An understanding of sexual fluidity via Rituparno Ghosh as the protagonist

RITUPARNO GHOSH – AN INTRODUCTION

Born on the 31^st of august in the year 1963, Rituparno Ghosh a Bengali filmmaker was considered an icon for the LGBT community in India. He explored the ‘third gender’ lifestyle during the last several years of his life. He began his career as a copywriter in Kolkata. Ghosh made his directorial debut in 1992 with the film Hirer Angti based on the novel by Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay. He had called Satyajit Ray his mentor, though has not really adopted his style of work. He calls Ray an inspiration for himself to be a director.

Films like Abohoman, Chokher Bali, Shob charitra kalponik (all characters fictitious), Bariwali, Raincoat, Antarmahal, The last Lear, Unishe April and many more have earned him several National awards and he is hence recognized for his distinctive style of work. He has glorified womanhood in his films and has portrayed his understanding of the woman psyche. In his last films he addressed issues of homosexuality and gender.

Sexual fluidity, ambiguity of sexuality, the third gender all are the same as Transgender meaning the state of one's gender identity or gender expression not matching one's assigned sex. Transgender is independent of sexual orientation. This presentation highlights Rituparno Ghosh when other examples could have been taken because the country has rarely seen the heights of success and boldness as Ghosh has shown.

A PART OF AN INTERVIEW

On an interview by THE TELEGRAPH, KOLKATA (December 22, 2010), Rituparno Ghosh was questioned about his portrayal as a cross dresser.

“Your cross-dressing has always raised eyebrows. Will Aarekti Premer Galpo give people more reason to talk about the ambiguity of your sexuality?”

To this Ghosh responded that he enjoys the gender fluidity and has no intention of converting his body to a female’s body. All the speculation about him approaching femininity and breast augmentation does not hold as he celebrates staying in ‘between’. “I don’t consider myself a woman and I don’t want to become a woman” he said. He did not like the concept of unisex being monopolized by women. “Wearing earrings and necklaces have been a part of Indian history and tradition. These were tagged as feminine frills during colonial rule and I don’t see anything wrong in reinstating it. My point is why I shouldn’t celebrate my sexuality?” explained Rituparno Ghosh.

Arekti Premer Golpo (just another love story)

INTRODUCTION

Arekti Premer Golpo (Just another love story), directed by Kaushik Ganguly and Rituparno Ghosh is about a cross dresser filmmaker, Abhiroop Sen (played by Ghosh himself) who wishes to create a documentary on the forgotten theatre actor Chapal Bhaduri. He is probably the last living female imitator of the Bengali folk theatre called jatra. Rituparno played both characters of a gay filmmaker and young Chapal Bhaduri. In doing so, the viewer is able to connect the characters going through a similar journey. While Chapal Bhaduri faced a severe ostracism, Abhiroop Sen is more socially accepted due to his success and the generation he lives in.  But there is still a long way to go.

The film begins with an introduction to ‘Chapal Bhaduri’, a forgotten ‘diva’. He used to dress up as a woman (mostly a Goddess) and performed during his time. But as he got old and weak, he lost his fame. He would agree to do documentaries and interviews to gain some financial stability.  One such filmmaker named Abhiroop Sengupta approaches Chapal Bhaduri along with his crew to shoot a documentary on him.

For quiet sometime in the beginning of the film, the song “poro jonomey hoio Radha” (in next life, be ‘Radha’) is played in the background which can be interpreted as a symbol for the nature’s mistake while creating Chapal Bhaduri.

Abhiroop Sengupta played by Rituparna himself portrays a cross dresser who faces challenges put in front by the neighborhood people where Chapal Da lives. But against all odds he is able to complete the shoot. Also enters the character of Uday Narayan Chopra who takes the crew from Kolkata to Hetampur (new location). The film continues giving a hint of Uday’s attraction towards Abhiroop.

