Show and Tell: notes from a seminar on "Cinema and Literature"

Last week, I (along with a couple of fellow itinerants) attended a seminar on Cinema and Literature jointly organised by the Film & Television Institute of India (FTII) in Pune and the Film Writers Association (a trade union mainly of Bollywood writers). The idea was interesting: to explore the relationships between cinema and literature (sometimes symbiotic, sometimes parasitic). There was also the appealing prospect of watching (gawking?) and listening to people this blogger is quite a fan of.

The opening ceremony saw bodies spilling out of the little FTII auditorium (we had to uncomfortably stand/squat/sit for about 4 hours that day). The principal reason for the interest was perhaps the presence of both Gulzar and Javed Akhtar. True to perception, the former's speech contained the romance of wordplay as well as some pithy observations from film & lit history, while the latter made some strident points without mincing words. Akhtar spoke of the cinema-lit connection involving a love triangle: that of the audience, which affected what was adapted and how it was received. Refering to the ghastly 80s when mainstream Hindi films hit their nadir, he drew a connection between "sarkailo khaTiyaa" and "sarkailo masjid". Gulzar, on the other hand, asked whether it was necessary to be so aware of the audience all the time, and preferred films & literature to dance their duet. He asked an interesting question: how would cinema be if sound hadn't crept in? Would people still come looking to literature, now that words were not needed?

A common reference point throughout the two days was Saratchandra's Devdas, both in terms of number of adaptations, as well as its recency. Gulzar (or was it JA?) refered to it by pointing out that once upon a time Devdas would have been the lowest common denominator of its times! In the session on novel adaptations, Anurag Kashyap didn't bother trying to justify his choices too much - he described how he went about it. In general, there were two kinds of speakers: 'theorists' (usually writers, who spent a lot of time bemoaning adaptations and musing on its fickle nature) and 'practitioners' who seemed to be 'doing' things, trying them out, failing, learning, and moving on. It was the second category that produced the most engaging talks, and Kashyap was one of them.

A writer who spoke wonderfully, and had contrarian views to Kashyap, was Mamta Kalia. But in all, the sessions on novels, short stories and folklore were disappointing. A majority of panelists kept regressing to existential arguments (such as splitting hairs on words like 'inspiration' and 'adaptation', and didn't spend much time in discussing the nuts-and-bolts or challenges of these respective forms). Shama Zaidi tried to show some examples of how changes were made for Shatranj Ke Khiladi, but spoiled things by being too petulant and dismissive. Even the second day's session on mythology kept tracing issues of history and philosophy, but unlike the earlier sessions, it was considerably livened by a set of excellent speakers.

It helped that Kamalahassan was chairing the session. He didn't make a speech of his, but kept insisting the atheist in him was spoiling for a fight on the topic. Gollapudi Maruthi Rao, noted Telugu actor, spoke eloquently on the history of mythology in films (appropriately so; I think the Telugu film industry has made the best use of that material). Kamalahassan then made one his many clever sound-bite interjections: "According to me, mythology is spiritual cosmetic surgery for history; makes the truth more palatable". The man knows how to press all the right buttons on an audience!

Dr. Devdutt Patnaik was the next speaker, and he delivered a very interesting talk. Once a man of medicine, he's now a 'mythologist' and carries the rather exotic title of "Chief Belief Officer" at the Future Group. He spoke of mythology as the 'truth' of a culture, compared Western films about religion with Indian ones, and then plunged into an analysis of 'sanatan' vs social truths (which I found a little slippery to grapple with). At some points, it seemed he was about to invoke Hindu-glory-of-the-past (Kamal later quipped that he thought Patnaik was going to start distributing prasad on stage), but to his credit, he stayed on the side of sobreity throughout. I recommend a look at his presentation, which is available on his website here.

In response, Kamalahassan mentioned how he liked films that tried to be subversive about accepted wisdom, particularly mythology, and cited the example of (one of my favourite movies) The Life of Brian by Monty Python. He spoke of films like Hey! Ram into which elements of the Ramayana are interwoven. And did he blush ever so slightly when someone praised Dashavataram? The man is worth paying to go and listen to, I think.

