Main Vapas Aaunga - Bollywood's own Titanic

Punjabis are possibly the most emotional people on the planet. They cry at weddings, fight at funerals, drape entire interiors in marble and make over-the-top movies about love and loss. Which makes it all the more puzzling that Bollywood, practically a Punjabi family business at this point, has given us so few films about Partition. Some movies about partition (of India and Pakistan) that I can think of are - Train to Pakistan, Tamas and Earth. All three of these I would consider Indian-indies, not typical Bollywood fare. Seventy-nine years, fourteen million displaced, a million dead, and we're still barely scratching the surface of the terrible geo-political event that led to the creation of a new nation called Pakistan.

Bollywood in 2020s, is a mere shadow of what it used to be, at least in my eyes. But finally it comes out with Mein Vapas Aunga - a true Partition story. Better late than never. The premise hits you like a train, the kind that crossed the border in 1947 carrying things nobody wanted to talk about for decades.

A 90-something man, deep in dementia, remembers exactly one thing from his entire life: his first love, lost to Partition almost eight decades ago. Very Titanic-ish. That memory of his first love is what is left in his whole hard drive. Everything else is gone. Just her, stuck on loop in a dying brain. India's Titanic, but with more tragedy, zero Leonardo DiCaprio and plenty of Naseeruddin Shah and a dollop of Diljit Dosanjh.

Naseeruddin Shah is extraordinary here. The man is confined to a bed for practically the entire film, and yet you cannot look away. Shah, as the bed-ridden patriarch at the death's door, gives an almost perfect portrayal of someone fading away into dementia. It is one of the best performances I've watched in recent history by a Bollywood actor. Whoever wrote his dialogues deserves their own award night.

I am not a fan of Imtiaz Ali's films in general, but you have to give it to the man, he is all about showcasing the vulnerable sigma male in his movies. This time that man happens to be a 90+ year old. Diljit Dosanjh is a perfect fit for the NRI grandson. The casting wrinkle is Vedang Raina playing the young protagonist. At 24-26 he reads a little too rigid, too unbothered, while Sharvari playing opposite him carries more emotional weight in every scene they are together. She seems older, he seems elsewhere. That pairing and the wooden-acting of Vedang Raina is a minor complaint in an otherwise well-mounted film. Watch it. Then some of you may end up calling your parents or grandparents.

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Baramulla : A movie by Aditya Jambhale (Netflix)

Baramulla, what could a film about Baramulla possibly be about? Other than being another film about the decades-long disputed-territory status of Kashmir. But I was happily surprised, and in the best possible way.

Before diving into the movie, here's some backdrop: Baramulla is this town up in Jammu and Kashmir, India's northernmost state that's still a bit of a hot mess. Kashmir has been like an open wound ever since India's independence, when the Hindu king of this Muslim-majority region decided to throw his lot in with India. Both Pakistan and India have been picking at this wound ever since, and one of the most brutal chapters was the displacement of Kashmiri Pandits - that's the majority Hindu group in Kashmir, back in the late eighties and nineties. Not exactly feel-good material for your average weekend movie night. Baramulla, the movie, comes from director Aditya Suhas Jambhale and stars Manav Kaul and Basha Sumbli as a Muslim couple. The husband's a cop, deputy superintendent of police, freshly posted to Baramulla to investigate some politician's kidnapped kid. The director and both lead actors are all from the displaced Kashmiri Pandit diaspora which adds a layer of authenticity. The family moves into this gorgeous, rambling old house that screams traditional Kashmir architecture. And man, does this house work overtime in the atmosphere department. It's pretty in that old-fashioned way that makes you want to book a vacation there, right up until the creepy stuff starts happening.

