A hearty story, an earnest attempt and a simple narrative, Nila Madhab Panda’s directorial debut is nothing but a master’s stroke. I am Kalam is a tale of Chotu, who works at a small road side eatery in a remote location in Rajasthan. While on one hand he is battling financial crisis, on the other he aspires to follow the ideals of President Kalam. His never ebbing desire to study and to be able to go to a school is demonstrated with such innocence that it makes one’s heart go all the way out for Chotu.

Chotu delivers tea and snacks at the village headman’s villa where he meets Ranvijay, the headman’s son who is prohibited from mingling with the masses. The film essays the contrast in the lifestyles of two distinct strata of the Indian society through these two characters. In essence, the story enunciates the social struggle for education in rural India without being verbose in language or loud in expression.

The biggest asset of I am Kalam is in fact the simplicity with which the narrative has been built. Harsh Mayar has rendered a heart warming performance as Chotu. Gulshan Grover’s eloquent portrayal of Bhati, the owner of the food joint is a sheer pleasure to watch. The journey of characters throughout the film showcase different emotional upsurges in a consistent way which keep the audiences glued. A highly recommended film for those who want to experience good cinema!

In a plethora of block busters, a film like Bubble Gum comes across as a breath of fresh air. There are only a handful films which cater to teenage audience in the true sense.  The wonder years of everybody’s life – carefree and filled with pluck and hope. This film by Sanjivan Lal takes us back to the wonder years when the dimensions and definitions of ‘being cool’ were tremendously different.

The protagonist, Vedant is an average boy next door who is as eager to enjoy the Holi vacation as is everyone else in his class. The film begins with Vedant’s crush for Jenny, the daughter of a police officer in the neighborhood. Like every other story, there is a villain by the name of Ratan who is competing with Vedant for Jenny. The film is filled with a bunch of fun filled anecdotes when both the lads try to impress the damsel. The turning point of the film is when Vedant’s dumb and deaf elder brother Vidur comes home for vacation and hogs all the limelight and affection of their parents played by Tanvi Azmi and Sachin Khedekar. The film encompasses teenage trauma, puppy love and sibling rivalry with finesse and elegance.

Bubble Gum is based in Jamshedpur and rightly captures the small town charm of the city. It is also weaved around the festival of Holi symbolically connecting different colors of the festival with different shades of life and the joy of appreciating them. Delzaad Hiwale has given a phenomenal performance as Vedant and Sohail Lakhani shines out as Vidur. The cinematography and art direction too stand out in making it a wholesome experience. For those who want to see an honest movie with a feel good factor, Bubble Gum is a must watch!

The views mentioned above are strictly my own. Different films works for different people. Hope to see many more good movies in 2012, here’s wishing everyone a very happy and prosperous new year!

]]> http://himanshukoshe.wordpress.com/2012/01/02/a-few-good-films/feed/ 8 Himanshu I am Kalam bubble gum (2011) Hindi Movie http://himanshukoshe.wordpress.com/2011/07/13/%e0%a4%a7%e0%a5%88%e0%a4%b0%e0%a5%8d%e0%a4%af-%e0%a4%b8%e0%a5%8b-%e0%a4%b0%e0%a4%b9%e0%a4%be-%e0%a4%b9%e0%a5%88/ http://himanshukoshe.wordpress.com/2011/07/13/%e0%a4%a7%e0%a5%88%e0%a4%b0%e0%a5%8d%e0%a4%af-%e0%a4%b8%e0%a5%8b-%e0%a4%b0%e0%a4%b9%e0%a4%be-%e0%a4%b9%e0%a5%88/#comments Wed, 13 Jul 2011 20:16:59 +0000 Himanshu http://himanshukoshe.wordpress.com/?p=357 ]]> Another Wednesday, another attack. While on one hand I am infuriated at the fallacies of the security agencies, I feel terrible for the deceased and those who are suffering. I am not a big proponent of Mumbai standing back on its feet and all that jazz. How many times should she stand back, fight back? How many times is her perseverance going to be put to test?

I am probably at lack of words to state the discombobulated emotion. This is probably my spontaneous outburst..

आग का बवंडर, दहशत का है मेला,

स्वप्नों की नगरी, आतंक का है खेला|

ज्योत बुझ रही है, अंधेर हो रहा है,

आंसुओं की आड में, क्यों धैर्य सो रहा है?

*

सिकुड़ती है तरंग, कायरों के गर्व से,

झुलसती है उमंग, हमलों के पर्व से|

वो अथांग सागर, असहाय हो रहा है,

आंसुओं की आड में, क्यों धैर्य सो रहा है?