The last session, the one on drama & plays, was the most well-rounded one: the speakers spoke both of theory and craft. Playwright Mahesh Elkunchwar spoke lucidly about his two experiences of writing his plays for film, as well as dealing with different constraints in the two media. Asghar Wajahat did the same later. Govind Nihalani, who directed Party from an Elkunchwar script, gave the view from the other side. Dr. Jabbar Patel spoke extensively of his collaborations with Vijay Tendulkar and Gulzar, and mentioned that in plays, it was the writer who ruled, while film was the director's medium.

Vishal Bhardwaj also spoke, but this is already such a long post that I've forked that encounter off into a separate post here.

In summary, it was a mixed set of talks. I liked something that Prof.U.R.Ananthamurthy said in his talk: that finally, all that really matters is how engaging the film (and I generalise it to all art) is for the individual viewer - whether you understand the content or crib about the fidelity of the film to the book is not all that important.

Times of India reports: Day 1, Day 2

Soft skills

Mulayam Singh Yadav has been in some lukewarm water with the Election Commission over a speech of his in which he was shown as saying, among others,:

"She (the District Magistrate of Mainpuri, his constituency) is a woman and that is why I am not making any comments on her. She should get her brain checked and should be aware of the fact that Mulayam is contesting from here (Mainpuri)", Singh was shown by local news channels as saying at the rally.

(source)

Among other improprieties, this comment has been found to be sexist because it makes references to the gender of the person involved. An observation here is that the comment is indeed sexist, but not misogynistic. In fact, the UP chief minister is kind enough to refrain from making further comments (untoward, we can guess) about the lady precisely because she is a lady. One would not like to imagine the fate of any male DM in her place.

One can see why Mr. Yadav opposes reservations for women in Parliament - it would severely cramp his style.

He's always on a tangent

The adventures of English in India have always been exciting to observe. Yet another reminder was served up today when a colleague received a rather innocuous email:

Dear [so-and-so],
Please find the attachment of resume. He is my cosine brother. He is in a software Eng.

One could not help but laugh (Harish had tears streaming down his face).

On reflection, this spelling makes a lot of phonetic sense. Initially, I thought this was a case of "when spell-checkers go wild". But thanks to the wisdom of "English is a very funny language" (a.k.a अंग्रेजी बड़ी अवैज्ञानिक भाषा है), I can see why there would be quite a few Indians making that mistake (as this Google search shows).

Thanks to Niranjan for inspiring the headline

Bomb-Holé

An astonishingly common typo seen these days is the use of the word "diffusing" in the context of taking the fizz out of a bomb. Google returns 41,700 search results for "diffuse bomb". Even respected newspapers occasionally spread the shrapnel, as seen in this article (unless the man quoted saying that spelt it out for the reporter).

I hope it doesn't gain currency like "revert". That would make it a deficult situation.

Dal-chini bhai bhai

Chandni Chowk to China could so easily have been titled Singh is Qing.

Memento, but not so mori

It's fading again. Refresh.

I'm not from Bombay. I belong to a place to its south-east, a place known (and sometimes ridiculed) for its smallness (of its size, of its ambition), its insipid rains, its lack of drive (and drive-ability), its surfeit of action-less opinions, and its cynicism. In short, its un-Bombay-ness. But it suits my temperament.

I've lived in Bombay for a total of 9 years. I don't understand the people there very well, the things they do to live in a place like that. But neither did I understand why my step quickened as soon as I set foot on its roads, why I never worried about how I would get to place B from A at any time of the day, or how friends there seemed a lot more willing to take on everyday grit. I don't know anything about the city's phantoms that get invoked each time something goes wrong, but how about something called 'the idea of Bombay'? That exists for sure. Anything that's been around for that long develops an all-permeating idea that its citizens buy into.

That idea is worth protecting, just as other good ideas are.

Set a reminder? An entry in your diary? A big X on your tear-off calendar?

There's a lot of anger. Distress. Finger-wagging. I'd like to blame people too. But I'd like to start with myself.

I do not participate in society's affairs beyond the usual limits. But is that such a bad thing? I'd like to lead my life the way I want to. All I ask for is the security and freedom to do so. I pay my taxes by means of earning an honest income. I have voted in every election since I turned 18. I am aware of traffic rules. I even sign online petitions when the urge takes me. Sure, I don't stand for elections or participate in rallies. I don't know what it would take for me to become more 'activist' - perhaps I never will. But I'm making a reasonable contribution to the land I happened to be born in.

