We are all 'TRAPPED'

Note 1: God forbid what happened to Shaurya (A brilliant Rajkummar Rao) in Vikramaditya Motwane's 'Trapped' ever happen even to my worst enemy. Not that I even have friends to call my own in the first place, but you do get the drift of what I am saying.

Note 2: Bombay (Mumbai as it is now known as) is not a place that nurtures idiots. You earn your stripes by giving to the city, and in turn you earn your basic rights and other privileges.

Note 3: I never wanted to watch 'Trapped' - mostly because I am a happy guy talking about why I love the 'Rasam' or 'Garlic Naan' that Rani makes for me, far more than the 'Avial' she has perfected over the years. Eating ants and pigeons? AWAAKTHOOOO. That much anyone can imagine or see from what there is in the trailer already. Who pays to watch such stories? Well, I am one of those who do, if there are no dead insects, pests or birds involved. I even watched '127 Hours' - just saying.

The thing is that there's a trap - we are all trapped. Neither Bombay needs us, nor does Hindi cinema. Who are we? Why are we here? Is this because we are trapped? Who set the trap? Did we walk into it, perhaps like how Shaurya did in 'Trapped'? Why did Motwane make 'Trapped'? Did he want to liberate himself? Did Rajkummar want to taste blood? Literally or figuratively? I don't know. Should I bother to find out? Not my business, I think.

Watching 'Trapped' if you are in love with Bombay / Mumbai or the films made here, you will know that it is a HUGE trap. One doesn't even realise when we fall prey. It could be the keys to an empty room, the chance to date an engaged girl who might be getting married in a week or so, the chance to claim a piece of this city, however big or small,  as your own or even the privilege that you can expect an answer when you shout your loudest. The most horrific part of being here is that nobody wants to listen to you, as loud as you scream or shout.

Someone might hear you scream, but that doesn't mean anything - the noise of the city and the collective ones is so loud, he / she might just give up mid way. Most of the people here are tone deaf anyway. Hearing too much of radio does that to anyone of us. Perhaps the only way to drown out the cacophony of a city that doesn't even have the time to sleep. Just in case you do sleep, the sound of your dreams drown out anything else in the vicinity. You might not like this city, but when were you invited here in the first place? You came unannounced, so will be your exit.

If you don't belong here, neither the city likes you nor do the inhabitants.

PAV BHAAJI - the smell of it will remain if you have been in this city long enough. If very unfortunate, at worst you will savour the taste of Vada Pav or Dabeli long after you've settled back to the place that you came from, with or without the fortune that you came to make here. Can you shake up the City? Have you screamed loud enough? Did anyone hear you? Do they care? Do they want to see you again? The property guy who conned Shaurya in 'Trapped' knew his lessons way before hand.

This City has no place for fools.



  

     

OK Kanmani: Fell in love with The Mani Sir version 2.0

I am a sucker for films about eternal love and occasional longing. I know that genre is almost on it's way out, but with Imtiaz Ali around, there is hope for this genre. This blog is about how Mani Sir's latest film, OK Kanmani, turned me into a ball of mush, all over again. It is common knowledge now, that I am a mush ball 24X7. It just happened that I watched the trailer of 'The Tale of Tales,' and got GROSSED OUT and lost my mind for a bit.

Now I am back to my normal self - the eternal lover boy, who chooses to overlook anything that's dark, depressing or generally sad. I run miles away from people who reek of any kind of negativity.  Before I lose track of what I was saying, let me announce that I LOVED Mani Sir's reinterpretation of what perhaps was his earlier interpretation of love. Sir is catching up the changing times, and it is such an amazingly cool thing to do. Just like how Gulzar Saab does. The best part of this reinvention, is that the core or the soul is still as innocent. Not corrupted by the way today's generation speaks or thinks. May be I am just too old-school for today's cool.

When I introduce myself as a writer, I am usually asked, what is the genre I love writing the most. My answer usually is - love stories. Having said that, I know there is a dearth of fresh love stories. How far can one go anyway? Boy meets girl / girl meets boy / they love each other / hate each other / end up together / part ways. But in OK Kanmani, Mani Sir twists the conventional equation, and adds the magik of Rumi, the Sufi poet, to his story. I am not telling you how. Watch the film, and you'll know what I mean. I think there are a million love stories hidden in Rumi's works.

