New girl in the city

Does sound familiar, eh? Well, I’m no Aisha Banerjee and Sid is no friend of mine. ;) But every new girl has a story; that is different in parts but similar on the whole. A new city – be it a metropolis, cosmopolis, conglomerate (...all those urban planning terms I picked up in grad school!) – provides sumptuous challenges to any single woman - battling new grounds, identities, situations along with the fad words of the season - gender safety, isolation & inflation.

In my case, moving out of a friends place was a landmark decision and it was received with 2 hands and a splitting grin that I was more than happy to reciprocate. ;) Not at any fault of hers, but the itch for anonymity led me to look outwards – be it a den, a kennel or a cage – but being ‘no strings attached’ & invisible does have its own serene charm. A working women's hostel - that's my new home for a longer duration possibly.

It was the day of Ganesh Nimajjan here - and I left to the new place with possibly the only vacant auto on the road. I had the time to just dump my luggage in the lobby, introduce myself to my roommates and get walking to office. I walked the stretch of Road No.3 & 2 on the seemingly ordinary day, soaking in the sun's warmth. In office, most of the time went about in telling my colleagues about the new place, about getting back & unpacking; the walk uphill (which BTW takes just 15 mins), the panoramic view of the Park Hyatt and so on...And just as we were about to wrap up - at about 5 PM, dark clouds came hurling towards our glass wall - on the 4th floor overlooking the city, it was a breathtaking sight - trust me! :) OK, it’s not the Eiffel tower & this is no Paris – yet being closer to the clouds is considered a heavenly experience! ;)

As expected, soon all hell broke loose - it began raining cows and elephants – the Indian way! And to add to all that chaos, there were hundreds of people on the roads with dhols and trumpets, carrying Ganeshas – on the final day of Ganesh Chaturthi. I was enjoying all of it from above, tapping my feet to familiar numbers and all that. 7 PM – and nothing had changed – probably worsened. The road had turned into an amalgam of people, cars, sound systems & generators, garlands & ganeshas. By 8, power supply was down & I decided to make a move – by then the clouds had parted for dinner I suppose. So out I got, with my laptop bag clung on to me like a kangaroo’s joey. :)

Onto the road and I realised that this was not going to be a cakewalk. The road sinuously lay in front of me like spoons filled with brown tonic. It struck me then that Banjara Hills was actually a couple of ‘vagabond mounds’ that got together to form a shopping quarter.

Jumping over pools actually covering almost the entire width of the road, getting sprayed by ‘street-smart’ cars, wading thru’ pools of floral slush – I finally got to the auto stand. Well, hello! No autos and even the few that were there were being auctioned – to destinations that were the farthest, the geographically easiest, the costliest – and many such superlatives – that were being spit out in rapid Telugu. In return to the awesome entertainment that we humans generate in crises situations like these, the rain gods broke into a round of applause.

Unable to take it any longer, I began to walk down the road, thro’ millions of potholes, brooks, waterfalls, man-holes, trash cans, sand heaps – and god knows all that  gooey stuff that I must’ve tread on in the dark. And in the occasional brightness of a passing car – I would chart my path for the next 50 meters I walked by – thinking of good, old days – when I would sit on the couch at home, watch the raindrops on the trees, drinking tea & reading a book – wondering why anyone would hate the rains...?

Cut to reality! By then I had reached the trough, and there was just water, water everywhere – no pavements, not a single solid to step on, and water was rising at an alarming pace, flowing in from the surrounding hills. So far, I was being an ant, following the person right in front of me. Pausing under trees, I was shivering literally thinking of the ‘miles’ I need to walk back, before I could go to sleep.

There, alone in an unknown city, alongside strangers, grappling for a firm ground – I began to question my karma. Silly as it may sound, but I didn’t have much options in hand - either I get hit by a speeding car - walking bang on the centre of the road to escape a large puddle, or I fall into the man-hole and break a few bones maybe, or hold onto a cable and get electrocuted. Sarvam, Kandukondain^2 & Anniyan began playing back to back in my mind. How filmy can I get? Well, such situations occurred only in movies until that day. I shook it off almost quickly and began to concentrate on the wooden plank that would possibly get me across the next trench.

Just then, about 100 mts away, a guy just fell sidelong into it – That’s it! I had lost all hope by then. :( But the human spirit can make a man do wonderful things (especially when others are watching!) The guy began to laugh his lungs out - despite a wet-laptop, bruised arm & having lost his spectacles. Soon joined his friends (I suppose!), followed by the rest of us. It lightened the doldrums around and I almost felt that the lights were back.