But I do forget easily. Leave aside doing something about them, I don't even know what the progress has been in previous cases of distress to affect India. It fades away from memory. Who do you blame? Life is perennially news-worthy, so the news-men have to write about those things. My own life demands my attention like an impatient child. So who is awarded the contract to keep track? We think those faceless bureaucrats and in-your-face politicos ought to. But I can't tell if they are doing a good job or not - perhaps they foiled 99 major attacks, perhaps they were incompetent enough to let through the only attack ever attempted. I simply don't have all the information.

A tattoo! That's the answer. (Stop it now - don't be flippant).

So I ask myself: how will you not forget? How can you blame the others if you don't even remember to finger-point? It's quite possible people 'out there' are keeping an eye out, on my behalf. As a member of the un-involved masses, I'm going to try and change my own state of ignorance.

People have been saying: "we will not forget", "We will be there every week". I hope they do. But I find it hard to believe they will, and cross a certain critical threshold. Unless their lives change fundamentally in order to accomodate this zeal. It's hard to be that possessive about anger. So all I, inert participant with the limited means at my disposal, will try to do is this: each month's 26th, I will write a short post on this blog, summarising all that I will have read and tracked about in that month about what is happening re: the November attacks. I'll also try to note what the others, who have promised to remember, have done. I have no idea where I'll begin, for I have no capacity for primary research here. Perhaps on most occasions, I will only announce, yet again, my failure to do even this simple task. But I will try. If this menial task is beyond me, why speak of loftier goals?

The day in 1949 the Constitution of India was passed? Nope.

For me, 'terrorism' could be anything that scares me out of conducting my life in a reasonably independent manner. In essence, rioters, dangerous traffic conditions, gun-toting extremists, do all this. Of course, one is unlike another, and for most people, an external threat is more dangerous, with a bigger outcry. If the people of Bombay could show us how to tackle big demons, perhaps we little cousins might summon up the initiative to take on our lesser evils.

Back to the idea of Bombay. Cities change over a period of time, but Bombay's ideas have been steadfast. Others in the country seem to be (regrettably) leaving behind their own ideas and copying some of Bombay's. But all the more reason to nurture the original, for who knows what will take its place if that idea goes missing.

Finally, I'm not from Bombay. But there must be some traces of it in me. I was born in Bombay. On the 26th of November. The latest entrant to a list of dates that will live in infamy. But forever? Hopefully, some day we won't need to rememeber.

Dot, dot - who's there?

Ever notice how a lot of people (especially Indian neti-jans) seem to use a lot of ellipses in casual text? (passing aside: commentary applies to only those who are textually active).

I mean sentences like these:

umm the colour combo is great. black and green.....
if you fix the terrible things above it will be good....

In fact, it's more than the average three act ellipsis. You see a lot of mutant dot trails, leading to what I call 'comet sentences'. And in cases such as

the width need to be increased....too small....include some letters.....(at the side)

the author is loath to ever decisively finish a sentence, or even let go in the middle of it. Breathlessly, he holds on to both phrases, joining them in dotted lexical forms.

Now, since I deal with text for a living, I can either rail against such punctured notation, or I can try learning to deal with it, even if with clip on nose. Following language literature, we see evidence of several such mutations on a regular basis. Our reading also tells us that many of the language styles and meanings we cling to dogmatically today would have been blasphemes from the past. Elliptical prose is perhaps the same.

What I do wonder of course, is how this started, and why many people have taken to it naturally. What is the linguistic, economic or even evolutionary advantage of doing so, assuming there is no aesthetic reason for doing so?

Bol Bachchan

He's good. Amitabh Bachchan has been blogging for almost a month, and as noted by one very devoted fan¹, he writes well. But more importantly for a celeblogger, the opinions seem to flow straight from those long fingers (via a Macbook). The punches that would sweep aside life members of Bollywood's Hall of Shame on screen aren't being held back.

The timing was interesting. AB has been in the news for much of this year², and crucially, much of it has been aimed at him personally or has just been obnoxious³. The feeling of 'being used', especially by the media, perhaps tipped over a pain threshold. It's a different thing that the same media has now switched to using the blog and its posts as fodder, but at least followers of the actor can cut the middlemen out. For a man protecting his dignity and his family, not to mention his 'brand', this is an astute move.