ABHIROOP SENGUPTA – CHARACTER SKETCH

A gay, cross dresser and a successful filmmaker attached to his mother. Mother is the prominent support system for Abhiroop Sengupta. The character calls himself a “non believer” that implies his disappointment towards God for making him totally different outside from what he is inside.

He is bold enough to accept his gender fluidity but constantly fights a battle with the society that lives under certain prejudice. He is in an intimate relationship with a member of the core production team who happens to be married. His insecurity with the relationship is clear since marriage (a heterosexual relationship) holds more value, morally as well as legally, in a civilized society.

He connects himself to Chapal Bhaduri very easily while rest of the crew is indifferent towards him. He understands the pressure and the pain Chapal Da must have gone through. He empathizes the artist’s sufferings in his relationship with another man and the embarrassment later felt in his profession.

The filmmaker’s character develops as his attraction grows towards Uday. His desire to receive attention and the disappointment for not being able to get it creates an attachment between Abhiroop and Uday while distance between him and Indraneil (partner).

CHAPAL BHADURI’S FATE

Losing his mother in a tender age, the sensitive Chapal grew up to be a jatra performer. He is close to his elder sister, who happens to be understanding in his own words. Though initially it was just an attraction, Chapal falls in love with a regular visitor, ‘Kumar babu’ who was married and had children. The relationship was cruel, as it benefited only one side.

Chapal was soon told to leave the jatra by his boss, as his need was now less – Girls were now joining this form of art. Further his sexuality was questioned by several. Chapal now rented a room with Rs 60 per month; money was naturally a limited support. Kumar Babu would come and go, making remarks about his poor lifestyle, humiliating his independence and calling him “false”.

The documentary continues as Chapal Bhaduri is told to move out of the rented house by the landlord. Kumar babu was of no help, leaving all his furniture only with a bag on his shoulder, Chapal left for Tarapith. There he meets the manager (Tushar) of a local dharmashala who provides a place to stay. Time went by Chapal  stayed there,  Tushar’s attraction and concern for Chapal now can be seen when one day Kumar Babu appeared.

Begged Chapal to come with him as Rani, his wife fell too sick to even get up from her bed. Chapal leaving Tarapith against Tushar’s wishes arrives at Kumar Babu’s place, where he shopped, cooked, cleaned, and sent the kids to school. At first he felt as the mistress but later he knew, he was just an old maid called upon in need. But Chapal gets fond of the sick wife, he realizes her state any day is worse that his own heartache. ‘Rani’ (the wife) feels more alive now, than she ever felt with her own husband. The developing friendship between the two characters seems to be inevitable.

Chapal then leaves the family in search of his destiny. Years later, present day, he receives a letter from ‘Rani’ asking him to come and meet her. Chapal’s story ends with a Tagore song.

‘Infuse my spirit, slake my thirst

Give me more and more life, life divine.

In your universe, wherein you dwell,

Make a space for me, more sublime’

MEMORIES IN MARCH  

Washington DC, March 31, 2011 (Washington Bangla Radio) internationally acclaimed Indian film-maker Rituparno Ghosh chats with Devashish Ray about the film Memories in March written by Ghosh and in which Ghosh appears as an actor playing a lead role.

Memories in March is directed by Sanjay Nag and stars Deepti Naval, Rituparno Ghosh and Raima Sen in leading roles.

Ghosh, being a director himself says the film is a project that they (the cast and crew) believed in, and though there are some directorial concerns, they do not bother him. Ghosh believes people across the world will love him, even rejoice in it, given the film has a message.

About his thoughts on the gradual discovery of a mother of her son’s sexual identity (after the accidental death of the son), Ghosh describes the story as being very intimate among three people. The mother is a complete stranger in the city her son lived in. She starts the process of gathering of her son’s belongings. And the film is not just about the discovery of her son having been gay (she has great difficulty accepting her son’s sexuality), but also about how the mother feels she is, being a blood relation, should have the strongest claim to the memories of her son. Perhaps it is best to leave it that way, says Ghosh.

