Beauty & the Beast-Movie Review

We all knew about the age-old fairy tale. Yet, many of us cynical adults went to see it in the theatres.

Because ‘Beauty & the Beast’ is not just about the 3D glasses you get to wear. Or the colorful cinematography you get impressed with. And not even the lyrical songs the characters break into every now & then, giving you a yesteryear feeling of watching a musical ballet instead.

Beauty & the Beast is a story full of metaphors, whose ‘characters’ roam around the streets even today, in every nook and corner of this twenty-first century world.

So if you take your eyes and minds off your cellphones for a moment and look around yourself a bit more carefully, it won’t be long , before you find them. Yes, every single one of them, around you, at some point of time.

The young Belle, a strong intelligent single woman, whose happiness on just ‘getting educated through books’ confuses the society. She is laughed upon by the old, she is gossiped about by the young, but she is never forgotten, by any of them. Her independent status, the society cannot digest, and thus they are ready to ‘tame’ and ‘name’ her if necessary, for their ‘common benefits’. Sounds familiar? There’s more.

The very handsome, self-proclaimed ‘Hero’ of the society, Gaston, who wants to marry this headstrong Belle, not only because she also happens to be the most beautiful in the lot(of course!) but mostly because she appears ‘unachievable’. She is intelligent enough to avoid his types, but this trait of hers seems to him to be a downright insult to his manhood, on the very which the other local girls who are drooling over already. He is more the ‘local Bhai’ who feels that every girl of the ‘basti’ should be falling for his ‘good-looks’. He wants a girl because ‘he’ wants her. The girl, should just be grateful! The society agrees.
Well, how many girls in this world still get married to such ‘Gastons’, I really can’t tell you the count. But they are many, and this much i can tell, that the life they lead, could give birth to a hundred more 'fairy-tales' not necessarily with a happy ending.

Last but not at all the least, our very favorite, the Beast. The one with a twisted face and a loving heart. The one who learnt the lesson the hard way and waited for a rescue, through a love, which will see only his beautiful inside. Oh, so many of us identify with him, don't we.  We the average-looking types? The introverts, who do not show off their goodness around. The unselfish ones who do toil in the background and sacrifice the limelight. How many of then get their Belles I wonder. But of course our Beast surely gets lucky with the beautiful Belle.

Because sensible Belle falls in love with him too, because with him, she can finally ‘talk’. Because in contrast to the dominating Gaston, the beast gives her her freedom, the true mark of unconditional love. The Beast in love at last is not a beast anymore, and is actually a prince , in everyone's eyes. Because people who are good at heart, whatever their physicalities be, ultimately look beautiful, to one and all.

Beauty & the Beast is a actually a lesson to everyone who judge people by their looks. A warning to every girl that the macho hero of her dreams might not be the 'prince charming' after all. And a reminder to all the boys, who judge girls by their 'statistics' first. And to the society too, who still cringes their nose at dark-skinned girls and short-height boys.Who still make hullabaloo over the colors of skin, white,brown,black. The modern day 'beasts' are still on their look-outs for the very few Belles available. Good luck to them for their own little 'happily ever afters'!

Lion-The Movie review

What happens to your life when God pushes you back to the darkest corner of the wall?


What happens when you are lost, helpless, broken and don’t have any idea about when the situation will change, or even the faintest assurance that the things will at all change.


What happens when you know that the people you love the most, your family, is going through the same amount of pain as you, and you can do nothing about it, absolutely nothing. For twenty-five years.


Life then becomes an unending pain. A vacuum of existing in the present and living in the past. And ultimately an elongated search, for the real self within.

It is this desperateness, Lion, the movie, will pull you all into.


The story of Saroo Brierley.
A tale of immense human courage, of how a little boy faced unimaginable difficulties and survived through,with admirable poise and a mature calmness way beyond his years.


Little Sunny Pawar aka Saroo, rules your heart from Shot one. You smile,when he beams back love at his proud protective elder brother. You laugh at his little mischiefs,when he is able to behave like a child in the few truly happy moments of his life. You are then on the edges of your seat when he’s about to fall into traps, and you sigh with relief when he assures us, time and again, that he’s smart enough, to manage on his own,without anyone's help.Thank you very much.


Your heart goes out to him when he keeps searching for his brother and mother in a strange crowd. He matter-of-factly states to all that he needs to see his mother. But when he understands,that it is no more possible, he accepts, with an admirabe composure and moves on.Perhaps it was because of this attitude, that even God stopped testing the little boy and gave him what he deserved at last. Love.




It is difficult to hold the attention of the audience when the story is known to all. But the adept direction of Garth Davis hooks you from the word Go.

What is more amazing here that since we know that the characters are all true,somehow it is that realization which makes us go through a plethora of emotions.