*

मौन सिसकियों की राजनीत हो रही है!

वीरों की भूमि, संतप्त रो रही है!

भयहीन वीर कल का, निर्बल सा हो रहा है|

आंसुओं की आड में, क्यों धैर्य सो रहा है?

*

दाता तुझसे पुकार, कण-कण में बल दे,

अंगार दे, चैतन्य दे, निष्ठां मगर अचल दे|

वरदान देने तू क्यूँ निर्वाक हो रहा है?

आंसुओं की आड में, क्यों धैर्य सो रहा है?

*************

P.S: Apologies  to the Hindi impaired. I don’t think I can translate it well in English.

I had a very sharp memory. Trust me, I did! My friends usually burst out in laughter when I try to convince them about this. I had called to wish my aunt a happy birthday and she quickly stated that Facebook has really made remembering birthdays easy. Well, you don’t really have to remember them now. A nice pop up or a side bar does it for you. I told her that I maintain a spreadsheet with all the birthdays listed on it. So far I trust my memory to look at the spreadsheet. The day does not seem to be very far when the application will trigger an email from your inbox as well. I am simply surprised by the level of emotional disconnect I would have eventually.

I was traveling to New York a couple of weeks back in the train. As I stepped in the train at my stop, I noticed this girl with a familiar face getting in as well. I knew that I knew her! But, I chose to disregard me noticing her as there was just no way could I remember her name. The subway in NYC is as accommodating as the local trains in Mumbai. With every stop it makes, a few people manage to edge out, a few squeeze in and the re-shuffling is never-ebbing. So, after a couple of stops, this unknown girl was right next to me and not noticing her was like disregarding Baba Remdev’s fast!   Before I could even think of greeting her…

She: Hey Hi Himanshu! What a pleasant surprise? How have you been? XYZ told me that you went on to pursue Master’s. Are you done with it? Oops! Lot of questions… Take your time…

Me: Errr… Yeah!!  (At this point, neither did I remember her name, nor did I recollect who XYZ was!! Duhhh!! ) I am here for an internship. I am going to be around until the end of August.

She: Oh that’s great! We should catch up sometime. I am going to get off at 14^th. Where are you headed to?

Me: Oh just meeting a couple of friends near 33^rd.

She: I guess you changed your number? I have the old one.

Me: Aah.. yes.. I am sorry, the shift from being at work to being a student happened in a jiffy for me. I could not inform a lot of
people.

She: Yeah. I get it. So, what’s your new number?

Me: Oh yes! I am sorry… It’s blah blah blah… What’s yours?

She: I’ll ring you up once I am out of the train.

Me: (Why couldn’t she just give her number? She had to give the insurmountable “missed call”!!! ) ok sure!

I don’t think she even thought that I wouldn’t remember her name. She did give me a “missed call” and I have this number saved in my phone as the “The Unknown Girl”.

I have been trying to figure out her name by asking possible common friends. But behold! Whenever I ask this question to anyone, I only give them an opportunity to have loads of fun at my cost!

Nostalgia

A few weeks back I got a call from an unknown number. The first thought that came to my mind was that it would be another recruiter calling me to convey rejection. I was going pretty crazy with the internship search then. But well, the sound on the other end of the phone was certainly not that of a nonchalant recruiter.

He: Hi! Am I speaking with Himanshu?

Me: Yes.

He: don’t tell me you still haven’t recognized my voice?

Me (After a blink, viola!!): Ohhhooo!! Its you!!

It was an old friend of mine I had lost touch with over the years. Getting back in touch with friends is just so truly invigorating. We indeed had a lot to catch up on. We talked about the amazing trip that we had made while in college. We revisited all our typical hang outs through the conversation, talked about exams, talked about movies and several other nothings of the world. After the call, I got back to the internship hunt, but probably the anxiety was a little abated by the smile on my face…

Well, there are some moments which erase out of our memory too soon and there are these other several moments that we cherish and reminisce for a lifetime. I have certainly come to realize that neither of the two is in our control!

Life’s like that – Of moments to forget and moments to remember!

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“Life’s Like That” is a segment where I narrate incidences that have transformed from mere thoughts to wonderful memories. Click here for more posts in the segment!