THE THREE LEAD CHARACTERS

THE MOTHER – AARTI (PLAYED BY DEEPTI NAVAL)

Aarti describes herself as a conservative woman. She can scarcely begin to accept her son’s sexual orientation and echoes the common belief that homosexuality is a psychological disorder that can be cured with counseling and medication. But while her moral values are traditional, her personality is decidedly modern and in many ways, more liberated than most women.

Throughout the film, one can witness her immense dignity. When Sahana (office colleague of the son) asks her if she’d like to stay over, Aarti firmly refuses and spends the night alone in her dead son’s apartment. She does the same when the office offers to pick up the tab for her air ticket. She as matter-of-fact calls up her ex husband in the US more than once, and leaves messages on his answering machine, trying to inform him about their son’s death. But when Ornob (boss and the son’s lover) hesitates to part with sketches and photographs pinned on Siddhart’s (the son) office tag board, she loses her cool and vents her fury on him, leading him to describe her outburst as ‘melodramatic’.

ORNOB (PLAYED BY RITUPARNO GHOSH)

Ornob is a very opinionated man. He’s so in face of being judged and labeled by society at large. At one point he asks Aarti, “which of the two is more acceptable to you- that Siddhart is dead or that he was gay?” Or then, it is the fact that he never trusted his mother enough to confide in her about his relationship and that she finally had to get details from an unsent mail drafted on his mobile phone?

Ornob’s one breakdown scene is brilliantly written. He visits Aarti at the apartment to give her the things she wanted from Sid’s office desk. Aarti, who’s also a calmer after spending the night mulling over the dreadful (for her) revelation asks him to keep everything except a photograph of her from her younger day. Ornob refuses to part with it saying it defines Sid’s mother to him – the woman Sid loved so dearly and described so fondly and in such detail; and who, he says, may look like the woman sitting before him, but is nothing like her at all.

SHAHANA (PLAYED BY RAIMA SEN)

The third important player in this drama is Siddhart’s colleague Shahana, whose own feelings for Aarti’s son are almost as intense as the other two, but she is practical, sensible and far less caught up with the emotion. Even when she tells Aarti about her long-standing crush on siddharth, she’s matter-of-fact about being rejected.

CHITRANGADA

In Mahabharata, Arjuna while in exile, when arrived in the lands of Manipur (somewhere near kalinga, not where today Manipur is) met an extra ordinarily beautiful lady who turned out to be a princess and the only child of the king. Arjuna was conditioned that he would not be able to take her to Hastinapura after the wedding when he met the king with the proposal of marriage. Since he had no heir to the throne, the son born from the union would rule the future Manipur. Arjuna agreed to this, and for one year he and chitrangada spent a happy life and gave birth to Babruvahana. Arjuna left Manipura and never witnessed his son’s growing up but he did come face to face later in his life while Babruvahana rode a horse to Manipur intended for the Aswamedha.

Rabindra Nath Tagore adapted the story of Mahabharata and reinvented it with his own interpretations.  The king of the kingdom Manipura received Lord Shiva’s boon, that only men would take birth in his family. But that did not happen as Chitrangada was born. So, he decided to up bring his only child, a daughter as a warrior. She was taught to be a prince who learnt politics and the art of sword fighting; this implies a “troubled gender” (The term as used by Rituparno ghosh in an interview on the show TARA MUZIC TOLLY UNCUT). The warrior princess when saw the handsome Arjuna in a forest challenged him for a fight which he, being a Brahmachari refused. This incident made Chitrangada question her masculinity. She felt the urge to become a woman who she was, biologically, but not mentally.  Fearing that Arjuna would reject her for being manly, Chitrangada approaches ‘Madan’, the God of love to make her more womanly. Arjuna instantly falls in love with the beautiful lady.

When Manipura was attacked, the people cried for their protector’s help. Chitrangada realizing her duties now again asks ‘Madan’ to transform her into her original form. Arjuna was even more impressed and falls in love twice with the same person. Thus, he loves her for what she is and not the woman she pretends to be.

