"Difficulty of reading a Big Short Story Book"

It would just not end. Unlike fat novels where a singular narrative could assist you in reading two hundred or more pages at one go, these fat short story books would give you a different setting with different characters after every few pages which will require special effort to first absorb it all and then point out the main premise of the story. It becomes like space travel where you are left in a small town or locality to explore it and just when you are beginning the exploration, it ends abruptly and you are dropped in some other part of the country to start it all over. It is like meeting people in buses and trains who would speak a word or two just when their destination is close and they are leaving their seats to get off. How many of the stories could one internalize and enjoy the beauty? My guess is five to six a day would be enough if one is reading ‘Guy De Maupassant’ or ‘O Henry’. ‘Manto’ and ‘Jhumpa Lahiri’ may give some freedom of fast reading but what will be the point of that?? 

SMOKING THRILLS

What is with smoking that all those horrendous images on the cigarette packets combining with the anti tobacco movie messages on our TV and cinema screens are not able to stop millions from inhaling the supposed poison and exhaling the orphic circles of smoke. What is with the American glamour of Marlboro men and cultural significance of Filipino cheroots or Cuban cigars? Why that is an image of a woman smoking a cigarette without being conscious is freedom personified for so many creative artists and a challenge for conservative folks? Caffeine and alcohol are the best formulas for conversations but what would a lonely being do? He or she would walk to the window of his drawing room and light a smoke. At the tea tapris of Jaipur, on the sea facing rocks of Mumbai and in the open spaces of Jawahar Lal Nehru University of Delhi; a loner would sit silently on a stone and light his brand. Inhaling deep, staring in zero, in that momentary gap between a puff and another, one would think of oneself as if he or she were Socrates, Dante, Manto, Chekhov or Amrita Preetam. Let them live the glory, let them smoke….Smoking Thrills. 

Why Saleem Javed Matter!!

Writers, especially film writers are a rare breed. Unlike novelists their work does not get translated to different languages so they do not have admirers showering accolades on them across the globe. Their intellectual properties i.e. scripts they pen down do not insure a constant influx of money either for them or their families. Instead of literate publishing houses the novelists deal with, they have to go about their business with hawkish money making tendencies of ruthless corporate and individual motion picture producers. The last and the most terrible thing, they need to focus more on public relations than their writing because who needs a good writer when movies are sailing on dance numbers and the star power.

                                                            An idea may be the seed of theories, doctrines, revolutions, novels, short stories, a poem or a movie, that is the beauty of an idea. But a film writer knows the dangers of an idea better than anybody else. Why? Because anybody can have an idea; from an executive producer or the CEO of the company to a distant relative of a veteran cinematographer can have his or her own idea about which they are very excited. The trouble is they expect a film writer to develop this wonderful idea of theirs in to an equally wonderful screenplay without an advance pay cheque. The poor film writer is left contemplating either to gamble a minimum period of a month during which he would be borrowing money to put it in someone else’s ‘idea’ or to simply say ‘no’ on the peril of ruining his relationship with the people. They famously say in Mumbai “never say no to anybody”.  

                                                        Problems of the film writers magnify many folds when the context is Indian. Though the Film Writers’ Association is coming up, they are still nowhere close to the organizations such as the Writers’ Guild of America in their ferocity in protecting the rights of fellow writers.  So the intellectual copyrights of a film writer are not guarded as stringently as they should be. The guess is they are not going to be for a very long time because film writers are supposed to comply at the smallest gesture and start throwing their ideas on the coffee tables of Baristas’, Costa’s or Café coffee days. They do not have agents to promote their talent so that they can go back to their comfortable spaces and work in peace. They need to be on the walking distance may be a phone call away, always. No money! So where is the question of settling down? Trapped in their emotional and financial insecurities they become timid, depressed and coward which leads them to agree to work on any condition even if it means cutting the throats of their own fellow writers.  

                                                     But the picture has not always been this gloomy. The brightest and the most promising example of hope has been the duo of “Salim-Javed”. For the 23 Hindi movie scripts they penned down together during a decade and half of their alliance, they changed the way the writers were perceived. Their doggedness to fight for their rights was unparallel. Who but they could go around riding a rikshaw and paint their names on the film posters they had written and thus creating a brand name for themselves which at the time glistened brighter than the stars. Never before or after has anybody seen screen writers demanding a share in the profit of the movies they wrote. It was the confidence in their work and the ethics they attached to their demands for what they deserved that can be the shining post for thousands who are tackling their ghosts of creativity sitting solitarily and diving deeper into their sub conscious so that they can write well and the movie viewers could be served well. Let them not demand a share in the profit but they deserve dignity, respect and a pay cheque if they are good at what they do.        