Not just 'shanivaar ki raat Amitabh ke saath'
More than the intensity, the frequency of the posts has come as a surprise. There is usually one entry each day (typically overnight), and sometimes follow-ups. The posts have occasionally slipped into overly sensitive refutations at times. But Amitabh is at his best when dipping into old memories, recalling his esteemed father, or providing mundane minutiae about a profession that I have always considered to be one of the most boring in terms of daily routine.

Footnotes:
[1] We do wonder if the fan got a response to his comment?
[2] A spike on Google Trends confirms this.
[3] The notorious Aaj Tak Amitabh Bachchan ko tha.Nd lagii 'Breaking News'.

Gaudy, Gaudy Nights

I am perhaps the person Lalit Modi's mom told him to beware of in life: sceptical to the point of cynicism, immune to his well-coffered slick Bollywoodised charms, perhaps just unreasonably biased against messiahs like him. But shrewd man that he is, he would have realised in a jiffy that the yelps from my kind can be easily disregarded :-). Anyway, we both must do what we must, and I must present the following annoyances about the recently rocket-launched Indian Premier League.

Branding So far, the franchises seem to be a branding fiasco. For an event of this size and depth, most of the team names have shown an appalling lack of creativity, typified by the defaulting of two teams to "Kings". Much of the livery seems straight out of a Warhol-Govinda joint venture and the batsmen of the Kolkata Knightriders in particular look as if King Midas ran amok and couldn't keep his hands to himself. Combine it with a fairly tacky TV production and you sometimes wish the floodlights would go out more often. What is also surprising is the inability of marketers to provide a local identity for the teams, given the putative city associations. Even hockey's PHL managed to do a better job, if only with the team names.

Moderation Though to expect any form of moderation in this event is as naive as expecting Ranjeet-of-the-movies to voluntarily ask the hero's sister to tie him a rakhi. All the investors have pumped in money times-multiple in the hope of making it back over a period of time, so it was inevitable that they'd go over the top wooing the cash home. In particular, this leads to an extremely uncomfortable TV viewing experience, with overs snipped off and virtually no time to see the next batsman trot up or to watch what the captains are trying to do. The ads crowding the screen real estate would embarass the local cablewallahs. Why aren't we ever able to strike an efficient balance between class and crass? The tragedy is that the silent viewing millions can be taken for granted. It's a shocker.

The lack of moderation is also evident in the almost frenzied insistence by all commentators and public figures involved that the event "rocks". Also, I find the relentless nature of the games (almost one each day) to be way too much. I'd have found it easier to whip up enthusiasm for a spaced out schedule leading upto big weekend games. The league, otherwise, is in danger of being one big blur over a duration that came in for criticism in a World Cup only last year.

The English news channels have devoted a large chunk of their daily coverage to covering such breaking news items such as the fall of the eight wicket. Lessons of ratio and proportion were last seen only in the 8th standard arithmetics textbook.

Differentiation If you leave aside the cosmopolitan squads, what's different about the cricket being played? I couldn't tell the difference between any ordinary one dayer or T20 match and these IPL matches. It hasn't quite revolutionised the game by itself - the only attempts at 'innovations' are in the marketing. Therefore, the cricket isn't compelling by itself. In addition to my favourite peeve about the fragmented TV coverage, I find myself drifting off very easily. An engrossing football match in comparison keeps you glued, because the action is seamless and momentum shifts can be engineered in seconds. The 4 minute over is a boon to advertisers, but the speed of the game on the field still does not translate well to the living room, with the content being 'filtered' so poorly.

Another reason why the IPL seems all too familiar is because the same band of bumbling commentators can be heard on the air. From Rameez Raja to Ranjit Fernando, it's the same pack of tired cliches and retired insights. The best of the lot seems to be the Zimbabwean Pommie Mbangwa who though mundane, can at least generate some zeal periodically.

What I've also realised that the game desperately needs to maintain its bag of contrasts: the true worth of an Andrew Symonds' muscular hitting can be realised only when set against a Katich driving down the ground; one can appreciate a fighting innings from Dravid only when Sehwag has been unable to stay alive on that spiteful pitch. For everything to disappear over long stop is to paint a picture only in greyscale.