We gasp with shock at the unexpectedness of how real people turn out to be, in this cruel, blood-sucking world. So much so that you start suspecting even that second glance from a stranger, be it a friendly man or a motherly woman. Because you know, that everybody out here is at a war of their own, struggling and fighting, to exist, and if lucky, rise above. Be it at the mine site breaking stones, or stealing coals and risking your life for a packet full of milk for your little brother. Be it a child trafficker selling her body and soul to a pimp or a policeman who supplies helpless children to powerful men. Everyone is fighting their invisible wars and hoping to win.


But the ultimate war here is the war within. Brilliant actors Dev Patel and Nicole Kidman portray the tussles inside of the adopted mother n child with such grandeur that I hear quite a many sniffs in the audience throughout the screening. Our favorite Deepti Naval, in a little cameo, shines in a silent moment of just expressions, when Saroo for the last time, asks for his mother.


The first half of the movie rests on the little shoulders of Sunny Pawar, who comes across as a real discovery.I sincerely wish to see more of him, not just as a child actor, but as a strong ‘character’. Because he certainly has, the ability.


The Cinematography by Greig Fraser is sheer painting. Right from the first dissolves, of the scenic Australia to the powdery plains of Khandwa, the deeply emotional story of Lion has a very passionate camera following it throughout. Thank God for that. A tumultuous train journey captured with brilliant use of camera and picture perfect frames using just natural light need special mentions.

Outstanding editing work by Alexandre de Franceschi, bring alive the childhood of Saroo when he finally meets his mother after twenty five years of separation. And as happens always in our real 'worldly' life, nothing did remain the same ,other than a mother's love and a few cherished memories.





Go and watch Lion, if you haven't already. You will learn a thing or two about the rules of life. The turmoils and tests we all must go through, to survive with our heads held high. The 'hearty' use of our intelligent minds, which is needed for all, to make quick decisions and escape pitfalls.And the grace we all must show, at all times, before accepting, that whatever happens, always does happen, for only the best.

Morning Memories

A tiny arrow of light 

shoots straight into my dark curtained room,

up to my bed, on my face .

The bathroom is lit. My Grandma is up.

Awake.Silent.Dazed. I lie there still and trace her movements.

Through the guarded sounds

and tell-tale smells.

A tinkle of bangles

A muffled whisper, of morning chanting

A wisp of watery fragrance

fills the air.

Her jasmine scented oil leaves a trail

as she hobbles back

to her room after the bath.

Click.

The opening of the door to the balcony.

A minute later, she glides back,

with a burning incense stick in her hand,

she enters the kitchen.

Sometime later, 

there'll be an aroma of sweetened milk tea in the whole house.

The radio will be switched on and the volume will be increased,

just a little careful bit.

Few seconds of pause

and then a cool moist palm

will be placed on my forehead.

I close my eyes, pull up my covers

and wait.

Unsaid

Adil and Ayesha 

had had an arranged marriage last week.

Now on their honeymoon in a hill station, 

they tried to fall in love. 

They spoke They confessed and They laughed about it all. 

However on their last night, 

Ayesha looked furious. 

"I gave you every chance Adil, to come clean.

I was ready to forgive, if only once you'd have stopped deceiving me. 

But you didn't."

Seeing his shocked face she explained,

'" Last winter, that night in Delhi, 

you were there with your friends 

trying to grab that poor beggar girl 

off the street. "

Adil's eyes had widened in bewilderment.

She continued,

"True, you had tried to stop them. 

But when they ignored, you didn't leave.

Instead, you chose to remain there and look. "

A pregnant pause.

No words came out of his mouth. 

A question, bulging in his throat, unable to come out.

How?!??!!

She spoke again,

"It was me driving the jeep that night Adil.

The jeep,

which kept coming back to you guys, 

until it chased all of you away. "

She had packed her bags already. 

Before leaving, Ayesha turned back one last time,

"The only question which keeps haunting me now is...

had I not been there that night, 

you too, 

would have devoured the girl, 

isn't it ? ".

Rangoon-Review

Wish characters could write their own ends. Wish the actors playing them could rescue them from this helplessness.
A fiery little ‘banjaaran’ is bought off a street performance by a visionary businessman. He then tames this ‘wildness’ into a feisty and fashionable Miss Julia. But for obvious reasons, he is unable to tame her heart, which is still lost in the wilderness it had come from.
Rangoon the movie, promises from the very beginning, to be made to appreciate Kangana, the ‘queen’. It is she, in a welcome change, who gets a royal ‘introduction’ into the story and she accepts it with aplomb.
Because here is a performance which overshadows everything, the other performances, the confusing storyline, the gigantic sets, the excellent cinematography and of course, the soulful music. Because, when Miss Julia enters, you look at only her and when she exits, you wait, only for her.
Cheers to both the male leads, a painfully restrained Shahid Kapoor and an equally, if not more controlled Saif Ali Khan, who gracefully accept the reign of the ‘queen’ over the entire film.  The brilliant actors that they are, they have shown bravery in accepting itself, the roles of characters who are nothing but providers of plot points to a scattered story to which the heroine acts and reacts. So it is a welcome change indeed to see the heroine ride into the den of enemies and save her prince charming, the heroine to make the first move in her own love story and the heroine again to playfully defeat an exceptional soldier in swording. If only the climax too could keep the queen’s flag flying high.
Good songs, poetic visuals and excellent dialogues. We only wish the script had focused on one story in completion instead of getting scattered into so many snippets of different ideologies.
Rangoon should be watched, for all these positives and of course, for the queen onscreen, Kangana Ranaut.