WOLF HALL

Wolf Hall

Hilary mantel

For almost a month, an hour everyday, I visited damp, cold fourteenth century England where church’s order was slowly crumbling, blacksmiths and butchers were infiltrating Dukes’ and Lords’ higher circles; Bible printed in English was blasphemous, sinners were burned alive after being tied to metallic poles, plague claimed lives every year, Oxford was trying to stand up, Cornish and Irish were brutes, teens were playing flutes, the Thames was far from beauty, London was gruesome with all its palaces and river side gardens, few English gentlemen were incestuous while others associated themselves with foggy Puritanism; living haunted the dead, dead haunted the piled memories, diplomats grinned and conspired, poison worked in the kitchens, cooks were boiled and beheaded, ladies played their charm with sheepish glances and unlaced gowns, towns were obscure, villages non existing. In the novel Almost all of it was bore, contrived and manifested through one character: Thomas Cromwell.

                                                     Hilary Mantel created this character with more than fifty shades of grey. A dogged Blacksmith, he seems to be born out of the copulation of the Satan and the Angel. With impregnable mind and unwavering cold spirit he keeps walking and no one ever sees him coming, not even the reader. He is loyal to Cardinal Wolsey, to Henry the eighth, to his kinship and friends, to former Queen Katherine, to now Queen Anne Boleyn, to his ambitions and even to his adversaries. One by one his enemies fall and we never know if it is his designing or mere circumstances. He starts at the beginning and does not stop at the ending. Such plain narrative, still the novel clinches the Booker Prize. That explains the literary merit of Hilary Mantel’s work. There are so many characters that one can not count on fingers. Yet, each one is so apart that they come with their own baggage and history to influence us. They trigger our imagination for their settings to come alive. The prisoners’ Tower is as dreadful as other literary works and history have portrayed it. Dampness mixed with condemnation seeps through its dark walls to the dread of the captives.

                                                     Henry the eighth loves Anne Boleyn, his new wife, for what?  It remains obscure as it happens in every love tale. Anne is jealous, insecure, slender and yellow with small teeth.  It all helps her getting whatever she desires. Other 'Boleyns' are not shy of seeing their daughters sleeping with men if they are powerful and rich. They try their fortune this way and succeed. Then, there are men like Thomas More, who start from the top to end up in the tower because of the Puritan ideas which are nothing but fancies to a pragmatic man like Thomas Cromwell. Rome, as the seat of Catholic Church is mentioned again and again which is struggling with gospels and going through its own political turmoil. Amid such chaos, it is wonderful  how the people residing in Thomas Cromwell's household 'Austin Friars' especially, the ladies are so innocent in their own world. Men, off course have a path to follow which is already carved out by Thomas Cromwell.

                                                      Name of the novel is derived from Wolf Hall, the seat of one Seymour Family. Although, the seat does not play any role in the novel. Having stated this, the book is not an easy read as the new characters keep entering with out much introduction. Conversations too keep flipping very fast and every time you catch different characters, they are doing something else than where you had left them before. It takes first thirty pages to be fully gripped by the story then it takes us ahead if the patience stays. Thomas Cromwell is ‘He’ most of the times which confuses in between. But, it is after all a literary fiction and they don’t come in light doses. It is the first part of the Trilogy, second has been released in 2012. I impart with 8 out of ten. Read it if you liked Midnight’s Children. It will give you the same juice.

River of Smoke

Yet, another book from Amitav Ghosh which smells, breathes and depicts the environment so vividly that one sees all the plants, ships and rivers coming to life at every page.  It consists of the middle portion of the “Ibis trilogy” and like mid overs in a one day international cricket game it demands more from a reader than it demands in the start of the innings i.e. the first book “Sea of Poppies”.