Now, I'm not sure if this counts as a Bollywood film. Sure, it's in Hindi and features Manav Kaul, who's done his share of Bollywood gigs, but it feels like something else entirely. We're seeing this whole new parallel cinema thing happening - movies produced by Netflix, Amazon Prime, and their streaming cousins, using local crews and native languages but breaking free from the tired old Bollywood formulas which have not been hitting the mark lately. I'll admit, I was dragging my feet about watching this one. The producer, Aditya Dhar, made his directorial debut with Uri: The Surgical Strike, which wasn't exactly my cup of tea, so much so that I never even watched it. But then I caught wind of some chatter about Baramulla being supernatural horror, not just political drama. And you know what? Sometimes the best surprises come when you're least expecting them. What we get here is a quality film that somehow manages to mash up history, politics, horror, drama, and actual ghosts without turning into an emotional train wreck or an over-the-top melodrama. For an Indian film to pull that off without the usual histrionics is genuinely refreshing. Shot entirely in Kashmir, with top-notch acting, editing, production design, and direction across the board. Jambhale has crafted one of the most creative supernatural films to come out of India in recent memory, and here's why it works: it's anchored firmly in reality, history, and the real suffering of real people. The genius move here is making us experience the horror through the eyes of a Muslim family - the same religion as those who perpetrated the Kashmiri Pandit exodus - and forcing us to realize that regardless of religion, we all feel the same outrage when faced with atrocity, no matter who's dishing it out.

The sequences where history bleeds into present-day attacks where the veil thins between the dead and the living are masterfully interwoven, creating a storytelling and editing exercise that's both haunting and enlightening. A well-made film that doesn't preach but provokes thought. Perfect for lovers of history and supernatural storytelling who aren't afraid of confronting uncomfortable truths.

 

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Dev Anand & Guide (1965) - Hindi & English

Guide is a movie far ahead of its time - an ultra liberal redemptive take on a taboo subject. A dose of (reluctant) spiritualism and its hit songs may have sold the movie to the masses and made the Hindi version a phenomenal success at Bollywood box office. 

Dev Anand, Waheeda Rehman and a group of actors playing the role a film crew in Guide

What I appreciate are all the bold attempts it makes to address the conservative norms of sixties India, all packed smoothly and skillfully into a song-dance-melodrama bundle of a Bollywood movie.

I might be the minority here but I liked the English version of Guide better than the Hindi version of the legendary Bollywood movie. The English version of the Guide was written by the renowned author Pearl S. Buck and directed by Tad Danielewski. 

Both are two different movies, shot by two different directors, with almost the same set of actors, at the same locations, months apart. Guide might be the only Indian movie who had two birth fathers, a semi-identical twin movie!

Guide follows on the footsteps of Raju, a tourist guide in Udaipur, Rajasthan, India, played by the evergreen actor Dev Anand. We get to ride with Raju on his life's journey where he meets and falls in love with Rosie, a young girl, married to an aging archeologist who has no patience for her youthful spirit. The beautiful Waheeda Rehman essays the role of ebullient newly wed Rosie with stars in her eyes and her husband Marco is played by the multi-talented Kishore Sahu.

Dev Anand, Kishore Sahu & Waheeda Rehman in Guide (Hindi, 1965)

Guide is based on the famous Indian writer, R. K. Narayan's novel, The Guide. The Hindi version of the Guide was directed by Dev Anand's younger brother and successful director, Vijay Anand (Goldie.) The female characters in stories Dev Anand and his production house - Navketan Films had chosen to make movies of, including Rosie, are strong, lively, independent and modern in their outlook. 

Dev Anand during his best period of movie-making and acting between 1950 - 1980 was always on a quest to introduce new topics and broaden the views of typical Indian movie audience through his creations. He and the female leads often played morally ambiguous characters in his movies. Had they been in any other Hindi movie of the time they would have been harshly judged. No such negative scrutiny befell his movies. Adultery, long distance lovers falling out of love, black marketing, marijuana use by hippies were all explained with maturity and the right kind of conviction to get the buy-in from Indian audience who lapped up his movies and their chart-topping songs.

Dev Anand sitting on the ledge with Waheeda Rehman and Guru Dutt flanking him (Courtesy: Indian Express Archives)

Guide has the leading man (Raju played by Anand) and the leading lady engaging in an adulterous relationship. But they are also independent individuals on their own journeys who do not depend a lot on each other. This was a concept indigestible by Indian public of the sixties. But not only did Guide become a super hit movie, it is also one of a handful of movies that has secured a permanent place in a variety of top 10 list of Indian films from any era. 

Here is to Dev Anand - Indian film's liberal visionary and an evergreen style icon, who never lost his zest for life or creativity. His death came in the form of a cardiac arrest at the age of 88, two months after the release of his last film, Chargesheet in 2011, which he had both directed and produced! 