Independent Voices And then there are the likes of the omnipresent Gavaskar and Shastri who seem to be doing everything in the IPL baaraat from organising to commentary to firefighting. The fact that almost everyone we hear opinions from is associated in some way or the other with the IPL hasn't been highlighted very prominently (read this cogent article by Ashok Malik on the topic). That many of these commentators now work directly for the BCCI can be seen to seriously compromise any objectivity they need to bring to their coverage. This may be selective memory, but I couldn't not recall hearing any expressions of shock about that beach of an Eden Gardens pitch by any of the commentators during the match.

It also doesn't augur well that over the last couple of years, Hindi and English news channels have completed some kind of self-identification exercise with cricket: witness the liberal use of "we" and "us" in referring to the Indian team. Granted that the IPL indeed is an event of gargantuan proportions, but what causes unease is a lack of all-round objective scepticism. (As an aside, I have been watching Marathi news channels these days to get my daily dose of news, and would heartily recommend them for old-fashioned current affairs).

All this said, in all fairness, there have been several good points so far: seeing McGrath land his very first ball on the spot, Shane Warne today, the chance to hear about and see the likes of Ojha, Saha, Dinda as well as some of the lesser-known Aussies, to name a few. I do not know if the razzmatazz has at least made proceedings interesting to the spectators at the grounds (perhaps some of these fellows will be able to tell me next week). Perhaps if you could simmer in those three hours without having to repeatedly watch a dog lick stamps every six balls, you might have a different view. The very nature of the form of the game is that teams can also be shut out of the match too easily if the sweet spot (from the audience's pov) of 150-180 runs isn't reached in the first innings. However, from an economic and sociological point of view, the IPL is immensely interesting.

And finally, ever notice how this is turning out to be quite a decade for Modis? You can't guarantee anything in sport or politics, but so far their brand of heavily engineered change, fuelled by self-importance, is on the ascendancy.

G'mla kaa H'mla

Google's April Fool jokes can sometimes try too hard and end up tired, but this year's effort from Google Australia is quite clever and culturally relevant. G'd on you, lads.

Gap Analysis

Gap Analysis

hamaare aur aapke biich me.n ek baDaa #gap# jo hai. #Generation Gap, after all!#

- Laxman "Lucky" Prasad Sharma to Bhavani Shankar Prasad, 'Golmaal'

The definition of the size of 'a generation' is somewhere between 25 to 30 years. But even within a single generation, several significant things change and are very interesting to observe. A little list to identify those from my sub-generation:

1.Rotary Dial phones: As much of a retronym like its recent cousin, the "land-line", these kinds of phones, usually black or in colours more appropriate for bathroom tiles, where you could watch the dial spin down have indeed disappeared. Its last refuge was the PCO booth, which itself struggles for survival these days. I remember watching TV serials where the astute sleuth could figure out the digits of a phone number just by listening to the sound or measuring the time between two numbers. Zero had the least importance in terms of hogging footage, as it was closest to base camp. The punch-button phones have bought in a sense of democracy among the numbers. If you can remember using rotary phones on a regular basis (that is, if you had a telephone at home after long years of being waitlisted), welcome to our sub-generation.

2.Black and white, sepia photographs: You're a kid, hair slicked down, in someone's arms or in the first row, thumb inserted somewhere. The medium is black and white, or a shade of brown. The nearest male has sideburns the size of an Amazon rainforest, the frames of your aunt's spectacle were made out of eight kilos of charcoal plastic. Nostalgia is best served greyscale.

3. s/'sexy'/'baby'/g: Leaving aside mobile phones and internet access and foreign cars, the biggest cultural change that I have witnessed is in the liberation of the word "sexy" in Hindi films. Even then, the stars (Kamal, Aamir) indulged openly in on-screen "lip" kissing (usually leading high sales of Filmfares, questions in Parliament, self-immolation attempts by lipstick manufacturers), so the trend that we see these days where people even in TV ads manage to steal a peck at the back of a car was quite "linear" and hence to be expected. However, if you were part of a generation that watched the supremely kitschy Superhit Muqabla (who even tried a version of the Grammies called the SUMO awards that awarded everything from "Best Remixed Ghalib Ghazal" to "Best Teen Taal rendition by an Octopad in an Usha Uthup Show"), you would recall the mighty double blow to Indian culture that was dealt by the Dulaaraa and the Paapii GuDiyaa. Govinda "One Tight Slap" Ahuja pre-empted the days of sexy kurtiis by declaring everything (yes everything!) on him was "that dirty word ending with a 'y', starting with an 's', with a 'x' and a 'e' thrown in for free, which isn't 'sxey'". It caused a huge uproar. I'm not joking. Around the same time, Karisma "That is Harish, not me" Kapoor expressed a view (in a fairly decent tune, actually), in a voice borrowed from a babydoll which was made in India, that she was like Govinda's shirt, only three times more so. "Uproar II - the Hungama" ensued, leading to a find-and-replace mission with "baby".

