I'm Gonna Hug

No matter how many times I watch this, the same warm fuzzy feeling remains, instantly I want to reach out across signals and oceans to the near and those afar and plant one.

This is me, and I feel a warm hug, not a profiled one arm pretentious one, but a spherical both arms crushed around, with a slight side to side swing or a delightful squeal thrown in sometimes, comes closest to peeing in your pants on a cold rainy day - when you can feel the warmth oozing out from within!

I don’t believe in hugging strangers or anybody that I can’t throw myself at. A hug is intimate. If there be any gap for an iota of awkwardness to breeze in between bodies, I’d shake your hand instead.

So I’m gonna hug, ooh hoo, I’m gonna hug….

Raanjhanaa.

Raanjhanaa is Anand L Rai’s second offering after Tanu Weds Manu and with this one thing's proved for sure - apart from him being a good director, he has a brilliant story teller in Himanshu Sharma, as a team they understand the complexity of relationships. 

After I watched Raanjhanaa I wasn’t too sure who the director was or where the story came from, but now it all makes sense!

Himanshu Sharma in both his films tipped over shades of grey within his characters. Forming an opinion declaring the good bad or the ugly is easy, but keeping your audience shifty between one bum cheek and the other is an art.

Tanu’s character was a tease yet naive, blatantly in your face but coy, confused one minute but all planned out the next, she could be in love one minute and not, in the other, but she was real and I couldn’t decide if what she was doing was right or wrong.

Similarly, with Kundan. At the start of the film, I remember discussing with a friend that this boy will have it tough, wont last a day in Bollywood, he’s simply not gonna find any takers to become poster boy!

And as the movie untangled and tangled I swallowed every word…bit by bit.

The thing to love about Raanjhanaa is, that it’s not preachy, it didn’t feel like I was watching a story with a motive or didn’t find myself questioning where is this going? It felt like experiencing just a page out of three regular lives, Kundan (Dhanush), Zoya (Sonam) and Jasbeer’s (Abhay).

Kundan is just about potty trained when he falls in love with Zoya. His love grows with puberty at the peak of which, he finally gathers courage to propose. Circumstances take Zoya away to a far off land leaving Dhanush only with a hope of her return.

8 yrs later she does. But by this time Zoya has blossomed into a lady with views on political and literature standards. Kundan, on the other hand, never really travelled beyond the Ganges and the difference between the two now seems wider than the Ganges. Him still nurturing his puppy love, now has a bigger task at hand – getting Zoya married to the one she loves!

As this story of unconventional love unfolds, many scenes are bursting with emotions well enacted, the flashback of Zoya and Jasbeer, Kundan’s moment of anger upon realizing his love pines for another, helplessness upon realizing the irrevocable catastrophe his actions have resulted in, realizing the price of repentance and the smile that knows and accepts it all. Moments where you don’t know if forgiveness is an option, but you understand, how when you can see life ahead but one turn, that’s not even wrong to begin with, changes everything.

The cinematography was not about creating a coffee table book on Benares but some scenes are really well shot. Years progress musically through Raanjhanaa and Tum Tak is well written and directed. Aise Na Dekho has soft jazz undertones. Nazar Laaye is a soft melodious number, though I don’t remember it being in the film. The soundtrack is decent mix of goodies. 

As far as skills are to be rated, it’s more important that Sonam has managed to not make anyone cringe, Abhay Deol, I’ve always maintained is a good actor known to be very choosy about his scripts. I wonder why then, is he in films without an iota of a chance for him to flex anything. Dhanush, well like they say “…Tamil super star…”

So when Jr. AB called up and congratulated Dhanush personally on his performance, even extending an invitation to play Godfather, I’d say “banta hai boss!”

Interesting, Introspective and Intense – that’s what Raanjhanaa was for me. 

Victorian Secrets

There’s something about old age charm. Though I don’t necessarily wish I was born in the era of being carted around in chariots, but its hard not to imagine what life would have been…

Fancy living in houses where ceilings are two floors high. Where sunlight filtering in through sky roofs gently warms the colors of the paintings adorning the walls, where upon looking out, one feasted on orchards of some kind, rather taillights of lingering traffic. When walks were more about hats and frilled umbrellas and market visits had you bumping into ‘Sire’s’ with hats coming off in acknowledgment. When high tea and silver cutlery made more for conversation across landscapes and courting was a smile for many meetings, before they’d bow to take your leave.

 When coffee shops didn’t exist and a fountain was all you had for music. When suitors talked about history and art and masked ballroom dancing was today’s answer to chat rooms. When pigeons and messengers travelled from far off land and visiting your uncle’s estate was for ‘the summers’. When you sat in and watched the rain, gently leaving trails on large french windows.

The days of gloves and lace bodice, when hand fans, boots and corsets could make even ‘too many carbs’ look pretty.

 When guests were shown into a study, with walls carpeted in literature, and the head - parlour maid 'acquainted the lady about their arrival at once!'

When the domestic assembly was also over cake and tea in the kitchen and the attic was for locked away memoirs.

When it wasn’t just calling out to someone in the next room, it was travelling from one to another. When stonewalls added to the hues of sunset, and drinks were served around the fireplace, in the library, after that.

The closest I’ve come to living the era is writing letters, when weeks of waiting climaxed into a one-page reply.  When Google was not just in my pocket, and visiting a cyber café was an outing.

Never really had a pen friend, whom I lost touch with due to a change in address, or had letters written, comparing my beauty to a blushing sky, but I’m re- discovering the art of writing versus dialing - and it’s fun!

Actually today is pretty much a dark and twisted side of the Victorian era, only the romance in it has sadly died. 

Geet Gaata Chal Musafir.

As the last Rs.2 exchanged hands between the auto driver, and me, I was left feeling rather pensive (only for a minute and half) – Could I be turning into an alcoholic?

Who else sitting in auto on their way to work would crave a glass of wine at 10:30 am?  I reasoned, maybe it had something to do with the ride. The moment I found myself seated in this auto, soft instrumental music flitted about. My reaction to anything playing on an auto's speakers usually is 'bhaiya band karo pls!' Nothing personal Mr. Altaf or the makers of “Pallu ke peeche chupa ke rakha hai…” or “Tu bewafa yaar bewafa pyaar…”. It’s just that…Just!

Getting into an auto very rarely triggers the subconscious mind of lyrics like “Waada karo nahin chodogi tum mera saath…” I started smiling. Within minutes the sound of rain began filtering in through the acoustics. I sang along.“Kuch na kaho...kuch bhi na kaho...” The auto trotted along the busy roads, the breeze waltzed through open doors and suddenly I wished, to not be anywhere but in this auto - and to have nothing but a glass of sparkling, as I perfected karaoke to “Din tere bin kahin kat ta nahin, waqt guzarta nahin...” my urge for that glass seemed to be getting stronger competing with the rain, “Ishq bina kya jeena yaroon, gud se meetha ishq ishq, ho ho ohhh...”. But like all good things that must come to an end, so did my ride and an unfulfilled desire, maybe I should take his number and hail his auto to drop me to work everyday. Only next time, come prepared with the simple bare necessities. Gosh! is this how it starts, am I turning into an alcoholic?

As the sound of traffic and chitter chatter took over, another melody played on, getting fainter by distance as the auto geared away.