Monday, August 14, 2017
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Friday, May 11, 2012
Sunday, July 24, 2011
i frankly dont know why i am writing this note...i am not tagging any one...those who really want to...will read it any way..
first things first...this is not a review...although it might seem like one...i wont be scrambling the anatomy of the film's screenplay...the bottom line is that this film works...may be because it tells the truth...of how trapped we are...and how we cant let go...and how badly we want to..it shows us the things we want to do but dont...quaintness we want to experience but cant...silences we want to touch but will not...
it has tought me a lot and justified my love for film making...the lingering feel it has left me with...makes me want to cut down allot of things from my bucket list...yes...i have always had one...i dont know where this note is going...but i just want to jot down some where about this after taste...its like drinking water...mountain water may be...but ZNMD stands tall because of what it shows (not how it shows) ...and may be someday...we all will break free of our shackels...may be ill start falling in love with myself...may be you will...with some one else...but the philosophy of living each moment...no matter how romantic it may sound...is a luxury of the "haves"...currently...i am a "have not"...but the main point is..
Jab jab dard ka baadal chaya
Jab ghum ka saya lehraya
Jab aansoo palkon tak aya
Jab yeh tanha dil ghabraya
Humne dil ko yeh samjhaya
…Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai
Duniya mein yunhi hota hai
Yeh jo gehre sannate hain
Waqt ne sabko hi baante hain
Thoda ghum hai sabka qissa
Thodi dhoop hai sabka hissa
Aankh teri bekaar hi nam hai
Har pal ek naya mausam hai
Kyun tu aise pal khota hai
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai
Sunday, January 9, 2011
But like I have always believed…things have a way of being heard. From this year on, I revere Tweeple Film Awards @twi_fi_awards. Awards of the tweeple, for the tweeple and by the tweeple. Thank the lord. Respect for the people who came up with it. We have hope. 26 most eminent critics of the country are already on the critics panel, and voting is on for the tweeple jury. But we need your support. We need some sense to prevail. We need the real art to be awarded and let the real artists prevail. We need to make ourselves heard, and we need to award the people who deserve it. Come and become a part of history.
Follow the awards on twitter @twi_fi_awards and vote. Let your voice be heard.
I am sorry if i look angry...if i seem so...it means i am. Film making IS my blood and i do not want a disease. But lets start in good faith and good fun. Cheers! Bring in the laurels!
Sunday, September 5, 2010
31st August and 1st September became quite a discovery for me. A random Indian morning...a day full of accommodation and assimilation...no hopes what so ever in the system...bad roads, disregard of traffic rules, commonwealth screw up news, and many such things, which didn't quite make a difference any more.
The big end of the day, however, came as quite a revelation.
My Bua had been diagnosed with dengue and admitted in a hospital in the middle of the night and needed 4 B+ blood male donors between 19 to 50 years of age before 6am. The frantic search began. My parents went to the hospital to arrange. Meanwhile me and my sister (Bua's younger daughter) frantically called every one we could to come and donate. the hospital kept rejecting our donors on many counts and the clock kept ticking. i had, in between all this commotion, managed to tweet our urgent need and my number. honestly i didn't expect much out of it. what with it being the middle of the night and who would be kind enough to take the effort..that too on a twitter call.
But when every thing failed..twitter came to rescue. @ankitanks came all over from Rohini to Patparganj to donate blood. and he was the most compassionate person i had ever come across..just my age..22..ambitious...independent..and compassionate. it was so unreal..i found it hard to believe. but by morning...when all our donors had been rejected, and we had lost all faith...my phone rang. it was an sms by @itscreation. he msgd me the number of a service which provided us donors of any blood group we wanted. and it worked. we found another donor through it.
by sunrise. @ankitanks was here and he was fresh and bright. you can see him in the picture above, filling out the donor form. he sent his blood for testing by 7:45 and waited till 11:30 for the results. meanwhile my dad asked me about the status, and i said "the world is calling" ...all my tweeps were re tweeting my need, smsing me and calling me! @sparklinguy @kyrasinging2 and @itscreation kept calling me and helping me find donors and they did not rest until i told them that alas @ankitanks 's blood was the only blood that got accepted.
My buddy @waseembits who is also a doctor, n a twipal since real real long, called my sister and enquired about her health statistics and wished her well. He prays for her druing ramzaan.
Wow. what a world. complaining, as we go about our day, we one day do realize, that the goodness isn't yet dead. people are compassionate and human. people we need but do not deserve...like a silent guardian. i for one am proud of my generation. my dad is now proud too. May be it was this positive vibe that my Bua started recovering that very day. as of now she is on 82k platelets count and hopefully will fully recover soon. i have no words to describe how moved i was that day. people tweeting and apologizing for not having B+ blood group..asking again and again how is she. i don't care how good a write up this post is...this story deserves to be told.
i am scared to death by a needle...but come what may, i am a healthy person and i am now going to come out and donate. here is to the lost, derailed, fun loving, tweeting generation, it is also a giving generation. cheers to us. go out and donate. i am sure it will be a wonderful experience.
Monday, July 19, 2010
कहानी ख़तम है..या शुरुआत होने को है.. सुबह नयी है ये.. या फिर रात होने को है .. (This is NOT a film review)
Some places become just more than places in your life…they become you. Udaan is one such film that takes you back to such places. It was almost a memory extracted right from my brain when I saw the first scene of kids sneaking out of their dormitory as soon as the warden disappears. I didn’t go to Bishop Cotton School like them…but I sure was a boarder of Bishop Westcott. It is one such place that becomes me. Well, I sure didn’t cross the wall to watch “Kaanti Shaah ke Angoor”…but I did know quite a few teachers who might have!
It is a different feeling all together when you leave the hostel gates with a one way gate passes. Especially when you look behind at your friends, you partners in crime, and those walls around which you framed yourself. Udaan is a film that shows us what we did, what they did, and what they told us not to do. We and they; all did the same things none the less. It, oh so beautifully, splits open our own head and shows us what we are, what we were and what we yearn to be. Dazed and confused to the world, the teen heart, the teen mind, but also the most beautifully naïve and fresh, the teen mind, the teen heart. The bravest, not corrupted with the knowledge of dangerous and safe. Yes, the bravest indeed. Age is foolish and forgetful when it under estimates the youth (by J.K. Rowling).
I am no one to judge how good or how bad the film was. But I sure know that no one can deny the raw reality behind this film. The reality being responsibility. The responsibility that the young are ever so frequently reminded of, but the responsibility rarely practiced by the imparters. What can a teacher teach me, who screws around behind his wife? How can a father make his son, a man; when he himself is spineless? I am just one of the lucky few, who have a perfect father. But it’s time that the ticker skin, disguising his tyranny and hypocrisy with age, power an experience realize, that rebellion is not just a fashion today…we are born with it. It’s the basic jungle rule. Self preservation. Survival. If the one who gives you his flesh and blood thinks he can own you, and disfigure you; you can any day be at the liberty of disowning him.
Frankly I have no idea of what I am writing…but I have personally seen fathers screwing around with other women and expecting it to be the mother’s fault when his boy smokes. It’s the most blatant form of blasphemy. Either you fix him or fix yourself. Either let him bind you or take your own flight. But do not become him. Never blame your faults to be his. Once again I must say, I am blessed to have a father like mine…and feel sorry for those who have not got a father figure in their father. Go ahead. Set yourself free….take your flight of success. UDAAN.