But the ‘wet blanket’ that I usually am, quickly drifted to another problem on hand. I had never seen the new place in darkness (of course, no one can!) But I was beginning to feel that I had lost my way all of a sudden). Now all that I needed that night, was to get lost en-route, get raped, get flown to a hospital in Secunderabad and die as the ‘unvanquished’. Never mind the thought, I spotted a familiar restaurant and found my way back.

And this was just the beginning.

Road No.3 - my current address - easy as it might sound, is contrastingly convoluted in terrain. I began a storey lower, climbed to the main road, went down it – and was knee deep in water. Weeds were sticking onto my legs – or at least I felt so. Finally managed to reach the road that ends with the hostel and lo!

That was one sight to behold - Cars parked on the road and water gushing around their sides in eddies. After that, was a rock pile, which was the only humane path to reach to the next gate. I almost toppled over one and held onto a trimdek panel that slightly tore my hand. Then the open drain - thankfully overflowing with just organic waste - and there I was just 50 mts away from going uphill to the hostel gate.

Whoa! - Finally found the end of the tunnel. Light shone and hope shimmered. Little did I know that it was an approaching train instead! - An unmanned Honda Activa was uncontrollably closing in on me. Its stand had given in to the pressure of the water and just slid from above. I almost fell for it till a pair of celestial hands just lifted me across and held me on to a short stone slab away from it.

I was still alive, still breathing. I had almost lost all sensation of my motor organs when I saw that scooter. And there I was once again; Hands-check. Feet-check. Eyes & ears, check, check.

I was welcomed into the hostel – almost like a war hero. New silhouettes, handing me towels, hosing me down, taking my laptop bag away, giving me a seat. Never felt anything like this ever before. I officially hate Takeshi’s castle now! :P And reliving that entire one hour, stranded there in filthy water – I felt like wailing out loud like a baby, wanted to hug someone - but things aren’t quite that easy always – they just get better with time! :)

Back to the future...?

We have reached a point in time now, when everyone’s doing realistic cinema or adaptations of books. Seems like we’re done learning from the movies & they are beginning to take things back from us.

So, do we make movies or do they make us?

The lines have blurred. Fantasy & reality walk hand in hand on screen, that too in 3D. Expectations rise every Friday. Few live up to it, others don’t. Production houses are in a fix. Unable to decide as to what may please a movie-goer, trends have bifurcated. Yet, some age-old formulae work; it’s a sure shot cash-back policy - more like a continuum of the past. Of course, we’re not going to let them get away with that, are we? Probably that’s one of the reasons why creativity in filmdom is subject to much criticism these days. Clouds of controversy hover over various aspects of film-making, much before the film’s released. Comparisons are being drawn in, minute by minute. Probably, they’re not just publicity gimmicks.

People don’t like being kept in the dark anymore (unless inside a theatre, of course!). Also adding to it is the audience’s eye for details. Interestingly, a few of us movie-buffs discuss aspects of film-making which is subject to analysis, like what film-makers try to say without actually ‘saying.’ As a result of such critical thinking, people have begun to recognise movies as something that is much more than this actor’s or that director’s. I’ve been on a retro-American high for a month now. I’ve had back-to-back sessions of Hitchcock, Kubrick, Chaplin & Howard Hawks. Each of them represent starkly different approaches to movie-making – some keep the thrill & twists intact while scripting, some have a keen-eye for details & cinematography, yet others communicate without dialogue & few others bank solely on the cast.

This understanding has led to the recognising of the background effort that goes into what a movie looks & feels like eventually. Focus is shifting to production houses, art directors, graphics & animation studios – most of those departments that never received appreciation even at famed award functions; leave alone amongst people. Technically speaking, new wave cinema is like an ode to this understanding. Acknowledging efforts that go into making a good movie, aiming at making the end product greater than the sum of all its parts, and reflecting the life and times of people today.

But in India, change (in entertainment) as much as it’s wanted, is resisted because unlike the west where history isn’t old; story-telling can move on without the baggage of the past. We still hold a grip over family values & culture, festivals & folklore – it’s like a brightly coloured fabric wrapped across our eyes & thoughts – anything new, is seen in hues of those colours. As means of social change, the fabric has grown thinner over the years, yet its presence is undoubtedly felt. So, the new breeds of directors aren’t trying to say different things, but differently; like a fresher perspective. Remakes, adaptations & sequels were born, thus.

