Master and the Disciple

When you have lost sight and lost to life, when you dont see any reason for your own existence and that of the world's and when you are on your last false splurge before you plan to end it all! What could happen then? Possibly, a sad and predictable end. But not if you had Charlie Simms as your companion and you were Col. Frank Slade. It could end starkly different. Hope would never be lost. Power of one capable individual and how he could bare the nakedness of an entire ignorant society, would never cease to exist. Scent of a Woman is a classic story told - of this hope and strong will winning over depression and gloom that pervades our mortal beings.

Al Pacino in his class act as blind colonel Slade and Chris O Donnell as his fateful companion and disciple take you through a journey of lifetime. Only the school is school of life and lessons are from unwritten books of integrity and values. Colonel is a retired, deeply hurt and blind man who has no reasons to live his life. He knows it but he wont confess to it. Too much to swallow for his big ego. In comes Charlie simms. A school going teenager, who needs a few extra bucks to meet his ends. He is appointed babysitter for the blind colonel on his journey to NY. A journey which he has planned to be his last. On the way, Colonel takes to mentoring this "kid" into a man. Trying to teach him about life. And how? By making him understand the essence of Scent of a Woman. How each woman has a different fragrance from other, how each one of them is a fantastic creation of God and how each one of them is an elixir for so many human pains. And not only does he tell him this. He makes him feel it. By dancing tango with a beautiful woman who is very sad and making her smile. By blind driving Ferrari in busy streets and yet not scratching it. By asking hotel manager to fill up stacks of John Daniell's in his room.

Each of these acts - a standing reinforcement to belief called 'life'. But underneath this spirit of him lies a dead soul. Having lost to everything and ready to die. But this is where director Martin Brest paints his masterstroke. The disciple turns into a teacher. Not letting the master die. Very convincingly, Charlie makes Colonel realise how important his life is to him and for everyone around him. He rips through tall walls of his ego and touches the human within. And Colonel's dead soul is reborn. Charlie saves a man from his impending death. He saves his dying soul - enriching it with fulfillment and infusing it with a purpose to live. They come back. The journey is about to end but for an incident. Simms' career is in jeopardy because he wont rat on misdeeds of his classmates. He is about to be thrown out of his school because he is a misfit. Not a Baird Man. A committe meets to decide on the fate of this young boy. But it is almost predecided that he will be expelled. And then Al pacino delivers performance of a lietime. The way he talks about hollowness of the whole process, exposes the meaninglessness of an entire insititution called education and authenticates simple yet most important human value - integrity is an act of a master. An act that still lives fresh in your memory. An act that has immortalised Pacino forever. An act that made a whole generation sit back, stop in their tracks and think about the whole meaning of a gift called human life and purpose of it.

Watch this movie for sheer brilliance of its script, simplicity of execution and force of characters it portrays. Telling, in very powerful yet simple words, the essence of a meaningful life and leaving an imprint forever. Watch it to believe that an individual's values are stronger than a society's crumbling beliefs. And telling all this so effortlessly. While trying to explain how each of the women has a very distinct fragrance and how you could tell one from the other by their smell. How Scent of a Woman tells her character! Only a master could enact it. And a master did it flawlessly.

Dance of Spring

When I thought she would never dance again

In came spring, lifting her depressed dark soul

She no longer felt old; no more drew nothing on

Her spirits lifted, soaring high, she was on a song.

Resurrection

One streak of flickering fading light held by dark night
reflecting itself often on a rippling quiet faroff lagoon.
A loud bark of a dog killing an otherwise errie silence;
unseen wanderers trailing their own unsure lost steps.
Nothing seems sure when it will be as it was before.

But dark is fading,drowning the silence it lived in.
Brightness leading thousand footsteps on a hopeful trail;
Sound growing on its own silence, turning into music.
With a spring in steps & hope in every breathing spirit.
A canvass of colorful light streams out from forlorn,
forever taking away the dark silence that never lived on.

A Lasting Touch

A movie to watch, according to most critics, is one which leaves you with an impression and an unanchored opinion. But what if you watched it long time back? A time when you probably could not even comprehend the level of complexities that critics spin. A time when you probably were still growing up to catch up with the "mature world". The rule is you just do nothing. Leave it. Do not ruminate over. This is precisely I ended up doing with Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa.