Stanley, the protagonist is a forth standard student of the Holy Family School. The first few minutes of the film showcase the sheer fun that Stanley (Partho) has with his gang of friends in the school. The screenplay quickly presents a sketch of every character in the narrative. The Hindi teacher Babu Verma (Amole Gupte) who digs into the lunch boxes of students and teachers alike, the typical Science teacher Mrs. Iyer (Divya Jagdale)  who only means business and the charming English teacher Ms. Rosy (Divya Dutta) who is probably every boy’s crush. Stanley is clearly the favorite buddy of the entire class. His entertaining anecdotes are popular with everyone in the class. However, he gets in the bad books of Babu Verma for he never gets his tiffin box. The turning point of the story is when Verma scolds Stanley and asks him to enter the school only if he has a Dabba. Almost from the first frame, the director builds an enigma about Partho’s life out of school. Where does he live? What do his parents do? And most importantly, why doesn’t he get his Dabba? Stanley’s Dabba strongly symbolizes the reality behind his enigmatic existence.

One of the key highlights of the film is the effortless and warm performances by the child actors. Partho is adorable in every bit of his presence on the screen and his gang of friends made me nostalgic indeed! The film has been made through acting lessons over the weekends and the children have not missed a single day of school. Divya Dutta shines bright as Ms Rosy and Amole Gupte wears the “Khadus” title in an entertaining yet convincing way. The film never flashes out of the boundary of subtlety. There are no preachy dialogues nor are there any tear jerking scenes. It is the sheer simplicity that the narrative has to offer which captivates the audience.

The background score is predominantly used for narrating parts of the screenplay. In my humble opinion, the songs may not really be good to listen unless one has the images of the film to map the lyrics to. Having said that, Shankar Mahadevan’s stirring rendition “Nanhi si Jaan” lingered on my mind for quite a bit.

Stanley, figuratively puts forth several questions which we probably overlook easily while going about our daily chores. His mysterious Dabba while on one hand states that it is love and affection which can bind us all together; it also throws light on the probable fallacies in our societal notions and jaundiced opinions on the other.

There is a little bit of Stanley in every one of us! Stanley Ka Dabba is a journey back in the years of our lives which are probably the most cherished by most of us.  It expands the horizons of perceptions outwards and peaks inwards with a sensitive flavor that creates a  heartwarming experience. For all those who want to watch a simple film which can probably give your cerebrum something to ponder, go for it!

My Rating:

I was sorting some of my photographs when I thought of putting up a picture and writing a Haiku for every season. Here is the end product of my attempt…

Winter (View from my apartment after a snow storm)

Winter’s spell – warm barn,
snow capped hills and chilly breeze.
Calm in still white peace…

Spring (Sunset from my apartment just after a rainy spell)

Spring’s blossom – cheery bright.
Witnessing nature’s delight.
an engrossing sight…

Summer (Dry and parched Grand Canyon)

Summer’s fury – harsh heat.
The Sun mercilessly blazing,
noon shadows gazing…

Fall (Colorful & fiery leaves at Bear Mountain, NY)

Autumn’s gift – misty milieu.
lapping water, warmth in the sky,
leaves – colorful n dry…

The mere thought of something being immortal is intriguing. I cannot think of a moment when I have not had an emotional attachment with things I possessed – my books, my music collection, etc. Knowingly or unknowingly, we invest both emotionally and mentally in our possessions and it is obviously difficult to relinquish them. My father could not bear the fact that he had to sell his first ever scooter which he had bought by his own money just because it was old. At that time, I could not appreciate his feeling. I was more than glad for the upgrade. A few years later, when I was in his shoes selling my first bike, I could not stop myself from sharing the same sentiment.

I feel that these attachments give birth to desires and expectations. The expectations lead to yearning. May be it is this yearning which has led man to discover earthly secrets and also to make astonishing inventions. While most of the religions preach abstaining from worldly desires, it is also true that it is because of these desires that discoveries and inventions happen. I feel that our sensibilities are skewed when we speak of such intricate designs we are surrounded with. This dilemma does not seem to resolve at least for me!

The fact remains that our expectations do not always align with our destiny. This leads to disappointments in some cases, while in others, an instigation to strive even harder to achieve the desired.  Our desire to make things faster, smaller and more convenient can be considered to be the one end of the spectrum of immortality.

The question that pops up is where does the attachment which someone like Panditji has with his art lie on this spectrum? Is there any amount of insecurity about an artist’s prowess which tags along with fame and fortune? I don’t think these questions have any definite answers. May be someone like Panditji never had these questions; or may be his state of mind was as Kabir exclaims his state of intoxication – void of any differences and segments.

As I get back from my ramblings to the soulful rendition, I cannot help but think of how sad I was to hear about Panditji’s demise. But, I now feel that his notes and his music are so profound that they are even beyond this vicious circle of birth and death… they are simply immortal…

“IMMORTAL is an ample word
When what we need is by, 
But when it leaves us for a time,
‘T is a necessity.”