CHITRANGADA – THE CROWNING WISH

This is the tale of Rudra, a choreographer who is staging Tagore’s dance drama Chitrangada and his relationship with a drummer (Partho). Rudra decides to go for breast augmentation and sex change surgery to become a woman, so that they can adopt a baby. The film revolves around on the questions; does this decision help in solving the problem? Would the surgery be enough to strengthen the relationship?

It is a film that holds a mirror to progressive society that is still fumbling about how to handle homosexuality. It educates without being preachy about the same sex relationships. One might even call it a personal film. But at the end, this film can’t be ignored in the context of Indian cinema.

Merging myth with reality, This Ghosh film throws up a lot of questions, answering a few while leaving the rest open to interpretations. How difficult is it for the parents to come to terms with the fact that their son is gay? How difficult is it for a gay man to be told time and again that he ought to see a doctor to cure himself? and how traumatically hollow is it for a male couple to feel that will never be allowed to adopt a baby even when they know that biologically they can never have a living product of their love?

For some the film could seem like an excuse to use the premise of the Chitrangada myth and add a dash of magic realism to finally prove a point. But for the rest, Chitrangada can be viewed as a film that would evolve a viewer. The film goes beyond surface level explorations of the dilemma of which gender to use to address a man in the process of being a woman.

The film portrays a deep relation between a mother and the son (Rudra), evident from a touching scene when the former with concern says “I gave birth to this body, which is yours. I have a right to know, whatever goes on in this body. I have a right to know if it is changing, transforming…”

THEREFORE,

‘Chitrangada’, a character from Mahabharata has been interpreted again and again. In the epic she is just a princess in a kingdom that had no sons. She could provide an heir.

For Tagore she is a warrior princess. While Rituparno embraces the quality of ‘troubled gender’. Abhiroop, a male character in the film wishes to celebrate ‘his’ femininity.

CONCLUSION 

Each film treats homosexuality differently. The characters are very much different from each other, mentally and as well as professionally. While Arekti premer golpo describes a successful yet lonely, strong yet in secured Abhiroop Sengupta, Memories in March describes an established man who could not confide in his mother about his sexuality. There is a hint of distrust towards his mother, but a longing for her love is evident.

In both the films, mother plays an important role in the protagonist’s life. The former character calls his mother several times in a day, even if it is just to ask about her meals. The latter develops a bond with his dead lover’s mother, probably in search of his own.

Chitrangada redefines the already very popular character. A cross dresser choreographer disciplined and established falls in love with a percussionist. The drummer is a junkie, a raw talent that has no focus in his life. This relationship grows and revolves around many insecurities and confusions, which ultimately leads to Rudra’s (lead character) decision for sex change. Here in the film, the role of the mother is prominent in a way that Rudra is attached to her. But father is the character he is disappointed with. 

Remembering Sparrows, Reminding Dodo.

The coming generation or probably the one after that might see sparrows in pictures and not feeding upon grains. While the planet is already challenged by global warming, ozone layer depletion, climatic changes, deforestation, air, water and land pollution, extinction of tigers and danger to wildlife as a whole, we are slapped on our faces with yet another disturbing fact that sparrows once that were in abundance greeting ‘good morning’ is now an endangered species.

In Delhi, while pigeons and crows have crowded the streets and the sky, the little brown birds have disappeared noticeably. People now in their twenties can actually compare the difference.

Dwarka in South West Delhi witnesses different kinds of birds, thankfully Sparrows being one of them.  ‘Umar – The Chai Wala’ (Tea stall) near the campus of Guru Gobind Singh Indraprastha University is visited by large number of Parrots, Pigeons, Sparrows etc.

With the Najafgarh drain bird sanctuary not far away that becomes a refuge to thousands of migratory water birds every winter, a delightful sight of birds can be witnessed. Within National Capital Territory of Delhi (NCT) this water-way is misclassified as a mere drain, in fact, it is the continuation of Sahibi River and an elongation of the Najafgarh jheel Lake and is a tributary to River Yamuna. Winter months are the best time to visit it to see many flocks of wintering water birds along its length and breadth.