Starring sensibly brilliant ( not a very common occurrence anymore) Shahrukh Khan, never seen again Suchitra Krishnamoorty, enchanting Goga Kapoor and others who I dont remember, this movie is a lasting touch on your senses. I was just 15 years old when I saw it for the first time. Never saw it again. But it is still fresh in my mind. Sheer brilliance of script, simplicity of screenplay, natural acting of cast and relevance to real life makes it such a beautiful work. But all this apart, what I love in this movie is its theme. It presents a wonderful tale of aspirations, dreams, desires and envy that comes so natural to every youngster. And all this presented in a very harmless and uncunning manner. Trying to tell all this in such a simple manner and still convey it all is the real kill of this movie. Not to forget the songs which are ageless and hummable till date.

With a band of young boys who are trying to put together a performance so that they get a chance to perform at the local club, this movie picks its pace right at the go. Then meandering through their dreams, aspirations of their families, desires of their lives and quest for romance, this movie does not let you go. Shahrukh Khan stars as a young Mr. X ( I dont remember his name in the movie) who is over ambitious and under rated by all. But he has his own dreams and a dreamworld to live in. Nothing rubs him and he lives for a day which will redeem him. He is in love with a girl who does not understand his love at all. His bandmates do not understand him, his family does not understand him, his neighbours do not understand him. He is a complete non entity. All of them know him but none understands him. Surrounded by everyone, he is all alone. And irony does not end here. Of all the people one who understands his genuineness is a local gangster played by Goga Kapoor. What a subtle sarcasm!

But this guy is not deterred. He is not empty. He is an eternal optimist and ever hopeful. He lives for that one moment which will give him everything. Music, the girl he discreetly loves, appreciation of his parents and a recognised life. He is not afraid and he is not shy. He is just incapable and he is genuine. He is not shrewd, not cunning not envious nor is he conniving. Just full of desires but incapable and genuine. Despite that always cheerful and full of life. A bad combination.

I was reminded of this movie today after an age. While listening to one of its songs. As a child it really touched me somewhere. Something within me changed back than. At that very instance. I dont know what and I dont know why. But it was so close to real. I time travelled. I saw something that was going to be a part of life much later. Everybody's. This movie moves through so many shades of young life called "desire" and ends at a point which I call "redemption". I took a cue.

Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa still lives within me. I dont want to watch it again. First time, I found a treasure. And with time things change. So does your opinion about everything in life. That is a treasure I dont want to touch. I fear, it might evaporate. Engulfed in a haze of commercial life and over zealous sense of rationality that I have painstakingly acquired over these years, it might loose its original sense it made to a kid. But if you have not seen it, go and do it. So far I am concerned, I want it to be as it is. Untouched, beautiful and a lasting touch on my senses.

Circa then untill now

Not a long while When I used to sit there laughing;

Feeling summer's warm loo & dusty chips off the pave

Drawing winter's warmth from last lit lantern's wick

Brushin dragonflies touchin my soarin sweaty dreams.

Not a short while ago when I sat here trying to laugh

Feeling the chill of very cold breeze I flew off with

Pegged to a wooden stool, Gorki in my thoughts beneath

With a cappuchino in my hands,once in a while,I smile.

Colors

Red, blue, green, azure, indigo, eternal black and all encompassing - white. Each of these have a story of their own to tell. These are not dead colors. They live and breathe. Like one of our own. They just dont paint this world and the world beyond. They paint our emotions, give a tint to what already exists within realms and are true manifestations of everything within and without.

Once upon a time, when very first apple was eaten in garden of bliss, the eater got thrown out. He landed up at someplace which was all white. All over the horizon, as far as the vision took thoughts to, it was all colorlessly white. That was when it all began. Walking aimlessly on these snowed terrains, he met pink. Love blossomed. White was about to loose its identity, its virginity. It got sprayed with pink and the terrain gained many more hues. Time elapsed. Many of these shades were still emerging. White was happy. It was no longer alone in this big world. It now had companions. Blue was there to help quench all the desires. Blue was swift, shapeless and supportive. They made a good match. Made for each other. They knew their limitations. White would not venture in blue's territory and blue, like a real child, would come across and play at the feet of white.