U & I

I had'nt seen you yet

But I spoke up

About you

To them

For you

They had'nt seen you too

But even they chose to speak

About you

To the doctor

Against 'us'

But then, as you see

We both lived

One day I'll tell you how...

Till then, it's this tiny you and this new me,

Two powerful women,

in their making...

Thirsty

Whenever I see you,

Directly,hurriedly 

sipping from those plastic bottles kept on the table?

I miss

those long relieved sighs, you used to let out

in those hot summer afternoons,

when you took time,

to sip from me instead,

your much-used, now-forgotten,

glass.

Nocturnal

When the bright and shining day boiled down to a deep darkened night,

Its remains were burnt, charred and way beyond recognition.

But it was clinging on, I saw, to my amazed chagrin, 

Stiffly, strongly, it held on, to the sticky sides of the non-stick pot I was boiling it in.

The pot of time... on the fire of life. 

I...her unending 'worries'...I...her 'nightmares'....I...'the summation of all her negative thoughts in the day'

was cooking up her heart, her mind, her very well being...

A war you want?

A war you'll get woman!

Undeterred, I lower the lively flame, pour some icy calm water and stir with all my might , to ‘linger on’ the matter cooking inside.

But it hisses back at me, this time with a bigger flame, and puts the pot itself on fire!

Hah!

Red and yellow, 

Orange and white, 

The fiery flickers leapt angrily at me
and my burning blistering body.

Scalding heat pierced through my veins 

and entered my wide open eyes
open with shock
open with rage
anger at being fought back!

A fire had broken, all around, me and the pot

A fire so bright that I shut my eyes


She had given a good fight

I had to give in

Weakened, crushed and defeated,
I awaited my death.

A hushed silence

Darkness....blackness all about

Long relaxed breathes....the sounds of victory

The woman has won...

The woman, has fallen asleep....

But die I have not

I...her the unending 'worries'...I...her 'nightmares'....I...'the summation of all her negative thoughts in the day'

Gnawing at the remains of her miseries, 

I have life left still

Slowly, silently, before I know, 

I again feel the change...

The skimpy, clingy, blackened night, 

had been changing 'colors'

and now

it has metamorphosed

as if by magic

 into a blindingly golden day.

Magic indeed, it is.

The magic of a willful wishful mind.

I crouch behind,
Behind the dazed mind

Beside a little lazy thought.

I am small and feeble
downsized by the fight of last night

But I wait ...
for fresh worries, unknown doubts, new negativities

to enter her system

once again

throughout this ever-potent day

Till I strike back afresh

To lighten the fire anew 

Later tonight and the next night and again the next

to put the pot right back on

And cook, and stir, and fry!

...All her insides...

Just another "Republic Day"?

My Dear Indians,


As you unfurl me today...I take a deep long breath…


Ahhh...it is 'freedom' at last !


After months of being tucked away folded in some dark corner of an old closet...I now stretch myself in grandeur… and breath in the fresh morning air greedily...


I sprinkle out flowers ...to celebrate, my happiness.


And then, I look down with a bright smile and see your upturned faces.


Faces of my visitors, the visitors to a ‘boring seventy year old '


But ‘faces’? Nah… they are kaleidoscopes of suppressed emotions…


'Annoyance',at being woken up on the usual time even on a holiday and having to come here ...


'Impatience', to go back to your respective homes for the second round of sleep or to go to that pre-planned morning movie show? Or maybe for that much awaited luncheon,


and 'Fear', of being criticized by someone present here, a few hours later, on social media, maybe for standing ‘not respectfully enough’


So you all stand there, stiff and straight, watching me waltz with the breeze as my favorite ‘song’ plays... my moment of glory indeed.


You patiently wait, for it to end, counting seconds, while checking out the lady in white standing in front.

The music ends. And so does your patience.

It's time...to ‘pack-up’ and get-going!


As the crowd disperses with an amazing swiftness, I make my heart understand, yet again, that maybe the next year is going to be different. When people will come out of patriotism and not out of forced-upon duty.


Throughout the day as I keep swaying to the chilly wind, I say my prayers for all of you...


That may our country be that Republic where the power held by people is no more abused, misused and exploited, each day, each place, at each speck of opportunity.


The power of position, money, fame. The power of Words...

Internet and Phones. And the physical power, of men, in groups and alone, shown time and again by violating defenseless females.


I pray harder this time, that may you all realize, that real power, is the strength to act on what you all know, to be the right thing. The knowledge of right and wrong, I believe, is right there, inside each one of you. Use yours, for the good.


Happy Republic Day to all of you,


Blessings,


The Indian National Flag