The sparrow, once the exemplar of a commonplace bird, is becoming increasingly rare in France and other European countries. French ornithologists have now charted a steep decline in Paris and other French cities. There has been an even sharper fall in urban populations in Germany, the Czech Republic, Belgium, the Netherlands, Italy and Finland. As in Britain, where sparrow numbers are believed to have fallen by 90 per cent in the past 15 years, continental ornithologists can find no coherent explanation for the sudden decline. The mystery is especially deep in Paris, which is believed to have lost 200,000 sparrows.

Sparrows being slowly wiped out as our malls and sleek apartment buildings come up in a 'Shining' India further reminds us of another bird species called the Dodo. Large number of these birds were killed for food as in 1505 the Portuguese became the first humans to set foot on the island of Mauritius. Many of the ships that came to Mauritius also had uninvited rats aboard, some of which escaped onto the island. Before humans and other mammals arrived the Dodo bird had little to fear from predators. The rats, pigs and monkeys made short work of vulnerable dodo bird eggs in the ground nests.

The combination of human exploitation and introduced species significantly reduced Dodo bird populations. Within 100 years of the arrival of humans on Mauritius, the once abundant Dodo bird was a rare bird. The Dodo bird is just one of the bird species driven to extinction on Mauritius. Many others were lost in the 19th century when the dense Mauritian forests were converted into tea and sugar plantations.

The last Dodo bird was killed in 1681.

Till Now - part 1

I have never justified my title, Untitled, but today i will. The name came organically to me, maybe because I feel that till a story is finished and done, it can be bent anywhere you wish to. I can be titled and confined to something when i am gone maybe, but till then i am still been written. 

So the story embarks on the seventh month of 1992, what time I cannot say, not relevant either, but place I can say is Kolkata. Neither big, nor small but is a congested city. The city does still looks like a fallen British empire. British because of the architecture and fallen because for obvious historical reasons. There are no childhood memories of the city because me and my parents left very soon after I was born. But I have heard their stories, adolescence revolving around the very famous coffee house and Nandan ,a government sponsored film and cultural centre. Anyway, I am obviously not attached to it. I am told I was three when we all came to New Delhi, frankly I am glad that we did. Not sure if I would have hated there if I grew up there, but the very thought of it reminds me the immense change my life would have had if there was no Delhi in the picture. The connection is always strong to a city one grows up in, the place of birth hardly matters then. Though my facebook profile will always hold Kolkata my home town, but Delhi will always remain my home.

What is it about Delhi that attracts me you ask? It’s speed I would say. The pace can be exhausting or adrenaline pumping, but it can never be boring. The city can frustrate me, hurt me, excite me or love me, but it can never not be my home. I am not fond of the ever mushrooming cars though, but cannot complaint if I own one.

As bongs, we are desperate for Durga Puja, no matter where we are, Delhi or London. There has to be four festive days, rather tiring I would say. Each day beginning to the loud dhaak beats and the ceremonies performed in front of the gorgeous idol. The idea is to welcome the goddess on her four day visit to her home, away from her husband. And therefore the glamour and the merry making. This all is when it is the navratri for every other north Indian non Bengali. Huge lavish tents would be set up, lights shimmering, everyone on their best dress would be greeting one another are the main attractions. My childhood pretty much revolved around it, the fragrance of sandal incense sticks still takes me back to that time and puts me right in front of Her. She stands there owning the place and all I am left with is a sense of awe. The celebrations include stage performances, that I was a part of. I loved it, I was good at it, and hence enjoyed the attention. It was a beautiful childhood, the makeup, the costume, the rehearsals, the scolding when I would miss a step, I couldn't ask for more. The long nights after that, sitting around with all the participants is what I would define as after party, not a perfect term but this is what I can come up with. The parents would be at one corner probably criticizing the people they didn't like and us kids would be playing charades in the other. Good times! I hurried for nothing that time, except for growing up perhaps. Children are always in a hurry to grow, foolish they are, and so was I. All of us grew up, school became painful, and hence life changed. It’s funny that how the process of changing, the cross roads of phases do not appear drastic but when I reminisce it seems like too much of events have passed in a very little time.