Theirs was not the world to keep. As world grew and as more inhabited it, many more shades shaped up. With a desire for white and lust for pink, they started looking for a tool. Lurking in a corner, gaining shape was black. It always existed. It was gaining life now. It needed a reason to come out of hibernation. It started finding some. With increasing species, it had ample. Aided by green and powered by red it began its long march. Green would always make it suspicious. Giving it a reason to disturb the tranquil white. Pepped up by green, red would be black's brother in arm. Black would design and red would strike. More sprays, more betrayals, more anger, more seething, more evil. That was the hallmark of red. Red and black marched on. Stamping the world of white and blue. Pink would watch helplessly and indigo could not do any thing. Once in a while when black would rest, yellow would sprout. Giving an illusion that not all was over. Harmony still existed. Orange will help yellow set up bases and it would try to put life back into all that was almost burnt by seeth of red and march of black. But all that would never live long. Black would rise up again. Like a magic monster. And yellow, orange, pink- each one of these would become groundless.

This was the rule of game. Play of colors. Not as we know it and think it is. But as it actually is. Since the first descent and the first march. Eternal black against all encompassing white. Black was fiery and powerful, aided by green and dead red. White was assimilating and tolerant. All other colors - violet, indigo, blue, orange, pink -would walk arm in arm and merge into white. Giving White a reason to run against crusading march of black and its allies.

The march of black continues till date. Overriding and powerful. A hint of restoration comes up once in a while. With white and its friends gaining ground. But not long enough. Black rises up again and all gets lost.

Even today, White is patiently waiting. Enveloping and protecting so many other colors. Hoping that someday it would put an end to the march of black.

The Big Issue

'You wont find any beggars there!', quipped someone even while I was collecting my boarding pass at Mumbai airport for a Sydney outbound. Over the time I forgot what that person said to me.Untill one fateful day. Untill one flicker of a moment. A true moment of revelation. I will try leading you on to what it led me to. That was a fine monday morning. Clear and azure winter sky. No drizzles, no hair ruffles. While crossing over Darling harbour bridge I was cheked in my stride. By a man who would not be more than 35 years.



" Excuse me brother! Would you want a copy of The Big Issue? This comes free to you and you get a further subscription discount."
I was getting late for my work and politely refused him. He started looking out for someone else and I carried on.



Just other day, while out on my lunch, I met this guy. His name is Sky. Actually Yun Wong. Also known as Sky. A wonderful violin player, I have seen him playing at Martin Place on many afternoons. He plays and people drop coins in his case. I am sure he makes atleast 20 bucks a day. There are others. These two I had a chance to talk to and I know their names. Others are just nameless faces to me. One school guy playing flute, another homeless shoeshine man, a group of hip hop artists trying to collect money for an LA trip and on and on and on. List is endless. And I see them everyday. Same place, same time, doing the same thing. Unaffected by the changing world around them.



Back to what we were talking about. So, one weekend when I was cleaning my room I saw my boarding pass. The sight of it brought on the moment. You wont find any beggars there. It echoed through my senses. And reality struck. How do we define beggars? Who are they? Non entities or existing? Faceless or clueless? Real or dream? I could not find a suitable answer. Because untill today even I knew the wrong meaning of this word. Actually, they are none. They dont exist. We have taken great pains to conjure up this word and its meaning. And through generations it has found examples amongst us. It is just a vent to one of our inferior sides. We want to be superior and placed higher. We want to be better than the best. Looks like we have taken to our heart Darwin's 'Survival of the fittest'. We all need some help, some support or some anchor in our lives. Be it in any form. But most of us dont get obvious. Yet there are a few who are visible to our naked eyes. Because they are not fittest. They are not privileged. Either by their birth, abilities, opportunities or luck. So they come out in open. To ask others for a helping hand. We chose to call them beggars. Most of us dont ask for help because we can survive without being obvious. Some cant. And we draw advantage of our status. A needless pleasure and some self reclaim. We call them beggars, throw alms and get going.



I dont know what this means. I am also clueless. But one thing I know. We are in a symbiotic existence. We need this system and system needs us. Being needy is no shame and being advantaged is no achievement. There is a bigger issue here. The man with copies of Big Issue in his hands is no issue at all. This idea of self deceit is an issue. The complacency, that we are self suffcient, is an issue. Are we capable of deceiving this feeling of self deceit? We need to be equal givers and equal beggars. 'Can we do it?' is the issue.