                                                           I do not quite agree with the author when he says that one can read “River of Smoke” independent of the prequel. There must be a reason it is a trilogy. Introduction of a character long before he introduces himself in the story can get to your nerves before it unfolds the whole picture and everything false in place. It is like few strokes of an artist on a canvas making us anxious when we don’t know what he is going to paint, more so if the process is going to take a very long time. China our neighbor, which we Indians consider only as our enemy arouses reader’s curiosity as an ancient cultural and business centre where people from all corners of the earth come to gain wealth, respect  and other prospects. Hypocrisy of colonial powers and their contempt for other civilizations is as evident as it was in the prequel. Thorough research of hundreds of memoirs and other historical documents the author went through to throw light on lots of interesting historical and sociological facts is apparent . The fact that sugar is called Cheeni in India merely because it came from China amused me and that “Faltoo” as most commonly used slang in India has its roots in Portuguese word Falto wondered me.

                                                            Entrepreneurship shown by the Parsi community from the western coast of Indian even in the eighteenth and nineteenth century is portrayed in the customary style of the author. If Deeti is the chief protagonist in the Sea of Poppies, Bahram Modee is the anchor here. Barring one or two mentions of Ibis which gives a sense of nostalgia to the reader, the glory here belongs to “Anahita”, Seth Baharam Modee’s ship. The “Redruth”, on which Paulette sails with Fitcher and his plants play a supporting role in the book. Serang Ali, the lascar is replaced by one Zedig Bey from Armenia who has such knowledge and experience that he guides and informs both Seth Bahram Modie and Robin Chinnery. With less money and high moral authority he is trusted and believed by all who comes in contact. Mr. Dent and Mr. Slade are as obstinate as Mr. Burnham was in the previous work and Mr. King as warming as Zachary Reid.

                                                          Canton and the floating city come across as a dream where artists are producing colors in alleys and nurseries, copying miniatures and painting life size portraits of the rich Sahibs, parties are thrown where people are served too many culinary experiments for my knowledge as a vegetarian, boats differ from each other on the basis of their shape or the numbers of the masts. In the end, Opium influences each life whether directly or indirectly. It makes some rich, robs others of their life, it benefits those who take the responsibility only when it appeals to their circumstances. Opium is the wind where the story sails as in the case of Sea of Poppies but more so here.

                                                      The book is a must read for those who have read the first part. Those who have not should go for both. It may test your patience on some pages but in the end, sums it all good. Seven and half for it.

Dreary Eyed Ghost

   

A dreary eyed ghost

walks along the coast

his soul slumbering in casket

o’ put to golden roast

now winters don’t stop him

trampling upon the frost

autumns shower maples

springs become his host

what colors you fly

which spirit he asks, you boast

my time lies behind

I am well past that post

what stones do they offer

when pearls rest in coffer

as shovel pushed the earth

they called the funeral proper

wooden tears dripping

made him laugh the most

a dreary eyed ghost

walks along the coast

sailing on the dreams

    raising the last toast…

                                  

                                                                                        -Varun Sihag

Life of Pi

Life of Pi

It is not the wisest idea to assess a movie after you have read the book it is based on, as reading a book is far richer experience because of the time one spends with it. Moreover every character with its setting creates a very personal image of everything which in a way is reflection of the personality and history of the reader himself.

                                                            The story written by Yan Martel is exceptional in its content though the language could have generated more beauty, while the story told by Ang Lee in the movie is more beautiful in its pictorial quality but the heart of it, which is destitution of a teenager who has lost everything he ever had in his small years is missing somewhere.  Young actor Suraj Sharma’s discomfort with the English tongue is jarring factor for his expressions to be believable. I heard laughter from viewers when PI thanks Lord Vishnu for the first fish he gets in the ocean, I am sure the director did not want the scene to have a funny bone. Irfan Khan with his calm and confident demeanor has performed well enough to his standards. Adil Hussain in the shoes of Pi’s father has a job well done, He and Tabu(Pi’s mother) have little screen time and space for anything to be proved, though the kind work they have produced before is good enough to judge their capabilities in the bright light.

                                                            Rhythm & Hues, California based VFX studio has done the best job for Ang Lee. “The Chronicles of Narnia” and “The Golden Compass” are their previous bodies of work. No one watching the movie can prove their digital tiger as digital. Three D glasses make everything a visual delight. Background score which bears on Indian Classic Music is average. The depth which I expected from the maker of Broke Back Mountain is clearly missing. This movie is worth watching for the eccentricity of the very idea of a stranded boy on a life boat with a royal Bengal tiger. Visual effects clinch everything for the makers and win viewers. Watch this move before it is out of the theatres, especially if you have not read the book. You can take your kids with you; they will particularly enjoy the movie which does not ponder the seriousness of a “Cast Away”.

Seven out of ten for the movie.

Seven and Half for the book if you want to read it.