When film-makers undertake tasks like these, they have a pre-defined box; the story, characters, setting, genre etc. This box, of constraints is all that a resourceful individual yearns for. It heightens the creative potential of the team by disregarding elements that are obsolete. Whether the outcome is out-of-the-box or safe-within-the-box is subjective. The need to fool or spoon-feed the audience doesn’t exist. It is a layered movie experience that awaits the audience, all this and much more begins much before the film’s opening night. 

The Big Picture

Maya is a movie freak. Period. Cinema, ever since childhood has been one of her weaknesses. Something so phony, larger than life, away from reality is a very dangerous weakness, she was told. But the many who’d advised her themselves were neck-deep addicted to movies. You see... born into a family of movie buffs, conversations began and ended with cinema. She used to believe that those relatives were undercover agents – they never really worked or discussed it. Occasionally, news was discussed – that was the informative part – but as children, she & cousins understood them to be Greek & Latin. And also, news was sad – fraud, killings, scheming politicians – arrey, why talk about such things that can only re-instate the fact that the world is doomed. Sports had many takers – but once it became a money-making business, people lost their sportive spirit. ‘No religious talk for us, it’s only meant for the expiry-dated!’ said the many young (at heart). So ruling out those possibilities, movies became the crowd favourite.

So much said & done, they still taught the kids to believe that life was not movies – dance & drama, showbiz. There was a line between reel & real – which showed itself quite too often, in the form of a stick. Maya, off all her cousins – was the No.1 dram-e-baz. Dressing up like heroines, collecting their photographs from magazines, trying on make-up, acting – above all this – faking sickness, crocodile tears to get things done and even the occasional ‘Main ghar chodke ja rahi hoon’ dialogue. Phattak – the stick would appear out of nowhere and land on her arm. Back to reality.

Then slowly things changed – they grew (tall & wide), some became ‘serious’ & few others curious (about other things...obviously! :) We are talking about the early 2000’s, when Maya was in high school - the phase when film genres became judging criteria among peers. No one would admit the fact that they watch regional films. It became a prestige issue. I love Alcappuccino, do you...?

They taught her to dream, sing, dance....romance the rain, fight for love, cry for a dead friend...and to believe that all stories had happy endings. Yet ‘movies are fake’ kept ringing in her head all throughout. It kept her head on her shoulders and life’s trying situations passed by like a motion picture in front of her eyes. She maintained this attitude in things that she was consciously in control of. Fair enough. She believed that her decisions, her outlook, in fact even her appearance should never be filmy. But everything else could be...or most probably will be like the movies. That’s when life’s fun, she thought.

High school went by in dejection – apart from a few classmates & common scenarios – nothing was like the way they showed it in the movies. Not fair! All those campus movies/ chick flicks, she’d seen didn’t come close to her college hiatus.

For all those who know me too well, Maya is not me! :) She is a part of me. She is a latent element of a lot of people in my generation. Realization has dawned on me, on how important a part, movies have played in the growing-up years of my generation. To begin with, from this side of the world, being part of someone else’s life, was impossible then. Movies made that happen. We knew beaches in Miami, snow-clad Alps, ghats of Benaras & slums of Dharavi, before National Geographic. In India, actors as mythological characters brought Gods closer to the masses. Ghosts weren't visible in mirrors or photographs, but they were on the big screen. 

Movies defined beauty & manliness, chivalry & grace, bad & good...it still does without a trace. Since the 1900’s, cinema has sculpted people and the society, at large in many, many ways. In particular, as Indian Cinema celebrates 100 years – this is an undeniable homage. We are what we are because of the movies we see, that our parents saw and what our children will see in the future. Its power cannot be underestimated...

Women to woo men?!

First and foremost.... yesterday was apparently Women's day!! Good luck with that. With the continued expression of 'Every dog has its day' - today's the day of 'the woman'.

Another day for fitness clubs to launch promotional campaigns....retired women to attend martial arts camp...hospitals to hold forum on women's health issues, beauty parlours to waiver prices.... all for today - Phew. What a relief?! I'm sure that all of them are glad that Women's Day happens just once a year....

Well, what's women's day to a lay-'woman' like me?! 

 6.30 AM - Waking up to find the newspaper under a heap of pink & purple flyers, and when I eventually find what I was looking for under all that trash.... there's more right on its front page. Aaarrgh....Chuck it!

 6.45 AM - Then I walk upstairs with it...just because I love colored paper + their high resale value at the paper shop and there goes the radio - with songs saluting the various roles a woman plays in our lives...Ah aah - the same old incarnations of goddesses, daughter, sister, mother, wife, teacher, nurse, ex-president, kaam-waali bai, sheila, munni, etc... 