Dev Anand with his wife, actor Kalpana Kartik (Mona Singha) whom he married over a lunch break during a movie shoot

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Aavesham, an agender review

The first half of 2020s is the period of man-child movies in Malayalam. There is a profusion of young male directors in Malayalam these days, many of them are very talented. This is indeed a better situation than in the aughts (late 90s up to 2010), a period I consider the driest season for good movies in Malayalam cinema. The only problem we've now is while many of the creations directed by these young stallions are technically brilliant, my almost half a century old lenses notice the myopic and know-it-all worldview of the young first before I grudgingly appreciate the movie's technical finesse. I hope this stage will not last long for these talented filmmakers as they mature taking cue from the lessons they learn down their own life-paths.

The latest in the series of man child movies is Aavesham starring the versatile experimentalist Fahadh Faasil as the fun-loving man-child of a mafia don. Aavesham is one of the better man-child movies in the recent past, a trend I started noticing from Lijo Jose Pellissery's 2017 porcine classic overdosed on testosterone, Angamaly Diaries. Another more recent one of this 'genre', also from Lijo Jose Pellissery that I had the good fortune to watch was Churuli, my review here.

Aavesham starts at one of those numerous engineering college hostels that line the outskirts of Bangalore where three freshman are hazed by their seniors and want to take revenge.Their novel idea of revenge entails recruiting or finding a local don who could be their local support and protection. Enter the crowd-surfing, quirky and fabulous Mr. Ranga, a much emaciated Fafa (Fahadh Faasil), in an offbeat action role.

The three new kids were probably recruited from Instagram or through auditions and do well with the roles they are entrusted with. The transformations of their characters as the film progresses are captured well. The modern and endearing thug sidekick, Amban is also fleshed out well. Fafa brilliantly portrays Ranga, perfect to the last bit of Bangalore-Malayali accent.  Vinayak Sasikumar's lyrics and Sushin Shyam's music  is reminiscent of Tamil movie songs. Maybe that is the trend we've to live with in these days of pan-(S.)Indian movies. Directed by Jithu Madhavan, Aavesham is a decent entertainer worth a watch for its quirky performances and the interesting treatment of its 21st century cinematic don theme.

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Best Books: My 2023 list

This is one of those customary end of the year lists.  My 'book' reading habit is on life support so I thought it would be a short list I could easily convert into a quick post. I could put the blame of the slow demise of my book reading skills on aging, doom-scrolling internet forums where wisdom (debatable) is delivered through strangers' comments in 8.25 seconds or lesser, or my ADD. Or it could be because the same content delivered by books is now being delivered to the same dopamine centers of the brain the by streaming services?

All the books I read, I consider my best reading of the year. Otherwise I would not have made it to the end as there are more books I gave up in the first chapter or two than the total number of books I read this year.

Here are the four books I read this year and all of them are remarkable because they were able to keep my attention till the very last page. There is also a bonus book - a book you should not read, even if you maybe interested in trains like I am.

Deepti Naval's  A Country Called Childhood : A memoir

Deepti Naval is one of my favorite actors and intellectuals of Indian cinema. A Country Called Childhood is my kind of memoir - it is not about trauma or addiction or tragedy or conquering adversity. It is about the actor's childhood in northern India,  simple, and minimal yet resonant with images of the fifties and sixties India. This is how you should write about your childhood and this is how Indians writing in English should write in English.

Tony Joseph's  Early Indians : The Story of Our Ancestors and Where We Came From

I have written a review of Early Indians here  >> The journalist author Tony Joseph focuses on the group(s) that migrated out of Africa, in three different waves, at three different time periods and became the ancestors of all the people currently inhabiting the Indian sub-continent. It is an extremely interesting and easy to read book based on anthropological, archaeological findings till now and the explosion of DNA evidence and research papers published since 2015 based on these DNA findings. 

Balachandran Chullikkad's  Chidambara Smarana (Malayalam, memoir)

Balachandran Chullikkad's memoir Chidambara Smarana (pub. 01/2001) reads like a struggling young man's journal entries from 1980-90's India. The rest of my review here.

Andy Weir's  Project Hail Mary 

This is my first Andy Weir. Probably the last too.  I was impressed by The Martian, the movie and thought I should give Project Hail Mary a try before it became a movie. Project Hail Mary is based on a good (not novel) concept with a Marvel-esque hero who is a modest middle school science teacher, written to succeed. This unassuming superhero who wears his cape and underwear inside his spacesuit would have failed in real world without access to Youtube, Google Translate, Google Search, chatGPT and Wikipedia, but for the purposes of this book, all of these sites reside in his head.