The board exams are a big deal for some reason, it was for me too but only because the environment was such. It is sort of the first step academically, so hence the hype. I hated Sanskrit, and would never forget the terror it caused me. Not that I was brilliant in every other subject I had, but I knew I will manage. The dreadful month of March, every student can relate to this, approached like an alligator approaching for its prey. But it went by too, it is not until the end when one realizes that the panic was just a hoax.

The next two years were the most important ones; it is the time when every child begins to really grow up. At least for me, it was something like that. The very characters like being the coolest kid (or at least trying to be one), having huge number of friends (better defined as followers), being a prefect, breaking rules even more since nobody really questions a prefect, fighting and over sensitivity defines these two very last years. All of us just wanted to gather memories, because it suddenly hits you that this is it! Thirteen years of school is ending. So as time flies the trauma of leaving school changes into the desperation of having it all done before life even actually begins. That’s the irony I adore about being a teenager.

The final year ends with a series of pre board examinations, laboratory work (there is no way I will ever forget the chemistry lab smell), project submissions and finally the long preparation holidays.

I enjoyed those holidays, I believe exams bring people closer. The long hour discussions about the syllabus each one of us had completed and the panic attack following the post discussions were very exciting. The one particular book that the entire batch was following was the set of pradeep’s books. Anyone who is a science student would totally understand what I mean.

Texts were exchanged like forest fire, yes texts, no whatsapps that time. Its hard to imagine that I don’t text anymore or get the recharges on my phone done for the same. School was definitely different then from now, it was yahoo messenger and later orkut which were popular. Remember the testimonials we all forced our friends to write? It is nothing like that now, scraps have become posts and likes.

Anyway, internet, phone and late night study hours all finally lead to our final board exams. Results were then out and just like that the whole world around us changed for the very first time.

TO BE CONTINUED…….

Sam and the frog

Ever heard of the story about a frog that lived in a well? Mrs Mukherjee selected this particular story for her class on a Monday morning. “So, one day the frog was visited by a little frog who had travelled far from his home in the village” she continued the tale occasionally taking a glance at her students. Little Sam sitting in the back was listening very carefully to his teacher and was enjoying the conversation between the two frogs. Mrs Mukherjee continued “The older frog was surprised by the visit and wanted to know the purpose of the same” to which the little frog replied “I live in a pond at a nearby village and I am looking for a new home, something bigger and prettier than the pond”. The older one was too arrogant and naive to believe that there is any home bigger than his own, and said, ”you silly kid, this well is the biggest of all, nothing can be majestic than this”, clearly the old vain frog was not aware of the never ending ocean, the endless blue colour till the horizon. Hearing this, the little frog felt sorry for him and bade goodbye.

The bell rang as the story ended. Mrs Mukherjee smiled at her students and promised them a new story next time. The rest of the day went by like it always does, learning the decimal system and the crops that grow in different states but nothing was as interesting as the English class in the mornings, thought little Sam.  After school Sam walked to his house, kicking a stone on his way till he reached. He was not really cheerful that day, his mind was filled with the chat his mother had with him the day before. They had to move to a new city, he knew father had moved to Delhi already a few months back and now it was their time to do that. He has settled there and wishes his family to be with him now. Sam was upset and had questions like ‘why does he have to leave his friends and school?’, so obviously he resented the idea of a new home, because he already had one.

His mother of course noticed that Sam was quiet ever since she had the talk with him. “I made your favorite today dear, wash up and let’s eat together” mother said to Sam when he came home. He ate and went straight to his room, he stared at the room for a while, it suddenly hit him that it would not be his room anymore. The ten year old kid had so many thoughts swirling in his head that it made him weary, so he slept. Later in the evening when he woke up, mother asked him to finish his homework. So, Sam opened his bag pack and decided to start with what Mrs Mukherjee had given them that day. She had asked them to read the story on their own one more time. Sam read and read, slowly flipping through the pages; even he felt pity for the older frog. He liked the younger frog, he almost wanted to be him till he realized that he was the little frog who was looking for adventure. It made him happy and cheerful again because though he had to leave his school but Sam was glad that he was not a frog in the well.