— Emily Dickinson

I think this very tryst with handling the tight rope walk between taking a step forward and looking over the shoulder into the past is what fizzled up in the following poem. Every challenge and every struggle reiterates the need to perceive.. the need to persevere… again and again..

Disclaimer: This is the first time I have attempted to write a poem in my mother tongue, Marathi. Apologies to the readers who do not understand the language. Although I tried to come up with a translation, I don’t think I would be able to do a good job at it. To all those who understand Marathi, feel free to comment and critique. I would be more than happy to know what you feel about the poem. For those who want to give translation a shot, you are most welcome..

ओंझळीत तू घेउनी स्वप्ने,

घे भरारी उंच नभा,

हेच व्हायचे पुनः पुनः.

*

पुनः एकदा नवीन आशा,

जुनी वळणे , नव्या दिशा,

पुढे जायच्या घाईमध्ये ,

क्षणभर मागे वळून पहा,

हेच व्हायचे पुनः पुनः.

*

पुनः एकदा नवीन नाती,

जुने रण, अन् नवी नीती,

गुंत्यांच्या ह्या गुंत्यामध्ये,

मुक्तछंद तू विहरत राहा,

हेच व्हायचे पुनः पुनः.

Here are the features of a Clerihew:-

1. They are four lines long.
2. The first and second lines rhyme with each other, and the third and fourth lines rhyme with each other.
3. The first line names a person, and the second line ends with something that rhymes with the name of the person.
4. A clerihew should be funny.

The ongoing controversy between Bing and Google after the accusation made by Google that Bing is capturing click-thrus to Google search was the immediate topic that came to my mind. I know that Bing and/or Google are not persons. But, fictitiously, let us assume them to be two boxers in the ring. I am writing two Clerihews – one accusing Bing of cheating and the second a sort of retort to the same. So here it goes..

Here goes the Ding Dong Bing!

Upon which Google ran a sting.

And that just made them spill some beans,

of poaching searches and faulty means

************

Shot back a reply retorting Google,

Bing searches fair, it does not smuggle.

The road to searching is full of thorns,

The giants of the game, pointing horns.

The word to be highlighted here is ‘generation’. I have been enlightened of late that I belong to the “Generation Y” also called as the Millennia. I represent the generation transitioning from Generation X to Generation Z. Coming to think of it, Generation X is the one which is completely overwhelmed by the technological advancements that mankind has seen in the past four decades and Generation Z is the one which is completely agnostic to a world without technology. While the prior has a more cynical and jaundiced opinion about every step taken ahead, the latter cannot even imagine a world without the internet. Both the generations have definitive traits and have been quantified very impressively in the pew research publication here: http://pewresearch.org/pubs/1437/millennials-profile

The instigation for me to know more about the generation that I am being labeled into came from this family member. The moment I answered his questions with an evident bit of nonchalance, he cited my father’s example stating that when he was of my age, he was crystal clear with where he wanted to see himself eventually. Along with stating that I waste tones of useful time in just posting status updates on Facebook and browsing the internet in general, what bothered me more was the typecasting of the entire clan.

Although my parents are getting to be technologically savvy, for the only reason that they want to make use of the available channels to communicate with me (Yeah! They have not abandoned me yet ), I do not feel that they are as passionate about it as anyone from my generation is. We are truly the most socially connected generation. Alongside, we appreciate a world devoid of technology as successfully as the one that we live in. One of my friends who is well placed in an awesome company, content, so to say happened to mention that it could have been really difficult for him to get to where he is now without the aid of social networking. The point being that we are more receptive to being socially participative than others.

Well, this argument didn’t satiate my listener in any way. However, I must say that there was one question that made so much more sense than the others – to know what are you here for?

Isn’t this the most fundamental question of any philosophy or any mythology – to understand the reason for one’s existence? How blissful would it be to know the answer to this question and the definitions of success or failure would just fall in place and the conundrum called life would simply transform into a wonderfully hummable song. Well, coming to reality filled with dilemmas, confusions and answer-less questions is difficult indeed… Being Millennial!

On one of the recent snowy days, I was just amused at how nature changes its color intermittently. Sometimes, it seems like an act of vengeance while on others a sign of grace. Somewhere, swayed by the crowd while at others, lurching in solitude…

Ridiculously white out of the window!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snow -

White flakes.

Winter frost.

Sunshine all lost.

Walking past cold streets,

Suspicious frozen trees.

Gelid wind, icy cold chills,

Boisterously cheery snow – capped hills.

Out of the window – white everywhere,

Warm solitude held snug in a balmy chair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S : The picture has been clicked by none other than the maestro himself – Abhishek Bhattacherjee. I urge you all to check out his pics here!