The bonus book you should stay away from if you have a liking for Indian non fiction and a sweet spot for trains is The Great Indian Railways: A Cultural Biography by Arup K. Chatterjee.  The author seems to have been too wrapped up in his own 'brilliant' command of English, which was too pedantic, stiff and graceless that I had to give it up after a few pages. Here is Chatterjee starting a paragraph talking about something. It has to be about trains as the book is about them. I think this paragraph may even have something to do with train dining cars.                                                                        

"Second, it perpetuates the reification of labour. Accordingly labour forces of railroad history are meant to be usurped into a memory of personal aristocratic adventures. The motif of culinary details has a very subtle role in accentuating architecture, and those of architecture in establishing an enduring imperial monumentality."

What the heck was that?

This is the problem I have with many Indian writers who write in English. Their tone is pedantic and disconnected. Their prose is full of long winded sentences that lose their meaning on the way while the writers are busy showing off their mastery of Queen's English. They should all read Shashi Tharoor or Suketu Mehta or Deepti Naval. It could be their new year resolution.

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The White Tiger : A review

White Tiger, blue moon, albino alligator, purple carrot, double yolk egg - all these vagaries of nature catch our eye because they are rare. Aravind Adiga's novel The White Tiger bowled over the Booker prize judging panel in 2008. It was a rare page-turner, presenting a tight and perceptive portrayal of the emerging India of the early 2000s. Other than being mightily impressed just like the Booker panel I do not remember much about the story I had read 10+ years ago, that was till I watched Netflix's movie The White Tiger. 

I remembered that even while reading the book it had felt like it was gripping movie material for western audiences if it can be produced in English, the same language the book is written in. Just like Dickensian tales that never tire the audience even after repeat adaptations in different mediums, The White Tiger is like a modern day David Copperfield. It belongs to the same bildungsroman genre with the dark Victorian London substituted by the frenetic and murky 21st century New Delhi and northern India. A dog eat dog world where the poor has to overcome classism (and caste) to make something out of themselves.

And the most important reason why it has to be made in English and not in Hindi or any other regional Indian language is because poverty porn sells well to a western audience. [Parasite, has entered the chat.] It might even have a chance at being an Oscar contender in the regular category (and not in the best foreign film category.) If you think about other foreign films in the recent years that made it to the best picture category you shall see the light - Slumdog Millionaire, Roma, Parasite.

I can't say the poverty and the class/caste-divide The White Tiger depicts is not real. It it is not the India I am familiar with. I got lucky in the lottery of life. Salaam Bombay is real to people who live in the red light district of Mumbai, so is Netflix's recent home-brewed poverty porn classic - Hillbilly Elegy. But how many Americans I know and interact with everyday thinks that the U.S of A is as it is shown in Hillbilly Elegy? Zilch. Ordinary lives do not make interesting movies, we will leave it at that.

Adiga dedicated his book to his friend Ramin Bahrani whom he met during his student years at Columbia University. Bahrani has written the dialogs and directed The White Tiger as faithfully as he could, reproducing the narrative in his signature indie movie style. Bahrani, an Iranian-American director, born and brought up in the US somehow captures the simple and raw humanist docudrama vibes of Iranian cinema in all his films. He is well known for using raw natural talent, many with no previous acting experience as protagonists and placing them in a documentary-like story line (refer: Goodbye Solo) which is exactly what he does in The White Tiger too. It is helpful that Adiga's novel is indeed documentary-ish in its presentation - written as eight long emails from the protagonist, Balram Halwai to the Chinese premier at the time, Wen Jiabao. 

The cast is led by the newcomer Adarsh Gaurav as the protagonist and supported by the reliable and experienced Rajkummar Rao and Priyanka Chopra Jonas. 

Priyanka and Ava DuVernay are also two of the executive producers of the movie. Appreciate your choice ladies, it is a movie that needs to made. While the characters and the background scenery are specific to India, it is a satirical take on neoliberalism, the invisible global economic epidemic, which is normalizing greed and narcissism all over the world.