Love stories are meant to be dreamy

It is so difficult to come up with an idea or a plot to write. I have always been very convinced that great thoughts just come to you like BAM! But nothing like that has happened to me yet. Whatever I come up with has already been written or filmed. Even the simplest plot of a boy and a girl is so tiring to write. What can I possibly bring something new to a love story that has not already been told? Although, the critically acclaimed are the ones where one of the two dies, but I like a happy ending. Endings are not always shiny and dreamy in the three dimensional life, but stories are the only place where one can fantasies happiness.  I feel like, all the great things are already written and told. So whatever today we think, it has a reference point to the past. Although Romeo and Juliet is not my favorite love story in the world, but whenever there is a parental interference in the story, we know where that is coming from.  Also the romance today has changed its process; texting ILU is somehow more popular than the physical presence, especially among teenagers. Anyway, I personally have always been a fan of a plot where the girl and the boy are best friends, initially not realizing what they actually mean to each other and one day when the girl is out with a bad boy, the jealous best friend shows up and pours his heart out. It sounds mawkishly sentimental but in the end everyone wants to find somebody and not die alone. I am not ashamed to accept that I am a Bollywood enthusiast, and hence I make myself believe that it’s not love if you cannot hear a song being played at the background on your first date. I think I got carried away, snapping out of it now. Even if the songs are not there and the wind doesn’t blow, if it’s love, perhaps one might still go into a trance state of mind. And it would not be the worst thing if a real life love story actually turned out to be like one of the Hindi cinemas. Still I would like to make one change, maybe the guy can drop the attitude and the girl can stop being a damsel in distress, opposite attracts is an overrated statement. I absolutely do not mind the Hero hitting six villains alone though, it has no logic but who doesn’t like chivalry?

Moving on, people will hate me for this but I am not impressed by dilwale dulhaniya le jayenge. It is partially because of Amrish puri’s character portraying an over protective know it all father and Kajol’s character playing too good to be true Hindustani ladki having boundaries as if Indian girls don’t have a life, and mostly because of  the hypocrisy about London being an uncultured city even though it gave the family it’s bread and butter. Baldev singh stayed in the city for over two decades and never thought of going back to Punjab, but the day Simran confesses her love for Raj, he decides to sell off everything and move back to India.

There are things I love about the film too, example;  a very dependable lover who asks Simran to trust him that he will take care of everything. The very sweet Farida Jalal playing Kajol’s mother. The loud fun loving Punjabi family, and my most favorite DDLJ character Anupam kher playing Shahrukh Khan’s Father. And I definitely enjoyed watching Karan Johar as one of Raj’s friends. It is true that you cannot get bored during the entire film, there is something always happening. Whatever one may think about this film, it will always remain an inspiration for the upcoming Hindi love stories, and it has been the most loved love story since 1995.

The world is a better place because of these not so logical love stories, for some it is a hope to find somebody just like Raj and for others something to laugh about. Either way it is entertaining.

Confession of a smoker

My biggest regret yet is the day I held a cigarette, lit it and took the very first drag. It was three years ago, near my college with a friend of a friend. I wish I could erase myself from that moment, then the entire time ahead till now would have been something else. Not that I am dying, but it would be a great achievement for myself to quit it. At times I have been an intense smoker, I would feel the smoke going in and then coming out, every muscle relaxed. I would forget the issue I was frustrated about. Every time, for a momentary happiness I would light a cigarette and smoke away my worries.