A bit random, but I think Dulquer Salman and Nithya Menon, are headed to becoming the proverbial 'Raj and Simran,' for a lot of kids who are coming of age. Especially those who watch regional films. Adding to the randomness, a BIG  shout out to my macha, Sethumadhavan aka Napan seth, aka the Don of Regional Sinima Mafia, who operates out of an underground den somewhere under Aurora Talkies (Matunga, Mumbai). His love for cinema is as epic as it gets. Let's get back to 'OK Kanmani' again. There's not much one can say about it, without taking away from the experience of watching it, just knowing enough from what's there in the trailer, as the makers would want us to...



One of the things that fascinated me among the gazillion others, is the way Mani Sir showcased Bombay. Coming from the man who made a film named Bombay, it came as a pleasant surprise. You don't see Bombay, you see Mumbai. You'll have to watch the film to know where I am coming from. The melting pot of cultures that this city is, there are times when we grin wide, when we hear somebody speak our native language. Aah my love for Bombay... Hope I am able to showcase it in one of the films that I write, but let me save that for some other day, some other blog.

Embarrassing as it may be for some, I don't like animation films, and I just can't stand superhero films where one guy or a bunch of people have to save the earth. I love films that are about normal people like you and me, on a regular day. Films like Anand, Khosla Ka Ghosla, Rocket Singh Salesman Of The Year, Do Dooni Chaar (in no specific order) tug at my heart strings. Mani Sir's OK Kanmani is one such film. Recently, film critic, Anupama Chopra worded my thoughts on films like 'Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara' and the yet to release 'Dil Dhadakne Do'; she slotted such films as the ones that address 'posh people problems,' and I was clapping gleefully, now that there is a genre like that, I can avoid watching altogether.

And what does one say about ARR's contribution to a film that he decides to give music to, and Mani Sir being his mentor, he is obviously biased. I swear even if there were no subtitles, I could feel the words in the music, and that's what music should do - transcend above the words, and still convey the underlying thought. I know I am taking away a lot from those who painstakingly put the words together, but what the hell! Somebody had to say it, so what if it had to be me. Not just the songs, even the BGM is worth being treasured. Special mention for Jr. Rahman, who makes his debut with Mani Sir, like how his dad did, back in the day -



Just to sum up my thoughts on 'OK Kanmani,' I will say that it's a wonderful film that celebrates love in the times that we live in. No cheap gimmickry, no forced swear words, rooted-yet-today, coming of age of a filmmaker, love is enough to get everything done... even if it means just a good film. Power and money are the uncouth devices employed, when love is lacking. Thoda meta ho gaya perhaps, but I am not trolling anybody on the sly. It's just a note to myself. It's strange, but after watching OK Kanmani, I felt like I revisited Gautham V Menon sir's, 'Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya.'

My 'kanmani' for this lifetime, Rani, thought I had lost it when I told her that I felt like Prakash Raj's look in 'OK Kanmani' was a hat-tip to Gulzar Saab. Watch the film and correct me if I am wrong.

Love, Magik.

CityLights: Some thoughts after watching the film

It was a first for me. The trailer of a film made me cry. It was that of Hansal Mehta's forthcoming film, CityLights. There was a connect and a solid one at that. A couple from a village migrating from a village to an urban landscape and dealing with the problems that come along. I am still talking about the trailer, not the film. For those few people who follow the blog know my love for Bombay, for the rest, read on… you'll know too. Now about the film:

My parents came to Bombay many decades ago, with a few bag full of clothes, utensils and some dreams in their eyes. I came into their lives a few years later. The strongest memory I have of me with my father is of him carrying me on his shoulders, running across a huge park, to take me to a doctor as I was unwell. Dad could have easily borrowed his friend's Bullet, but apparently I was too critically unwell. He ran the fastest he ever could. He saved my life. Baapu, I love you, yaar!

This is the thing about Bombay, if nothing else, it gives stories to people. Like one of my friends who had biked it all the way to Bombay from Mhow (MP) just to get Salman Khan's autograph. Did my friend get an autograph? Not just that, he got Bhaijaan's cap too, that he was wearing that eventful night. Bombay makes dreams come true. No matter how big or small. People come to Bombay, as if she was their mother. They know Bombay will take care of them.

"Yahaan koi bhookha nahin sota"

Just a few years ago, my best friend Amjad's brother, Umed, came to Bombay. He was a farmer in Rajasthan. Amjad got Umed bhai here so that he could do more than just farming and give his son, Zeeshan, a decent education. I saw Umedbhai in the character portrayed by Rajkummar Rao. Umedbhai, son of an army officer who chose to be a farmer, and was forced to come to Bombay to do more in life. Umedbhai usually sat on his haunches. Watch CityLights and you'll see how Rajkummar has owned the character Deepak Singh.