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Nine Hours To Rama : Movie Review

Nine Hours to Rama (1963) was the first foreign film banned in India. It was based on historian and Indophile Stanley Wolpert's novel of the same name and is a fictionalized account about the life of Nathuram Godse - the assassin of Mahatma Gandhi. It features a narrative capturing the final hours in the run-up to Gandhi's assassination on Jan 30, 1948, with a few biographical notes about Godse thrown in. This Anglo-American film was directed by Mark Robson who also directed films like Van Ryan's Express and Valley of the Dolls.

The book was banned by the Nehru administration upon its release in 1962 and subsequently the film was banned when it was released an year later. The reason for banning cited by the first Prime Minister of independent India - the liberal socialist Jawaharlal Nehru, was it supposedly portrayed Nathuram Godse in the wrong (better than he deserved) light and that it would have hurt the sentiments of certain sections of the population. That is a credible argument, although banning both the book, which clearly belonged to the fiction category and the movie based on it, was an overkill, especially for a progressive like Nehru. 

The real reason could have been that throughout the 2+ hours the camera was focused intensely on Godse and the Father of India, M.K.Gandhi was just a side character. Adding insult to the injury, for a movie based on an event that was a turning point in India's history, almost every consequential Indian character other than Gandhi was played by white actors.

Valerie Gearon and Horst Buchholz

Godse was played by German actor Horst Buchholz. Buccholz looks very Caucasian with his chiseled face, but can't say he didn't try his best to act his part. The women characters in the movie were also essayed by British/American actors. I appreciate the effort they had put into make them look Indian. The make-up (brown-face?) is excellent, the only thing that gives them away other than the language they speak - English, is their bone structure. The way these ladies carry off their acts in well draped saris and kurtas are some of the best sari-draping I have ever seen on western women. 

The character of Godse is shown as a beer-chugging, hot headed romantic chasing after women, which might have been the farthest from the real life Godse. So it is understandable the conservative Hindu RSS faction, to which Godse belonged, would definitely be incensed by this fictional Godse. Nathuram Godse, the real assassin, was a celibate, religious right wing activist and teetotaler. Here's Godse's letter on - "Why I Killed Gandhi"

J.S. Casshyap as Gandhi, with Robert Morley in white cap

Gandhi in this movie is the best Gandhi I have ever seen on silver screen. The most famous Gandhi on screen, Ben Kingsley's Oscar winning portrayal of the man in 1982 Attenborough film - Gandhi , looked a little too able-bodied, younger and muscular compared to how the real sixty, seventy year old person would have looked. Jamuna Swaroop Kashyap who portrayed Gandhi in Nine Hours To Rama, credited as J. S. Casshyap in the movie, was an excellent choice. He looked and delivered like the real life Mahatma Gandhi. Although one of the reasons Indian PM Jawaharlal Nehru cited on banning the film was that the person who played Mahatma in the film lacked dignity. For about 5 minutes of screen time in the entire movie and a handful of dialogues, I would say,  J.S.Casshyap did an amazing job, delivering the first believable Gandhi I have ever come across on screen. His claim to fame in Bollywood though was as a lyricist, from mid 1930s to 1950s. An English professor turned Hindi lyricist, he wrote the songs for Achhut Kanya (1936), one of the early super hit movies of Bollywood that had established the career of actor Ashok Kumar.

This is the first movie I have ever watched, based in India, much of it shot in location in India but the entire main cast of Indians were played by westerners. Delhi police chief Gopal Das was brought to life by an amazing Jose Ferrer (Cyrano de Bergerac, The Caine Mutiny, Moulin Rouge) Other actors like Valerie Gearon, Robert Morley, Harry Andrews (the Sikh general in the pic, alongside Jose Ferrer) and Diane Baker essayed other Indian characters. It was fascinating to see 50s-early 60s towns and villages of India in color, as there were a lot of outdoor locations in the movie. The only other non-Indian movie which I have watched that showed India of that time period in color is Jean Renoir's The River. A juicy bit of trivia about this movie is among all the inconsequential characters played by Indians or people of Indian descent there was a man named Basdeo Pandey who played a bit part of a laundry man, he went on to become the Prime Minister of Trinidad and Tobago (1995-2001.)