A smoker never cares about the weather. If he needs a cigarette, he would walk a mile to buy it, stand under the sun and would not really care about the throat infection he has. I am unfortunately one of them. I have spent thousands of rupees on buying cigarettes, and have literally burnt the money. Obviously, it is not a revelation that I have been a fool. But it took me a lot of time to be brave and write about it. A smoker always finds an excuse, a reason to smoke and so did I. Million times I have promised myself in my head to give up but then I would feel desperate and crippled.  Crippled because, an addiction chains you up in a way that you forget, you had a life once without it.

I live in New Delhi, where probably after every fifty meters there is a store to buy cigarettes called the ‘panwaadi’. I believe I have befriended a few of them. It is like they are calling you, whispering in your ears to light them. There are too many options and too less of my will power. The government has a funny scheme though, it raises the price. Funny because, when people did not stop putting onions in their food, why on earth will they stop buying a cigarette due to price hike? But anyway, I am choosing to believe that it is helping somebody.

The question is, why did all of this hit me today?  I was with a friend the entire day, watching movie and having lunch. It was a fun day, where at the end I realized I had just smoked once the entire day. I became so proud of myself that I thought to reward myself with a smoke. So, for that, after dropping her home I went to the nearest store and asked the guy for a pack of classic mild. To my surprise he replied “won’t this kill you madam?” To which I replied “but your selling it still aren't you?” I didn't expect myself to answer him back at that point. It was a small incident, as far as I know myself, I should have ignored the matter. But I couldn't, it got stuck in my head as I drove back home. At the last traffic light, just before reaching home, without thinking of the pros and cons, I threw the pack out of my window and kept driving.

I do not know if I have quit or planning to do so. Even if I am somewhere in my consciousness, I would probably curse myself for throwing away the cigarettes. I might buy it again the next day or I might steal away a few from my father’s pack. But for the very first time it hit me that I don’t have to be so desperate, and that I too have the guts to throw away the whole pack in the garbage. It is just a beginning; there is a long way to go. The frequent temptations ahead would make the process tougher every day.

Solitude

Google defines solitude as the state or situation of being alone. But every other person who doesn't sit alone and enjoys a cup of coffee thinks its being lonely. Solitude is a choice, a ‘me time’ that all of us deserve. My choice of place is the café coffee day near the Taj hotel in New Delhi. In the winters, when very few people get up early in the morning, I choose to sit there and be alone, away from the buzzing city. It is not just a time for self introspection, nothing that deep,  just a place to be thankful for the delightful winter after the scorching heat. My kind of lazy day starts with the first coffee at CCD and listening to some good music. Each person has his own place of being alone. A bathroom singer chooses the shower, a gym freak has the gym, a speed lover goes for a ride and a coffee lover like me goes to a café.

My friends believe that its boring but what they don’t understand is that, not always one looks for an adventure. It is alright to be still for a while and admire the season, feeling alive, even when not laughing and screaming. I sit there expressionless, earphones plugged in and fall in love with ‘nothing else matters’ by Metallica over and over again. The coffee smell, to me the most erotic fragrance and the cold breeze making my nose red, the high point of my day. The luxurious cars passing by, into the Taj distract me though, but I don’t mind that. After all, a Mercedes is always a treat to the eyes.

I have never tried writing though. I believe I might get good ideas and content. But have definitely studied for my semester exams. Putting the phone into silent mode and rolling up my sleeves I would begin my syllabus. A little while later, the place would start to fill up with students like me, giving each other hi fives. I would always bunk my first lecture in my college and observe people, a group of chirpy girls showing off their new bags and the guys being like ‘whats up bro!’.But if you sit there for long, you would be able to make a clear distinction between the seniors and the freshers. While the seniors are focusing on the menu, the younger crowd is worried about the next lecture.

A few joggers would pass by too, confused if they should come inside and rest for a bit or run another mile. You could actually notice the dilemma on their face. By this time I am in a song switching mode and have ordered for the next round of coffee. Phone begins to ring and my hello meets with a ‘where are you? Come soon to the class’. Hurrying up with my coffee is probably the last thing I would do. Finally, it is time to leave and join the others.

I always knew I would miss my college days but I didn’t realize until a few months back that I would miss the place where I would be alone the most.