Such has my generation been scarred that we have hardly been able to think or utter such words. I'm showing the way with posts such as these. S-E-X-Y! There, I've spelt it out. Chi-Chi: zaraa khaTiyaa sarkaanaa.

The optimal pessimist

The optimal pessimist

The optimist shrugs it off knowing he's still got most of his life ahead of him. That he too has got most of his life ahead of him is exactly what the pessimist is worried about.

Marhabaa to the music of Jodha

Marhaba to the music of Jodha

Well, almost. They are taking their time, but the end is nigh. After bouts of helplessness, news is that the music of Jodhaa Akbar is likely to be at hand within the next seven days.

Three songs are playing on TV and radio spots, of which the radio versions, being almost full-length, have found their way online. "Marhaba" a.k.a "Azeem-o-shaan" is a regal and martial track blended with a melodic strain with interesting rhythm changes; Jashn-e-Bahaara is extremely dulcet as well as being simple; the most recent being Khwaja, which sounds like a trademark qawwali. All in all, has the makings of classic ARR. We'll know soon.

Coming back to the film itself, not completely sure about how the film's story is going to pan out (it looks to be sumptuously shot). I fear a "Rising" effect here: Akbar being made out to be this pan-Indian hero who battles for the sake of "Hindostaan". Akbar is one of my favourite historical characters, but from what I've read about him, I don't think he had an India-centric outlook, especially while consolidating power. The idea of "India" must surely have been a nebulous concept then (it seemed to have been so until the late 1800s, didn't it?) more akin to the idea of "Europe". Add to that the immense insecurity caused by Humayun's loss, Akbar's early ascension, the intrigues of the Lodhis, Hemu, and later the Rajputs. You really expect a young Akbar to say: "hum hindostaan ko galat haato.n me.n nahii.n jaane de.nge?" For that matter, some accounts I've read make Akbar out to be a squat, slightly ugly man with a mole on his face - a far cry from the outlines of a Hrithik.

Anyway, this is what is perhaps called artistic licence. At any rate, I'll treat Haidar Ali's (some of us may remember him from serials such as Circus and most recently from "Khoya Khoya Chand") story as a work of art rather than as historical document. However, I'm sure there'll be a few rumbles as the film's release approaches. Anyway, am mainly interested in the music, and the film itself is secondary!

Music Update: 11 Jan
Track listing is available here (flash content to be navigated, sadly). In addition to the three vocal tracks mentioned above (voices: a large-sized chorus, Javed Ali, A.R.Rahman respectively), there's a duet called "in lamho.n ke daaman me.n" (Sonu Nigam and Madhushree) and "mana mohanaa" (Bela Shende). Two instrumentals complete the lineup, a flute version of the qawwali and more interestingly, an oboe version of "jashn-e-baharaa". Do not know of any instrumental tracks in Indian albums to feature a solo oboe, so looking out for that one.

Victoria no. 203 - a singleton object?

Victoria no. 203 - a singleton object?

Strolling past many Victorias yesterday, I noticed something that made my trivia-overdosed heart beat rapidly: a Victoria with the number 203. What the...!

When scepticism returned to her little seat in the cranium, I wondered: are there many such Victorias exploiting the number? (and we haven't yet hit the remake). Or did I see the only Victoria no. 203 doing the rounds? Can someone switch the lights on this matter?

Annoy Sengupta

I was watching a movie the other day at a local multiplex when, as usual, the enforced interval was thrust upon us. Publicity ads went by. One caught my eye. It said: "for further details, contact Annoy.Sengupta@...".

S/He must get a lot of irritating email.