7.00 AM - Fight ensues with mom - because i just switched off the intolerable music which was her time-manager to go to work. 

7.05 AM - Dad intervenes. Om Shanti....

7.30 AM - At the breakfast table - there's peace till Dad turns on the TV. The scores of news channels loaded with 'responsible journalism' take it upon themselves to rewind us a bit on the growing atrocities in our cities against women - loaded with blood splashed graphics and countless facts & figures. It makes sense alright, probably a temporary impact - till I taste the yummy peanut chutney!!! 

8.30 AM - The tornadoes have left home for work - and I begin cleaning up the mess - assisted by the servant aunty. A soft-spoken women who works despite a reluctant body just to make ends meet. Well..I noticed that this time the bruises are on her arm. Its just not her....millions out there. Whether its Women's day or not - domestic violence has no holiday. Probably the beverages corporation can shed some light on this issue....

9.30 AM - No more of TV or Radio for me. Onto check mail... Surprising!! Google has no doodle.  

10.00 AM - Through the usual stuff - Ads of online dating sites on YouTube are lesser today noticeably. Flipkart's back with their ads for reduced price range in womenswear till something else struck my fancy...

----- takes a pledge on Women's Day

On the occasion of International Women's Day, superstar --- pledges that henceforth his leading actress' name would appear before his on film credit rolls.

I appreciate him in doing that much atleast. After all "change doesn't have to be big, the point is to start, with whatever is around you! " But sadly, I think its just another  'Jo tumhara hai, wo mera hai' publicity stunt.

So these are the loads of ---- that are the guest of our lives on this 'official annual festival'. Festival for whom I wonder?! I'm sure marketing gurus are already upbeat in conducting surveys and forecasting as what could happen on the next Women's day.

 Having been thro' half a day of torture was enough to get me thinking. What's all this hullabalu got to do with being a woman?! The common strands among all the above business gimmicks are beauty, fitness, sex (actually, its the cheap titillation associated with it) and helplessness. Surprisingly - they are what we've made womanhood synonymous with. 

"Its too late to do something about it!", pessimists say. "We can't change the way people think about us." But I've something in mind (yes....finally I'm getting to it!) Its not a discount, nor a karate class and not even sympathy. Its just a perspective... and DAMN!! It can't be bought, marketed but can be ignored or embraced as you wish.

It is as simple as this - change your vantage point. We all like pretty things, don't we?! - girls, women,even older women who are good-looking. My radar is constantly on the look-out for such heavenly creations... I've personally quoted 'A thing  of beauty is a joy forever' a million times when my eyes feast upon them..... Then just imagine what guys are put thro' in such situations....Its animal instinct after all! 

Contrastingly there are prejudices against women who are not appealing - in the way they look, the clothes they wear. Like for example - I've been stopped a couple of times from speaking with the sleazy prof. for a class issue by the guys - (No... not in any chivalrous awakening on their side!!) - but to let the prettier ladies pass by and get the work done instead. I don't pity the guys but the women around them....who let this happen! Their mom's, sisters, girlfriends and even classmates like us - we laughed it off then - probably happy that the problem was resolved. 

We market ourselves as showpieces (bimbos to be exact!!) on the advice of men for the so-called general good!! Is that all that is to us?!  Personally... I've been traumatized by such situations, demoralized by my own self for having been a silent spectator. Are women just to woo men...? is the question. If NO ('Not only', 'Maybe', 'I don't know', 'Can't help it' etc..included) is the answer, then why the hell do we let this happen?!

Change too is in our hands! Seems very far fetched & impossible but my perspective states -Try and look beyond beauty that's just skin-deep. Make men in our lives cultivate this attitude from scratch. Try....Just TRY not to judge women by their looks. It is difficult because image is a powerful thing. But it really is the key to a lot of deadlocks in the society. 

Desh Ubal Raha Hai!! These initial hiccups - violence & disparity against women is a strong reaction by our age-old male-dominated society to the women turning from 'Ghar Ka Maal' to 'Gali Ka Maal'. They are a jealous lot after all (like most of us...)

There's no better time to infuse this perspective into our day-to-day lives and the millions of situations that cripple the essence of 'being feminine.'

So...on that note I leave you with this video on a similar prejudice at another level. We are experts in judging a third-party situation, so have a look at this!! 

http://www.ted.com/talks/cameron_russell_looks_aren_t_everything_believe_me_i_m_a_model.html