Home...

The place I stay is home...not Delhi, Mumbai or any city around the world...the city I live in currently is the city which is a part of my consciousness and is home :)

Nights of Cabiria...

Can there be a movie more innocent then this? Can any actress act a part with so much honesty as Giulietta Masina playing Cabiria?

Words cannot do justice to describe the way Fellini and Masina have captured the soul of Cabiria in this master piece. The beautiful, innocent Cabiria…through all the façade that Cabiria presents in the movie, you get glimpses of her actual self, be it the pure enchantment with which she touches the face of a famous actor who picks her up from in front of a restaurant, or when she breaks down in front of Virgin Mary asking her to bestow her grace on her…or when she talks to an imaginary lover under a trance… or when she goes for confession to Father Giovani, even sometimes when she is with Oscar, the man she thinks loves her. Her childlike innocence radiates out of face and fills your heart.

Sometimes I wonder, could Masina ever be herself after being Cabiria. Of all his characters, Fellini once said, Cabiria was the only one he was still worried about.

Every time I watch this movie my heart weeps knowing what awaits Cabiria. But still I watch…just to see her get up after Oscar vanishes with her money…just to see her smile in the closing sequence. It’s as if God is smiling through her.

Friends...

I am not a group person...I can barely manage to interact in a group...I rather like to sit quitely and observe people...Its always a stretch for me to be extremely social...

But friends...thats completely different...I love my friends and believe in them...I always think they deserve the best and they are the best...and there are times when what they say\don't say hurts me a lot...but still for me thats always temporary...i always go back to being with them because I love them...but off late I have noticed thats its just me running after these relationships...it doesnt matter to them if I am a part of their lives or not...

So I have decided....to stop running...no matter how much it hurts...at the end of the day its "Free Will"...

My Song...

Lots of posts I want to write about - travels, my element, water, blogs and so on. But this one is dedicated to the song that is me...

"Moon River"

(music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Johnny Mercer, sung by the most beautiful Audrey Hepburn)

Moon River, wider than a mile,

I'm crossing you in style some day.

Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,

wherever you're going I'm going your way.

Two drifters off to see the world.

There's such a lot of world to see.

We're after the same rainbow's end--

waiting 'round the bend,

my huckleberry friend,

Moon River and me.

हिसाब...

एक पहर की बात है यह
या चार पहर, कुछ पता नहीं...
हिसाब कर रहा था वो मेरे सामने
जाने क्या लिखा था उसकी किताब में
उसकी कलम से नज़र हटती ही नहीं थी
आखिर बेताब होकर मैंने पूछ ही डाला...
क्या लिख रहे हैं जनाब
वो मुस्कराते हुए उंगलियाँ गिनने लगा
मैंने फिर कोशिश की...
मैं कुछ गिनती करूं
उसके चेहरे का ताब कुछ अलग ही था
वोह मुझे ऐसे देख रहा था
की मेरे दिल की गहराई पिघल कर उसकी हथेलियौं में समा गयी...
मैंने फिर से उसकी किताब में झाका तो,
उसने खुद ही अपनी किताब मुझे सौप दी
मैंने देखा...बड़ा अटपटा सा लगा...
अरे इस हिसाब में तो कुछ नफ़ा ही नहीं,
सिर्फ नुक्सान ही है मैंने पुछा,
मुझसे क्या पूछ रही है पगली...
मैंने कोई गलती नहीं की जोड़ने में...
तेरे ही दिल से पूछ...
उसी की ही तिशनगी का हिसाब है...

Ravana

I have often wondered about the story of Ramayana. What was the need for Ram to traverse the entire subcontinent to kill Ravana. Unlike Mahabarata which has everything grey between the black and white spectrum, I have always seen Ramayana as a black and white story which life never is, very unlike the other Hindu mythological stories and fables.

The recent Mani Ratnam movie Ravana led to a very interesting discussion with a dear friend and I got to hear a very interesting version of Ramayana.

According to this version, Ravana was told by an astrologer a daughter will be born to him and Mandodari and that daughter, if she stays in the royal palace, will bring about the downfall of Ravana. As a result of this, when a daughter was born to Mandodari, his favorite queen, she was declared still born and sent away where she was buried under ground.

This girl was found by the king Janak and adopted as his own child and she grew up to become Janaki or more popularly ‘Sita’. Through out life Ravan kept close tabs on Sita out of concern for her. Finally the girl married Ram and as luck would have it was exiled and was destined to spend strenuous life in the forest. Ravana could not bear the thought of his daughter living such a life and ignoring the prediction had her brought to the palace. Nobody including Mandodari and Sita knew the truth.

Ultimately Ram had to attack Lanka to get back Sita and as predicted the daughter led to the father’s downfall.

This version instantly resonated with me more then the version of Ramayan I have grown up hearing. No one is wrong yet no one is right. Ravana in his shame and fear of disappointing the wife he loved so much did not tell her the truth, yet he tried to do what was best for his offspring. Ram unaware of the relationship between Ravana and Sita had to get back his wife from clutches of the king. Sita who had no idea of her birth prayed for the downfall of the man who abducted her.

So is life. Everyone is right from where they stand and more often then not the root cause of all conflicts is half baked information and our egos that stop us from acknowledging the truth.

Books and Me...

Reading and books is essentially what I am and what my life is about. Everything else is secondary. What makes up my thoughts, where I find solace, what my dreams are made of are all in the books I have read.

But now I don’t read as much as I used to. The reason is not that I am busy or don’t have time or have better things to do. Its way more fundamental than that. Every book I read becomes in some way a part of me. I think about it. It forces me to reflect. It’s almost like a living organism that morphs my thoughts such that they take a new shape and structure. All this most of the time causes a lot of dissonance and angst. After all I am not living the life I would ideally live; it’s not even close to what best I can be.

So the pile of unread books is growing in my shelf day after day. These days I am terrified of picking up a new book. I who was as impulsive as one can be, not afraid of change, not afraid of doing what I want to do has turned into this terrified, cornered individual finding safe haven in old and experienced much like my reading.

Is this what they call growing up…