to go, I now implore you to come back, with all my existence.. But I know you were meant to go away… You were my childhood and you left when I grew up. Growing up made me finally fall in love with you, childhood. But I am stuck with my adult years for the rest of my life, and maybe if I had not been such a bad friend, you would have given me occasional visits on sudden afternoons and we could have gone kite flying together , a last chance to make it upto your easy laughter and carefree subtlety… Will you come?? 

“You may forget your childhood, but your childhood does not forget you… “

Wordplay Saturday (week 4) 

    So here we are, soaring into the fourth week of wordplay. Last week, I shared with you a French word. So, today I am going for a far less popular language but a very unusual word!! Its Persian and here’s the word :-

Kārvānsarāy – it refers to a roadside inn where travelers (caravanners) could rest and recover from the day’s journey. Here,  ‘Karvan’ means a group of traders, pilgrims, or other travelers, engaged in long distance travel, and ‘saray’ refers to a palace!!

         These people supported the flow of commerce, information, and people across the network of trade routes covering Asia, North Africa and southeast Europe ,especially along the Silk road. So, you know, it used to be a big deal back then! No wonder they had a word for that, but the best part is this word does have a direct English translation and this word caravansary is itself coined from this Person word.. that’s pretty interesting, eh??   

    Get the first post of this series right here and your suggestions are welcome as always !! 🙂 

In search of peace

​ “attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity !! “

      There is so often a time when the sky seems too dark, my eyes burn, the room looks dull and I get into the gloomiest of blues. Maybe in some parallel universe I would sit alone in a beach house on such days, sipping coffee from my favourite doodled mug and staring blankly outside the window. I would think about what a heap of mess my head is in, slowly that thought would lead me deep down my memory lane, where I could spend hours creating a picture of my childhood with all the bits and pieces. I would think about misanthropy and humanity and everything in between. And then, when I would take a stroll along the beach and feel the sand brushing against my feet, I would be happy. Nothing more than that, but just plain happy, to be where I am! 

     But here, in the utter mess we call life I don’t have the luxury to do that! I don’t have the luxury to be some place that makes me want to smile. We grow up learning we don’t get what we want and end up wanting what we can never get! In my crappy little bedroom looking onto the busy throughfare of the metropolitan, I could hardly make sense of anything! 

  And that is when I realised that life really will never make sense, just like this peice of writing. It’s meant to be this claptrap that has no beginning and no end. It’s a maze we are all stuck in. So on such days when the vision gets too blurry I just want someone to listen. Listen to all the gibberish my mind wants to blabber about, to the stories of all those dreams that never came true, all the times I let people down, all those days I felt inadequate, all those evenings I took a walk alone, all the books that taught me to live, all the songs that made me cry, all the scars that never healed and all the torn guitar strings that tell a tale… Someone who would truly feel my shrieks and my laughter and be there just for the sake of it…

     But on such days, when my mind wanders in search of that person I fathom how many people were searching for the exact same thing!? Aren’t you?! Right now while reading this did you not feel a longing for that person too!?  We are all so busy shouting that we desperately search for some silence, we are so busy speaking that we often forget to listen to our own selves, and end up exactly where I did!  

       So today, I resolved to find that listener within myself. I resolved to search for some peace within me that is so rare to come by in this chaotic world and maybe the day I am at piece with myself i’ll find the person, who knows how to whisper in a world that only shouts… 

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