The new girl Patralekha, who plays Rajkummar's wife Rakhi, has done an equally great job as well. There is a scene in CityLights where the lead pair sit and cry about what life has done to them. That is inexplicably brilliant and made me cry enough to almost completely wet my shirt collar.  I think that was the moment I ran out of tears, as I couldn't cry during the rest of the film. My eyes were dry. Sometimes I wonder why filmmakers remake films, because almost everybody in Bombay has a story to tell. No matter what genre you are looking at…

In all fairness, I have my share of concerns or complaints with CityLights, but what shines brightest is the protagonist, Rajkummar Rao. The way he owns his characters, there are very few here who could have done that. This fabulous actor reminded me of Umedbhai, addressing people as 'Maalik' or 'Hukam' and sitting on his haunches, as if that is the most natural way to sit. Umedbhai once told me, "Bhaai, ek-do saal mein paise bana ke main waapas gaon chala jaaoonga."

A few months later, he did. Despite the fact that he wanted everything Bombay had in store for him and his young son. He just packed his bags and went back to his village in Rajasthan.

I always believed one can never leave Bombay, but Umedbhai did. He was too much of a simpleton. Just like Deepak Singh in CityLights. Some people can't survive Bombay, but some do. Perhaps this city isn't for everyone… CityLights is the story of a guy who, just like my father and Umedbhai, came here, didn't fit in and packed their bags and left one day, never to come back here again. My father still remembers every street and area in Bombay, which has obviously changed now.

Note to self: I should save these stories for my own version of this film's sequel or some such. 

Every time my father visits Bombay, he has stories tell me about this magical city. Sometimes I think he still wants to live here, but he is scarred, because there is a price to pay for choosing to dream, or to dream bigger than your boots. Baapu is now happy in Indore, he has sworn never to relocate to Bombay. But I still think he loves this city. I am sure he does. The way he fondly talks about Bombay, he perhaps wants to come back here… But he has learned his lesson the hard way.

Bombay is not for everybody. Not everybody is a dreamer. And sometimes, some dreams are too meagre for Bombay to make 'em true.  Not everybody can deal with Bombay.

I love Bombay.

"Yahaan koi bhookha nahin sota"

If you've missed the trailer of CityLights, here it is:

 

Disclaimer: This is not a review of CityLights, just some random thoughts...   

Bheed badh gayi hai...

A Keyrun Rao Original

Kuchh aur hi tha yeh shehar, log kam aur khwab zyaada
Waqt badal gaya, aur pakka hi ho chala sab ka iraada
Koi jism bechta hai, kuchh ki toh rooh girwi hai yahaan
Samajh nahin aata ab, kaun baadshah hai kaun piyaada

Bheed badh gayi hai yahaan, koi khaali jagah hai kahaan?
Kisine mandir banaaya, koi masjid peechhe chhod gaya
Us se milne ke raaste itne, phir bhi bahut waqt lag gaya
Saaye nahin dikhte hain aaj-kal, kya ho raha hai yahaan?

Dost mil jaate hain aksar, khud toh kahin kho chuke hain
Is shor mein sach kahein toh, hum behre hi ho chale hain
Pata nahin kab suney apni dhadkan, usey mehsoos kiya ho
Badi si is bheed mein, ab hum bhi shaamil ho chale hain

Kuchh khwaab le kar aaye, kuchley dekhey apne hi saaye
Aansoo nikal to rahe magar, ponchhne ka waqt kaise laaye
Kuchh rishte ban bhi gaye, phir kyon jald hi hue paraaye
Jo samjha hai is dard ko, aaj bas wo hi humein samjhaaye


Bheed badh gayi hai yahaan, koi khaali jagah hai kahaan?
Kisine dukaan lagaayi, kuchh logon ne bhookh mitaayi
Bade-badon ne rutba kamaaya, kuchh ne pyaas bujhaayi
Jee lete hain baaqi sab, kuchh ajeeb sa hi hai apna jahaan

Waqt nahin hai kisi ke paas, na hai ishq ka koi bhi jazba
Jeene-marne ki dhun mein, laga hua hai apna yeh kasba
Ab apne saayon pe mat chalo, kisi ko yun bhi na kuchlo
Aane waali nasl ko chalo dein koi naya achcha sa tajurba