Nine Hours to Rama intriguing movie for a student of history or someone interested in India, Gandhi or Indian independence. The movie opens with the disclaimer that it is historical fiction, but its fidelity in the depiction of India (despite non-Indian actors in all major roles) and the socio-political climate of the times is remarkable.

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The Tale of Four Pegs & Other Poems : A poetry review

The Tale of Four Pegs & Other Poems is the debut poetry compilation from Anand Haridas, a journalist turned writer based in Kochi, India. The poet is a friend of a friend. Two degrees of separation, not distant enough to divert incoming friendly fire after a scathing review that I had in mind.

The book is available on Amazon. You can buy it here and I won't get any commission from the sales.

I do not have any idea how to do a poetry book review. I ended up going through each poem and composing my own new poem stringing together my take on each - few words or a line per poem. It seemed to be the only way to do justice to a versified creation. Although if you have not read the book the review below would not make any sense to you.

Here goes,

We get a peek into your think pad, it is honest and clear, though at certain places

metaphors are muddled or similes reckless, you could have taken out the traces

of construction equipment – conjunctions, explanations crowd your unpretentious core

diluting the profound and the mindful down to just another garden-variety heart-sore.

We partake in your pegs¹, the fourth as you had predicted shows a sapient promise

traveling from you to you, we stop at the traffic light caught in the night rain’s fuss²

run over by a wagon train of your thoughts, in a deluge of imagery laden droplets

a few-thousands-more-than-needed hoofed histories, albeit all well framed surrogates.

You give us a lift on your bike,³ your glasses accidentally misplaced,⁶ no worries, forgettable

is the scenery if not for the mongrel and the shawl wrapped figure.³ The bonsai is noble⁴ 

for a tree stunted, lonely and lost, finding its way through the symbolism of your words

nonetheless we lose our bearings on a bridge to nowhere⁵ where a fog of memories girds

your night. Fatigued we take the last flight on the wings of your migratory books,⁷ the ride

up, unexpectedly unusual,⁹ wormholes into Che’s OBE hovering over your death side⁹

where surreal verses sideswipe with singular views,³ you’re reborn in a tearful glass of wine¹⁰

we meet your muse and the sailor’s mermaid at the ship wrecking yard,¹¹ as if by design

the sailor is at sea (still) stateless¹¹, short on memories the forgetful lighthouse beacon

beams a glassy-eyed calm,¹¹ unsure whether we can handle another reincarnation season

we get shimmered in your monsoon pale, sunny raindrops pelt glitter - dramatic¹²

not so the scantily scaffolded summer splintering flecks of winter,¹² they’re radio static.

Smoke rings taunting death pass us by incognito,¹³ on their way to meet your demons¹⁴

we recede silent to make room for your vapory journey, yellow meteorites even wee ones¹⁵

can’t beguile us back, we team up to enumerate the foliage, with your pied piper traveler,¹⁶

to be preserved for after, much after the ambulances are done collecting fare from the maker¹⁷

on the home stretch, the gutted nest is mournfully moving,¹⁸ the blue god’s ominous dance

paints anticipation,¹⁹ broken reeds and spoken Nos²⁰ leave us without any redeemable chance

at a befuddled bank where grounded boats wait for ferries²¹ to take them to light (for real?)

let the unease gush, wounds scale healing word wines, do a twice-over, heart the unheal.

Notes:

• the part of the poems I liked are italicized; 
• reference to the poems are denoted by numbers,^superscript their order as in the table of content;

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Swades: Movie Review

After long Bollywood makes a commercial movie that is up to the current standards of world cinema - thank you Ashutosh Gawarikar! A Hindi movie cannot do without its quintessential songs and melodrama - that is what makes it a Bollywood movie. It is an artform by itself, but how can you make it a competitive film appealing to world audience, Swades is the answer. 

 Even ShahRukh Khan, the immutable stammering, stuttering, lover boy of Indian cinema has broken free of his stereotypical role and played the role of a confused young scientist with passion. A.R.Rahman's songs are mind blowing - hats off to the maestro. After almost sixty years of independence Indians finally realize that they should have something else to show off other than the oft repeated 'great heritage and history'. 

Swades asks the much unsavory question to the current Indian junta - "what do you have to boast about your present?" Inspired by the true story of two young engineers who brought electricity to a village in Maharashtra, Swades is a tightly knit film which gets as close as it can to the real life in Bollywood terms.

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